Soggy Bottom Boys

An entire weather system blew its way through the region yesterday. My partner called from Northeast Bremerton all in a panic because he was blocked in by a flooded thoroughfare. I could understand his distraught timbre; I would be anxious if I thought I might not get out of Bremerton. Sorry, Bremerton, it's just a thing I have about shuttered Eagle Hardwares, IHOPs and compteting 99-cent stores. Anyway, I was able to log onto Mapquest and guide him out via alternate routes. It took some time, getting my perspective right on the map, tilting my head to the side and trying to imagine my tiny self driving from the star to the exclamation point. All evening, the news was filled with people huddled behind sandbags and porches sagging under the rush of overflowing rivers.

Today, President Bush was tackling a news conference in which he was forced to address the intelligence report that confirmed that Iran is no closer to having nuclear weapons than they are adopting hot pants as the national garment. As I listened, I imagined beads of sweat forming at his brow as he tried to spin it all to his advantage. "I just found out this week." "They said before that they had news, but didn't tell me what it was." I wondered if the marionette strings were hurting his wrists as he talked. He sounded like my son when he tries to rationalize screaming at his brother for no good reason. "No, he didn't take my toy, but I could see that he was thinking about it and he might still do it when I'm out of the room. So there." It's all so bizarre, like a Stanley Kubrick film and if it weren't all so terrifying I'd be laughing until my knees gave out.

I have to wonder (political rantings continuing here): Past presidents have enjoyed illustrious post-office careers as lecturers, diplomats, writers, etc. What in tarnation will GWB do? Who will pay to hear him talk? I suppose there will still be people in that 27% who will do so. They'll still have 80% of the nation's wealth in their pockets, so they'll certainly be able to afford the ticket prices (and Ticketmaster fees). Maybe he'll write a book. "Ollie, Ollie Oxen Free: Eight Years of Hiding Behind the Bushes."