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My favorite party favor
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I have this friend that I’ve known for a few years now, he’s an interesting kind of guy. He became a U.S. citizen about 20 years ago and has some incredible ideas about our political process, and our politicians.

He is a seriously die-hard Democrat. As I think most of you have gathered by now, I am not. I love to prod him about what his spinning wheels are telling him to think next. The latest conversation took place over the Thanksgiving holiday.

My friend, whom I will refer to as “Mr. H.,” came here from Jordan. He still loves his country, but doesn’t want to live there anymore, as you can probably figure out why. He has embraced being American.

After having bagels and coffee, there were a couple of us just sitting around the breakfast table jaw-jackin’ when I asked Mr. H what his thoughts were on our current President.

He made a face and then launched into his attack on Dick Cheney.

“Whoa, whoa, Mr. H! I said ‘the president,’ not Dick Cheney!” I laughed.

“There you have it!” he said with his still rather heavy Middle-Eastern accent, “It is Dick Cheney who runs the government now, NOT Prrrresident Boosh! If you want to talk about President Boosh, I’ll tell you about HEEM! He is the reason for the 9/11 attacks on New York! He was aware! He had all that information and he did nothing! Sat on his hands … he could have stopped it, but he didn’t! That is why all this problems stills going on with that Katrina! If President Boosh had acted in time, we would not have had all this problems!”

I laughed again, because it really was funny listening to the ills of our country being blamed on one person. The president.

“So, Mr. H, you think that Boosh could have stopped all of that with a couple of phone calls?”

“Yes! Probably so! He knew … he knew!” he said, holding up a finger of indignation.

I shook my head, laughing at the incredulousness of it all.

“Well, who is going to be our next president?” I asked him, leaning across the table to grab the last half of a blueberry bagel.

Mr. H raised an eyebrow and smiled a half smile, saying quietly, “Hillary. Naturally.”

I spit the bite of blueberry bagel across the room and got up to go fetch it, saying, “Please say it ain’t so, Mr. H! Please tell me you do not want another Clinton in the White House!”

“Oh yes! She will be president, I am sure! Bill Clinton was one of the best presidents we have ever had!”

“Were you living in Jordan during his reign as The Slickster? Is that why you are so convinced of that?” I asked, totally disbelieving what I was hearing.

“Clinton had the best economic record!”

“Yes, thanks to Reagan!”

“No, Clinton did all that work himself! He brought down taxes, he brought down unemployment… and if it hadn’t been for the Jews, there never would have been a Monica Lewinsky!”

This was where the raucous laughter started.

“Monica LewINsky?” I asked, “What does she have to do with anything, except to prove what a creep Clinton was and is?”

He waved me off, the look on his face one of total exasperation.

“It was a set up by the Jews! The Jews are running our country! They wanted Clinton out, so they sent in Monica Lewinsky to ruin him, and now, those Jews, they have erected a statue in Israel for her!”

“Really? A Monica Lewinsky statue … in Israel?”

“Yes! It’s true! Once again, the Jews get their way!”

Well, don’t that beat all, I thought.

“So, Mr. H, tell me … really … what do you think about the Jews?” I asked, knowing full well what he was going to say.

“What can I say?” he started, throwing up his hands, “they run our country and there is nothing we can do about it! Till we get rid of Boosh!”


Does Mr. H sound like a conspiracy theorist?


Just a Democrat.