White House Nightmare The combination of Halloween’s approach, the elections and the beautiful weather have caused me to abstain from good judgment and wax poetic. I will save space in next Sunday’s column for the requisite apologies. Twas Halloween Eve on Capitol Hill when a strange bedroom shadow woke President Bill. He threw back the sheets and, (though his thighs had grown fatter) He leaped to his feet to see what was the matter. From far down the hall he heard a dark giggle. It was odd and familiar ...and disturbed him a little. He donned his silk robe with the Gold Eagle’s Crest. And followed the shadow that had just ruined his rest. The figure moved quickly but not quite out of sight. It kept to the shadows and avoided the light. Whenever Bill lagged... the ghost waited to point with a long bony finger, he must know the joint. Down long marble stairwells along great polished halls This phantasmic shadow danced along White House walls. At the door of the room without corners it stopped. It withdrew a gold key and it turned in the slot. The door creaked a greeting to the ski-slope-nosed face. That three decades ago had fallen from grace. Bill brought up the rear and arrived way too late to prevent Richard Milhaus from assuming his seat. Tricky Dick laced his fingers ‘cross his grave-sunken chest, and invited young Clinton to a side chair to rest. He peered under his eyebrows as only he could.... and offered these words for Clinton’s own good. The historians have you, Tricky Dick fair allowed. You’ll never escape from that bloodthirsty crowd. They ate my lunch too... and they clapped me in pillory. You’re to have it much worse. Life...with Senator Hillary. Now both parties have twin icons of spite. You on the left, and me on the right. They can all gnash their teeth, and point to each other. And anoint their opponents as your’s or mine’s brother. For time everlasting we’ll be mentioned at once. You as a pervert. Me as a putz. They’ll besmirch our advisors. you know it’s the truth. For me Dr. Kissinger, for you Dr. Ruth. The American People... don’t mind if you cheat. They rather expect it... is the talk on the street. But there’s one sin that’s sacred. One sin they won’t stand. One sin that’s abhorrent across this fair land. Why didn’t we gamble? Why didn’t we kill? Why not emulate Hoover ....and wear pretty frills? No, not us snarled Dick Nixon. That wasn’t our lot. It was not that we lied...but that we lied and got caught.