Isn't It Supposed to be Lonely at the Top?

When this Monica Lewinsky business first reared it's ugly head, the Boneman took a pretty hard line on Slick Willie and his extramarital indiscretions. I knew he was lying then, and although I found his subsequent capitulations morbidly entertaining, I'm not deriving any kind of satisfaction from being right about it. In fact I'm sick to death of hearing about it. I almost wish O. J. would strike again, just to give Rush and the rest of the Right-wing radioheads something else to talk about for ten minutes.

In fact I'd given Clinton such a thorough pounding the first time around I'd decided just to leave the poor guy alone. That was until I happened to watch some of the televised Grand Jury Hearing and decided that it was my duty as a self-proclaimed humorist to have one more go at our naughty President. While I guess it's true that I can, in good conscience, cast the first stone at an adulterer--it is one of very few "first stones" in my possession. Therefore this time I promise not to bore you with a bunch of horsecrap moralizations--I'm just going to make fun of it all. It won't be difficult.

First of all I thought the Grand Jury marathon was a tedious and embarrassing waste of the airwaves. As far as I'm concerned, a bunch of serious old men frankly discussing explicit sexual stuff on television is just wrong. Perhaps I embarrass too easily, but I'm still like a 15 year old boy when it comes to this kind of thing--I could've been visiting my Grandmother when it came on, for God's sake. It was awful. Poor old Bubba--the last time I saw that much squirming, was when my cousin put a gummy worm in the microwave. After three and a half hours of it, I must have dozed off because I dreamed that Clinton was a carnival clown with a painted-on frown, perched above the dunking tank, and the Grand Jury was a bunch of dizzy blindfolded pinheads throwing baseballs at a little tiny bullseye that wouldn't hold still. Both sides came out looking like jackasses and both triumphantly claimed victory. But who are the real losers? US, helplessly watching another slice of the American Pie crumble into the morass of moral ambivalence, blabitty bla bla bla--

Allow me to offer the following solution to the whole silly mess. Though my plan may be constitutionally unfounded, it's simplicity is beautiful. Nobody wants Al Gore to be the President, (a fact that remains Clinton's biggest ace in the hole). So why not demote Clinton to Vice President, (he's the one with all the vices), and replace him with Mark McGuire. Call him "Most Valuable President" or whatever and slip him in the White House. Case closed. With all due respect to Sammy Sosa--the man's married. If Clinton weren't married America would probably be just as interested in how many home runs he was hitting. We're good sports, and we're nuts about statistics.

Though it's becoming increasingly difficult, I'm still proud to be an American, I remember where I was when Kennedy was shot, I was glued to the set when we landed on the moon, I watched Walter Cronkite and listen to Paul Harvey. I even cried when Howard Cosell died. But never in my wildest dreams, did I imagine that I'd be sitting in my living room in the middle of the afternoon, watching network television and see the President of the United States be asked if he sexually violated a young woman with a CIGAR. In the Oval office, no less--give us a break already. "Hey Monica did I ever show you my Fidel Castro impression?" Clinton looked as green in the gills as the hungover captain of the Exxon Valdez--how could this "country boy" have steered us so wrong? In this time of collector feeding-frenzy, I wonder which would fetch the highest price--Mark McGuire's 70th homerun ball, or that damn cigar.

I understand that the Starr report reveals even more sordid goings-on, and yet the prevailing sentiment seems to be, "who cares how the man gets his jollys, so long as he knows how to run the country." If this is the proper perspective then I say we go all the way--let's add a few new attractions to the White House tour. Right next to the Lincoln bedroom let's display the pillowcase with Marylin Monroe's lipstick stains. And next to it, Monica Lewinsky's famous dress. "Look at that son, right there on the sleeve. Gives you goose bumps." America is obviously more concerned with the Dow-Jones than we are with Paula Jones--so let's trim the Ten Commandments down to maybe Four easy ones, and underline the one that Bill has so much trouble with-- "Thou shalt not get caught."

Just because the second word in "oral sex" is sex , by no means implies that it has anything to do with sex. Clearly Clinton showed no intent to arouse, he kept his hands in his pockets the whole time and took it for his country. So why all this clamoring for impeachment? If you want to punish the man don't impeach him--make him serve out the remainder of his sentence. It can't be any fun now, the jigs up--let him suffer through a little deprivation. The cold war may be over, but not as far as Hillary is concerned. He's gone from Tn'A boy to DNA boy. The only action Bent Billy's going to be seeing for a while, is going to be at his own hand. Let the American people enjoy the benefits of lowered standards. "Look honey, I was just having a few beers with the boys, it's not like I was out there sleeping around like some kind of president."

During the four hour Grand Jury interrogation, Clinton spent the entire time claiming to have no recollection of this, and no memory of that--give me a break, Ronald Reagan had better powers of recall. Let me conclude with this analogy: If your starting Quarterback can't remember if he scored a touchdown or dropped back to punt, do you keep him in the game? "It's kind of blurry coach, I remember running around alot, I allegedly had some kind of ball, but I have no recollection if I did, or what I did with it. The sportswriters allege that I made what they refer to as a touchdown, but I can't honestly say I have any recollection of scoring." You're the coach, do you put the guy on the bench? You make the call.

And furthermore, in the course of the Grand Jury hearing Clinton admitted to having phone sex with Miss Lewinsky from two to four o'clock in the morning. Perhaps, this is no more shocking than any of the rest of it, but seriously, does the President of the United States have this kind of spare time on his hands? Shouldn't he be getting some shuteye? Sure I've whiled away the wee small hours of the morning, maybe watching some lame HBO movie because it was supposed to contain Nudity and Adult Content, but I'm not the leader of the free world. I'm the Boneman . . . Good Day.