Political Satire: Having trouble surviving these times? You’re not alone. Join us in columnist John F. Di Leo’s exploration of an alternate universe, where we imagine the impossible:
Joe Buckstop, an aging, corrupt old fool, somehow becomes president in his basement, and every night, in these early months of his “administration,” an aide has to bring him his soup and discuss the events of the day as he prepares to receive his nightly meds…
Dateline, February 20. Begin Transcript:
“Happy Saturday, boss! How’s it going?”
“Well, how do you think.”
“Beg your pardon, sir?”
“Saturday night is the loneliest night in the week.”
“Is that a comment or a song, sir?”
“Huh?”
“Well, there’s a great Sammy Cahn song by that title… Just wondering if you were making a comment or just mentioning that you’re bored tonight.”
“Bored. Just bored. No one to talk with, all by myself.”
“No one to walk with, I’m happy on the shelf.”
“Huh? What’s that?”
“Sorry, sir, I thought you were still quoting songs. That last one was Fats Waller.”
“Who?”
“Fats Waller, the jazz pianist, sir? He wrote Ain’t Misbehavin’, sir.”
“What about it?”
“You just quoted it, sir.”
“Oh? No I didn’t.”
“No one to talk with, all by myself, sir. It’s the opening line of Ain’t Misbehavin’. Fats Waller.”
“Never heard of him. Never met him.”
“I’m sure you didn’t, sir. He died when you were a baby.”
“I didn’t do it! It’s not my fault! Don’t accuse me!”
“Who’s accusing you? I didn’t say it was your fault. He died when you were a baby, sir.”
“I have an alibi!”
“Of course you do, sir. He died of pneumonia on a train, sir.”
“That shouldn’t be allowed!”
“Um, what, sir? Pneumonia, trains, or dying?”
“Uh, gee… I don’t know… what were we talking about again?”
“Actually, sir, I just asked how your day was going, sir, and then it sort of got carried away. I have your soup, sir…”
“Oh, goody! What am I wearing? Pinstripes, I hope. I love my pinstripes.”
“No, sir, not suit sir… soup, sir.”
“Soup?”
“Yes, sir, here… soup… in a bowl… like every night, sir.”
“Oh, SOUP! Hurray! I love soup!”
“I told the kitchen that you were in a mood for some kind of Tex-Mex soup the other day, sir, and they found this recipe online. Hope it’s good. They called it Tex Mex Chicken Soup.”
“Why would I want Tex Mex? I’m from Pennsylvania.”
“Yes, I know, sir.”
“Scranton. Raised in Scranton. Did you know I’m from Scranton?”
“Yes sir. You’ve mentioned it, sir.”
“Oh. So what’s the soup tonight?”
“Tex Mex Chicken Soup, sir.”
“Oh, that sounds good! Why?”
“Because you requested it, sir.”
“I did? Neato. Well, thanks. Where are the crackers?”
“Right here, sir.”
“Oh yes. Good soup.”
“So what did you do today, sir? Anything interesting?”
“Went to the hospital.”
“Oh? Just a checkup, I hope, sir?”
“Huh? Oh no, not me. Not for me. I’m fine. Somebody else. Went to see somebody.”
“Who, sir?”
“Who? Hmm… Who did I see…. Oh yes… Bob Dole. Senator Dole. He’s old, you know. Really old.”
“Oh, Senator Dole. From Kansas. Yes sir, he’s certainly up there. 97, right?”
“Cancer. Got cancer. Bad.”
“How was he, sir?”
“Sick, of course! What kind of a question is that?”
‘No, sir, I meant, did he seem in good spirits, did he seem in pain, what?”
“I don’t know. I don’t notice those things. Went to shake hands with him and everybody just looked at me funny. Apparently he can’t shake hands with his right hand. How was I to know a thing like that?”
“Well, sir, you did serve with him in the Senate for about 20 years.”
“I did?”
“And the whole country knows the story of his war injury, sir.”
“What war injury?”
“His right hand, sir.”
“What about it?”
“Machine gun fire, sir.”
“Don’t be an idiot. If he can’t shake hands, he certainly can’t shoot a machine gun.”
“No, sir, I mean. umm…. that’s WHY he can’t shake hands, sir. He was caught up in German machine gun fire, sir.”
“What were the Germans doing in Kansas?”
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“When were the Germans in Kansas with machine guns?”
“They weren’t, sir. They were in Italy. Bob Dole is FROM Kansas.”
“Machine guns can’t shoot all the way from Italy to Kansas!”
“They didn’t, sir. He was in Italy at the time, sir. Fighting the Germans. It was World War II, sir.”
“Oh.”
“So his arm was basically destroyed by machine gun fire, sir. It healed enough that it didn’t need to be amputated, but it was pretty much rendered useless, sir. That’s why he shakes hands with his left hand, sir. The story of his recovery after the war is legendary, sir. After months in hospital, he worked out at home with what they called ‘window weights’ for years, to get back in condition to move around. He went to law school, became a congressman, then a senator. Quite an impressive man, sir.”
“Oh, right. I must’ve known that. I must’ve forgotten it.”
“That’s okay, sir. We all forget things sometimes, sir.”
“What’s that?”
“We all forget things, sir.”
“You too?”
“Yes, sir. So did Senator Dole have any advice for you, sir?”
“I don’t remember. Wait… I remember something. I remember him saying something, plain as day … what was that… Oh, Yes, now I remember. He said to stop lying about his record.”
“Ummm… sir, are you sure about that?”
“I remember it. Plain as day.”
“But are you sure you heard it today, sir?”
“Oh. Today?”
“That’s what he said to George HW Bush, sir. In a campaign. in 1988, sir. I was just watching the videos the other day, sir. Could that be what you were thinking of?”
“Oh. Bush, huh?”
“Yes sir.”
“Well. Maybe…”
“If that was on your mind, that might be why you thought he said it today, sir.”
“Oh. Right. Hmmm…. Oh dear.”
“What is it, sir?”
“I think I made another mistake today.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“When I left, I remember wishing him the best in his next primary. I told him he’s sure to beat Bush this time, but the guy to really watch out for is Jim Thompson.”
“Jim Thompson?”
“Yeah. Governor of Illinois. Big midwestern state. He’ll do really well in this primary.”
“Yes sir. I’m sure he will, sir. Ummm… Enjoy your soup, sir.”
Copyright 2021 John F Di Leo
Excerpted with permission from “Evening Soup with Basement Joe, Volume One,” from Free State West Publishing, available in paperback or eBook exclusively on Amazon.
John F. Di Leo is a Chicagoland-based international transportation and trade compliance professional and consultant. A onetime Milwaukee County Republican Party chairman, he has been writing a regular column for Illinois Review since 2009. His book on vote fraud (The Tales of Little Pavel) and his political satires on the current administration (Evening Soup with Basement Joe, Volumes I and II) are available only on Amazon
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