Thursday, October 14, 2004
October 15, 2004
PO Box 1902
5482 Wilshire Boulevard
Los Angeles, CA 90036
Dear Dr. Phil,
She’s cracking up!
I know you know who I mean--my wife, Viola. I’ve told you all about how she dragged me to those Bushaholics Anonymous meetings and got thrown in jail for protesting at the Republican Convention and then started binging on kittens. Well, she’s getting worse!
Do you know where she was all day today? The same place she was the day before that. Do you know where she was the day before that? The same place she’s been for the last month! She’s been at the local Democratic headquarters, calling people at their homes, going door-to-door, passing out pamphlets. And you’ll never guess what she’s telling them: She’s telling them to vote for The Liberal Senator From Massachusetts Who’s More Liberal Than Ted Kennedy instead of Our President!
I knew you’d be as shocked as I am.
But that’s just the beginning. She comes home at night wearing a Kerry hat and a Kerry T-shirt and pins that say: Environmentalists for Kerry, Teachers for Kerry, Nurses for Kerry, Women for Kerry, Republicans for Kerry, and John Kerry: Bringing Complete Sentences Back to the White House.
Then do you know what she does? She mixes a Marguerita. Then, while she’s gulping down her first Marguerita, she opens the freezer and pulls out a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey ice cream. By the time she’s opened the Chunky Monkey, she’s finished her first Marguerita and she mixes another.
Then she sits down in the den with her Marguerita in one hand, her pint of Chunky Monkey in the other, turns on the TV, turns on her new speaker phone, and settles in to watch and talk and eat and drink and burp all night while 35 kittens are batting her Kerry buttons and chewing on her Kerry hat.
I don’t want you to think I’m exaggerating, Dr. Phil. She doesn’t sit there all night. Sometimes she gets up to go to the bathroom or to fix another Marguerita. Or to get some more Chunky Monkey.
I bet you’re wondering who she talks to on the speaker phone. She talks to the Democratic Committee. She calls people to tell them where to meet for the next canvass. She twists people’s arms to register, to vote, and to vote “correctly.”
And she vents! With every new Marguerita, she vents some more! Here’s how she vents:
“Barb, did you see that clip today? I can’t believe what those slimy b******ds are doing now! How low can they stoop? I thought I’d seen everything but those sons-of-b****s keep getting more despicable! This is the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life! If that little rodent gets re-elected, I don’t know what...WAIT A MINUTE! They’re showing a clip of him...hold on...You won’t believe what he’s saying now! YOU A**H***!
Then she throws her Chunky Monkey at the TV screen. If she’s really mad, she throws her Marguerita too. All 35 wild-eyed kittens fly off her and scatter like buckshot! You can imagine our floor, with Chunky Monkey and Margueritas and 35 flying kittens--it gets pretty slippery.
That’s usually when Viola gets up and goes to the bathroom, fixes herself another Marguerita, grabs another Chunky Monkey from the freezer, and starts all over again.
Also, Viola never cleans the TV, so when Our President comes on, it looks like He has Chunky Monkey hanging from His nose.
Viola never fixes me dinner anymore. She doesn’t even leave anything in the microwave. I’m hungry! She’s gained twenty-five pounds and she’s changed from a tea-totaller to a Marguerita-totaller.
She goes to the Democratic headquarters every day, and on weekends, she takes my grandson, Lester. He’s passing out pamphlets, too! Here’s what Lester said to me yesterday:
“Grandpa, this is the most important election of my lifetime.”
Lester’s eleven. But Viola’s a lot older than that, and that’s what she says too! That’s not all she says. Here’s what she told me this morning:
“Carl, if your president wins, I’m moving to Canada. I’m taking Lester with me. You’re welcome to join us if you want.”
“Can’t we compromise?” I asked. “Maybe we can stay here and order Canadian prescriptions online.”
But right then, Our President came on TV, and Viola yelled some more swear words and threw her drink and her ice cream at the TV. She hit Our President, too. Right on His crinkled brow.
I think you get the picture, Dr. Phil. You’re the expert! What’s wrong with my wife? She’s already been through “the change.” Do women have a second “change” that I didn’t know about?
Please answer me soon. In Oregon, our mail-in ballots go out on October 15. If we don’t get to the bottom of this soon, I’m afraid Viola might vote “correctly” and forget to vote for Our President.