Valentines Day Bi-Partisanship: A Reach-Around the Aisle.

Kurovski

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Sat Feb-14-09 04:45 PM
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Valentines Day Bi-Partisanship: A Reach-Around the Aisle.

It's the first Valentines Day of his tenure, and President Barack Obama has still got a bad case of bi-fever. That dear-old sense of Kumbaya and respect that bi-partisanship engenders. At least on one side. And in at least one person, namely Barack Obama.

Okay. I admit it. There exists at least TWO of us. And so now if you will allow me to unravel my dark Valentine's Day confession, here we go...

Do you remember Mike Brady? The handsome gentleman who married Florence Henderson and who in the seventies together with Mike kept six child actors holed-up in a windowless California home?

Well, I contend that Republican Minority Leader John Boehner is way cuter than Mike. He is totally "Gunsmoke" material. He's in the category of "Blue-eyed dream-creamsicle white-boy". Was he in that eighties movie version of Hair? Because I could swear I saw him in his boxers at the recruitment center.

He could even be a TEEVEE salesman for a big national insurance company. In other words, he's mega-dreamy and monster-hot. Compared to him, Ronald Reagan ain't diddly-squat, and I'm finding it hard to believe that Peggy Noonan hasn't already horn-dogged him in the pages of the Wall Street Journal. And if she did, well Peggy, you just back off before we have some trouble.

I find myself checking into CSpan just to stare into John's big, puffy, bloated blue eyes. Their swollen appearance is our assurance that he's working hard to figure out how to make this beleaguered nation better by way of three scotches a night.

Their moistness signals that they're ever-ready to shed a manly, testosterone-laced tear.

--Oh John. Why won't you let me dry your tears?

He is my wrinkly orange love god. Where lies the limits of that tan-line and what of my fevered dream to cross it?

My hands reach out to the screen as my imagination tousles that...that...that...stuff on top of his head.

I stretch before the set like a panther as I luxuriate in the aural touch of his tender, lisp-ish speech. It spills from the speakers, sounding loose and slushy, his oratory tripping up the stairs like a tipsy baritone cutie-pie dropping his drawers on the way, ready for bed.

The sound is so insanely adorable that I find myself biting my lip and sharply smacking my own bottom to keep from floating off into the stratosphere, so delightful is the joy of it all.

I even love it when he trashes everything I believe in on the House Floor. Who cares? They're just "things". But John. John is experience itself.

I thrill to his strong-mindedness as it is revealed in that histrionic manner I so admire. Just recently he plunged--no, dashed--the telephone-book sized stimulus bill to the floor to make a point. That should teach us! This will keep us on our toes! And now we know what to expect should we prepare a pan of poorly-seasoned lasagna that displeases him.

Do you think I'm kidding? Do you dare laugh at love? The arrogance! You all know in your hearts that that man is one-hundred percent adorable and special. And lest you forget...he is a "minority" member.

So as you can see, I'm doing my level best to work on a stimulus package of my own design and like our President, I too reach across the aisle while never letting the ridiculous impossibility of my situation give me pause.

For myself, Mr. Boehner's heterosexuality is no impediment whatsoever. Similarly, President Obama has not been held off by the fact that Minority Leader John Boehner is loaded with more horseshit than a team of constipated Clydesdales.

And as Helen Thomas once kindly emailed to me, "hope springs eternal".

A happy Valentine's to all, and to all...a good night!