Brave Kings of our own castles… uh… when the Queens permit us to sit on our thrones. Father’s Day is upon us. And we all know what that means. It means, we finally get to fix that rusty hinge on the doghouse we’ve been putting off for two years… or has it been three? I don’t know, but I do know this; doghouses don’t have hinges… except the one I live in… but if we don’t fix something we’re dead meat.
Okay… sorry to be a pessimist when I’m really as optimistic as Hickory Smoked Canned Spam! Father’s Day means we can skip shaving, stink like a pig, drink ourselves silly, tinker with the car or do whatever we want. It’s the only day of the year this is true. And even though often, after our wives reveal our plans to us, such wanton debauchery is not included in the agenda.
Nevertheless, we can depend on something rewarding… assuming we didn’t (vernacular understood) up on Mother’s Day! All y’all didn’t forget that now did you?
So what do we want most… aside from being left alone? Do we want a John Deere lawnmower? A trip to Rock u2018n’ Roll Fantasy Camp? A George W. Bush ventriloquist’s puppet? Reservations to the Israel Challenge Army Experience with Scooter where we can learn real IDF tactics to kill Palestinian women and children? I’m sorry… I meant "terrorist suspects." Hell NO!
These are all fine gifts, but what the neoconservative Man on the Go aiming towards financial and political dominance really wants for Father’s Day is the John McCain Golf Gear set!
Yessiree Bubba… or in this case Bubbette (hint, hint). We Men of Stature crave, covet and are compulsorily driven towards the McCain Golf Gear. It calls to us like the words of Ahmadinejad. Think of the envy on the links! The pride! The humiliation factor leveled at your opponent when he sees that your balls have the patriotic stamp of Boom Boom McCain!
Yes mien Fhrer, with your John McCain Golf Gear set you will be fully equipped to stay the course!
That’s for McCain to know and you to find out Haji!
Of course, there could be some confusion at the more elitist country clubs around this great land of ours. "That’s my McCain ball!" "No. It’s my McCain ball. You hit yours in the rough!" Oh hell, just call Joe Lieberman to sort it all out. We don’t want confusion in the Straight Talk Fairway.
The thing that bothers me is why stop at golf gear? I want more McCain Goodies. Don’t you?
What about John McCain Flak Vests! Yeah baby! While taking a stroll through the mall the happy shopper will be totally safe with his John McCain Flak Vest! It’s made out of unobtainium and 100% guaranteed to stop a pellet gun! Besides, think of the discounts. Proprietors will agree to any degrading price just to rid their shop of the camera crew. Yes sir! The man sporting a John McCain Flak Vest is going turn a few heads and draw a crowd of admirers.
What other stylish McCain paraphernalia can and should be marketed before the McCain Train explodes over Tehran?
How about an electronic "action" figure of John McCain crooning "bomb, bomb, bomb Iran?" Groovy Daddy-O. It can be displayed next to the Jimi Hendrix action figure. The proud owner can marvel at both sides of the musical coin; one incompetent and one brilliant, one pro-oblivion and one anti-oblivion, one a Vietnam "war hero" and the other a… and I shudder at the thought… peace loving hippy. Hm… does that make Hendrix a war hero also?
As long as we’re thinking McCain "action" figures this one has got to be a winner! Remember that heart-warming photo of a sweaty and arrogant George W. Bush in the enraptured embrace of an equally sweaty and arrogant John McCain? You know, right after the passing of the anti-torture Military Commissions Act of 2006? That was the law that made it legal for POTUS to do what ever the (vernacular to honest) he wanted to anybody he wanted regardless of the US Constitution or those "quaint" Geneva Conventions including… uh… torturing them. Can we get ceramic bobble heads made up in that war-mongering pose? It seems like a natural. Both Bush and McCain are bobble heads anyway. What better iconic duo to defiantly post on the dash of the Hummer H3 gas-guzzler? Move over slowpoke! I’m comin’ through!
Now this one scares the beegeebers out of me: The John McCain… thong? No, no, no! That’s not right! I’m not sure a McCain thong is even cricket in the dank underbelly of the American Enterprise Institute. I can see no good coming from a McCain thong. It will only obliterate an otherwise fine day. Can you imagine the deflation late at night when the missus parades into the boudoir wearing a McCain thong? And don’t try telling us men we’re supposed to wear it! Shiver me timbers!
Honey Bunnies. There’s no point in dreaming. Stick with the John McCain Golf Gear set. In a few years we’ll be able to sell them on eBay for more than a can of Billy Beer!
Tom Chartier [send him mail] played lead guitar in legendary Los Angeles punk band The Rotters for 26 years until their final appearance in January of 2004. He has lived in Tokyo and Los Angeles. Currently he resides somewhere in the Caribbean.