A political discussion between Red
State conservative Dave Simpson – a former
reporter, editor, publisher and columnist
– and Greg Bean, Blue Stater and
executive editor of Greater Media Newspapers.
Let us know what you think.
Dear Greg:
Did you notice how magnanimous Our President was last week when he invited Al Gore and the other Nobel Peace Prize winners over to his swell round office for congratulatory cheese and crackers?
I like to bring up Our President with you Greg, because I never get tired of seeing that big vein pop out of your neck. You’re at your colorful, creative best when talking about the president, sputtering expletives like a longshoreman, and it gives us a chance to further explore this whole Red State/Blue State imbroglio.
I shouldn’t admit this, but I cringe when Big Spending George gets up to talk, because I know he’s going to mangle his syntax, or say something crazy like “allowing gynecologists to pursue their love for women,” or that he likes to shake hands with guys who had their hands cut off.
With both Mayor Richard Daleys in Chicago, their hilarious lack of command of the language was endearing, and it brightened otherwise dreary winter days. But with those guys, what’s the risk? War with Indiana? Troops on the Evanston border?
With George Jr., the language gap is more disturbing because he controls nuclear weapons, even though he can’t pronounce “nuclear.”
Hearing him talk is like waiting for locomotives to collide, and I find myself hoping that just this once it will be different, and Leno and Letterman will have to find something else to joke about. About the best you can expect are long, frequent, uncomfortable pauses as he struggles for the right word, and never finds it.
It’s painful, even for Red Staters.
It makes me think that maybe it would not have been so bad if things had worked out differently in 2000, and I could be giving you the business over President Al inventing the Internet, and crowing about George Jr. getting the Nobel Prize for, oh, I don’t know, baseball team ownership, or service to the English language.
I hear George and Al were alone in the Oval Office for about 40 minutes the other day, talking about global warming. How do you suppose that conversation started, Greg?
“Hear about my Nobel Prize, Georgie? Think you’ll ever get one of those puppies?”
“Like my office, Al? Shaped like an, uh, what’s the word, kind of, uh, circle deal. Could have been yours, Al, if you hadn’t sighed at that debate.”
So anyway, Greg, I think even you have to admit that the president was gracious in inviting Al over for a visit, especially after Ted Kennedy was honored at the White House a few years back and showed his appreciation by kicking George W. in the teeth every chance he got.
Our President tortures the language and spends like a drunken Democrat, but at least his mom Babs taught him some primo manners.
Do I get a big Rush Limbaugh “ditto” on this one, Greg?
Sincerely, Red State Dave
Dear Dave:
So, let me get this straight. The best thing you can say about this is that George (Shrub) Bush didn’t disinvite Al Gore from the shindig, and let everyone else who won a Nobel Prize come and be honored with some Swiss on a Ritz?
Man, you’re really reaching for the positives here, but I’ll go along. As long as we’re imagining conversations, however, let’s think of how that one might have really gone:
President: “Hey, why don’t all you guys and gals who won the Norvelle Prize come over to the White House Saturday for some wine and cruderies?”
Winners: “Thanks, we’ll be there. But Mr. President, I think the word you were looking for is crudités. It’s French.”
President: “Whatever. You know, around here we don’t talk French. We talk American, and in the US of A, it’s cruderies. Freedom Cruderies, we call ’em. Ya’ll like squeeze cheese?”
Winners: “Cruderies it is, Mr. President. We are all honored to accept your invitation.”
President: (horrified at realizing what he’s just done): “Not you, Al.”
Al Gore: “Hold on, I’m not invited, even though I was among the winners of the prestigious Nobel Peace Prize? Why not, pray tell?”
President: “Two reasons, Al. First, we don’t believe in global warming around here. In fact, we deny it. That’s why we wouldn’t sign the Coyoto Pravachol. Second, I don’t like you much, and this is my house, Norvelle Lariat or not.”
Winners (aghast): “It’s the house of the American people, Mr. President, and if Al’s not invited, we’re not coming either.”
Press Secretary (whispering in Shrub’s ear): “Mr. President, if all the Nobel winners refuse to come, it will be a public relations disaster. Even Fox News would have a field day with that one.”
President: “Oh h-e-double hockey sticks! All right, Al, you can come. Twenty minutes tops. One glass of wine. One of those little hot dog thingies wrapped in pastry. One photo with me smiling like I know what’s going on. But stay out of the Lincoln bedroom, Mr. I-Was-This-Close-And-Blew- It, and keep your hands off the silver!”
I like my version better, don’t you? But tell me, what does Ted Kennedy have to do with anything? Ted Kennedy didn’t get that gin blossom nose from driving his convertible in the wind. I lived in Massachusetts, remember? I know what he’s really like, and as the Irish say, the man’s been known to down a pint (or 10) of plain (Guinness). He probably doesn’t even remember being at the White House, let alone being honored by George W. Bush.
After hosting Teddie-on-a-tear, Bush might have blackballed drunks from the White House, but eighty-sixing all Democrats is a little extreme, even for Shrub.
That, you old dittohead, would be very bad manners indeed.
Cheers and salutations,
Blue State Greg
You can reach Greg Bean at gbean @gmnews. com. Dave Simpson can be reached at [email protected].