Wassup, homey?

You may have heard. George and Laura are moving to Dallas. I can see why. You know that 6% of the public that still thinks W. did a great job? Most of them live here. Texas is a fire engine red state. And Dallas it’s bloody, beating heart.

I probably bear less animosity to Dub and Mrs. Dub than many. It was definitely time for a change. But I find myself more disposed to let it go as I move on. My basic attitude at the end of his term has been, somebody needed to be standing at the doors of the White House saying “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.” But they are going home. And home is here.

I’m not sure what the former First Couple moving into the ‘hood really means. It’s not like we run in the same circles. I’m not going to run into Laura at the hippie grocery. George isn’t going to be over at the Pearl for happy hour (I assume). They’re rich and white so they won’t have anything to do with local government (publicly – the wealthy and melanin deficient think it’s more tasteful to keep their involvement back room around here.). Oh, I’m sure they’ll be busy putting together the GWB Presidential Library. But how long can it take to find a Bible and a copy of 111 Classic Fart Jokes?

I kind of hope that they have a nice retirement. I hope the girls give them some grandbabies. And 41 and 43 go out on the lake fishing. Maybe Laura can do something nice about literacy. And if they are out buying glucosamine and granola at the hippie grocery, I’ll wave.