“Hello, Mrs. Cleaver, can Wallace come over and help me stack the Supreme Court with anti-abortion judges?”

      

“You know, Mr. Cleaver. When I grow up I’m going to smoke a pipe just like you, sir. And also, I plan to kill health care reform!”

       

For the last few weeks I’ve been watching the political debates. Have you? More particularly, have you noticed all the Republican candidates are channeling the spirit and, sometimes, the smarmy personality of Eddie Haskell.

      

Eddie Haskell? Could this be intentional? Or just an amazing coincidence?

       

Eddie Haskell, if you don’t recall, was an American TV character, but a cultural icon all the same. One of Wally’s friends on “Leave It To Beaver,” Eddie was the one you couldn’t trust, the smiling, backstabbing boy who was always manipulating people, sucking up to the adults, telling them what he thought they wanted to hear. Very often, stirring up the plot just to make trouble. But Eddie’s fatal flaw was you could always see through him, see the wheels turning, the eyes calculating, the sham arising.

       

So, I’m watching the debate, and there’s Scott Brown smiling at the audience while Eddie Haskell says, “Gee, Professor Warren, I’m truly sorry I mentioned you’re being a pretend Cherokee warrior. I’d stop talking about it ‘cept no one will let me.”

       

Or there’s Paul Ryan as Eddie Haskell proclaiming, “Dismantle Medicare? Me? I never suggested such a thing. I was just taking my beloved mother—who is much given to charitable works—down to the Medicare office so she’ll always have the best medical care a son, or a country, could provide.”

       

But the best Eddie Haskell, the one impersonation so smooth and successful it’ll take weeks till you realize you’ve been fooled, was the Mittster’s!

       

“Ah, shucks, Mrs. Cleaver, I never intended my tax program to give all that money back to my billionaire and millionaire friends. And Wallace knows I have secret plans to replace Obamacare with something better. I can’t tell you what those secret plans are, Mrs.Cleaver—I would have to kill you, if I did, haha. You’ll just have to trust me.”

       

Mitt was just too good. He out-Eddied Eddie! And we were all so busy figuring out who put the knockout powder in Obama’s Gatorade we never stopped to question all the silken lies the viewers were swallowing, one after the other, as Mitt spewed them out with full Eddie Haskell temerity.

       

“Gee, Mr. Cleaver, if you like my new and improved Caring and Kind Persona, perhaps you’d like to hear how I’m going to help all those undocumented Mexicans and South Americans happily self-deport themselves. Or why my slow emasculation of Medicare will actually be good for older Americans. Or how the destruction of America’s social safety net will actually reduce poverty. Or why…”

       

It’s funny to realize Eddie Haskell hasn’t disappeared from my life, or from the American culture.

       

For some strange reason he’s joined the Republican Party.

       

And Eddie being Eddie, he’s still trying to cause trouble.

        

      

       “What happened?” they cry in disbelief, “What did I just witness?” Unwilling even to process, much less believe what their eyes had just seen. That the President, mister POTUS himself, much storied debater of constitutional law, with a silver tongue and a steel-trap mind for details and insights had just fallen on his spear in a debate with his Republican opponent..

       Yes, the mighty Obama had struck out.

       And their eyes had seen what their hearts can’t accept. That their president, the last man standing as a bulwark against the hordes of right-wing, pseudo-Christian, tea-partying, homophobic fanatics threatening everything they believe in had fallen asleep on guard duty. So emboldening his opponent as to completely undo the advantage he previously held in the race.

       As stink bombs go, this was a real stinker!

       Ahh, the lies Obama allowed to go unchallenged, the weapons he refused, or forgot, to employ. Weapons like women’s rights, Medicare, or Romney’s “47%” comments. But worst of the bunch was Obama’s inability to stand up for himself. He stood there smiling at Romney’s lies like he was afraid to embarrass his opponent by remarking on inaccuracies or mistruths. Where was the Obama who debated Hillary four years ago? That Obama was too hungry to let his opponent get away with anything. This Obama was like a sixth grader called in to pinch hit for David Ortiz.

       Next time, we want David Ortiz.

       And never more was a hit needed. It didn’t need to be a home run; a double would have done just as well. But to let Romney hit one out of the park…!

       “Fraud!” cried the maddened throngs of supporters. “This is not the Obama we knew!” Nor was it a Romney they recognized either.   This Romney pretended to care about them, their futures, their aspirations. Pell grants for all!, double Medicare if they need it!, and tax cuts for everyone! 

       And our mighty Obama, rather than calling out his adversary’s lies, just stood there smiling broadly. Perhaps thinking about the anniversary dinner awaiting him after the debate.

       “Oh well!” the fans cry, “There’s always the next debate.”

       “But will the Mighty Obama even show up?” they worry. “How can we be sure it won’t be the sixth grader all over again?”

         Yes indeed, how can they be sure?

       Oh, somewhere in this troubled land the sun is shining bright. Millionaires taking over, shifting to the right. And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout. But there’ll be no joy in Mudville—till dreaded Romney is struck out!

Who is this figure that trudges across the empty stage in the dark, flinging invocations and invectives as if they were darts? But wait, it is Willard ‘Mitt’ Romney, and as he steps from the shadows into the downcast light we may, if we wish, bear silent witness to the Republican Presidential Nominee wrestling with his demons.

“Darn you! Gosh darn you!” he rails at an adversary as yet unseen on the stage. “How can I be trailing you by 8 points in Ohio? And 6 points in Florida! Doesn’t anybody believe me when I tell them what a disaster you’ve been? Just wait till I get you on this stage. We’ll see how good you are playing one-on-one when you don’t have Bill Clinton or the presidential seal to hide behind.

“Step back!” he suddenly cries, as if his enemy were within striking distance. “You have had your moment in the sun, Barack, and now it is my turn. Mine, do you hear? I’ve earned it, by dint of my massive, relentless effort, not to mention my millions of barely-taxed dollars. And you, you imposter, you poseur—with your easy smile and glib tongue—will not keep me from my destiny. I will not let you. I will scratch out your eyes, tear down your reputation, question your birthplace, repudiate your policies—yes, even when they mimic mine, as they did with your copycat health care reform!”

“Health Care Reform, now there’s the rub! It was mine before it was yours. If only those tea party fanatics weren’t so crazed by the concept, I could have held onto it, claimed it as my own true child, and used it to prove to all those lazy bums and victims—whose gruel bowls are always left empty—how much I care what happens to them in their pathetically small and uninteresting lives! How dare you take what was mine and make it yours?

Like so many others, you have misjudged me, mislabeled and maligned me. I was never inconsistent, Barack. I never shifted my position. How can you waver from an established stance when your only position is to do and say whatever seems necessary to win the presidency? That is my True North, and if I have to act like the town fool singing in a barbershop quartet to win the job, so be it.

But I warn you, Barack, I’m coming back to take ownership of Health Care Reform. Strangely enough, Health Care Reform has become very acceptable to a majority of the electorate, if not downright popular, and I’m going to embrace it as proof that I care about 100% of the people. Heck, I might even take back my comments about forcing immigrants to self-deport, if it’ll help me gain traction in Florida.

“Oh why,” he questions longingly, “why wasn’t I given the advantages of a deprived childhood and a struggling middle class upbringing? Or, failing that, why wasn’t I born to Mexican parents? Cruel is the fate to be born with a silver spoon in my mouth! How much harder it is to be a truly self-made millionaire when your parents have millions. But does anyone appreciate my difficulty? Or even care?

“But wait till they see me up on the stage. Standing next to you, you unworthy jackanapes. There I’ll be, friend of the working class, a millionaire who cares, so humorous in my barbs, so humble in my demeanor, so quick with one-liners that score point after point against you, my unworthy jive-talking opponent. And finally the American public will see me for who I am. The one man—the only living politician— who can keep a straight face while talking about George W. Bush and Dick Cheney as if they didn’t screw America blind. Then leave you to clean up the mess!

“I’m coming for you, Barack. And I’m bringing Paul Ryan with me!”

      Mitt Romney certainly isn’t the Wizard of Oz, but like the bumbling character revealed behind the Wizard’s curtain, he turned out to be just as human and flawed and plutocratic as we always suspected.

       Suddenly through the lens and microphone of a hidden camera, we get to experience a Mitt Romney who sounds more real, more comfortable in his skin and, not surprisingly, more like the spoiled, pampered millionaire’s son who attended expensive prep schools and enjoyed a privileged upbringing, than the automaton candidate who repeatedly shifts his position to suit prevailing political winds.

       Thanks to the wonders of micro video technology we’ve been given a glimpse of a Romney we’ve never seen before—Romney in the raw—the Romney who lets down his hair and loosens his tongue when he’s with other millionaires and CEO’s.

       Wizard-behind-the-curtain-Romney is the real Romney—exactly what you’ll get if you’re foolish or wealthy enough to justify voting for him. This is the Romney who’s been hiding behind the curtain. This Romney has nothing but disdain for Americans unfortunate enough to be out of work, or those too poor to pay taxes. This Romney believes America has a moocher class made up of 47% of the nation’s population who regularly turn their backs on good jobs so they can live off the largesse of our government. More to the point, to live off the largesse of multi-billionaires like himself who pay millions in taxes—when they’re not offshoring their income to avoid taxes—only to have you and I sucking the cream from the top of the milk bottle. You, because you probably used a Pell grant to help pursue your college education, me because I’m old enough to collect social security and qualify for medicare.

       Up till now, when asked to list my profession on some form, I usually put down “writer.” But going forward I intend to identify myself as an American parasite. Or maybe I’ll just enigmatically jot down “47” and let some overpaid government employee figure it out.

       So, here he is America, on video and clearly superior and richer than 99% of you—Mitt Romney, Republican nominee for President of the United States. The fact that he’s deriding half the American population shouldn’t surprise anyone who has followed Republican politics. They’ve done their best to hobble any Obama initiative to help middle class Americans find jobs or free themselves from dependency on government assistance.  As for what Mitt and crew hope to do to some of our most important entitlement programs…

       Let’s just say, you might want to cash your social security check sooner rather than later.

About two days after the Democratic Convention I was feeling pretty good about the upcoming presidential election. Americans, I realized, had many good reasons for putting their support behind Barack Obama.

Health Care Reform, to repeat Joe Biden’s trenchant description, was a “Big f**king deal!” More so when you realized that presidents going back to Franklin Delano Roosevelt had attempted to provide health care protection for Americans without any success, every one of them finding the impediments too large, the battle too politically exhausting. Every one until Obama!

Sure, it was an imperfect bill that became a goody bag for far too many vested interests, but at the end of the day, or more accurately by the end of its implementation delay, 30 million Americans—many of them minorities, most of them poor—would be guaranteed decent affordable health care for the first time in American history.

It was a big f**king deal!

Name one comparable accomplishment by the last Republican Administration, my inner voice challenged potential naysayers. What would you list? “No Child Left Behind,” an education initiative proven woefully ineffective? “The War In Iraq,” which drained America’s wealth and dangerously distracted us from properly pursuing the War in Afghanistan? “The Bush Tax Cuts,” which in light of two ongoing wars, helped break the bank and left us in deepest doo-doo, not to mention deeply in debt to China?

But Health Care Reform was only the first of many accomplishments, some of them of massive import by themselves. And then, like an army platoon hurrying into formation, Obama’s achievements started to assemble in my mind.

Front and center was Obama’s heroic prevention of America’s Second Great Depression. Make no mistake, we were headed for the cliff when Obama pushed past John McCain and Sarah Palin to grab hold of the wheel and bring our economic freefall to a stop.  

Next in formation, the rescue of the American automobile industry. Something like a million jobs and America’s self-esteem had been at stake when Obama stepped in and propped up General Motors and Chrysler. On top of that, even though many ridiculed “Cash for Clunkers” as an unnecessary giveaway, the program had the desired effect of clearing out Detroit’s unmovable inventory and kickstarting its recovery.

Then there was Obama’s tenacious pursuit of the War on Terror, the means of which honorable people can argue about, but which chased down and destroyed much of Al Quaeda’s leadership, including Osama Bin Laden.

The rest of Obama’s major accomplishments rattled themselves off in my mind like recruits answering their drill sergeant, “Student Loan Reform—put in place, sir!”, “Equal Pay for Equal Work Act—signed and ready for action, sir!”, “Consumer Protection Bureau—in place and ready to protect consumers, sir!”, “Wall Street Reform—enacted, sir!” “American Recovery and Reinvestment Act—put in place, sir!” “Pell Grants—expanded for more students, sir!” “Deferred Action—already protecting immigrant students, sir!” “NATO action against Libya—regime change effected, sir!”

Suddenly there was a mob scene in my head, with a crowded chorus declaring all the executive actions and presidential decisions Obama made to help protect our planet, tighten oversight of banks, ensure quality care for wounded vets, reduce middle class taxes, offer relief for those struggling with unaffordable mortgages, and many many more.

Yes, I thought, compared to any American president, but especially to his Republican predecessor whose illegal and unconstitutional use of torture Obama ended on his first day in office, Barack Obama has a record that should easily catapult him into a second term as President of the United States.

After considering all that, I felt confident that Mitt Romney had a hard row to hoe if he hoped to effectively belittle Obama’s record. But still something nagged at me, something I had misplaced, or forgot, or had meant to include in the list above.

And then it hit me, the Gulf Oil Spill! Holy Hannah, I had forgotten the oil rig fire in the Gulf of Mexico and the resulting unstoppable plumes of oil spewing out for three and a half months. All those millions of gallons of crude BP oil gushing out into the Gulf waters and wetlands while Barack Obama, America’s new president barely in his second year on the job, stood his watch, putting his science-wonk Energy Secretary in charge of the crisis team, squeezing $20 billion out of BP to ensure the availability of crisis funds for those who lived and worked in the Gulf, repeatedly visiting the region and monitoring the crisis up until the containment cap was set and black crude no longer leaked voluminously into the gulf waters.

Thinking back to the DNC convention it seemed remarkable that the Gulf Oil Spill hadn’t been mentioned by anyone that I could recall. If ever there was a proven example of Obama’s executive leadership, there it was!

For some reason, perhaps a right-wing conspiracy of unimaginable sophistication and effectiveness, America had totally forgotten The Gulf Oil Spill.

I could picture Joe Biden at the podium of the Charlotte convention center proclaiming, “Osama Bin Laden is dead and General Motors is alive!” as testament to all that the Obama administration had achieved in their four years at the helm. And I wanted to shout to him across the chasm of passing time, above the din of the Republican mud-slinging apparatus, out to all those Americans who, like me, had forgotten one of our nation’s gravest threats of the last few years, almost Katrina-like in its potential for devastation…and cry out, “Remember The Gulf Oil Spill!”

It made me wonder what else we’ve forgotten.