I’m suffering an Andy Rooney moment – or month, or year. Kicking George Bush around isn’t nearly as much fun as it was when he had more defenders than detractors and he was in his `bring ‘em on!’ mode.
It’s so bad that I can’t even write a posting decrying my malaise. Joan Vennochi of the Boston Globe did such a great job of stealing my thunder – or was it my whimper? – that I’m unable to make even an effort at pummeling the president or his men or women.
http://www.boston.com/news/globe/editorial_opinion/oped/articles/2006/05/21/bushed_on_bush_whacking/
Remember the good old days when we rose before dawn and bayed at the dying moon spitting out the names of Dick Cheney, Don Rumsfeld, Richard Perle, Doug Fieth, George Tenet, Paul Wolfowitz, and Condoleeza Rice like mad werewolves? But not now, they’re all discredited; Iraq is a quagmire and a massive blunder, and everyone just wants these people gone and our troops home and out of harm’s way. They pop onto TV and we simply switch channels without even listening or snarling.
I’m also mad at myself for being the last cheapskate from the Great Depression. My golfing partner, Dick O’Brien and I are unwilling to pay premium prices for green fees at expensive courses and content ourselves with bromides such as, “You still have swing the club on good grass or bad,” as we walk the old muni. Why can’t we be like the young guys who think nothing of springing seventy-five bucks for the privilege of playing on a course with a grand clubhouse? Why do we septuagenarians feel the need to walk the course and actually get exercise while the kids spring another sawbuck for to ride?
Why do I drink Busch Beer instead of its more expensive stable mates, Bud, Mich, and now Rolling Rock? Just because I have such ordinary taste buds that almost all beer tastes alike, shouldn’t I be sloshing some high priced Bavarian brew instead of checking the born on dates of the cheapest beer in town? Young guys who don’t even have jobs are savoring the best of German brews, why can’t I?
Where’s George Bush when you need a good fight? He’s got me feeling sorry for him and myself. Did you ever wonder why that is?
Blog on!
Wild Bill
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