The First 100 Days ... After: A Primer for George W. Bush
In all of our lives, there are some inevitable looming tragedies that must be faced: the death of a parent, the end of childhood, and, of course, the end of our Presidential terms. Well, Mr. George W. Bush is facing such a trauma, and there's no question it's going to be rough.
After all, of the 42 ex-Presidents of the United States, only four are still alive. That's over a ninety percent mortality rate. That’s worse than 'Nam.
And without a doubt, the hardest part of an ex-Presidency is the first hundred days. That period when the country is abuzz over your replacement, yet the office is still so fresh in your mind that you sometimes awake in the middle of the night demanding to speak to the Russian Premiere, or absent-mindedly threaten to have the CIA kill an annoying neighbor before realizing your error and breaking down in a crying jag right there in the jam aisle.
But Mr. Carter’s laughable shortcomings aside, Bush’s recent purchase of a new homeCoping With Cancellation: A Presidential Primer
Fish vs. Pond: People are judged on a relative scale. When you were the President, the citizenry of the United States (or at least 29% of them) granted you the use of all of their collective balls (and, for the sake of sexual equality, let’s say ovaries). This left you with huge, swinging ovary testicles that you could fluff and sit on and show off basically anywhere you went. Your balls were so stuffed with ovaries that you had to have guys in black suits and plastic wires in their ears with you at all times. Well, like the aged tend to do, your balls have shrunk. The important thing is to display them in their best light, like how holding a ping-pong ball next to a Monopoly house makes the ping-pong ball look huge by comparison.
So let’s look at which neighbors your importance is likely to be measured against.
Notable Preston Hollow residents include:
Use this to your advantage, by reminding him of what a crappy President you turned out to be. Try loudly thanking him for the job when you run into him at the corner market. Soon enough, you’ll be chairing the HOA committee on pool maintenance.
Mark Cuban
I’m not saying you should do that, I’m just saying it’s your best bet.
Retaining Your Celebrity: Try and keep some of that White House heat going if you can. There’s a long, cold Winter ahead, and nabbing a few headlines in regional papers can go a long way towards keeping you from chowing down on two barrels of sweet, sweet release.
Clinton’s got his wife to lean on, and Carter’s got the whole Habitat for Humanity thing. Even your Dad gets called in to give political advice now and then. Of course, Laura Bush’s political career has about the same outlook as Fergie’s, so no help there. And if someone calls you asking for political advice, just hang up; it’s a prank. I know what you’re thinking, but don’t fret—there’s no need to resort to philanthropy just yet.
Instead, stick to what made you our beloved leader in the first place. Buy a company, run it into the ground. Invite Rove and Cheney over for secret “planning sessions,” even if you just end up watching old tapes of Felicity and talking about boys all night. Maybe even pick up your cocaine habit again (there’s- Preemptively trim a neighbor’s encroaching hedges before they can invade your lawnspace.
- Orchestrate a massive surge…of delicious, homemade bean dip!
- Bug the driveway with a concealed baby monitor to find out who keeps swiping your newspaper.
- Use the neighborhood newsletter to leak vital information regarding Laura’s Vagisil prescription.
- Hold an impromptu press conference with the family dog to announce your withdrawal from the yard.
- Watch an old war movie and pretend like you know why the losing side lost.
- Finally get back at that kid who keeps egging your car by violently invading the house of someone who has nothing to do with him, but looks kind of similar.
- Call and demand a recount of your cellular minute overages.
- Veto Laura’s yam casserole. Or, if she topped it with a layer of marshmallow, consider a line-item veto.
- Head on down to the local hardware store and locate the WMD’s (Weapons of Mouse Destruction).
- Beat one of your children, just so they know who’s boss.
The fact that your community’s housing covenant banned black residents “except as servants” until the year 2000 may be a bit of a concern. In fact, now that I think about it, that’s actually a huge problem. Like, super fucked up. Really? 2000? Jesus. Kanye may have something to say about that.
But most importantly of all, welcome your successor with grace and aplomb. Not that he’ll care, but you might guilt him into inviting you to a dinner at the White House, and you can hide in the Lincoln bedroom for a few precious hours.
When not clinging to election reportage for dear life, Michael serves as head writer and co-founder of Those Aren't Muskets!
