Not Exactly Your A-List Talent

So there's that whole inauguration thing in a couple of days. I decided to take shots not at the President-Elect (with one or two exceptions), but at the sort of "notable talent" that his inauguration might attract.

Top Notch Music Acts Fail To Materialize For Inauguration

Washington D.C. (Reuters) Last minute preparations are underway for the Friday inauguration of the president-elect after a divisive campaign on both sides. Boasts of millions of people attending the occasion have been met by shrugs from the city’s police, who expect less. American politicians and foreign diplomats have gone out of their way to explain why they’ll be doing other things that day. The president-elect has spent recent days picking fights with civil rights legends. And after previous inaugurations that have featured A-list singers, this occasion features anything but that.

The B-Street Band, a Bruce Springsteen tribute band that was booked years ago for the Garden State Gala the day before the inauguration, pulled out after criticism from fans, citing respect for Springsteen, who has been quite vocal in his dislike for the president-elect. Broadway singer Jennifer Holliday cancelled her own involvement. The president-elect’s team have had no end of headaches in getting any notable entertainer to show up. “It’s like this, and don’t use my name,” an anonymous Republican insider told this reporter. “It’s not like there are a lot of successful Republicans in Hollywood, but those few that are out there want nothing to do with showing up for this whole thing. I mean, seriously? We’ve got Chachi and some guy who was in a soap opera twenty years ago and neither of who have worked since. Those are the only actors who want to be there. And we’ve got Kid Rock, Ted Nugent, and Toby Keith lined up to perform. This is hardly what you’d think of as A-list talent, you know what I mean?”

Scott Baio, forever doomed to be known as Chachi, or Charles, if you’re really stretching his resume to include Charles In Charge, has been boasting as of late that he will surely have a cabinet or diplomatic position waiting. “Secretary Of Entertaining Propaganda!” Baio declared in a bar in Los Angeles last week as onlookers rolled their eyes. “Or Ambassador to Bermuda! I can lie on the beach all week and work on my tan. I mean, really, how hard can it be to be an ambassador? They work, what? Two hours a month?”

Antonio Sabato Jr., the aforementioned former soap star, has other ambitions. Reached by reporters in Washington, where he’s attending the run-up to the inauguration, the one-time heart throb and one note actor, wants back in familiar territory. “I want back on General Hospital,” he explained. “And I want the whole show to revolve around me, and when I’m not on the screen, people should be asking where my character is. Oh, and I never get written out. That’s iron clad. Fortunately now we have a president-elect who’s going to make sure that happens. General Hospital will soon be retitled General Hospital, Starring The World’s Greatest Actor, Antonio Sabato Jr. Is that a great title or what? Hey, stop snickering!”

In Moscow, President Vladimir Putin, the five foot four tall wannabe Tsar, is pleased by the impending inauguration. “Da, I am happy,” he told reporters after his latest staged photo op designed to stave off the ravages of time and create the impression he’s a tough guy. It involved racing around on a snowmobile bare chested and crossing the finish line before other competitors- all of whom were clearly holding back. “We have our strings to pull and the new president does what I say. He is, what you call? Yes, he is a puppet. Good times, my friends. Good times for Vladimir! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to my hollowed out volcano base and prepare my doomsday death ray.”

The failure of any substantial music act to sign on for the inauguration has caused the Trump team a great deal of problems in the days leading up to the event. “It’s very simple, and don’t use my name,” a key insider for the transition told reporters while desperately smoking a cigarette. “Damn things’ll kill me someday, but hey, if you gotta go, why not take a drag on a Marlboro? Anyway, where were we? Oh, right. Springsteen told us to go **** ourselves and said he’d never play for that... well, he used a colourful metaphor. So, I yelled at him that it’s President Asshole to him, and he should just get in line and bow down at the feet of the greatest of all presidents. Long story short, I’ve now got a restraining order against me by Mr. Not Born In The USA Springsteen. To be fair, it’s the four hundred seventy first restraining order against me, but between you and me, none of that is my fault.”

And so desperate times have called for desperate measures. Instead of A-list talent, the key entertainers for the occasion are three musicians. If you want to call them musicians. Ted Nugent has been irrelevant since the 1970s, known more in recent years for rather extreme views and instability. Kid Rock, who peaked in the 1990s and inexplicably is still using the Kid label despite being a balding man in his mid-forties. Toby Keith is a country act known for shamelessly promoting himself as a true patriot and picking fights with anyone who disagrees. Not one of these three could really be considered A-list talent, but all spoke out in support of the president-elect at one point or another during the campaign.

The first anonymous Republican insider sighed at the prospects. “So we’ve got a racist lunatic who crapped himself to get out of ‘Nam. We’ve got a wash-up singer who thinks he’s still a kid. And we’ve got a country singer who’s known for picking fights with the Dixie Chicks. Did I mention Toby wants to be appointed the Secretary For Kicking People In The Hindquarters? That’s not the word he used. These are the people who are going to be performing. We’ve got a betting pool going on as to how long it takes Nugent to insult the West Coast. I’ve got twenty bucks down on thirty five seconds.”

The three musicians have been doing sound checks for their performances, appearing together on stage while preparations continued. Kid Rock has stapled his hat to his head, lest it blow off and reveal the state of his hairline. “No big fans!” he yelled on Tuesday to workers at the Capitol. “My hat blows off on Friday, I’m gonna take it out on you, Pedro! No, I don’t care what your name is, you look like a Pedro!”

Keith, who’s never seen without a cowboy hat (leaving one wondering about the state of his hairline), and who spent the early part of his career with the mullet from hell, shrugged at his colleague. “Have you tried superglue? Keeps the hat straight on, don’t need to worry about it.”

Nugent seemed unhinged, ceasing to play his guitar, and spoke to the others. “I’ll tell you this, if Obama is re-elected to a third term, I’ll be dead or in jail inside of six months. I guarantee it.”

Keith looked puzzled- one expects it to be a common occurrence to the singer. “Um, Ted, I might be wrong here, but I don’t think he can be re-elected. Besides, we’re playin’ for the president-elect. The new guy. Donald Trump, remember?”

Nugent looked wide eyed. “Wait a minute, I thought we were playing for my inauguration! Didn’t I get elected to be President?” The reporters sighed, collectively rolling their eyes, and walked away. Nugent yelled at them, knocking over the mike. “Hey! Get back here! Don’t you walk away from me when I’m talking to you! Pay attention to me!”

In the opinion of this reporter, it’s too bad the gun loving Nugent has never met with a hunting accident. Perhaps a hunting excursion with Dick Cheney could solve the problem.

My Fellow Americans, You Betcha!

Some links before getting started. Norma wrote about drive in theatres. Parsnip had a Square Dog Friday. Shelly had an extension on her online novel. Lynn had a Pop Culture Frenzy post. Ivy had a Friday Question.

Today I have something entirely different. Dick Cheney might want to have me come over for a hunting weekend after this. And we all know how hunting weekends turn up at Chez Cheney.

Insane Candidates Join The Fray; Comedians Everywhere Rejoice

St. Louis (AP) A crowded Republican list of candidates for the 2016 Presidential election just got more crowded. With frontline candidates such as Jeb Bush, Rand Paul, Ted Cruz, Rick Santorum, and Rick Perry, and a slew of fringe candidates that include the egomaniacal bankruptcy prone casino developer Donald Trump already announcing their run at the Oval Office or expected to announce soon, two other Tea Party favourites have announced their joint run at the Presidency in this Mid-Western city yesterday.

Tea Party faithful were gathered at the America’s Center complex, along with media and staffers for the announcement. A flurry of faded politicians, hard right commentators, and washed up musicians were in attendance. Donald Rumsfeld, Pat Buchanan, John Ashcroft, Karl Rove, Herman Cain, Ari Fleischer, Newt Gingrich, Glenn Beck, Ann Coulter, Rush Limbaugh, and the urn containing the ashes of the late and not lamented right wing blogger Andrew Breitbart were among the most notable. Rocker and deranged lunatic Ted Nugent and country singer Toby Keith provided the entertainment and made veiled threats about anyone prying their guns from their cold dead hands. Nugent went on to repeat his oft mentioned question about why he wasn’t dead or in jail all this time after the previous election, given his remarks about the President, and rambled on and on, leaving one to wonder if he was drunk.

Then it was time for the big announcement. That announcement, of course, would come after Limbaugh, Coulter, Rumsfeld, Cain, Gingrich, and forty seven people from the lives and backgrounds of the two candidates made rambling and glowing tributes to both of them. As to which of the two would be the actual candidate was another matter. Finally after Keith finished performing ‘Courtesy of the Red, White, And Blue’, the singer made the announcement the Tea Party faithful and the Fox News reporters had been dying to hear. Those of us who are actual reporters had been rolling our eyes for at least two hours, wondering why the Republican party couldn’t field candidates who weren’t clinically insane or viewing the world with a mindset sixty years behind the times.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Hard workin’ Americans!” Keith bellowed, smiling like the cat that ate the canary. “Here they are, your next President and Vice President... and they’ll explain how they’re going to get around that all by themselves, they’re going to take the country back and put the boot in the ass to all those liberal commie haters who can’t stand eatin’ good ol’ American style steak, ladies and gentlemen.... Sarah Palin and Michelle Bachmann!”

Palin and Bachmann came out on stage, flashing the same vacant, slightly demented smiles they’re known for, accompanied by husbands and children, all of whom stood behind them on the stage. “Hello, America!” Palin called out, waving.

“Thanks for coming to our coming out!” Bachmann added. “Not that kind of coming out, mind you, the good kind!”

“You betcha!” Palin said with a grin confirming she wasn’t playing with more than a pair of twos, a three of spades, a ten of clubs, and one jack. The rest of the proverbial deck of cards that constituted her brain was long gone. “Gosh, golly, there are a lot of candidates out there for the Republican nomination in 2016, but when it comes down to it, the only way we’re goin’ to get those Dumbocrats outta the White House and Congress and every state house is if the two of us lead the way!”

Bachmann nodded. “So we’re gonna be President and Vice President! Or Co-Presidents to be more exact. Palin and Bachmann! Bachmann and Palin!”

Palin smiled again. “And we’re a team! So we’re gonna do things as a team. For instance, one day I’ll be the one in the Oval Office makin’ the big decisions and the next day Michele’s gonna be President for the day, and so on and so on. Presidents in turn!”

Aside from Tea Party faithful and Fox reporters, who broke out into gleeful applause, real reporters rolled their eyes and groaned. Did neither of these halfwits understand the basic concepts of the Constitution and division of executive powers? A Reuters correspondent spoke up. “You do realize the Constitution might have something to say about that kind of arrangement.”

Palin shrugged. “The Constitution? Who cares about the Constitution?”

Bachmann nodded. “Yeah, we’re goin’ to have it burned after we impose martial law and name ourselves Presidents For Life anyway.”

Palin looked confused. “Did we just think that, or say that out loud?”

“I don’t know,” Bachmann replied. She laughed in her typically demented way. “Look, what’s important is takin’ this country back from those godless latte slurpin’ commie liberals gettin’ in our way. And we gotta set this country back to the way things oughtta be, isn’t that right, Rush?” Limbaugh nodded enthusiastically. “That means Republicans in charge of everything, opposition destroyed, liberals caged up in super prisons if they so much as look at us funny....”

“You do realize you just said that out loud, right?” this reporter called out.

Bachmann frowned. “What’s your name? You’re goin’ on the enemy list!”

Palin smiled, shrugged, and remarked, “what do you expect from the lamestream media? You know, you don’t like America, Mr. Fancy Pants Reporter, why don’t you go to Russia?  You can see it from my house, if you squint real hard. America’s ours, a God fearin’, butt kickin’, beer drinkin’ steak and eggs apple pie gosh golly country that’s the greatest country on Earth! Everybody else eats our dust!”

Bachmann carried on. “This is our vision for America: a country full of freedom and fire and brimstone preachin’ and Mom’s apple pie, and the right to bear arms bein’ the only part of the Constitution we’ll keep, and Ronald Reagan statues in every town, and marriage being only between a man and a woman, and sex only being after marriage for the purpose of havin’ babies, with all the lights turned off. And Alan Jackson and Toby Keith and Ted Nugent tourin’ the country performin’ and keepin’ the dream alive. And no more Obamacare and lots of tax cuts for our corporate buddies and beer all around. And the Dixie Chicks in a concentration camp for ever darin' to insult a Republican president, am I right, Toby?”

Toby Keith stood up and applauded. “You sure are! I hate those Dixie Chicks!”

Bachmann laughed. “And while we’re at it, we gotta bring the rest of the world to heel, right, Sarah?”

Palin nodded. “Absolutely. That means takin’ down that Putin guy once and for all, and droppin’ some nukes on South Korea, and while we’re at it, a few nukes all over the Middle East. Get rid of those Iraqi Anwar Sadat fans once and for all.” This reporter shook his head- did this woman even know when she was making factual errors?

Bachmann continued. “What the world needs to know is that we’re in charge. That means respectin’ us and doin’ what we say or pay the price.” The fact that she said that with her usual vacant smile made the expression all the more disturbing. “That also includes gettin’ even with that Mountie who came down here a few months ago and beat up a few thousand of Rush’s supporters.” Limbaugh was nodding enthusiastically at this point. “No one makes Dittoheads bleed and cry and gets away with it! Canada, either you give us that Metallica drummin’ Mountie so we can have him drawn and quartered, or we drop nukes on you!”

Palin nodded. “Gosh golly, when we’re through, those godless liberal commie fascists won’t recognize the land of the red, white, and blue!” This reporter sighed in dismay, expecting that the difference between communism and fascism was too complicated for the mind of Sarah Palin. “Michele and me, we’re gonna take this country in the right direction, and we’re gonna be the most benevolent overlord rulers of any country everywhere! We’re gonna get back to the basics, and that means steppin’ up and doin’ what we say, and that means you, Levi Johnston! Time to man up and marry Bristol, you punk! And sure enough, give those commie liberals enough time and they’ll come around to see things our way. Or we can just toss ‘em all into some concentration camp with the Dixie Chicks and the gays and the peace activists and the Supreme Court and the holdout Dumbocrats."

Michele smiled in that delirious way of hers. “God help America.... I mean, God bless America! Remember, in 2016, vote Palin and Bachmann!”

“Or Bachmann and Palin!” Palin added.  “Vote for us! You can trust us! I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”

The two left the stage to the sound of Toby Keith and Ted Nugent jamming in a strange rendition of God Bless America. As to the question of what was the worst that could happen, this reporter was envisioning nuclear holocaust. Granted, what were the chances? Who in their right minds would even vote for this pair of dolts?

GOP party bosses were horrified at the prospect of Palin and Bachmann running for the nomination. The Koch brothers were busy hedging their bets, wondering how much bribe money would be needed to control them. This reporter wondered if the Koch brothers ever thought they’d be spending less money just paying taxes than blowing it on political manipulation. And up in Canada, RCMP Inspector Lars Ulrich was cautiously approached by other reporters, who informed him of the demand by the Palin/ Bachmann team. “Drawn and quartered?” he asked, smiling in a strange way. “Well, they’re welcome to try.”

Late night comedians were ecstatic at the thought of a Palin/Bachmann run at the nomination and the sheer possibility of ways they could work this into monologues. “However long this campaign lasts,” Conan O’Brien told reporters, “we’ll have plenty of material to use for years.”

Stephen Colbert, due to take over David Letterman’s old spot on the Late Show in September, mused on getting an early start to take advantage of the full comic possibilities that a Palin/ Bachmann ticket presented. And Jon Stewart, host of The Daily Show, soon to move on, was stunned to hear the news. He told reporters, “They choose now to run for the nomination? This is a dream come true. I wonder if it’s too late to change my mind.”