A Hummer is an automobile
by Jon Worley

Editor's warning: This column contains euphemisms deemed appropriate for the New York Times.

Last week, President Clinton apologized for whatever it was he did with Monica Lewinsky and for lying about it afterwards. Then he bombed a few tents in Afghanistan (yup, yup, we knocked 'em down, the Pentagon sez) and a pharmaceutical/chemicals plant in Sudan. Polls afterward proved what anyone with a brain could figure out. The same 30 percent of the populace who wanted Clinton impeached before he ever took the oath of office still want him impeached. As for the "sex thing", the rest of us are more concerned about important stuff like world peace, the opening of a new Krispy Kreme down the street or whether or not the addition of Chester McGlockton will make the 1998 Kansas City Chiefs defense one of the best in NFL history.

We've obviously got a lot on our minds, and we don't want the Prez mucking about with this Lewinsky matter any more. I think he's on our side there. But the Prez has to get past his own peccadilloes first. In his book Locked in the Cabinet (I'm being very specific in my references these days, lest the editors at the LCN Syndicate suspend me for journalistic turpitude), Robert Reich said that back in 1992 he thought that Clinton would be a great president if he faced great challenges. But if not, well, let's put it this way: Clinton is an inspirational leader, not a visionary.

Now, I doubt Reich meant that Clinton would perform best under personal duress (say after the 1994 elections or Hummergate), but the period of time from November 1994 to January 1996 saw a pretty damned good president. A presidential president. The kind of guy you'd be proud to call Mr. President. And then came that weak-ass Bridge to the 21st Century campaign, and the human impulse not to kick "Bob Dole Bob Dole" while he was down. Anyway, since then, he's just not been his old self. Or his new old self. Or is it his old new self?

Doesn't matter. The Prez needs to take charge. And like the Great Communicator, he needs a catch phrase. He's already stolen "I can't recall" from the Ronmeister, a phrase which hasn't served him well at all. He needs something original. Something bold. Something manly and poetic.

Blow me.

That's it. That's all he needs to say. The next time a reporter asks "Did you realize that the cock ring you wore during your speech after testifying was the one that Monica gave you?", all he has to say is "Blow me." Or the more active "Just blow me." In the conversational, "Why don't you blow me?" If feeling a bit petulant and prosaic, "Smoke my hog."

As you might guess, I like that last one best. It's a bit obscure, however, and so the basic "Blow me" concept has to be firmly rooted before referring to the other white meat.

Can you imagine? All those whiny, pampered White House reporters who cream at the thought of being another Woodstein (which, of course, you can't be if all you do is sip coffee, eat donuts and watch "Wag the Dog" while waiting for some flunky to read a press release) would have to sit there and, gasp, take some abuse. I know a lot of reporters who can't stand it when someone actually challenges their right to information. They assume that in a free society there is no such thing as privacy. Hey, I'm all for freedom of information, but it's good to fight the fight sometimes. When the going is easy, you miss the big stories. The important stories. Like how Janet Reno is the best attorney general this country has seen in decades. That's a big story, and I haven't read, seen or heard it yet.

Oh, I'm sorry. Journalists can't write about when government does something right. The fourth estate is a watchdog, and that means bite, bite, bite. Blow me. Watchdogs are very friendly when treated well. Like the aforementioned donut scenario taking place everyday underneath the White House. For some reason, though, it's not okay to compliment someone on a job well done. In journalistic parlance, such a piece is called a blow job. I'm not kidding.

Why don't you blow me? I mean, come on. If all we see, read and hear are stories about how the government is screwed up, then we don't believe it when it works. Like the millions of Social Security checks that get sent out right every month. Like the races where candidates actually stay within voluntary campaign spending limits. Like the county commissioners who don't cheat on their expense reports. These are all stories, real stories about honest people in real government who do things right.

Like the Prez. He's made his mistakes, but overall he's done a decent job. Not great, not outstanding, but on the high side of a "C". He doesn't deserve to have his private life put under a microscope. He doesn't deserve to have frivolous charges made against every single one of his cabinet officials. He doesn't deserve to have political organizations fund civil lawsuits against him. He sure doesn't deserve to be impeached.

He should just stand right up there at the Presidential Podium and say, "Smoke my hog." For emphasis, he could pull a Jim Morrison. That way any questions about distinguishing marks would be cleared up then and there. Of course, such an action would probably be grounds for hiring another independent counsel. And that's the last thing anybody wants.

Jon Worley fellates unsigned bands in his office in York, Pa.

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