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The Therapy Sessions
Monday, August 09, 2004

My dinner with Bill

If I had to sit down and have a few beers with one our recent ex-Presidents, my choice would be Bill Clinton.

It seems odd, as I would never vote for him again. I voted for him once (in 1992 - I kinda regret that now). In my opinion, he was an OK president, and he is trying valiantly to pull his party away from the special interests, the silly socialism and the protectionist tendencies that have recently come to define it.

Clinton just seems more human than the competition, like somebody you could actually have fun with. I think that's how he got elected. The current Bush is too uptight, and I have a feeling that neither he or his father would be all that personable. Reagan? Too distant, too old. Carter? An idiot moralist.

But Clinton....Clinton could let his hair down. That dickhead could tell "a secret" to the thousands of people who had come to hear him speak - without a touch of fakeness.

I could ask him all manner of questions after he was good and buzzed, and as long as it was "just between you and me," and there were no reporters around, I imagine he would tell me all kinds of juicy stuff. And he would do it in that raspy, aww-shuucks country boy voice.

Good ole Bill.

I could ask him, for example, whether he really did inhale, and I imagine Bill would just start chewing the fat like he was standing around the cracker barrel:
"Shit man, I smoked so much reefer I swear I saw clocks runnin' backwards! Back then, in those days, it was what you did - you got together with some friends, dimmed the lights, played some Zeppelin or Floyd...But Hillary, she never went to those parties.

You know, you're not believe this, but Hillary's a little serious. No really! I mean, man, she can let her hair down, but she can be uptight sometimes. But I love her that way, you know, and she's awful good to me and Chelsea. Hell, I'd do anything for her.

That's what got me after that Monica Lewinsky thing. People were saying I didn't love her and all that. Hell, that hurt. But it's like I was saying - she's just proper. And she brought that kinda attitude to our relationship - you know, and the physical aspects of it.

Twenty five years without a BJ? I didn't sign up for that gig! Hillary's so tightly wound - I couldn't even get her to give 'little Bill' a kiss! We had sex only about ten times before she got pregnant with Chelsea, and then only once or twice after that.

I mean. I am only a man."

Bill would laugh those guffawin' country boy laughs at anything I said, smile that big old smile and look at me with those earnest eyes.

And at the end of it all, he say something like this:
"Aww, John, I have just had a great time. This has just been one of the greatest days of my life, just sitting here with you - great food, relaxing over a few beers. This is the kind of thing I have been missing, and I think I'll remember this dinner for a long time. Thank you for taking the time to have dinner with me. It's been great, and I really mean that."

And I'd be honored, flattered and amazed at what a human being Bill was.

Until the next day, when Bill would have forgotten all about it all.

Bill Clinton. Lovable asshole.

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