My First 100 Days
by Bill Shein
April 30, 2009
While reading any of the 1.9 million news stories about President Obama’s first 100 days in office, do you feel like a lazy, pathetic slacker? I know I do. Because let’s face it: The guy did more in three months than most of us could do in an entire presidency.
(Though I would spend far more time jumping on my White House bed yelling, “I can’t believe I’m the president!” Which no doubt explains my presidency-less future.)
By way of comparison, here’s what I’ve done since Jan. 20:
Jan. 20 (Day One) – President Obama is sworn into office in front of cheering millions, his hand on Abe Lincoln’s bible. He pledges to hold accountable those who have profited from financial misdeeds, and says he will pursue the public good.
Inspired, I arrange a few dozen stuffed animals on my bed, place my hand on a pile of Lincoln Logs, and deliver a stirring address. I vow to crack down on those who claim to use “all new materials” in stuffed animals, when in fact they don’t. One of my Beanie Babies – no doubt filled with used, shredded dish towels – actually cries.
Jan. 21 (Day Two) – On his first full day in office, the president establishes strict ethics guidelines for those serving in the White House. Hours later, at the grocery checkout, I actually “leave a penny” for the first time ever, instead of just taking one, which I usually do even when I don’t need any pennies. My heart grows three sizes.
Jan. 28 (Day Nine) – Obama meets with corporate CEOs to discuss executive pay and rally support for his stimulus package. Meanwhile, after several frustrating hours on the phone with Verizon tech support trying to restore my Internet service, I call Verizon CEO Ivan Seidenberg to complain. Within 90 seconds, I am arrested, blindfolded, and sent to a Verizon “black site” in Uzbekistan.
Feb. 13 (Day 25) – Sen. Judd Gregg (R-NH) withdraws as Obama’s choice for commerce secretary, citing irreconcilable differences over the stimulus package. Moments later, I call the White House to submit my name for consideration. After angrily insisting that I speak directly with the president, I am transferred to the Secret Service duty officer. Frightened, I say my name is “Ivan Seidenberg” and quickly hang up.
Feb. 24 (Day 36) – Addressing a joint session of Congress, the president says “the day of reckoning has arrived” for those responsible for the financial excesses and mismanagement of the recent past. Reprising my Inauguration Day speech, I tell my stuffed animals – this time joined by two live cats – that we’re closing in on the lying, greedy, stuffed-animal manufacturers. A one-eyed Gund bear roars his approval.
Feb. 26 (Day 38) – President Obama unveils a $3.55 trillion budget that he says will transform our economy and create a sustainable and prosperous future. While trying to calculate how many “take a penny” pennies add up to $3.55 trillion, my brain collapses in upon itself. I take to my bed for three days.
March 4 (Day 44) – The president announces a plan to save $40 billion in “wasteful spending” by eliminating the use of outside contractors for work that can be done by government employees. While I appreciate Obama’s goal, I regret the end of my longstanding contract to provide the Office of the Assistant Deputy Undersecretary for Writing-Filled Documents with five hours per week of unspecified “editorial consulting and napping services.” At an annual salary of $175,000.
April 12 (Day 83) – On orders from President Obama, Capt. Richard Phillips is rescued from Somali pirates. With the public image of a pirate forever changed, I cancel plans for a fun, Caribbean-themed bar-and-grill in the Berkshires called “Great Barrington Reef.” I sell my hilarious pirate costume (and eye patch) and no longer practice saying, “Arrrrggh, can I start you folks out with some jalapeno poppers?”
April 28 (Day 99) – While reading yet another story about the first 100 days of the Obama administration, I make a list of everything I’ve done since Jan. 20, just to see how my accomplishments compare to the president’s. Shocked, I file it away forever – to avoid embarrassment and ridicule – and curl up for several hours with my stuffed animals and cats.
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Bill Shein’s new Obama-themed Tex-Mex restaurant is called “Yes We Cantina.”
(This column first appeared in the Berkshire Eagle on April 30, 2009)
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Reader Comments (8)
I've managed to *NOT* be hospitalized so far this year.
Plus, I bought some tomato and strawberry plants which are still sitting on the patio waiting to be planted.
I *did* take care of the under-inflated tires on my car, however, which we all know will solve the world fuel crises ... if only everyone else would do the same thing!
So I think I've accomplished more than you, Mr. Shein, pneumonia notwithstanding.
Harrumph.
Yeah, Cubby Gund!
Where have you been all my life? Very funny, and not like TBS Tyler Perry funny, but really funny. You've got a new fan. BTW, I just subscribed to your email feed and have a suggestion for a future column - forgive me if you've already covered it. Is there a trick to reading and correctly completing the verification codes when you sign up for something - like your feed for instance? It took me three tries and there were tears involved.
@denisedear - I usually have to click "show me another" (or similar) about 149 times before I get one I can actually read. (Glad you're enjoying the column(s). I'll see if I can work in some Tyler Perry references going forward...)
Thanks, I needed a good laugh. I "kept as new" your newsletter for a couple of days before reading...hope you don't mind. I never considered just deleting it.
You're fulfilling a great need by working toward justice for all stuffed animals.
Nap taking is a wonderful thing. I often think wistfully of crawling under my bed and curling into the fetal position for a nice, long hibernation. The only thing keeping me from it is there's just way too much dust and junk under there. And I'm allergic to dust.
Bill, I have a fantastic, hilarious (as well as wonderful) idea:
Sign yourself up as A FAN on your own facebook page! Surely you like yourself, right? Stop calling me Shirley.
Bill, your hyperactive do-goodism shames me in my sloth.
I vow vengeance, if I can ever convince myself to put down the remote and get up off the couch.
I've been watching our new President quite closely, waiting for that moment we were warned about during the campaign when he would surrender our country to the terrorists. So far, nothing-- but I'm keeping my powder dry.
My storm cellar is well-stocked with what I hope are adequate supplies of beer, saltine crackers and other essentials in case We The People have to "go to the mattresses" anytime soon against "the terrorists" or maybe those Socialist fellows Rush talks about all the time. (Haven't seen any of them yet, either, but I reckon it's better safe than sorry.)
You be safe up there in whatever undisclosed location (ha-ha) you're reporting from this week.
I'll leave you with a topical pun I heard from one my still-nursing-wounds-sustained-in-November co-workers. (This same guy said to me, in all seriousness, on the day after the election, "I don't care how smart he is. Shit, man, if ten of 'em can't run a McDonald's, how's one gonna run this country?")
It was once said that there'd be a black man elected to the White House when pigs fly. Well, here we are, 100 days in, and what happens?
.........(drum roll)...............
....................wait for it..................
The swine flu.
(Quite a thigh-slapper, eh?)
Watch out for the sniffles.
Do not forget, it was said that if Mr. O lasted the 100 days, that pigs would fly!
Well 100 DAZE and Swine Flu