Saga of the Lame Duck Who Could Duck Shoes and Stuff

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Noooo! I didn't see that! Did you see that? Is he that quick?

X-ray vision?

Tell me this wasn't real, but too real. It was all a concoction to make Bush thrilled, a sort of farewell party.

How could the journalist have plotted all that when he didn't know Bush was coming in the first place -- to that place? If he didn't know, how would he have known he would be invited? Allright, there had been a rumour. They're all invited? How dumb! All of them? Then this was coming all along! Then why didn't Bush just stay home? After all, it'll be all over on January 20.

That's the whole point?

And shoes? Allright, heavy duty disposable good for nothing dime a dozen made in america maybe ready to go sandals. OK, he didn't know the guy was coming and that's why he didn't have stones in his pocket.

It was all an act, and that wasn't really Bush. Couldn't you tell? It was all hollywood, like the moon-landing! Bush wasn't really in I-Raq. It was all Laura's prank, really. Or Jena's. Something to laugh about at Christmas, now that Thanksgiving's over. The joke's on us!

The real Bush was in Dallas, not Baghdad (too much Saddam there right now), clearing up some stuff about his new pad. So, what would he say?

Was the man's aim as bad as that or is Bush, the impersonator, that good? Were the man's venom-weighted words as off-target as his shoes, or did they get the impersonated, untranslated, Bush more than we know? I mean, all that stuff about orphans and widows -- from a man too small for his shoes! Mr. President, only you can tell us.

That wasn't a duck, in that water. That wasn't even water.

And, yes, that was a hawk! Hawkeye Bush. Bushie Hawkeye. I swear I could see the adrenalin pump, as only cowboys can pump. Did you see Bush's thrill at the first miss? Did you see the boxer in him -- the subtle left-right bob? Like, bring it on, buddy. Like, float like a butterfly. Hold that sting!

I swear I saw a touch of Ali. Like, is that all you got?

And to see that, after all Bush has done, Al Maliki couldn't wouldn't didn't take a hit for him -- not even one miserable hit! Just stood there dumbfounded, with a half-stretched hand. A case of Maliki see, Maliki Doolittle, if you ask me. And yet: damned if he does, and damned if he don't.

I bet the shoes are destined for the I-Raqi MOMA (Art, Antiquity, whatever) now. There'll be occasional borrowings by the Bush Presidential Library, you betcha. Worth a million now. A million more tomorrow.

Who says the duck's lame when the duck's so nimble? But all's well that ends well.

They must be cheering all over Texas, right now. In all the gyms. All the talk shows.

Allovamerika. As Bush loves America.

They had forgotten that he is that kind of man, and that he had it in him. Those eye-crossing chads, which he collected more of in 2000 than Al, they were not all a fluke.

Shame on all the presidents and premiers who cannot float -- who cannot duck a vituperative, leave alone a missile. Shame on on all their houses! Take a leaf from Dubya.

Noooo! I don't believe any of that. None of that American fiction!

Moral of the Story: All I know now, from all this, is that, as long as you're alive (and the longer you're alive the more so), you'll never see enough! Abridged Story of the Moral: You aint seen what you aint seen!