Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Behind Closed Doors

Sometimes there is more than one explanation as to how something came to be a certain way. And, not to be cynical, but sometimes the public explanation seems less likely than an alternative. I wasn't in either place, but here are a couple of possibilities outside the official explanations:

Man with large gavel presiding over a gathering of perhaps 100 or so people: "Welcome, y'all. This here's the very first meeting of the Tea Party Group, dedicated to better government and better value for the taxes they make us pay. If I may, first.."
Interruption from the floor: "Mr. Chairman, I move we take a minute to tell some racial jokes in order to get them out of the way so's we can move on to the agenda."
Chairman: "You're outa order, Cowboy. Sit down. Wait a minute." (after consulting) "Before continuing, I need to know, first, if there are any minorities here." (laughter) "I take that as a 'no.' I also need to know if we have any mainstream, drive-by media representatives present, besides, of course, our friends at FOX News. None? OK, here's the way it is. We can tell racial jokes, but only for half an hour, and not to anyone you see wearing a press pass, got it? OK, now y'all heard the one about Obama walkin' down the street, and up comes a rabbi wearin' a beard and a big ole' black hat......."

Levi Johnston, father of Sarah Palin's grandson is on the phone to his manager, Sol Overtown, top PR guy at Pro Claim Industries, provider of management services and self-proclaimed inventor of "hyper hype marketing".
LJ: "Yo, Sol. You're a tough guy to reach sometimes. How's it coming for some new work, huh?"
SO: "Levi, my man! Great to hear your voice, kid. You been workin' on that line like I asked?"
LJ: "What are you talking about?"
SO: "Yeah, that's the one, but faster. 'Whatchyou talkin' bout?' Remember?"
LJ: "Got it, Sol. But what's cookin' here?"
SO: "Well, we had plans to slide you into the Gary Coleman slot on a deal, but we can't get you top dollar for it."
LJ: "Why #$% not?"
SO: "Hey, they want a guy who can say the line AND who's under four foot six. What can I say? Of course we could go back to those seal hunting boots guys if you like and tell them you'll do it, but I'm just not sure they think your feet are unique enough for the money we're talking."
LJ: (sigh) "I hear you, man. You'd think being famous would be enough, wouldn't you? But I'm twenty now, so I've got some experience, y'know? I'm not just another pretty face."
SO: "I'm with you, LJ. You know, we did get a feeler on something, but I'm just not sure it's for you."
LJ: "Really? Well what is it?"
SO: "Well, it's from Sarah. I wouldn't even mention it, but this is one deal only you could be in on, if you know what I mean."
LJ: "Geez, what does SHE want? Isn't it enough I made her a grandma?"
SO: "Let me cut right to the chase. You're a smart kid and you can see the value of something in a second. Ever heard of a job called Postmaster General?"
LJ: "All the postmaster does around here is sell stamps all day. But the 'general" part sounds interesting. Does it mean I get to order guys to blow things up? Hey, could I blow something up?"
SO: "Ah, I'm not sure about the 'blowing up' part, but you could go all over the country and check out the postal operations. You know - Vegas, Boise, Miami, New York, Anchorage..."
LJ: "Wow. Anchorage. But wait. I bet Sarah wants me to do something, right?"
SO: "Like I say. You're a smart one, kiddo. There's two things that have to happen to get you in the job. First, Sarah's got to get elected president. She'll probably ask you to help get out the youth vote. Shouldn't be too hard. All she has to do is get more votes than ah, what's his name - the guy in there now."
LJ: "Yeah, that doesn't seem too hard. Anything else?"
SO: "One more thing. You gotta marry Bristol."
LJ: "Hmm. I see. OK, but she's gotta get down to her high school weight or it's off. AND I'm not taking her on these postmaster trips. That's a deal breaker."
SO: "You're the boss, kid. Hey, I do happen to have Bristol's number here."
LJ: "Hang on. Let me get a pencil."


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