The Wink

Obama has become a phenomenon.

He has “followers,” not supporters. Children sing him songs. Celebrities swoon.

He’s a rock star. The cult of personality personified.

I couldn’t help wondering what would happen if conservatives, for example, started a personality cult of their own …

Ronald Reagan used to talk about America being a shiny city on a hill. But, my whole life all I ever found was a dilapidated trailer park adorned with Walmart whicker citronella torches on top of a landfill. But I keep looking.

Whenever I went to Mexico or the Bahamas for spring break, (they don’t have politically correct liberal regimes in these countries and they serve you liquor without an ID), I would always pretend to be Canadian because I was ashamed to be from the same country as Bill Clinton who had single handedly, (he held the cigar in the other hand), made America synonymous with lip service and oral sex.

There were other reasons I pretended to be Canadian. It was embarrassing to be from the country with the only military that could turn any place into a parking lot with conventional arms-and that’s just one branch of service, the Marines- and be bitch slapped across the globe by a bunch of rag-tag suicidal religious fanatics while half of my country was more worried about their constitutional rights than what caliber slug would go between their crazed beady eyes.

I was also confused to live in a country where all the movie stars, ( I get ALL my historical perspective from Hollywood movies-and don’t laugh, the college professors who write all the history books are even more biased than Hollywood directors who at least have to answer to movie critics), who made believe for a living would come out of character, (or assume another character), and act like they cared about , global warming, for example, but then act like they we’re acting by turning around and acting totally contrary to the way they urged me to act. (See? It’s confusing.)

Anyway, I tough I would never reach the shiny city. I had lost hope for me and humanity. All seemed lost.

Then I hear her name. Sarah. A biblical name. That was good.

Then I saw her face. And now, I’m a believer. (Hey, if Barry O & co. can steal his campaign slogan from David Bowie, I can steal from The Monkeys.)

No, she didn’t make the oceans stop their rise or heal the planet, but she aroused me and healed my libido-and it is all about me, me, me. Not a shiny city on a hill but a shiny happy face atop two luscious mountains.

And then I heard her speech. A heavenly voice. And she talked about dogs and moms I love dogs and moms. I love dogs so much, I don’t even eat hot dogs, unless you call them frankfurters, in which case, I’ll eat them because I don’t love Frank, although I love frank people.

She was mesmerizing. She told stories of America’s last frontier, about moose and snow machines.

But when she spoke, I couldn’t really listen to her words because for I was so captivated by her personality and personal aura that all I heard was a choir of angels. Is she an angel? Was that a glow? Or was it the stage lights? It didn’t matter what she said. She could talk in circles for all I cared. It was all about her. Sa-Rah! Sa-Rah! Even her name was like a cheer! A mantra, a prayer.

She spoke of hockey and six packs and she was fertile. Five kids worth of fertile and still looked just like she did when she was a beauty queen years ago! Imagine… a beauty queen vice-president. Better looking than that Merkel woman and hotter than what his name in France’s model wife. Finally, something to be proud of! No longer would I have to hold my head in shame and pretend to be Canadian in front of all the people who hailed from countries America had liberated twice in one century!

And last night…sigh. Well, let me tall ya, I just love the way she says that, she can call me Joe or whatever she wants anytime she wants…she, Sarah, winked at me. Right in the middle of the most important day in her life, she looked right at the camera and winked at ME.

Imagine that, a candidate that winks at ME.

The sound of the ensuing ridicule would be deafening and well deserved and yet when you read people talk about Obama in such ridiculous terms, you hear crickets.

(Wink)