Merry Christmas! What are you doing reading this on this holiday?
Shouldn’t you be celebrating with family, friends, even the dog?
Perhaps going to church or dropping in at the neighbor’s with a plate of
home-baked cookies or Aunt Doris’ fruitcake — it makes a great gift and
lasts forever?

Then again, merry Christmas! Here I am writing this. Shouldn’t I be
wrapping gifts, hauling the ornaments out of storage, arranging them on
the tree and getting those last cards written, stamped and mailed? Yes,
but first things first.

So, given what we each perhaps should be doing, here we are
together. Because I didn’t get my holiday chores done on time, you have
something to read instead of holiday socializing! Thanks for being

Don’t you wonder what Al and Tipper are doing today? Somehow I can’t
picture the two of them sitting around the tree in the morning in
bathrobes with a cup of coffee while the family tears open the gifts.
Al’s probably in formal casual, hair coiffed just so and makeup lightly
applied just in case TV folks show up for a holiday sound bite.
Christmas is usually a slow news day.

Tipper, now that the pressure of campaigning is off, is more than
likely going really casual. It is more comfortable and what a relief
not to have to deal with heels, and skirts with tight waistbands. Those
campaign lunches take their toll.

It is hard to picture a Clinton Christmas morning. Now that the
campaign and election are over and the presidency nearly so, the demand
to do the church thing is over. They’ll probably sleep in.

Funny, with all the personal details we have of the Clinton marriage,
the latest on who’s in which bed is missing from news coverage. Not
that I want more of the Clinton sexual proclivities (together or
separately); somehow it’s difficult to imagine a happily shared marital

But since they now move among the upper class elite (ah, how far away
Arkansas must feel), they probably not only have separate beds, they
probably have separate bedrooms — and no doubt, when Hill cashes her
book advance, will have separate homes. Poor Chelsea, where is home;
indeed, where are Mommy and Daddy?

Come to think of it, what does she call them? Does anyone know? Does
anyone care? I don’t think I’ve ever read or heard what terms she uses
for her parents. Probably “Mr. President” and “Senator.” From the
moment she was born, no doubt. The Clintons do plan ahead.

So what would I put on a gift list for these people who have so
thoroughly impacted our lives and sensibilities for lo these too many
years? I’m talking holiday gifts, not going away presents but then
again, that’s not such a bad idea either!

For Bill — a bag for your head. A friend told me when I was 10 years
old, that if you did that, no one could see you. Bill, please. We’ve
seen enough.

For Hillary — the guts to write the “Dear John” letter you should
have written years ago. Now that you won your election and got the cool
cash for the book, you don’t need him anymore. “Dear Bill, bye. My
lawyer’s name is David Boies. Where should he send the bill?”

For Chelsea — the luck you’ll need to find a guy who will love you
for you, be willing to have your folks for inlaws and be faithful to you
— if you care. The example you had of marriage didn’t include that.
Then again, being a thoroughly modern Clinton, you probably don’t

For Al — lessons in how to relax and time to practice
truth-telling. I understand that once you get the hang of it, it’s
easy. Honest. Oooooh, sorry.

For Tipper — the courage to continue smiling even though it’s all so
depressing (you know all about that) especially when what you really
wanted was a house, a family and a picket fence — not shouting,
picketing conservatives in front of the old homestead.

For Karenna — a new job for your nanny so you can stay home and
learn how to be a mommy to your young son and a wife to your husband —
instead of going to the office and pretending you know how to get Daddy
elected president. Political savvy does not rub off and after a while,
when it’s second-hand, it takes on a funny odor. Just remember the
campaign and you’ll understand the reference.

For the entire Democrat Party and their “loyal” followers — a big
bag of coal. Burn it and clear the air. Global warming be damned;
it’ll help get rid of the stench of what was foisted on the country for
the last eight years.

For all of you? Merry Christmas. Peace. God knows we need it.

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