Doing a W-Take – The Advocate, 4/30/2002

On a recent business trip to Seattle, I was put up in the W Hotel. Fabulous! Whatever you like about your accommodations – the tasteful chenille throw on the fainting couch placed just so by the perfectly treated window, the 400 thread count pillow shams, the reading light over the bed – you can order in their in room catalogue. It was like an over night in a high end Pottery Barn. Everywhere are little tasteful, monogrammed Ws and each time I saw one, I did a W- take. They gave me the willies. That concerned me.

Apparently I’ve been driving people crazy, taking my job as Designated Bush Watcher a little too seriously. No one else seems to care. They don’t want to hear it. I start talking about the latest Bush wacky idea and it’s as if I’ve suddenly sprung a wicked case of middle school B. O. Put me in a cave and I could smoke ’em out.

So excuse me for harshing your mellow, for stepping on your smile. I for one am trying to learn to kick back and enjoy this war. And, come to find out that W in George’s name doesn’t just stand for War. There’s a whole lot of wonderful W going on out there.

W – for women. There’s that axis of estrogen around George – Matalin, Rice and Hughes. Tom Brokaw in his day in the life White House special, “Touched by a President” whispered reverentially, “They’re right down the hall from him!” Bush is helping Liddy Dole to succeed Senator Jesse Helms in North Carolina, or as she stressed when announcing her candidacy, “I say succeed, for no one can replace him.” FYI, Helms said he was sorry that he did not do more to about AIDS. It was not clear what he meant.

W – for Winfrey. Heck, I’m not sweating politics any more. Forget that annoying political process. Bloomberg bought the New York mayoralty. Corzine bought himself a New Jersey Senate seat. I’d like to buy a vowel – O. Let’s run Oprah for president with Martha Stewart as her running mate. Dr. Phil for Secretary of the Inferior.

W – for wealth. We can just hope that Enron and Arthur Anderson, where apparently every day was Casual Day, were not products of the math education program in Texas. They were just paying it forward. Thank goodness all that bankruptcy unpleasantness is just confined to Enron/Arthur Anderson. It is, right? Isn’t it? With Clinton it was about him getting laid. With Bush it’s about all of us getting Layed. Just as Phillip Morris, without hint of irony, has recently changed its name to Alteria, from the Latin meaning “high,” Enron should change its name to Blanco Casa.

W – for Winter Olympics. I for one was disappointed there was no Osmond tossing. Next time instead of medals, let’s do pass/fail. I’m glad the Games are over, so I can settle down for the next stop on the Bread and Circus Circuit of diverting entertainment – aWard season. The Oscars, the Tonys, the ESPYs, The Golden People’s Choice Awards, the Putting on Your Socks Best Awards.

W – for Wayback Machine. The Pentagon has a cool new Office of Information Awareness headed by John Poindexter. Despite his title he always declines to be interviewed. He specializes in data mining. For those of you who thought a Poindexter was a type of guy, not an actual guy, John was convicted in the Iran/Contra Reagan era scandal. That had to do with drug money for terrorists, not to be confused with the new ads from Bush’s Drug program called Compassionate Coercion. It would be personally helpful for me and my delicate state if they would use that little Olympic upper left hand corner “Live” notation when some of these guys are speaking, if they ever speak.

W – for warming. Global that is. Here in the Northeast it’s been the warmest winter since records have been kept. And we’re in drought condition. That old saying, “Everybody complains about the weather, but nobody does anything about it” is now wrong.

W- for Wahhabism – A dour reformed style of Islam, which stomped out the ornate, liberatory Sufi branch of Islam and made it possible for men to have relations with women, but only in the afterlife. I’m fascinated by those suicide bombers who believe they will be rewarded in paradise by 72 black-eyed virgins. Is it 72 per? Or 72 total? And how did they get those black eyes?

W – for Whoa! I’m veering again. Gonna take a chill pill, take a shower, go lie down, pop a couple of pretzels.