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Rocky Raccoon
for release 01-05-07
Washington DC
Presidencies are a bit like romances. After the blush is off the rose, that is to say after about the first four years, things start to get dicey. You've told all of your stories (several times). She is too familiar with your habits, and you with hers. Everybody knows who snores or who grits their teeth or who can't keep up with their socks. The things that once endeared now irritate. She's told you all of her stories (several times). You both know what to expect from the other (yawn). The cap is off the toothpaste tube, so to speak.
This is the situation in which our president finds himself. I call it the second term blues. It's the Crossroads where Robert Johnson meets the devil. It's happened to almost every modern president who has had a second term. Everybody's heard their stories before (several times). We know too much about them. Their foibles and mistakes are on record, catalogued in the indelible ink, the video tape, of memory. Yes, presidencies are like romances.
In love affairs, you excuse the minor shortcomings at first. You assume that bad habits will improve or that characters will change or that love will transform your partner into the dream creature that you desire. The Poet's Eye hasn't noticed any instances of this actually happening.
When George Bush was first quasi-elected, the American people didn't know whether we were really married or just living in sin. But when the wedding present was delivered on 9-11, we were giddy enough with fear and romance to overlook minor transgressions like The Patriot Act. We all smiled when he invaded his first foreign country. It looked like the manly thing to do. Then he invaded Iraq after lying about the lipstick on his collar and he's playing poker with his buddies all night and we start to get an inkling that he's a nasty drunk in the geo-political sense. He's a second-term boyfriend.
Every relationship has its Rocky moments. When you are a second-term boyfriend or a second-term president you can expect global cooling and you can expect the political winds to change. The only solution is acceptance. At some point in a romance or in politics you have to accept that your partner burps when drinking beer and that your president is a pompous little chest-thumping jackass who is signing laws which assert that he has the right to open your mail.
Now enters The Other Woman. Her name is Magil, she calls herself Lil, but everyone knows her as Nancy,,,,, Pelosi. Whether she uses Thomas Jefferson's Koran or Gideon's bible, she is swearing in a democratic majority in the House of Representatives. Georgie Raccoon is going to have to make nice. He has survived into his second term, but will he survive the Seven Year (B)Itch?
Georgie Raccoon checked into his room
Only to find Gideon's bible
Georgie had come equipped with a gun
To shoot off the legs of his rival
His rival it seems had broken his dreams
By stealing the girl of his fancy.
Her name was Magil and she called herself Lil
But everyone knew her as Nancy.
--paraphrased from the Beatles