Wellington Leg: Now that we are saved from the collective infirmity of economic excess we breath a sigh of relief. Before the rescue we went about our business with the knowledge that Congress Was Going to Act which creates the traditional anxiety that a piano is going to fall from a great height hitting us squarely on the head. Even a a glancing blow might prove fatal. All the conditions were present for legislative bursts of legergermain quick fixes belly laughs cries and whispers. We are astounded that through the days and nights of imminent peril Nancy Pelosi’s hair looked the same. My own hair went through many manifestations of disarray: one morning I looked like Barney Frank, another Jim Bunning. My hair suffered. Rescue me.
Once John McCain suspended his campaign my hair became manageable again perhaps securitized by his bold initiative. My hair responded to fiscal stimuli in new and unexpected ways, standing tall instead of cringing near the exits which are clearly marked for our safety and convenience. This sort of dazzling leadership is precisely what my sideburns needed. Balance was restored.
I watched the Biden-Palin debate like an astronomer discovering a new planet. Joe’s hair withstood several direct assaults while Palin’s hovered low almost covering her eyes. This explains the mystery of her glasses they keep her hair from obscuring her vision. There were times when I wondered what language they were speaking or if the answers were meant as responses to the questions. Joe laughed a lot. Sarah said say it ain’t so.
Then Congress acted. Failure to act is worse than acting and so the piano remains rigged above dangling by several legislated threads crafted to prevent disaster. And so the word may spread to Mr and Mrs. America and all the ships at sea:
Rescue me.