Wednesday, March 07, 2007
The Pops' Bucket Digest Of Books, Volume... I Lost Count
When I was in college, I took a lot of shit from my friends for dating a much older woman. After a lot of long talks, she finally convinced me that they were just jealous because she was, she told me, "experienced" and beautiful and everything they're girlfriends weren't, by which I assumed she meant stretch-mark free. Then she bought me a PlayStation and a car. It got easier eventually as soon I had no friends left. I did get a pretty bracelet to celebrate the alienation of the last one, though.

She ditched me eventually as I (ironically) got too old for her tastes. Plus I don't know if ever really recovered myself in her esteem after that time I agreed to be a bottom and I cried afterward. But I was a simple boy from humble beginnings, by which I mean we didn't have cable. There was no way I could have been prepared for that. Ask any guy and he'll tell you his first receiving-end can stir up some strong, unexpected emotional stuff. Especially if you run out of lube about half way through.

All the taunts and all the tears were worth it though. We still keep in touch, which is good. I'm here with my blog desperate for material and she went on to bigger and better things. Anytime I want it now, I've got an "in" in the publishing business. You can read that however you like.

I've used it before to get exclusive first-looks at books.

Now I am proud to present for you all, for the first time ever, a sneak-preview excerpt from the not-yet-released Jenna Bush book entitled Ana's Story: A Journey of Hope.


It is so hot here in Panama City. So hot. It's like a swelter.

They have air conditioning here in my hotel, but it totally doesn't barely work. Plus the rooms are so small that I had to rent three of them in a row just so I could hear myself think. And I need it because I think LOUD.

You would have thought they would have considered who I was before calling this dump a "Presidential Suite." I mean, I've been in a "Presidential Suite" and this is the kind of shit we wouldn't give to the Kenyan Undersecretary of Agriculture in Charge of Soy. Dad calls him "Short Mocha Latté" and makes sure he always gets a good room.

Anyway, I was proud of myself today. Only eleven cigarettes! But I gained four pounds since last week. God, I don't know how people do this.

Also, I actually left the room! I had planned to try to get all the way down to the lobby, but when the elevator came, there was this gross old lady in it and, well, I am sure you can see why it was out of the question. I'm typing this on my laptop under my covers.

From what my assistant Stephanie is telling me though, there is a lot of good poverty and suffering happening out there.

She told me about this girl Ana, whose story I would like to relay to you in the course of this book.

Ana is a survivor. She is everything we as Americans find disgusting: she is foreign, speaks Spanish, has colored skin, is an unwed mother and has AIDS. All that and still she survives. It's like a miracle.

The sad irony is that, the way affirmative action works in America, she could have any job there she wanted. Even Supreme Court Justice. But Stephanie tells me that here in Panama, so many people look and live like Ana that affirmative action does her almost no good.

My flight leaves the so-called "airport" in about three hours, but Stephanie assures me that she will stay and see this story through to the end. She will or she'll have her funding cut off.


Wow. It's John Kennedy's Profiles in Courage all over again. In twenty years when Jenna is threatening her dad's record as Worst President Ever, I'm sure we'll all look back on this as Where It All Started.

Which means we still have time to stop it.

This post on the Narcissus Scale: 4.4




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