I’m falling down on the job. My staff of thousands reminds me it’s been a while since I’ve paid
any attention to Gee Dubya Shrub. The reason, easy to understand, may be summed up in two
words: Der Gropenfuhrer. Culifornia’s lemmingmeister has loomed so large he’s
edged li’l Shrub out of the frame. This morning, however, I didn’t have to look far to see that li’l
Shrub has managed to edge himself back in.
My two favorite punching bags met yesterday and proceded to spin like tops. Li’l Shrub
briefed the press afterward with prepared wisecracks about how much he and Der
Grope had in common — marrying well, speaking English badly and big biceps. I don’t
think his speech writer intended any reference to family values and concern for the culture,
or for physical culture, but there you have it. Meantime Der Grope seemed to
get his spin signals wrong. “According to accounts on both sides,” today’s New
York Times reported, “little of substance was discussed.” But Der Grope told the
press they spoke “at great length about the problems of California.”
Whom to believe? I suppose it’s possible that when li’l Shrub matched biceps with Der
Grope, it was code for comparing the California and U.S. budget deficits. Or maybe it was
code for the $9-billion energy rip-off of California by Enron and
other Texas-based corporations. But I really doubt that. A 15-minute one-on-one, plus 30 minutes
in the same room with advisers, and another 15 minutes alone together in li’l Shrub’s limo doesn’t
sound like a meeting of substance so much as a melding of sweet nothings.
