Fun With Play-Dough

What a lovefest it was, at the NRA headquarters. Wish I could have been there! Republicans everywhere, congratulating themselves, making snotty remarks about Obama and Hillary and subsequently gloating when people clapped…boy oh boy!

Huckabee’s joke about Obama diving to the floor, because he thought someone was pointing a gun at him, wasn’t that funny? Hucky, you are one witty SOB! I always thought there was a career in standup waiting for you…after all, you are a Baptist minister and a schlemiel; what better foundation is there for a famous comedian? 

Wait, wait; you know what you should do? Ask Karl Rove to do a double header with you; remember his rapping? Wow, that was really something. Watching you on that stage made me feel every bit as warm and fuzzy as I did back when Rove did that MC thing; I tell you, had I been there, I would have thrown my panties at your head. The only thing is, next time you make a joke about Obama, you should replace “gun” with the word “noose”. I’m sure it’ll go over really well. You like attention, and that, my friend, will get you lots of air time.  Everybody would be talking about it.

Pity you are married. 

But wait! Even though your run for the nomination fell flat, you’re still sort of a politician, right? That means you could have an affair! People do it all the time!

Come on, Mike, do it for me. We could meet in a dark alley somewhere late at night, when nobody is around, all alone, out of screaming distance… 

How to make a decision once and for all:

• Has anybody ever doubted the fairness of playing “eenie-meenie-minie-mo”? (how the hell do you spell that, anyway?)
• A Zoolander-style Walk-off, televised in real time
• Mud wrestling. Seriously; Let’s see how that pant suit holds up.
• Political Jeopardy; the public can design the questions
• Tequila
• Monopoly Marathon
• Three-way staring contest
• Very High Stake Poker  
• Pin the tail on the donkey; use Cheney for the donkey.  Rename it “shoot the donkey”.
• Go Fear Factor; have Andrew Zimmern pick the menu. Don’t tell them the rules. Whoever is stupid enough to eat that rare Thai regurgitated Scorpion dish does not get the Presidency.
• Take a key to the White House, encase it in cement and drop to on the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain. Finder’s keepers.

What?! Who the hell is Bob Barr? Is he related to Roseanne Barr? And why does he deem it necessary to announce now, at the eleventh hour? And why does he wear those ugly glasses? And why would somebody who was so much in the forefront during the Clinton Impeachment now assist the Democratic Party by messing with McCain?

My husband thinks he’s just bitter because he likes neither McCain nor Obama, and we’re pretty much sure that it’s going to be Obama and not Hillary. However, I doubt that Barr has any fuzzy feelings for Hillary either; for that matter, he could have been a little speedier with his announcement. Still, this is puzzling. The man must realize there is absolutely no chance in hell he will come within flying distance of the presidency. If he thinks he’s got a chance, he needs a medication adjustment, as do those that support him financially.

Nader supporters can be forgiven because there’s a genuine passion involved in supporting him, and an idealism that doesn’t really hurt anyone. Barr supporters, however, need to have their heads examined. I suggest they send their money somewhere where it’s actually needed. Oklahoma, Georgia, Myanmar, you name it.

So Barack takes North Carolina, while Hillary will probably get Indiana. No surprise there; we’re all so bored that even my daughter, who is six, is wondering out loud when this is over with. Before I start beating myself up over having introduced politics to a first grader too early, she brings me her homework.  Mixed in with the assignments is an issue of Time Magazine for Kids, the “Road to the White House” edition. Ah.

“Candidates meet people,” it says, “they shake hands and kiss babies; they answer people’s questions.” Frankly, I’ve always wondered about that baby bit. Why do politicians kiss babies when they are on the trail? And do they stop this once they’re elected? What if they don’t win? Do they still continue kissing babies left and right; is it a hard habit to break?  And why would anybody want his or her baby kissed by a politician?  How do you know the candidate in question doesn’t have a bad cold?

Has anybody studied the effects of the baby kissing? One has to imagine there is some proven benefit to the whole deal; maybe a percentage point of gain among voters for every thirty babies kissed, something like that? Would it be the campaign manager’s job to whisper in the politician’s ear: there’s a good one on the left; skip the one in the green jammies, it looks like he’s got a rash!  Or would a candidate just sort of play it by ear?

There. That’s how bored I am.    

So, what’s going to happen now that May 6 is here? Now that the voters in North Carolina and Indiana will finally have their say? Oh, I know, I know!

Nothing.

Well, maybe not exactly nothing; just nothing new. We will continue to hear about delegates and super-delegates, popular votes and how many each candidate needs in order to win; and why neither can actually grab the nomination without the other one dropping out. There will be a little more bitching and moaning about mean pastors and whether race is an issue, as well as complaining about Obama being both too black and too elitist. I have to wonder whether Howard Dean will survive banging his head against the wall this many times.

If this stalemate continues until the convention, I’m afraid we’ll all die of boredom. This race should be decided with some melodramatic turn of events: a scandal, a secret rendezvous between unlikely lovers, a murder plot…something exciting that will give us a reason to care again. Like the characters in a really good movie you can watch again and again; Hillary and Obama need to draw us back in.  Right now, most people are walking out of the theater, and feeling sorry they bought a ticket in the first place.