Sunday, June 27, 2004
PO Box 1902
5482 Wilshire Boulevard
Los Angeles, CA 90036
Dear Dr. Phil,
You’ve probably been wondering how it’s been going since my family did that “intervention” and said they wanted me to go to Bushaholics Anonymous meetings. I don’t think it’s going very well, but you’re the expert--you tell me.
Remember my wife, Viola? She said I could sleep on the couch and I could keep sleeping on the couch unless I agreed to go with her to BA. I tried to hold out, but I got lonely. Also, my back was getting sore.
So last night, we went to our first meeting. Viola drove me to the library and walked me down the stairs to the basement. The room was packed! People were milling around, talking and joking--everybody seemed to know everybody else. Most of them looked about my age and normal enough--we could have been at a Grocer’s Convention or a Perry Como Fan Club meeting or Elk’s Club on Bowling Night.
Lots of people even wore American flag lapel pins, just like Our President. I was starting to feel right at home, but then I noticed some other kinds of pins. Do you know what they said? One guy had a pin that said:
There’s a Village in Texas That’s Missing its Idiot.
A lady was wearing a pin that said:
If You Can Read This, You’re Not the President.
Another pin said:
Beat Bush Again in 2004!
“Viola, let’s get out of here,” I said. But right then, a man with a John Kerry for President pin asked us to stand and say the Pledge of Allegiance. We all did--even the people with anti-Bush pins! I didn’t know Democrats say the “under God” part, but they said that too.
Speaking of God, after the Pledge, everybody said the same prayer that they said at my house before the intervention: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change...” Remember that one?
Everybody knew it by heart except me. “How did you know that prayer?” I asked Viola.
She just smiled, pulled a pin from her purse, and stuck it on her blouse. It said:
Bush-Cheney: Malice in Blunderland
Before I could say anything, the man who led the Pledge of Allegiance walked to the podium and said, “My name is Hugh, and I’m a Bushaholic.” Lots of heads were nodding, and one man shouted, “Tell us, Brother Hugh!”
Here’s what Hugh told us: He told us he had been Bush-free for 56 days. He said he can’t watch FOX News anymore because it makes him relapse. He told us since he’s been Bush free, his relationships are better and he feels like a fog has been lifted from his brain. He asked us to pray for him to stay strong until November.
Then an elderly woman stood up and said, “My name is Martha, and I’m a Bushaholic.” I noticed she was wearing a button, too. It said:
Drop Bush, Not Bombs!
She told us she was 93 years old and had voted Republican in every election since that Commie, FDR. She voted for Nixon three times even though, as soon as she saw him sweat in the Kennedy debate, she knew he was a crook. She voted for George Sr. even though he was an idiot and she voted for Our President the first time. But she’s sworn off. She told us if the good Lord lets her live til November, she’ll vote for Kerry. “I wrote a poem,” she said. “Want to hear it?”
Everybody did. She pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket and read:
DC has an unwelcome resident,
Who makes the false claim to be president.
He’s dim and obtuse,
With many screws loose,
And his demise will be a blest event.
There was much cheering all around, and I whispered to Viola, “Is she allowed to say that about Our President?” But instead of answering, she stood up and said, “My name is Viola, and I’m a Bushaholic.”
My hands were shaking as I hunted in my pocket for my nitro pills. “What are you doing?!” I whispered. But Viola continued.
“Friends,” she said. “My husband has gone blind. My husband has gone deaf. My husband has lost his marbles!” Her lower lip was quivering. “He’s a good man--but something came over him after 9-11. He went blind and deaf and stupid. He attached an American flag to the car antenna so it would wave in the wind. He put a sticker on the bumper that said, ‘These Colors Don’t Run!’ And he started believing everything President Bush said, no matter how moronic. If Bush said, ‘Bill Clinton is the mastermind behind al Qaeda,’ my husband would nod his head. If Bush fired Colin Powell and made Jesus his Secretary of State, my husband would write Jesus a letter and say, ‘Welcome Aboard!’ Remember when Bush said, ‘My views are one that speaks to freedom...’? My husband said, ‘He has a point.’ ”
I don’t know why everybody was laughing. I wasn’t. Neither was Viola--she was close to tears. “I just want my husband back,” she blubbered. “Tell him he’s confused and scared and he wants a daddy to make him safe--somebody who has all the answers and has no doubts and always thinks God is on his side.” Then she turned to me and said, “Carl Estrada, the world is a scary place and your not going to make it any safer by believing a bald-faced liar whose answer to every problem is to punch it in the mouth!”
Then she sat down. Everybody in the room was looking at me. I could tell they were waiting for me to say something, and I have to admit, I was almost swayed. But then I thought of Our President, bounding victoriously off that fighter jet, in full combat gear, with that humungous American flag behind him and that sign saying, “Mission Accomplished!” and all I could say was:
“So, what’s your point?”