Fun With Play-Dough

You say Potatoe, I say Potato…

With McCain looking for a Vice Presidential candidate, we’re in for weeks, if not months, of gossip, debate, and guesswork. Who will it be?

Since McCain has –so far- kept his mouth firmly shut on the issue, the list of potentials is long. More than two dozen names have been floating around. Huckabee, Giuliani, Thompson, and Romney are all on it, although I very much doubt that anyone is still taking Thompson seriously. (If you are, sorry; didn’t mean to hurt your feelings). Joe Lieberman is on the list, and so is Jeb Bush. None of these make McCain look any more appealing; not even Lieberman can get me excited, and I would love to see a Jewish American in office-it’s about time. Especially one that’s actually a Democrat. Or is he? I don’t know anymore.

What the list is missing is somebody we can all get excited about; the Repu’s because they like him, the Democrats because we see an opportunity for some good old-fashioned bashing.

I don’t want to freak anyone out, but I was just wondering: what happened to Dan Quayle? Is he available? So I checked what Wiki had to say about him:

• Dan Quayle has a second home in the ultra-exclusive Yellowstone Club, a Rocky Mountain ski and golf club located just north of Yellowstone National Park in Montana. Lots at the club cost in range of $2 million to $10 million; about 85 houses are built there and cost from $3 million to $10 million; annual dues are $16,000.
• He’s written a memoir: Standing Firm, which apparently became a best seller (how?)
• Quayle also writes a nationally syndicated newspaper column, serves on a number of corporate boards, chairs several business ventures, and was chairman of Campaign America, a national political action committee. He is chairman of the international advisory board of Cerberus Capital Management. (I’m sorry, that so reminds me of X-Men)

In short, he’s done well for himself. Yet, something remains missing, and I wonder: when he kicks off his boots at his sprawling mountain lodge, does he think about the White House? Does he dream about confetti and balloons? Does he still think he’s Jack Kennedy? Does he imagine coming back, victoriously, proving to all of America that he magically turned into someone smart? Is he watching these primaries, softly humming to himself, if I only had a brain? You know, weirder things have happened.

(Separate issue: which song sticks in your head worse, the potato song, or the scarecrow? I want to know!)