Beating Around the Bush

by Buchwald, Art

  It was confirmed on my car radio when I left the bar.

  When I got home I saw it on CNN.

  The Washington Post printed the congressman’s escapade on page 1, pointing out a lobbyist for the Choctaws had helped finance the trip. An earlier story said the indictment of DeLay’s close associates (charges DeLay claims were politically motivated) had Republican lawmakers worried the majority leader might be forced to step aside.

  I couldn’t believe DeLay, a former undertaker, could do anything wrong—certainly not play golf with Indian tribe money at St. Andrews.

  But I needed more verification.

  I went to my computer and typed in “www.DeLay/Indian Gambling@St.AndrewsGolf.com.”

  My computer came up with hundreds of Google results.

  There was, “DeLay plays golf with Indian gambling money,” and another one, “Rich fat cats in Texas meet with DeLay to discuss moral values,” and “Oil executives count on DeLay to pass legislation giving them tax breaks.”

  I was disappointed I couldn’t find “DeLay golf scores” either on Google or Yahoo. But I had enough information to confirm the story was for real.

  The next thing I read was from the bloggers.

  There was message after message for and against the congressman.

  One blogger wrote, “Tom DeLay doesn’t like gambling, but he has to think of who will pay for his trips abroad.”

  Another said, “There are few Choctaws in Houston, but I am going to get the ones who live there to vote for DeLay.”

  It was not only the Indians who financed DeLay’s trip to Britain, but also the Christian Right, who are supposed to be against gambling and same-sex marriage.

  Tommy, from Greenwich, wrote, “The Democrats are giving golf a bad name.”

  So, as we say in the newspaper business, the story had legs.

  I filed it away because DeLay is now making news every day. It is my duty to separate the bloggers from the fair and balanced media.

  We are entering a new age of news. I maintain that blogging is taken as fact—so much so that many papers pick up the blogs and print it as news.

  That is why I still hang out at the K Street Bar.

  The Quiet Ambassador

  THE ONLY REASONS his critics don’t want John Bolton to be the U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations are that he is a terrible diplomat, he dislikes the U.N., he has a short temper, and he is a bully. Outside of that he is Bush’s kind of appointee.

  This is what his detractors fear he will do if he gets the job.

  John Bolton, in a Security Council meeting, turns to the French U.N. ambassador, who has made a speech about Iraq, and says, “Oh yeah?”

  The French ambassador says, “Oh oui.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you didn’t have diplomatic immunity.”

  “I can say anything I want to.”

  Bolton says, “Let’s step outside and I will knock your teeth out.”

  “I don’t want to step outside and fight you. I am a black belt in karate and a kick boxer, but my instructions are to solve all disputes in the U.N. diplomatically.”

  Bolton says, “My instructions from Washington are to do anything to win. And if any country disagrees with us we will shove the veto vote down their throat. Why don’t we go down to the U.N. gym and have it out with bare knuckles?”

  “Monsieur Ambassador, you are, as we say in France, a brute—a bully.”

  “And you are nothing more than a cowardly frog.”

  “And you are a money-grubbing flea.”

  John says, “If we go to the top floor I will throw you out the window.”

  “You don’t even know where the top floor is. You said in your speech that a top floor at the U.N. building is a waste of space and so are the other floors.”

  Bolton says, “I am beginning to lose my temper. When I lose it I throw things at people.”

  “I am sure you do. Put that Oil-for-Food trophy down.”

  “I am going to tell Condoleezza I tried to drill some sense into your dumb head.”

  “And I am going to tell President Chirac never to invite your president to Versailles.”

  Bolton leaves the Security Council floor and he sees the Cuban delegate running down the hall and chases him. The man runs into a restroom and locks the door.

  Bolton bangs on the door and yells, “Fidel, or whatever your name is, if you don’t come out in three minutes we will bomb Havana.”

  “Why now?” the delegate asks.

  “Because we know you are building biological bombs to spread germs all over Miami. And even if you are not, the president would like to bomb someplace only 90 miles away.”

  Two of Bolton’s aides drag him back to the office.

  He says, “I’ve really had a bad day. Bring in some of the staff so I can chew them out.”

  After harassing them he calls Condoleezza Rice in Washington. “Madam Secretary? I am having a bad day. Whatever country we oppose votes against us. Fifty percent of all the members hate us. And 50 percent that we give aid money to despise us.”

  “John, we have to do what’s right for America.”

  “I would like to kick the Russian ambassador in the you-know-where.”

  “Don’t do it until the president gives the word. How are you doing with the Chinese over North Korea?”

  “I am not talking to the Chinese ambassador.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he won’t apologize for parking his limousine in my reserved space.”

  “You’ve done a great job and we appreciate it.”

  Bolton says, “Thank you. I think I have done well, considering I have only been here two weeks.”

  Happy Mountain

  A WISE MAN ONCE told me, “War is hell, but it is good for the economy.”

  He was talking about the Pentagon’s announcement that it intends to close down military bases all over the country. What he really was talking about was “jobs.”

  Nobody wants a war, but he or she wants to manufacture the stuff that you need to fight one.

  Even your most dovish congressman or senator does not want to close a military installation in his or her own back yard.

  Congressman Everett F. Livid said, “You don’t close bases to save money. That is not the American way. I will fight or filibuster any attempt to chop the installation at the Happy Mountain Air Force base in my district.”

  “But the Cold War is over.”

  “It could start again at any moment, and I want this country prepared to bite the bullet.”

  “But Rumsfeld says by closing the bases he will save taxpayers billions of dollars.”

  “It isn’t his money, it’s the taxpayers’ money.”

  “Why don’t you be honest about it? If your base is closed and 14,000 people are put out of work, it could cost you the next election.”

  Livid snapped, “What a terrible thing to say. We have to give our brave boys the best defense money can buy. I have been in Iraq and every soldier thanked me for what we are doing for them at home.”

  “Do you think the president approved of Rumsfeld’s hit list?”

  “I am sure he didn’t know anything about it.”

  “How do you know?”

  He was surprised and told me the only thing he is interested in is Social Security reform. I pointed out that if people could invest in the stock market, and the bases were closed, the military industrial complex bubble would burst, and people would lose their savings.

  “What you were telling the president in effect is, if he allows Rumsfeld to close the base in your district, you would not vote for his Social Security reform.”

  “I wouldn’t put it that way. Look, the economy of Happy Mountain feeds off of the base—barbers, real estate, coffee shops, and Wal-Mart. McDonald’s has announced it is ready to pull out if the base is closed.”

  “Have you told Alan Greenspan about this?”

  “All he cares about is raising the interest rate.”
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  “How do you feel about the closings of bases in other states?”

  “I don’t care about them. If we are going save money I prefer the other states take the hit.”

  I told Congressman Livid, “This is the first time I’ve seen you so livid.”

  “How can I go home and face the people who thought I would protect them?”

  “It won’t be easy,” I admitted. “But what Rummy says and what he does are two different things. The pressure is going to be on him.”

  “If the plan goes through, and the people at the base protest in the streets, it will be safer to go to Iraq than Happy Mountain. I have just begun to fight. And so has everyone in congress. Our slogan is, ‘Don’t Close Our Bases—Close Theirs.’”

  “That’s a good banner to hang on Main Street,” I said.

  “That, and, ‘War Is Hell, but It Still Buys Your Groceries.’”

  Where Were You?

  HERO OR TRAITOR? That is what people are calling “Deep Throat” (a.k.a. Mark Felt).

  People are choosing up sides, as they usually do, when an important news event takes place.

  The ones who always believed Watergate was a nasty piece of work consider him a hero.

  He put his career and his life on the line to save the country from Richard Nixon. At the time, he was the most important whistleblower in the government.

  For over thirty years no one knew who he was. Of course he is a hero to Woodward and Bernstein because he made them famous and rich and a credit to their profession.

  Mr. Felt is admired in circles that believe in the Constitution and hate presidents who cover up crimes for the sake of politics.

  I must admit I am one of Felt’s hero worshippers.

  I always suspected when Nixon said, “I am not a crook,” that he was one, and when he started talking to the paintings on the White House walls, that he was going around the bend.

  I believed everything Woodward and Bernstein wrote and I trusted them.

  Not everyone in America believed Deep Throat was a hero. When the story of his identity broke, the television news producers yelled, “Get me anyone who was involved with Watergate and is mad at Mark Felt.”

  I watched a stream of people who worked for Nixon parade across the TV screen. Most of them had been in jail, so it was not surprising they would not be kind to one of the people who had put them there.

  Pat Buchanan was bitter (when is he not?) and called Mr. Felt a “snake.” He then charged that Felt was responsible for thousands of deaths in Vietnam because of causing anti-war demonstrations.

  You figure that one out. I couldn’t.

  John Dean III said the information Deep Throat supplied was only 50 percent correct. He claimed there would be egg on “Throat’s” face when all the facts come out.

  Charles Colson said Felt was wreaking revenge on Nixon because he was not made the head of the FBI.

  Gordon Liddy, who has his own radio show, had nothing good to say about Felt. He said the only reason for revealing his identity now was to make money on a book.

  By the way, Felt did not leak information to the reporters. He just confirmed things they already knew.

  Several of those of the “traitor” persuasion had mixed feelings about it. They, like Al Haig, didn’t approve of what Felt did, but were relieved they no longer had to prove it wasn’t them.

  Some of the major players that Deep Throat confirmed to Woodward and Bernstein keep showing up on the TV screen.

  Nixon and John Mitchell are now in that Watergate in the sky. Others, like Bob Haldeman, Jeb Magruder, and Howard Hunt are still around, but have lost faith in the FBI.

  The story won’t die. For years people will ask each other, “Where were you the night Deep Throat was in a garage?”

  The only ones who can truthfully say are Woodward and Bernstein.

  Hate in America

  MILTON SAID, “Why does everyone write about how much the world hates America, and no one writes about why Americans hate each other?”

  “I was thinking about it,” I said. “Why do you think they do?”

  “I can’t blame it ALL on President Bush, but the hate factor in the country was raised to a new high when he said it was politically correct to do it.”

  “How so?”

  “Hating fellow Americans didn’t become serious until Bush decided to invade Iraq. Then both sides came out of the closet. The conservatives said war was a dandy idea, and the liberals said it was a lousy one. When it was discovered that there were no weapons of mass destruction, which was the reason for going to war, the liberals attacked the president. The conservatives called the anti-war people ‘traitors.’”

  “That was strong language,” I told Milton.

  “Adding gasoline to the fire were the ‘elite’ media (the L.A. Times, Washington Post, and the New York Times) who editorialized that we got into a lousy war and didn’t know how to get out.”

  Milton continued, “Commentators like Bill O’Reilly and Rush Limbaugh told Americans to hate the liberals. It was a sure fire way of getting ratings.”

  “I hate O’Reilly and Rush Limbaugh,” I said, “because they hate me.”

  Milton said, “But what is really tearing the country apart is God. Every group insists they know what God wants for America. People are fighting over the Pledge of Allegiance in the schools, the Ten Commandments on government property, and whether Americans came from Adam and Eve or from monkeys.”

  “I thought we settled that years ago,” I said.

  “So did most Americans, but the theories kept popping up,” Milton told me. “Things really got ugly when the religious right said if you don’t believe in Jesus then you are going to hell.

  “Evangelicals are now going all over the country asking—no demanding—that everyone be born again. The worst example is the Air Force Academy, where the cadets are asked to pledge their lives to Jesus. No one knows what blue skies they will fly into once they graduate.

  “Everything has a religious background. The Right to Life people are against stem cell research, abortions, and condoms. They are for guns, the Second Amendment, and the National Rifle Association.

  “One of the major issues is same-sex marriage. The Right opposes it and the Left, who could not care less, says, ‘Get off my back.’”

  I said, “Isn’t it now true that members of Congress really hate each other?”

  “It is worse than ever. There used to be civility in both houses. They once threw buns at each other, now they throw rocks.”

  “I guess they can’t pick a judge now without getting mad,” I said.

  “Are all these issues political?”

  “No,” Milton replied. “They are personal. Americans are not born to hate—it is taught to them at an early age—and once you learn it you will never let it go.”

  “Tell me this. Do the French hate Americans as much as we hate each other?”

  “It’s a close call, but we are catching up to them. I could go on and on listing the causes as to why there is so much animosity among Americans, but it won’t do anyone much good.

  “All I know is, I am right and they are wrong—and I am certain they will go to hell before I do.”

  Bless This House

  NO ONE LIKES to have his or her home taken away for no good reason. But you can’t stop progress. And if the city or town wants to seize and tear down property under “eminent domain,” the Supreme Court, by a 5-to-4 vote, has given them permission.

  One of the first places to have been affected was Happy Valley, a community whose houses date back to the Revolutionary War. Happy Valley overlooks the Chipchop Lake, only 40 miles from New York City.

  The residents are as happy as any can be these days, considering the price of gasoline, the war, and a recent high school drug problem, which is now under control.

  The day after the Supreme Court ruling, the three Happy Valley supervisors and noted developer Simon Legree, arrived at the Fenstress property. The hous
e was built soon after the revolution, and has been lived in by members of the family ever since.

  Legree took his out his digital camera and said, “It will be perfect. The shopping mall will be over there by the magnolias, the condos where those trees are now, and a business tower will be here, when we bulldoze the house.

  Fenstress came out of his house and asked the group, “What’s up?”

  Legree said, “Nothing that concerns you. These supervisors want to make this place a decent one for everyone. If it means taking your property away, that is the way the cookie crumbles.”

  “You can’t do that,” Fenstress said. “It is my house and I have no intention of selling it.”

  “You apparently have never heard of ‘eminent domain,’” a supervisor said. “We are not going to seize your land, we are going to improve it.”

  He continued, “Mr. Legree is one of the greatest developers on the East Coast. Whenever he sees a farmhouse he thinks ‘Wal-Mart.’”

  Fenstress said, “I’ll sue.”

  The case has already been decided,” Legree snorted. “The Supreme Court has ruled that you can’t stop the building of a Holiday Inn just to keep your house.”

  “The Constitution says a man’s home is his castle,” Fentress said.

  “Not anymore,” said Legree. “A man’s home is whatever the developer wants it to be.”

  A supervisor said, “We are not talking about land—we are talking about taxes. One Dunkin’ Donuts is worth more in taxes than you will make in a lifetime.”

  Fenstress was furious. “How can you do this to me?” he yelled.

  Another supervisor said, “We are not doing it just to you. We are doing it to everybody in the neighborhood. Legree wants protection in case he has to expand.”

  “Let me ask a question,” Fenstress said to the supervisor. “How much money is Legree contributing to your election campaign?”

  “I resent that. We don’t condemn property for political reasons. That would be unethical.”