Coping With Cancellation: A Presidential Primer

you’ll be chairing the HOA committee on pool maintenance. Mark Cuban—He’s richer than you, owns several sports teams and an HDTV network, and appeared on Dancing With The Stars. Okay, this one might be tough. You could learn to dance, but that’s just asking for a debilitating injury. Your best bet is to have one of your SS guys run him down in a black sedan. 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 a friend that’ll never abandon you). In short, just get back to your roots. You’re out of D.C. now, it’s time to let your hair down and party like a largely forgotten rock star. Like, say, a Nugent. That’s you. You’re President Nugent. In fact, asking people to call you that might generate some press of its own. As Powers Fade: A lot of the perks you’ve grown accustomed to over the last eight years are going to change, and quickly. No longer will it be within your power to call in air strikes, know what the deal is with aliens, or force Emeril to give you his secret gumbo recipe on pain of waterboarding. The key to coping with this immense and crippling loss of power is to exercise what powers you still retain, and realize that, though in some sense crippled, you remain a self-actualized individual with the ability to affect the world around you. If you’re feeling a little powerless, why not:

• 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.

Not Being Racist: When trying to maintain the image of dignity and grace, it’s vitally important that you not come off as a racist old coot. 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!

More Blogs