Clinton & Me

by Michael Graham

  But women still view him as their best friend in public office, their knight in . . . well, if not shining armor, then only slightly stained armor. This is one reason I, as a man, am so offended by women’s stiff-kneed defense of President Cretin as a typical American male.

  My God, what must they think of the rest of us?

  And yet, whatever they think of us men, Clinton’s female voters think even less of his women. Kate Michelman, pro-abortion extreminatrix, actually said of Paula Jones, “It is unrealistic for anyone to think that groups like NARAL and other women’s rights groups are going to jump on board when she [Jones] was being promoted and bankrolled by groups that hold extreme anti-women views.”

  In other words, President Clinton can fondle all the pro-lifers he wants.

  Even more fascinating are the catty, class-related observations about Kathleen Willey coming from members of the American women’s movement. Paula and Gennifer couldn’t get a “poor dear” from their fellow females. Meanwhile, University of Wisconsin political scientist Charles O. Jones noted that Kathleen Willey’s status in politics and society “means that more attention is going to be paid to her. More women will pay attention for the combination of who she is and the nature of the act.”

  Once again, the message from the left is clear: Bop all the big-hair types you want, Mr. President—we’ll make more!

  Not that the well-bred Willey is getting a completely free ride from the sisterhood. I am amazed at the number of women who have commented that, because of her offer to bring the president chicken soup, she should have known that their “flirtatious” relationship would result in an aggressive session of federal frisking at the Oval Office.

  There is a mentality among some of America’s most intelligent women that it is incumbent upon every female who approaches the president to do so with a whip-and-chair attitude. The subtext is that unless you walk into the White House prepared to beat back the attacks of the First Fondler, you are asking for trouble.

  No one will ever accuse American women in the late twentieth century of not being intellectually flexible. But ladies, are you really prepared to replace the glass ceiling with the “ass ceiling”? Do you truly believe that for low-income women to move up in the world, their slacks should come down?

  The unbending support of American women for one of the most cretinous, shameless and personally destructive womanizers to enter the public arena raises legitimate suspicions among men, suspicions we have long harbored about the distaff double standard. You whine and complain about us regular-Joe types, who forget birthdays, let dishes pile up in the sink and don’t understand how you could possibly sit through Titanic the first time, much less go back. To you, we are insensitive louts who just don’t get it.

  But at the same time, you welcome our pants-free president with open arms of understanding and compassion. As long as he “feels your pain,” he’s welcome to feel up everything else of yours along the way.

  The typical husband glances at a passing thong, and you blame him. Bill Clinton reaches into an employee’s underwear, and you blame her!

  What do women want? Only their president knows for sure.

  Silver Linings

  * * *

  February 1998

  Consider the events of the day:

  Grim-faced Republicans trod stoically beneath the dark cloud of rising presidential polls. Democrats laugh nervously at their victory over scandal but hold their breath every time a newscaster uses the phrase “oral briefing.” The media provide a spectacle of self-flagellation, whipping themselves for the public cynicism they have inspired.

  And me? I am overcome by joy.

  Washington is in turmoil, but I arise each morning with a spring in my step. Commentators wring their hands, but I pass the day with a whistle and a smile. The media ask, “What hath Geraldo wrought?” but in the evening, as I log off the Drudge Report and climb into bed, the news of the world lulls me into a peaceful slumber.

  I, once imbued with social annoyance, find myself unusually sanguine: Even my kicks at the odd passing cat are insincere.

  It’s not just the cynic’s joy of having my lowest expectations for my fellow citizens confirmed beyond contradiction, though that is a nice bonus. No, I am enjoying the endorphin-like rush of having been dealt an inside straight when everyone at the table is bluffing, the thrill of victory one feels on a blind date when your escort reveals that she was once a sorority girl.

  Everything’s goin’ my way.

  We are at a unique confluence of political forces—right and left, local and national—that seem designed to convince the citizenry that government is run by and for buffoons, that laws are made to be broken by the same people who write them, and that perhaps, just perhaps, the best thing for our nation would be for good men to do nothing and let the idiots fend for themselves.

  In a word, freedom—the happy coincidence of a complete collapse of the government’s moral and social authority. And as a card-carrying member of the libertarian wing of the GOP, I couldn’t be happier.

  Historically, the two blunt instruments governments have used to beat down individual liberty have been morality (people should not be allowed to be naughty) and security (if we leave you alone, you might hurt yourself). Because people are reluctant to publicly oppose morality and because they privately suspect that, in fact, they are too stupid to prosper on their own, the fight for freedom has almost always been a losing proposition.

  Not anymore.

  Today, in the glorious Clinton era, the notion of government-inspired morality seems as quaint as a Just Say No bumper sticker. The idea of President Clinton proposing an expansion of government based on our nation’s “moral duty” is as unimaginable as a call by this president for a day of national chastity.

  When a nation has such low regard for government and the people who run it—even the ones they approve of (79 percent and climbing)—the masses are unlikely to give it new things to do. President Clinton’s strategy of staying in office long after he has become a laughingstock is successfully demeaning the power of every elected office in the land.

  And I say, “Hooray!” Newt Gingrich couldn’t do this much damage to the federal government with a SCUD missile.

  At the same time, how can a public that sets its moral bar low enough to accommodate President Limbo seriously demand the enforcement of laws against vices such as drugs, prostitution or gambling? Can you explain to a high school civics class why it’s okay for the president of the United States to pay off a twenty-one-year-old for her “services” with a $40,000 job at Revlon but a crime for Joe Blow to pay her $40 for the same “job” performed in the back of his Buick?

  President Clinton has single-handedly removed the government’s moral authority on any public issue. Liberty wins round one. Meanwhile, back home in South Carolina, there is a sea change regarding the issue of security, of whether or not people should be allowed to be stupid without government interference. Thanks to advocates of video poker, the answer is yes.

  The quasi-legal video poker industry has exploded across my home state of South Carolina. With its popularity has come a rise in libertarian thinking. Rednecks who support capital punishment for flag burners and a constitutional prohibition against interracial marriage have suddenly discovered Ayn Rand. Elected officials have begun articulating the once unspeakable sentiment that if freedom allows some people to fall through the cracks and to their own doom, that is not sufficient reason to restrict it. Folks, for South Carolina, this is practically a revolution!

  True, liquor by the drink is still illegal in the Palmetto State and some blue laws still linger, but the end is near. Once people in power announce their willingness to allow self-destructive behavior, the question quickly moves from “Should Bubba be in a bar Saturday night?” to “What right does the state have to keep him out?”

  Events in Washington, D.C., and Columbia, South Carolina, are together landing a one-two punch on the power of government. The fierc
ely partisan, win-at-all-costs defense of President Clinton is based on the assumption that government has no moral authority to maintain. The money-driven defense of video poker is premised on the belief that government has no hapless citizenry to protect.

  The result is citizens who have begun to ask the question “Then what is government for?” From the people who run said government, the answer comes ringing back: “To keep us in power! Now give us your money and go away!”

  An open-eyed citizenry is bad news for the institutions of government, but good news for those of us who always believed that individual liberty was more important than these institutions to begin with.

  As that great political theorist Mae West once said of marriage, “It’s a great institution; I’m just not ready to be institutionalized.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  * * *

  The Meaning of the Word Is

  Dear Hil

  * * *

  July 1998

  Dear Hil—

  Left this note on the dining room table next to the latest report on child immunization rates from the Department of Health and Human Services. Figured you would see it there first—plus I never feel comfortable leaving documents up in our room. Who knows when they’ll reappear? Ha, ha!

  I signed that card you picked out for Chelsea and had the new Secret Service guy drop it in the mail. At least, I told him to. These new guys Bruce Lindsey hired for me since that whole executive privilege thing came up, why, they’re so hard of hearing, I can’t tell if they know what I’m asking ’em to do half the time.

  Oh, and don’t bother having lunch brought in today. I’m going to be downstairs getting videotaped. No need to come down and watch—it’s just the usual testimony. You know, that old “truth, the whole truth, and nothing but” routine. Boy, isn’t it lucky we both went to law school? That sure paid off for us—with or without those Whitewater checks!

  Just kidding. Anyway, I know you’re busy taking the villages and raising the children right now, but there are a couple of things I need to let you know about before that out-of-control, right-wing nut job Starr shows up with his video cameras.

  Baby, you and I know that those vicious Republicans will stop at nothing to destroy the political principles that I have stood for all of my life. Some ideals are too important to compromise, like opposing the balanced budg . . . I mean protecting the safety net of welfar . . . uh, like nationalizing health ca . . . Well, Hillary, I don’t have to tell you how important these principles are.

  That’s why the morning you went on the Today show and stood up against the vast right-wing conspiracy was one of the proudest days of my life. I believe we turned a corner that morning, as a nation and as a couple. In a way, you and I have come to represent all of America.

  Hillary, I believe you represent the idealistic desires of the American people to use government power to improve and direct the lives of everyday citizens by redistributing wealth, ensuring justice and ending undesirable behavior. Meanwhile, my presidency represents what the government actually does to people once it gets all that power.

  And polls indicate that most people like it, especially women.

  Because we represent so much to so many, our enemies are determined to tear us apart. But we’ve always come out okay when we stick together. It’s like that time in college when you found me naked in the pool with those girls from the swim team. You immediately wanted to jump to conclusions, but I swear, baby, if I hadn’t torn off my clothes and jumped in to help them, those two girls would not be alive to serve as senior staffers in the Commerce Department today.

  I’ll never forget how hurt I was when you left me and started dating that poli sci major from Boston. I was crushed. But eventually we got back together, and history proves it was for the best. Without you, I would never have become the proud husband and father I am, and I seriously doubt that poli sci grad would have made you America’s greatest First Lady—in fact, I don’t think she’s ever run for public office, has she?

  The point is, we’ve got to stick together. In the next few days, you’re going to hear a few things that might upset you. You might hear about some DNA samples on a cocktail dress. You might hear that I have slightly modified some of my testimony from that deposition in the Paula Jones case. You may hear something about games of Princess Warrior and Thunder King at a late-night Oval Office party . . . (No, wait! You haven’t heard that! Just skip it—it’s nothing.)

  Honey, I swear I can explain this whole Monica mess. Like the stains on that dress, for example. We all know that when she stormed out of the White House because I would not give in to her feminine wiles, that Lewinsky woman went straight to the Pentagon. Well, if you’re a buddy of Linda Tripp and you’re part of the conspiracy, how hard would it be to get a sample of my bodily essence from that top-secret file they keep on every president? (Didn’t I tell you about that? Why, they’ve still got bucketfuls of the stuff from JFK. Some top-secret cloning project. Very X-Files.)

  I know sometimes you’re tempted to doubt me, baby, but you’ve got to remember why we’re sticking together in the face of these false charges. These lies have one purpose only: to bring down my presidency and with it its most important legacy, namely, the protection from future prosecution we both enjoy. (By the way, did you ever get the real paperwork from the commodities deal a while back?)

  Hillary, I’m prepared to stand with you, to trust you when you tell me that I am mistaken about your orders to “fire those lazy bastards” in the Travel Office. I believe you when you tell me that those papers in my bureau for two years weren’t under subpoena. I am absolutely ready to testify that it was not you who sent that “useful galoot” Craig what’s-his-name to pick up every FBI file that wasn’t nailed down.

  I swear, honey—I believe every word you say. All I’m asking is that you do the same.

  Gotta run, baby!

  Your Bill

  P.S. There’s some cold chicken in the icebox. Don’t wait up!

  Clinton for Dummies

  * * *

  July 1998

  The president of the United States just made the most amazing four-minute speech in American history, putting his final mark on the White House intern scandal. While political junkies and Sunday talk show geeks like me are wallowing happily in the bottomless swamp of Clinton commentary, those of you with actual lives have been giving Monica Mania the casual attention it deserves. Instead of tossing my two cents’ worth into the endless stream of talking heads, I offer this primer on the speech in the hope that you regular Joes and Josephines can discover the joy of writing your own intern sex jokes in the privacy of your own homes.

  THE SPEECH

  Length of speech: 4 minutes, 5 seconds.

  Amount of time the president spent explaining his relationship with Monica Lewinsky: 1 minute, 40 seconds.

  Amount of time the president spent attacking Ken Starr: 2 minutes, 25 seconds.

  Amount of time since the scandal broke that the president and his agents have spent falsely attacking Monica Lewinsky, Linda Tripp and the vast right-wing conspiracy: 218 days.

  Purpose of the speech: To save his presidency by apologizing to the American people for denying—under oath and also on television—that he had sex with Monica Lewinsky.

  Number of times in the president’s apology he actually used the words apology or apologize: None.

  Number of times he used the word sorry: None.

  Number of times the president used the words lied, cheated or ashamed: None, none and are you kidding?

  What did the president actually apologize for? Good question. The closest statement to an apology was: “I know that my public comments and my silence about this matter gave a false impression. I misled people, including even my wife. I deeply regret that.”

  Didn’t he apologize for having sex with a twenty-one-year-old intern in the Oval Office? Not exactly.

  Okay, how many times did he admit to having sex with Monica? He didn’t give
a number, but Monica has testified that if you include the time they sneaked into the Lincoln Bedroom for a quick “staff meeting” . . .

  No, I meant how many times in his speech did he mention their sexual relationship? None.

  How many times did he use the word sex? None.

  So did he admit they had sex or didn’t he? He said, “I did have a relationship with Lewinsky that was not appropriate. In fact, it was wrong.” That’s it.

  Well, a relationship that is “not appropriate” could mean anything. He could have been talking dirty to her, the way Clarence Thomas did to Anita Hill, or he could have been trying to get her signed up in some multilevel marketing program. How do we know that the president really had sex with Monica Lewinsky? This is “Clinton for Dummies,” not “Clinton for Complete and Utter Morons.”

  How did the president look? Remarkably bruise-free, given the fact that he spent most of the weekend with Hillary. Commentators described him as “wooden” (Slate), as “more defiant then contrite” (Washington Post) and as still having “a nice butt” (Time magazine’s Nina Burleigh).

  The president’s lawyer told reporters that the president testified “completely and truthfully” to the criminal grand jury before he gave the speech. Is that right? No. The president flatly refused to answer several questions, so he didn’t testify completely. We will have to wait to find out about the “truthfully” part.

  But he must have told the truth! Surely this man, more than any other, has learned his lesson about lying. He would never lie again, right? Actually, no. In fact, the president lied in his speech.