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Let’s Get This Wedding Started (written 11-15-11)

Dearly Beloved:

We are gathered here today, in the presence of God and these witnesses…. Okay, okay, I cannot do this. Put down those shotguns. All I can say is God must be a Mormon because this wedding is going to happen. Republican Party, do you take Mitt “flip-flop” Romney to be your candidate? Take your time. Breathe in, breathe out. It’s okay. I know this is not true love. Well, it is not even like or tolerance for that matter. It is? what is the word…? “He is not Barack Obama”, yeah, that is it.

Stop looking at Rick Perry. I know you thought he was going to be your true love. He looks like a President, wore cowboy boots and your hearts went pitter-pat when you found out he likes to kill people. It was love at first sight. Then he had to open his mouth. Lamborghini body, with a rubber band engine. The only things that saved him, as long as they did, were the millions he had in the bank from the oil and gas lobbies, and that many of the things he said were muffled by his knuckles dragging on the ground. It is not like being dumb has ever disqualified a person from being President. Rusty hamster wheels turned faster than ideas in George W. Bush’s brain and hell for English teachers would be an eternity of diagramming his sentences. The difference is Karl Rove trained Bush to stick to three points, over and over again, regardless of the question. Perry was trained to remember two things, and I forget the third. It will come to me. No, that is not it. (To be fair, I am sure it will come out later that many of his problems have been due to painkillers and the aftermath of his back surgery.)

Don’t eye Herman Cain. At least ask him to remove his hand from your backside. I know he was your taboo love. A regular guy, businessman, who spoke like a common person, well, a common person who saves his feces and hair clippings in a plastic bag, but a common guy all the same. His 9 9 9 plan was pure genius, not economically, but it made you want to order a pizza; and by the time you finished the first slice, you have forgotten how insane what he just pushed was. I know, I know, the heavens opened and the beam of light shone on him, with maybe a dove descending, when he said, “The poor have no one to blame but themselves.” Then Herman got caught trying to stick his hand in a few cookie jars, time to blame the media, liberals, racists, Rick Perry and the "Democrat machine,” basically anyone but himself. You already have the reputation of being the Ike Turner of political parties when it comes to women. Herman Cain was not going to help. Let him get his Fox News show and return to selling a few books. That is all he wanted in the first place. He had no clue that your Presidential field would resemble an episode of “The Walking Dead.”

I know you can smell the Newtster’s Old Spice and Bengay, (i.e. old man smell). Don’t turn his direction. I know in your life he was like that middle-aged professor who asked you to be his teaching assistant when you were eighteen. You could not help but fall in love with him as he asked you pass out papers and give him nude back massages. He was a big idea man, whose wife did not understand him. Well, she probably didn’t understand him because she raising two little kids while battling cancer and was in the hospital, but I am only guessing. I know you can overlook the ethical violations, the persecuting of the President of the United States while he was doing the same thing in the back of his limo with a staff member, and his carnie-like hawking of books, dvds, and special awards. He just is not the man for you. How can I say that? Just say President Newt. It is kind of like saying President Vader, President Lecter, President Voldemort, or President Sauron?

Michele Bachmann is batting her crazy eyes and hoping you throw her the bouquet. I know it was an experimental stage, the relationship between the two of you, a lot of kissing and heavy petting. The Christian love in her heart moved you, especially when she whispered how Jesus told her to tell you to love your neighbor as you would yourself, except for the darned old gays. Look at all the evil that has broken out since homosexual marriage was allowed in Iowa… Hum, give me a second. I know there is something…. I haven’t seen any of armies of homosexuals, no cities being battered by fire and brimstone, or even farmers wearing pink seed corn company hats for that matter. Let me see… Oh, I had a bad piece of sweet corn this summer. I am sure that had something to do with gay marriage. She channeled the spirit of the John Wayne from her hometown, John Wayne Gacy that is, relocated the University of Iowa to Ames, bought into that whole vaccines are dangerous nuttery, and was a bit confused on her American history. Still, she promised to fix the economy through lowering taxes and deregulation, the same things that flushed our economy down the drain in the first place, and has made the Gulf oilier than a teenager’s face, but it might work. So might these magic beans I just bought.

Keep your eyes on Mitt. Don’t look to your right. There is Jon Huntsman. Who? Exactly. He is the guy in the debates who looks like he is about to snap and scream, “I am losing to these guys? Really? These guys?” You have already forgotten who I am talking about, haven’t you.

Just look at Mitt. So handsome, so right out of central casting of what a President should look like, so clean you almost expect him to be wearing one of those sashes that you find in a hotel room’s bathroom, on the toilet, that proclaim proudly “sanitized for your protection.” I know he is not your first choice or even your twenty-sixth choice for that matter, but he is going to say all the right things--well, really anything you want to hear. If you change your mind about something, don’t worry, Mitt is willing to change his too. Obamacare? Abortion? Unions? The Stimulus? Privatizing Social Security? Climate Change? Stem cell research? Amnesty for illegal immigrants? The minimum wage? Regulation of carbon emissions? Capital gains? TARP? Spending limts? Don’t ask, don’t tell? Gun control? Pretty much everything. Mitt was for them, before he was against them. If you think the sky is green, he will agree with you. And isn’t that what every woman wants in a husband?

Mitt is like one of those big chocolate bunnies you get at Easter. Delicious looking on the outside, but hollow clean through, which makes him the perfect beau. He is the tin man from the Wizard of Oz. No heart. So, don’t worry about that Mormonism. I know you think that it is a cult. Still, I am pretty sure, as the old saying goes, that he would trade a Catholic mass for a crown. Why would what church he goes to be the only thing he does not flip-flop on?

Mitt is a man of the people, that is if your people are from Hamptons. Okay, he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, has no concept of what the average person has to deal with, is kind of stiff, is as inspiring as narcoleptic Olympics; but he is all you got. Let me repeat. All you got. He’ll make up for his lack of any central principles or ideals by giving you a Vice-President so conservative and crazy, it will be like the halcyon days of Sarah Palin have returned, huge tax cuts for his rich friends, and even kick a poor person or two in the butt for you.

So, let’s stop wasting money and more importantly my valuable television watching time. Hey, I’ve got at least 7 episodes on TiVo I’ve got to get caught up on, and get this wedding started.

Hold hands. Look into Mitt’s eyes. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here…