Oliver and Bachmann
The other night, in an unusual fit of domesticity, I baked a sweet potato bread and set it out to cool in a place I mistakenly thought was beyond Oliver’s reach. When I discovered that the dog had eaten half the loaf and moistened the rest ot it with saliva, I cursed in Oliver’s direction. As usual, he showed no signs of remorse, but not because he’s a bad guy, a sleezeball with no conscience. It’s just that he has no short term memory when it comes to his misdemeanors. (He will always remember where he left his tennis ball, but never where he buried your shoe.)While Oliver showed signs of empathy for my distress, he clearly had no idea he was the cause of it.
I had trouble sleeping that night, not just because of my husband’s buzz saw snoring. My mind was spinning from the subject of Oliver’s digestion to the fate of the universe, specifically one that fosters the Presidential candidacy of Michele Bachmann. She reminds me of Martha Piper, one of the “popular” girls I knew in high school, who had the kind of confidence that empowered her to do anything, no matter how stupid or heinous, with irritating self-assurance and good humor.
It was not helping me relax, thinking Martha Piper-ish thoughts about the dubious white eye shadow Bachmann was wearing recently when she made that gaffe, mistaking New Hampshire for Massachusetts. I struggled against my inner bitch, trying not to judge her for the way she makes mistakes and goofy misstatements and just keeps bouncing merrily along.
But I couldn’t help thinking she’s like Oliver in that regard, able to forget her misdemeanors as soon as thy happen, which is why she, like Oliver (and Martha Piper) but unlike me, probably has no trouble sleeping. As I pondered this, Oliver jumped on the bed and curled up at my feet. I thought, nah, Michele Bachmann’s got nothing on my pooch. I’d like to see her eat a loaf in under sixty seconds and then fart like a motorboat.
I started to chide myself for sinking so low, taking cheap shots (if only mentally) at some Republican with bad makeup. But then I decided to make like a dog (or a politician) and forget it.
Never slept better.
Oh my goodness, you brightened my day again. I don’t need Prozac I’ll just read your blogs.You are freaking hillarious! Michelle Bachman scares me. The sweet potato bread sounds wonderful, is that recipe in your cookbook? My birthday is in September,so my friends are buying me your cook book and an apron!
Love that! The sweet potato bread is NOT in the cookbook, it’s just hear for loyal blog readers! and it is GOOD…just ask Oliver…
jessica…you made me laugh! we have a golden retriever and she has gotten into trouble many many times…her name is madison and when she is in trouble she is lovingly known as ‘maddie the baddie’ but look at their faces…how can you stay angry?? they are just the cutest!
polly~.
Thanks, I needed that after another 12 hour shift.
Always appreciate your tales
just curious…….Who is Martha Piper? Since there were about 30 people in our high school class, I can’t place her. Or were you just checking to see if we were paying attention?
I have an amazing recipe for chocolate, chocolate, chocolate cookies that won a contest at the Treasury this summer. They’re called “The Stimulus Package” and they’re going to be served at the White House. Want to try them? Should I save them for a cookie contest, so I can win a cookbook? I’m racking my brain for a grilling recipe and nothing is bubbling up.
If there’s no chance of a cookbook, how do I get the recipe to you?
Any simmering resentments about Joe Biden’s gaffes? JK.
Loved your ruminations about Michell Bachman Jessica. I’ve had to spend time with my cats in order to retain my sanity and think more clearly about the future of our country.
That’s why I live back in the 60s and 70s, write my music, and my film blog. Watch great films, some you’ve been in. And yes, consult my cats about the wisdom of life, and it’s various mysteries.
I trust Oliver will get you through what might lie ahead Politically. It scares me more than that last scene in Suspiria. She reminds me more of Martin Sheen’s character in The Dead Zone….but you know this Martha Piper better than anyone else!
Hang onto Oliver, he’s a keeper….
Cheers, Joey