Ladies and gentlemen, the vice president of the United States:
“Well I’ve got some red meat for ya…”
Can’t make it up… pic.twitter.com/MeNnZmEsCx
— Rex Chapman🏇🏼 (@RexChapman) August 14, 2020
You know, a few days ago Alex mentioned stumbling across Obama’s last Gridiron Dinner speech, in 2016. I mentioned then what I believe to be true, that while obviously that wasn’t a speech the president wrote himself, he had some good help. Obama always had great speechwriters, and he could call on special teams when needed. I believe the Daily Show writers room helped out for comedy events like that.
But then, creatives loved Obama, and still do. Witness all the spectacular entertainers who would crawl over broken glass for an East Room gig. If he needed a funny speech, I’m sure he could get one within 24 hours. A sparkling conversationalist to glam up the head table at a state dinner? An intimate acoustic set on a Wednesday night? Ditto.
Then think: Who has played for the Trumps? Have the Trumps even invited anyone to play for them, or for their guests? We all know the embarrassments. The Rolling Stones have apparently sent multiple cease-and-desists over their songs being used at his rallies. The last July 4 celebration featured a military band of some sort, with some hapless soldier-vocalist plowing through “Uptown Funk” in the same spot the original artist performed it five years ago…for the Obamas. We know about Three Doors Down at the inauguration, the usual Lee Greenwood and contemporary-country B-listers who get booked for these things.
So it figures that they’re not getting the best zinger writers, either. “We’re not going to let Joe Biden and Kamala Harris cut America’s meat” doesn’t even make sense, at least not in the instant way a punchline has to land. Cut consumption? Cut it up with a knife, like Mother does? This is all they have?
Of course, they went after Michelle Obama, one of the most charming and charismatic First Ladies in history, for the crime — the crime, I say! — of trying to improve the diet of American children. They don’t have many legs to stand on here.
On to the weekend. I’m reading about Kamala, the post office, and other stuff. Saturday, I’m driving Kate to Athens, to pick up the band’s Kia, which broke down en route home from a camping trip. It’ll be my first time there since Kate was…in utero. I remember going to a Post reunion and telling everyone I was pregnant. I wonder if anything’s changed.
I guess I should take some pictures.
You all have a good one. Summer is fleeting. Enjoy it while it lasts.