The Rage of George
Rattling of Sabres
The Gods of War
In the Clouds
The Tyrant Flees
Out of Order
Doing the Patriot Act
The Little Prince
Ichor of the Gods
The Price of Peace
Dead or Alive
Across the Border
Summer in the City
Wolf and Jackal
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George, the President, looks sharp,
He’s special guest at an elegant fund-raising dinner,
A new organization deeply tied to Wall Street
And a fine source of campaign funds.
Given the special nature of the group, he will
Discuss his Mideast plan at the Jews for Bacon Gala.
At the historic Willard, near the Jefferson Memorial,
The room is filled with the wealthy and connected,
Women wearing formal gowns, bejeweled,
Faces lifted, hair perfectly coiffed; tuxedoed men
With tanned faces and receding hairlines.
The money behind Mideast policy.
Up on the dais, Milton Cohen,
Longtime CEO of Salomon Brothers, begins:
“My friends, it is with pleasure that I introduce our guest;
He really needs no introduction, of course,
You know that, one of Israel’s greatest supporters,
The President of the United States!”
The room erupts in cheers, all stand,
While Simple George shakes hands
Makes his way to the podium, scans the crowd.
He makes eye contact with old friends,
Points his finger, mouths hello to some,
To others waves lightly while he strolls ahead.
“Thank you,” he says, motions the crowd to sit,
“Thank you, it’s great to be here.”
The audience takes its seats, quiets down,
Hum of air-conditioning, ice cubes clinking,
A few coughs, expectant silence.
“Milt Cohen, distinguished guests, Shalom!”
The room is filled with whoops and cheers,
To hear this Goyim speak Hebrew is a kick!
The big-shots and their wives applaud,
Joined by Simple George so proud.
He’d spent hours practicing
Just this funny opener.
“You know, this job can be awfully stressful.
When it’s really bad, I get such a headache. Oy!
Last time I asked my doctor about it for advice,
He said ‘When I get a headache, I go home,
Put my head on my wife’s bosom, close my eyes,
And just like that,' his fingers snap, 'the headache's gone!'
“'Ok, I said, I’ll try it.' Next visit he asked
‘How’s that headache remedy work for you?’
'Great' I said, 'and by the way, you have a lovely house!'”
The audience goes wild. They can’t believe it!
This is a classic Borscht Belt joke, immortalized
In ‘42 by Milton Berle.
They like me, thinks Prince George.
“Seriously though, this job does cause headaches,
And often there are no simple solutions.”
The crowd gets quiet, The President is speaking.
“The Middle East is one such problem, as you all know,
But this administration is determined to succeed.”
He stops and drinks a glass of water, pulls out notes.
A teleprompter would be great, he thinks.
He’s not used 5 x 7 note cards in a while,
Makes an absent-minded wave, and drops them.
They fall to the floor, two aides stoop to retrieve them,
Gather them up, hand them to the President.
Holding the stack he begins again, but
The top card’s not the right one, they’re shuffled;
Now he has to get them into order. I’m gonna ream that aide
He thinks. “That chopped chicken liver made
My fingers greasy,” he ad-libs. The audience,
Embarrassed, begins to stir.
He finds the the opening card, starts to speak,
Then realizes he is telling the headache story again
His aides exchange glances. George finds the next card.
“I was talking to Prime Minister Sharon yesterday,
And he agreed to follow my new Road Map to peace.
This is a good thing, real progress.
“The road to peace has been bumpy,
Filled with potholes, detours and wrong turns.
But now we have a map. We know where we’re going,
A map is a good thing. Peace is a good thing.”
The room applauds politely, but is restrained,
With a speech like this, who needs a map, thinks Milt.
“And the new Palestinian Prime Minister,” he continues,
“Mr. Abbas, he’s on the road Sharon’s on and I’m on.”
His syntax confuses the crowd, too many “ons”.
They sit silently. George takes another card.
“They’ve got Weapons of Mass Destruction; I promise you,
We’ll find them.” Damn, wrong card! George reddens.
Now everyone is quite confused.
Was he talking about Israel’s nuclear bombs?
Desperate, Simple George ad libs again,
“That Iraqi war was some Mitzvah, wasn’t it?”
He grins, but his eyebrows display distress -
He turns to his aide and gives the curve ball sign.
Secret Service agent John Demaine gets the
He’s been given the “end the speech” sign.
John walks across the dais, hands George a note.
A simple blank note is the favored device:
Simple George, opens it, pretends to read,
Nods his head, and delivers his last lines.
“Looks like I have to leave, something’s come up.
You know Israel has our full support,
We are working hard to keep the peace.
Thanks for inviting me, and like my mother used to say,
‘Don’t be a stranger!’ Goodnight and God Bless America.”
He waves, shakes few hands and walks out.
The hurried exit is accompanied by confused applause.
Milt Cohen, looking non-plussed, takes the mike,
“Thank you Mr. President, we love you,” he says,
“And we won’t forget all you’ve done for Israel either.
Next election you can count on us!
Now for a little song, here’s Lettie Mishnow!”