Back when the U.S. Constitution was written, the founding fathers would have been proud to observe today’s modern, sophisticated system of electing a president, which basically consists of candidates saying unbecoming things about each other such as when John Edwards made insensitive cracks about Hillary Clinton’s pink jacket.
Yes, friends, things are heating up for the 2008 presidential race as evidenced by all the networks in the known universe holding “debates” approximately 37 times per week. I think it’s a swell idea to trot out every last contender for the Fed’s top job at these events, including perpetual candidate Pat Paulsen who is, technically, dead but with so many presidential hopefuls clogging up the works, nobody has seemed to notice. They just prop old Pat up on a podium where he displays approximately the same range of facial expressions as the Lincoln Memorial sculpture. Don’t quote me on this, but Pat has been reportedly resurrected as Dennis Kucinich and is being operated with the assistance of remote controls.
Speaking of presidential high jinks, recently I saw the film, “Man of the Year,” with Robin Williams, and may I just say – can somebody please talk this guy into running for president? With Robin in charge, before long we would have world peace because two things that make it darned near impossible for people to keep on killing each other are listening to 15 minutes of Robin Williams when he’s on a roll. OK, that was technically one thing, but I’m also assigning the second thing to Robin Williams because, frankly, he may be our last real hope here. Unfortunately, Robin Williams has about as much chance of being elected president as Rocky the Flying Squirrel although “President Williams” would certainly liven up cabinet meetings.
Back here in the real world, Republicans are in a stew about whether Fred Thompson is running for president because it’s getting downright embarrassing that a guy not officially running for office is actually, sort of, winning in the polls. From the other side, the short list of leading Democrats shows former first lady Hillary Clinton in the lead. Electing Mrs. Clinton could take the sting out of decorating the White House since she and former President Clinton left the residence less than a decade ago, reportedly carrying a number of “souvenirs” with them. Maybe they still have a pair of old curtains lying around they could re-hang.
So if November 2008 rolls around and the Republicans have completely self-destructed, it’s possible that the U.S. may elect its first woman president. Now I would like to say that I’d be delighted about this – woohoo for our side and all that. Yes, I would like to say that, but what I’m actually thinking is: Wow! We are in some really deep doo-doo here.
Now before you rush off to write angry e-mails to me, let me explain. Brilliant lady that she undoubtedly is, Mrs. Clinton also happens to be what we people of political correctness delicately refer to as “being of a certain age,” which happens to be of the same certain aging ballpark as, well … me. Now if we’re talking sheer brain power here, that would be a whole other ballpark because I sure as heck don’t want to go head-to-head, so to speak, comparing IQs with Hillary. But Mrs. Clinton could be elected president just as boatloads of what is scientifically referred to as Random Hormonal Monsoons (RHMs) pull into port (as is often the case with women in my, um … ballpark), resulting in an annoying “absentmindedness.” Personally, I’ve learned to cope with this affliction because what else do I have to do all day but look for my keys 97 times or wonder why I just walked into the living room or silly things like how many times I’ve given birth for example. But it could be a bit unsettling if “President Hillary” experienced a few RHMs that come over us girls now and then. It wouldn’t inspire confidence if White House workers witnessed this exchange:
Hillary: “Say, Bill … let’s invite the Osama’s over for dinner this weekend. I want to apologize for the way I cleaned his clock in the election.”
Bill: “You bet, sugar pants, but don’t you mean you’d like to invite the ‘Obama’s’ for dinner? We’re as close to knowing Osama bin Laden’s whereabouts as O.J. is to finding the real killers. And listen here, sweet cheeks, because you forgot again. You didn’t clean Obama’s clock in the election. Barack Obama is your vice president.”
Hillary: “Oh, fiddlesticks! I can’t keep all these people straight. By the way, Bill, there’s a young woman sleeping in the Lincoln bedroom, and I am not at all happy about this development so tell her to hit the road – pronto! And why is it so hot in here? Is the air conditioner broken?”
Bill: “Sorry to break it to you, rum cake, but it’s February; you must be having another ‘power surge.’ And that young woman in the Lincoln bedroom is … well, that’s Chelsea. Tell you what, turtle dumpling, why don’t you go lie down until you’re feeling better. I can run things here awhile.”
Hillary: “Stop patronizing me, Bill! If you want to make yourself useful, call Tony Blair and tell him that as England’s prime minister he needs to get a grip on this illegal immigration problem. Those Brits are crossing our borders like rats following the Pied Piper of Hamelin.”
Bill (biting his lip): “Sorry, lamb chop, but Tony Blair retired back in 2007, so that would be Prime Minister Gordon Brown and … oh, never mind.”
So you can see what we’re up against here. Somebody needs to stop Mrs. Clinton before it’s too late! I mean, as president, would she be playing with a full deck? Although on second thought, given Mrs. Clinton’s interest in health care, maybe she’ll enact a new federal law so the government will designate those darned RHMs as a Permanent Major Disability. Yes – a Permanent Major Disability – that’s the ticket! I don’t know about you, but I could use the tax deduction.
Gale Hammond is a writer and freelance photographer who has lived in Morgan Hill 24 years. Reach her at
Ga*********@ao*.com
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