Oh that man of ours, that selfless “Mr. President” George Dubayou Bush.
I am forced to take back all the nasty things I’ve ever said about or thought about inflicting on his person.
You see yesterday I read the accounts of his personal sacrifices for the war effort.
With so many dying in Iraq (and Afghanistan), with so many suffering losses of loved ones our Commander-in-Chief made the ultimate sacrifice.
Not satisfied with simply being a mouthpiece for sacrifice, George gave up golf.
Yes that is correct. No more drives, eagles, birdies or putts for our President.
As he stated in this quote "I think playing golf during a war just sends the wrong signal," he said in an interview for Yahoo! News and Politico magazine.
"I don't want some mom whose son may have recently died to see the commander-in-chief playing golf," he said. "I feel I owe it to the families to be in solidarity as best as I can with them."
And nothing says solidarity more then excusing yourself from whacking your balls all over the greens.
George may not be sinking putts any longer but he is still stroking it.
Mean while on the home front, ol' Bart is doing well. The saying goes "You can't teach an old dog new tricks" and it is one Meester Bart has taken to heart.
Oh he'll sit for a treat and he's so proud of the fact that he now waits patiently for the command of "good boy" before he digs in to eat but I don't believe he'll ever get rid of the notion that walks mean run, and squirrels and chipmunks are for bolting after.
I also don’t think he will ever answer to the name Bart. I wish I knew what his old name was. I’ve gone through the alphabet of names from Aaron-to-Zeus, and he answers to none, though I did get a slight response with Dick Nixon but I’m petty sure he was saying, “Please, get real, do I look like a slime ball?”
So I’ll just keep calling him Bart and maybe someday his name prior to becoming my dog will be known, not that it matters because by then he will have been Bart for so long it will not make a difference.
I was listening to a little Paul Butterfield on the way home last night, still good stuff.
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