Joe the Plumber is pissed at John McCain for using Joe as a poster child to reach Middle Americans during McCain’s 2008 Presidential bid. Hmmm. And this is a surprise, Joe? To what do you owe this epiphany? That you’re only now realizing you were Team McCain-Palin’s ticket to connecting with those feeling disenfranchised, disillusioned, and disconnected speaks of a remarkable talent for self-deception. One can assume that life under a microscope while sitting in a hot seat of political intrigue, missteps and backbiting was not as rewarding as, say, a reality TV series. Your fifteen minutes of fame went down the drain with nothing to show for your trouble. How convenient to blame McCain for “really screwing up” your life. Climb down from the cross. Someone could use the wood.
I’m convinced the entire Senate should be contestants on “Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?” Perhaps it should be a litmus test for all Congressional candidates. Applications are available online but I have my doubts potential contenders or even current elected “officials” could get through that process. I suspect that almost any child under the age of 12 behaves more rationally and is more productive than our current congress. Can a US Senator claiming to have the best interests of his or her country possibly expect voters to take them seriously if they intentionally keep presidential appointees at bay and, therefore, jobs vacant “because they can”? Give us a break. A seat in the Senate is not a game of marbles. Pack it up and take it home if you aren’t willing to stop pussyfooting around and work for your country. Over 10% of the employable population would love to have your job and benefits. And after the mess you’ve made of the economy, you probably wouldn’t receive unemployment.
I recently spent time at Choir Practice with my good friend, Yukon, and four of my father’s, the Admiral, old fishing buddies. As we sat watching the CEO and President of Toyota on FOX News (grab a pillow and smother me), I smelled an opportunity. Not looking to rush into anything, for four years I have been toying with the idea of thinking about purchasing a new vehicle.
Leaning over to Yukon, I said, “I’m going to buy a Toyota!” Holy mother of Pete you’d have thought I asked him to give up his elk tag and spit on the NRA.
Knocking on the top of my head with his fist like it was a door and I was deaf, he said in alarm, “Hello! McFly! Have you not been paying attention here! Are you having a stoke?! You have been drooling for the last ten minutes.” Like singing Irish hymns won’t do that to you after a day in the company of City officials.
The Admiral’s fishing buddies snickered in their hymnals. Yukon rolled his eyes and started to call 911.
Looking at the Toyota hoopla opened my eyes yet again to the irrationality of the human race. I could walk out my door and get struck by lightning on a cloudless day before I had a problem with a Toyota. Is it any wonder we frighten ourselves with reality shows, Rush Limbaugh and the Conservative Propaganda Apparatus?
Well, thanks, Mikey. It’s too late now. The damage is done. For the first time in my life, the President of the United States is younger than me. As is his Chief of Staff. Had I realized the emotional toll that would eventually take on my psyche I would have voted for John McCain. However, I was terrified that sooner rather than later Sarah Palin would be running the country and I would be back to square one minus some – the President would be a bobblehead and younger than me. OMG! It could still happen! A bobbleheaded tea-totaler Commander-In-Chief dressed in an American flag bikini, holding a rifle and taking potshots at the US’s sagging credibility. I weep for the Country.
It’s an election year. What are the odds that our esteemed Congressional Representatives, an oxymoron if ever there was one, will accomplish anything in 2010 but raking in big bucks from companies with special interests, deep pockets and powerful lobbyists? If the last year is any indication, legislators waffle more than an IHOP on a Sunday morning. In fact, almost without exception, those narcissistic blowhards represent our best interests like pork producers champion the long life of pigs. Does that make our congress people producers of pork?