Week 31 - Delusions of grandeur

It's starting to get a little cranky here in Conathan-land. Those pregnancy books don't lie: first trimester = tired and pissy, second trimester = high-flyin' good times, and third trimester = tired, pissy, AND bloated. So I started thinking to myself: there must be someone more unpopular than the guy who knocked up his wife and now gets to cool himself off with a nice gin and tonic, sleep through the night without getting up to pee three times, and NOT carry around an extra thirty pounds.

And then it came to me:


With junior's approval ratings slumping to just 26% in the latest Newsweek poll--only slightly north of Julio Lugo's batting average--the White House was a mortal lock for Place Where Mike Is Not the Least Popular Guy Around. So off we went.

This was not Puck's first visit to Casa W. Back in late January, one of my co-workers was kind enough to set us up on a tour of the West Wing. Here we are, as a matter of fact, in the Rose Garden. I know, it's dark, and there are no roses. But trust me. That portico thing in the background that you can barely make out? You recognize that, don't you? Outside the Oval Office? Where Martin Sheen goes to brood and make his really hard decisions? Work with me here.

It was on this trip that Anna endeared herself to the Bush Administration. I'm expecting some kind of executive branch appointment any day now. We were standing outside the Roosevelt Room, and when the conversation took this delightful turn:

TOUR GUIDE (AKA, SPECIAL ASSISTANT TO THE PRESIDENT): Over there on the wall is Teddy Roosevelt's Nobel Peace Prize. He is the only sitting US President ever to have been awarded one.

ANNA: Oh yeah? How's it look for George?

[LONG BEAT OF STRAINED SILENCE]

TOUR GUIDE: Not good.

Needless to say, we weren't invited back in for iced tea and a dip in the pool. We were left to commune with the hoi polloi out front.


Naturally, some of the rabble were more rousing than others. We were really hoping this guy had a website we could direct you to, but apparently his campaign to become president via Constitutional amendment hasn't made the leap into cyberspace.


He seemed like a nice enough guy, but presidential material? It's just not that hard to get your own blog together and cobble up a few planks for your campaign platform. At least he was clever enough to cut an eye hole in his head sign.

A call for change is in the air outside the White House, but the question remains: a change to what? If "Me for President" ain't it, and I feel pretty confident he ain't, why not look to some fresh blood?


Puck in '08!