Shortly after 11 p.m. Tuesday night, inside an obscure White House corridor (all of the them look the same and most of them lead to nowhere) Barack Obama paced back and forth, beads of sweat collecting on his furrowed brow, his usually evenly rolled sleeves hanging unevenly on his arms.
The president had been sure the concern was minor. Brown’s sudden lead in the race for the seat where Teddy sat nothing more than a last minute hurrah by beleaguered ‘publicans.
But it was not the case. The former model and Cosmopolitan sexy man, the guy with the truck he’s unusually attached to, somehow … won.
Obama stopped. The White House hallways used to be a comfort to him with their stately columns and moldings and checkered floors. Now, they were vast and airy, the sounds of the people outside the White House gate with pitchforks and thick branches alight with flame calling for his head echoing off the walls.
Across the country, in a home built of logs, Sarah Palin slept snugly under flannel sheets and a down quilt covered in a duvet of does and bucks next to her husband, What’s-His-Name. Her prized moose head hung above the bed.
She’d heard there had been some kind of big break for the party, some guy over in Massachusetts (Where is that at again? she wondered. Over by Iowa? Wait, where was Iowa again? No, Massachusetts is where the Kennedys are from, she thought. Heh, heh, they talk so funny. That must be up there by North Dakota. Yeah, that’s it.).
Anyway, some guy in Massachusetts won a special election. She sighed. Politics, schmolotics, she thought as a servant brought her grapes on a pillow.
Just one week after debuting as a news analyst for Fox, Palin grew tired. It felt a lot like her old job. Lots of sitting at a desk and talking and things had to be on time and accurate. Well, not accurate but on time. Enough of that noise, she thought. She tapped her synthetic nails against each other in great excitement. She’d already found a follow up gig. Tomorrow she’d stop by Oprah Live and make the big announcement. That’s right – Ms. Palin was heading to the liberal mecca of New York City to star in the Broadway smash, “Annie Get Your Gun.” We know about  the hard knock life here in a Alaska, she thought. And we know guns. The people are going to love it. They will want to make me queen.
Back in the D.C., Obama began popping his knuckles. He might not be bringing much change but he is doing everything in his job description. He’s flashing his smile on public service announcements, campaigning for other people, winning awards at random.
He’s like a regular Wayne Newton.
The people, he thought, were supposed to love me.
But there it was, in the contract of the presidency. Yes, he was elected to a four-year term but – a bleary eyed Chief Justice John Roberts explained – the federal government had long ago entered into an agreement with NBC after ratings for the State of the Union dropped while Ford was president. Nobody wanted to watch that guy.
NBC won’t pull back on the deal, Obama thought. He checked the buzz of his Blackberry. “Conan to be paid $30 million to exit ‘Late Show,'” it said.
Crap, he thought.
He wandered up to the Oval Office where he could sit quietly and think.
He wondered how it all got so far gone. How did everything suddenly lose its glow and its charm? How on earth did he find a dog that looks like a cross between a mop and a roll of shag carpet? He handed Bo a milk bone and patted his head.
Outside, the people called for a do-over. “You took our hope!” they cried.
They smacked the gate with their pitchforks and began tearing their clothes in a symbolic show of mourning for a country they once held so dear. They attacked Dick Cheney while he was crossing the street to get a soda and a hot pretzel.
And then, in the midst of the melee, a young, freckle-faced boy emerged from the crowd in tattered clothes and an old newsboy cap and he began to speak. He spoke of personal responsibility at the very core of society, how the need to get the finance giants and federal government under control was paramount, how they’d all lost a sense of conscience and the battle would be uphill. How putting all of one’s faith into a young senator was probably a bit premature and everyone should partake in a healthy grain of salt. He said, at the end of the day it all comes down to what one does for themselves, the actions they take to better their communities and their families. To vote for but make the change. He said the hope had always been in us.
The people shoved a Wonka Bar in the boy’s mouth and patted his head. Then went home to watch “The Late Show.”