The Sting of the Icepick

So John McCain was trying to stay awake as they steered him down the plane ramp and Hillary Clinton was eating Xanax the way Reagan ate jellybeans, when both felt an icy sting in their spines, and suddenly they were paralyzed and sprawled across, in McCain’s case, a sticky jet tarmac and, in Clinton’s case, a Marriot short-wired carpet.

Then the icepick wielder slipped off his military-issue sniper gloves and replaced them with elegant leather that matched his overcoat and suit, and Colin Powell, desperate to rehabilitate his formerly-stellar reputation after squandering it as Bush’s “good soldier” before the U.N., crisply told reporters that he might actually vote for a Democrat this year, then went on to praise Barack Obama.

Which blew the shit out of McCain’s rep with the military and independents and croaked Clinton’s increasingly weird attempts to explain that she’s an agent of change having been in public life for 35 years, and, in short, gave Obama a huge credibility boost.

The times they are a-changing….

Ah, Baby Boomers. Live by the song, die by the song.

About Steve Patterson

Steve Patterson has written over 50 plays, with works staged in Portland, Los Angeles, Chicago, Detroit, Austin, Tampa, and other U.S. cities as well as in Canada and New Zealand. His works include: Waiting on Sean Flynn, Next of Kin, Farmhouse, Malaria, Shelter, Altered States of America, The Continuing Adventures of Mr. Grandamnus, Bluer Than Midnight, Bombardment, Dead of Winter, and Delusion of Darkness. In 2006, his bittersweet Lost Wavelengths was a mainstage selection at Portland Center Stage's JAW/West festival, and, in 2008, won the Oregon Book Award (he also was an OBA finalist in 1992 and 2002). In 1997, he won the inaugural Portland Civic Theatre Guild Fellowship for his play Turquoise and Obsidian. View all posts by Steve Patterson

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