Sunday, April 11, 2010

*A Modern American Tea Party

John McCain called me last night.  “There’s gonna be a Tea Party tomorrow.  Six O’Clock.” he said.  “And by the way, I don’t know how everyone got the idea, but I AM NOT ANY DAMNED MAVERICK!  Just because I wrote that damned book with the sub-title, The Education of an American Maverick doesn’t mean I am one!  Who’d a ever thunk?”.

“But never mind all that.  The party is at Newt Gingrich’s place over on Denial Road.  Newt is going as March Hare, bless his old, retrograde soul. I need to warn you too, Glenn Beck will be there, and he’s mad as a hatter.  He even calls himself ‘the Hatter’ like he’s proud of it, and goes around bragging about his ‘tea partying’.   When he’s not crying that is. On the other hand the White Queen Sarah Palin will be there too, which should make up for the Hatter, even it gets pretty tiring hearing all her bragging about how she really IS a maverick.  God, what an impossible woman!”

But hard as I tried, I still got to the party two hours late.

“Oh, no matter,” said the Hatter at the door.  “It’s six o’clock here on Denial Road.”

I looked at the clock over the mantel and sure enough it read six o’clock.  “How ever can that be?” I wondered out loud. 

“Oh, me’n old Newt, and Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter and Pat Robertson and a whole bunch of other red necks keep trying to turn the clock back.” said Hatter. “Turns out that’s really hard and unconstitutional and all, but we have managed to stop the damned thing.  Would you like some tea?”

He held out a cup, but the moment I reached for it he threw it over his left shoulder and laughed like a banshee.

“You can’t sit there!” he screamed as I nervously moved towards a chair. “That’s a true patriot’s chair!  And you’re not a true patriot even if you did serve our country and I never did. I had good, compelling, patriotic reasons and decided to serve in other ways.  Besides, it paid one helluva lots better.  But, not to change the subject, answer me this. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

Bewildered, and beginning to feel a bit uneasy, I said, “Well, I’m sure I don’t know. . . . because Poe wrote on both?”

“I didn’t think you’d know!” he cried as he broke into large, wet tears and slobber ran freely down his chin.  “Please God! Anybody got any Oxycotin?  Hard liquor? Oh, God,  I didn’t think so!  That socialist Obama is going to have a death panel decapitate me!  I have it on indisputable authority! And his health care plan is going to save so much money it will wreck the economy!  Look how many insurance company CEO’s it will put on the street.  Oh woe is us, oh woe is us!”

“But, you’re not in the insurance business.” I felt I should point out.

“Not so!  Not so!” he screamed.  “I’m on the payroll of over 27 insurance companies.  Not officially of course, but like they take really good care of real and true patriots like me.”

I started to ease towards the door, but the White Queen appeared on the scene before I could get through.  Hatter screamed in ecstasy.  “Sarah!  Sarah!  Thank God you’re here to stand up for patriotic Americans! You’re the only thing standing between us and the Russians!”

“Praise the Lord,  and lock and load, you betcha!” smiled Sarah.  “Anybody seen my lipstick?  Gotta reload you know.”

I noticed the Queen’s crown was a little crooked and gently mentioned it to her.

“Not a problem.  When you’ve got the Lord on your side, nothing is ever really out of kilter.’ she said.  “But, even if it is you can pray it away.  You can pretty much do as you like.  Rational doesn’t matter.  In fact, reality doesn’t even need to compute for a true Christian like me, praise the Lord!”

I heard a loud ‘amen’ from Pat Robertson across the room.  But the White Queen whispered, “Pay him no mind.  No matter what he claims, I know he hasn’t been perfected yet.  I’ve had the demons cast out of me, and he never has.”

“But, aren’t you two on the same page?” I asked.

“Oh yes, we both do the Lord’s work.” she replied. “And so far it’s been paying pretty well for both of us.  But, Pat’s in the actual God business, and I only get him to help me out when I need him.  The Lord’s mighty helpful in politics these days you know.  Anyway, Pat is a has been.  I’m the here and now.  In fact, I’m the future! But, enough about me.  Who are you anyway?”

I looked at the floor for a moment and said,  “I'm just your average, normal everyday American.”

“Oh, you mean like Joe Six-Pack and Joe the Plumber?” she smiled.

“Not exactly.” I said. “Actually, I read and pay attention to things around me.  Also, I speak pretty good English and and can spell actual words and really respect education, sobriety, calmness, deliberation, thoughtfulness and common sense.”

The Queen sniffed.  “Oh, those things!  Not that important.  Just look at me!  Guys like Joe Six-pack are just the salt of the earth, or at least the salt of the good old US of A.  Those guys are the ‘real America’.  And, they’re so, so easy to control.  They’re the heart of the Tea Party movement you know.  They believe absolutely everything we feed them - especially if I wiggle my ass a little and give ‘em a cutesy smile, silly putzes!  You can’t go wrong with a gun either.  They eat that crap up.  That’s why I love those words like ‘reload’ and ‘don’t tread on me’.  Keeps me in the public eye you know, and that’s the main thing.”

The party didn’t last long and there weren’t that many there altogether.  I said my good byes as politely as I could and eased away.  I don’t think I will go to another one.

*This is an imaginary, spoof story, with all kinds of intended resemblance to the real thing.

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