Fly On The Wall: The Yellow Dog Stays On Message At Home
Having listened carefully to President Bush – especially in his speech Tuesday night – I think I've learned how to get away with almost anything. Here's a conversation between my wife, Sandi, and me when I arrived home from work last night. Let's listen:
Bob: Hi, Honey, I'm home!
Sandi: Where have you been? It's almost 10 o'clock.
Bob: Well, the pub near work had its weekly “drink for your liberty” night to celebrate the president's speech and our God-given freedoms.
Sandi: How many beers have you had?
Bob: I don't know. When I think of the lessons of September 11, I know that if we fear to drink with our coworkers, the terrorists win.
Sandi: And did you get a speeding ticket on Tuesday? We got something in the mail today from the New York State Police.
Bob: Yes. But I was rushing home to hear the president's speech. My resolve to listen to our president fight for freedom knows no speed limit. Going slow only emboldens those who attacked us on September 11.
Sandi: But it's $245.00!
Bob: Do you think the terrorists who attacked us on 9/11 cared how much it cost?
Sandi: But...
Bob: Sweetie, you're either with us, or with the terrorists.
Sandi: [Looking out kitchen window] What's that in the driveway?
Bob: It's a Cadillac Escalade. I just bought it today.
Sandi: But we can't afford it – and don't they only get about four miles to the gallon?
Bob: True, but when we brought our Toyota Prius, we were giving in to the people who attacked us on that dark day in 2001. I'm resolved to show them that I'll pay any price to protect my freedom to drive an environmentally-hostile vehicle. We can't give in to these people.
Sandi: But, the Prius...
Bob: Traded it in for the Escalade – wait until you see the refrigerator and big-screen TV in that baby!
Sandi: Oh, my goodness. OK, what are we doing for the long weekend? Did that e-mail you sent me say you were golfing with your buddies all three days?
Bob: Yes, dear, I am. You see, golfers were roughly eight percent of the 30,000 September 11 victims...
Sandi: That's 3,000.
Bob: Whatever. The victims of that despicable attack who were golfers will never again be hitting the links and swilling booze with their stupid friends. Again, if I fail to golf in their names, Osama Bin Laden wins.
Sandi: That's ridiculous. What does drinking beer and golfing with your friends have to do with terrorism?
Bob: Don't you understand that they're trying to shake our will, just as they tried to shake our will on September the 11th, 2001? They will fail. They think that violence and suicide bombers will keep my golf score over 100, but they're sadly mistaken.
Sandi: You mean?
Bob: Yes, future missions will take me to Myrtle Beach, Florida and Arizona.
Sandi: But you just spent $2,000 in Atlantic City last weekend!
Bob: We will take the fight to the enemy. I heard there might be an Al Qaeda cell in New Jersey – and I vow to defeat them on the Boardwalk in Atlantic City before they attack us in Westchester.
Sandi: But you blew all that money on nothing!
Bob: The terrorists who attacked us kill in the name of a totalitarian ideology that hates freedom, rejects tolerance and abhors drinking and gambling irresponsibly.
Sandi: And the hookers???
Bob: They hate them too. If the people who brutalized us on that lovely September morning had their way, those nice girls I met in the alley behind Trump's Taj Mahal would be wearing burkas!
Sandi: Sigh. And, by the way, you need to talk to our son. His final, second-grade report card is a disaster and he says it's because his teacher “hates his freedom.”
Bob: Did he tell her that “the light of liberty doesn't dim for homework?”
Sandi: You gave him that?
Bob: That's my boy!
Sandi: So what does this all mean for our family?
Bob: Well, President Bush told us that the road ahead would be difficult, and that we would prevail against those who attacked our way of life on, you know, September 11.
Sandi: I feel like our marriage is in its last throes.
Bob: Possible, but it could go on for any number of years – say, five, six, eight, 10, 12 years.
Sandi: I'm going to my parent's house.
Bob: May God bless the United States of America.
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