McCain-Obama Ticket

I had an MLK-style dream, America.

There they were: Ebony, Ivory posed with Chief Justice Roberts--or was that Thurgood Marshall--behind the great dais at the swearing in at the inauguration.

Michelle insisted upon holding the Bible for John McCain--not a good start, but a start. I remember feeling impressed at Michelle's raw power for as she grasped tightly that Bible with one hand, she was very casually holding Cindy McCain in a half-Nelson with her free arm. Admittedly this is not a dignified change, but it is change nonetheless.

I didn't see Barack. But I know he was there somewhere. Wait, on second thought, that might have been Barack in Michelle's deadly hold, not the new First Lady as I had first thought. By now she had switched to a amazingly tougher grip which utilized her jaw muscles. That way she could discipline her children with just a look and make sure the car got washed. Don't ask me how this wonderwoman does it. Oprah's wondered that too.

Wait a minute. Neither Mrs. McCain nor Barack wear pantsuits and I distinctly remember a gold pantsuit! Could that be Mrs. Clinton in the grip of the new Second Lady?

Well, you can't believe what happened next. I'll just take you along with me on this ultra American democratic magic carpet ride.

An orange-blond floozy-looking kind of woman in a blue dress with a half empty quart of Jim Beam dangling from her plastic alligator carryall that had horseshoes on it and a hoary eyed, red nosed Bill Clinton with long flying hair looking ironically like John Brown tore down the stairs waving a long pointy finger in the air.

As he rushed past the seated dignitaries, including ancients like Bob Dole, George McGoven, all the Bushes, all the Kennedys, even Billy Graham and Jeremiah Wright he ranted "I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinsky." I remember thinking in my dream that I wished I had a camera. It was almost ethereal. But then it was a dream.

When he and the floozy in blue reached the podium, Bill removed his cashmere jacket and handed it to the bewildered, fluttery floozy (she thought it was vicuna), rolled up his sleeves and acted as if he was about to do something he'd regret. Again.

He leaned back, aimed, then took a swipe at Michelle, missed. Then he swung at Thurgood Marshall--or was is John Roberts--missed. Michelle dropped Hillary, never one to pass up a good fight with someone her own size, and took her best Queensberry stance. Make my day, she seemed to say.

Why fight when you can run, Bill grabbed Hillary by her gold Cruilla collar, then took the floozy over his shoulder and carried them both up the stairs into oblivion. I do remember Mrs. Clinton yelling and screaming expletives and something like,"This was supposed to be my day, Bill, you idiot. Let me go! You want a see my blue dress? Who the hell are you? I'll show you a blue dress, Bill, you SOB! "

I love my dreams. Sometimes my dreams are the best entertainment I'll have all week.

This is what we're talkin' about!
It's so crazy it might just work. The McCain Obama ticket, I mean. I think Obama could grow into the job if he could be shown how real life works by a President McCain. He's not stupid, after all, and every man eventually reaches that point of no return no matter what his political affiliation.

Now if we could just pull him off that silly leftist agenda of his (or his supporters'). And that pesky preacher of his (or his supporters')...then there's that wife of his. You don't think they'd have Raul Castro or Hugo Chavez stay over in the Lincoln bedroom...or Jane Fonda!

Now, that's a nightmare.

Then I reread my own March 30Th entry about how Obama disgraced and betrayed his own grandmother to make his pals like him and I got over the "dream."

Nevermind.

(sigh)

Thanks for the read anyway.