December 14, 2012

A Christmas Poem

The backstory on the poem is available here. It is interesting to note that CNN's White House reporters are housed in the basement with the other cable outlets, while ABC, NBC and CBS are upstairs like big kids.  As much campaigning as they do for Blowie, you would think they had merited a promotion and move.

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas
The 2012 White House Press Basement Version
by Greg Clugston
‘Twas the night before Christmas and in the White House,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that a tax plan soon would be there.
The holiday treats were stale and bland,
After Mrs. Obama had sugar plums banned.
The president was sleeping – for the hour was late,
He was tired and groggy, like the Denver debate.
He dreamed of the year and his bruising campaign,
Romney was tougher, it seems, than McCain.
With the economy weak and the jobless rate high,
Mitt made his case as the best fix-it guy.
Republicans eyed victory – there was change in the air,
In Tampa, Clint Eastwood conversed with a chair.
Romney rose in the polls and enjoyed his ascent,
But, oh, how he stumbled with “47 percent.”
Challenges abound in this new second term,
A Susan Rice pick could be tough to confirm.
Obamacare won with John Roberts at the wheel,
But the birth control mandate remains under appeal.
There’s John Boehner, of course, and their partisan tiff,
That threatens to drive us straight over the cliff!
With a Cabinet shuffle and more slots to fill,
He listed off changes, but held doubts for the Hill:
“It’s goodbye to Hillary, Panetta, and Tim;
And David Petraeus – now who’ll follow him?”
Suddenly, on the South Lawn, there arose such a clatter,
Obama looked up to see what was the matter.
Then what did appear, to wondering eyes?
But a man of great stature — and considerable size.
His eyes – how they twinkled!  His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
Chubby and plump and his eyes a bit misty,
There stood New Jersey Governor Chris Christie.
He had come from the coast, badly battered by Sandy,
Seeking FEMA assistance and some holiday candy.
Christie praised POTUS for keeping Jersey afloat,
A far cry from his GOP convention keynote.
Riding high in the polls, Christie’s eyes held a gleam,
Was he thinking of running in 2016?
A White House bid comes at quite a high price,
So the president offered some political advice.
And I heard him exclaim, though it sounded absurd:
“Merry Christmas to all!  And don’t mess with Big Bird!”

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