Gurney's Inn
January 24, 2007

Jerry's Ink


My wife, the beautiful Judy Licht, broke the bad news to me last night and I must tell you I'm not taking it well. I'm pissed. Why me? Why me? Everybody, I mean everybody gets a chance to do this but me.

Maybe I should explain this. A few days ago I decided to seek the Democratic nomination for president of the United States.

Yes, I'm a Republican but it seemed like a tough job to run against the great John McCain who has a lock on the Republican nomination.

Besides, I have to raise money and frankly East Hampton is filled with rich Democrats who, every year, compete with each other to see who could give the most money to some dopey Democratic candidate who will show up at their estates and give a five minute speech.

When Hillary wrote It Takes A Village she was talking about campaign contributions and the Village she had in mind was East Hampton. Truth is if Jesus came down from the heavens and announced he was running for office as a Republican he wouldn't raise a dime.

Let me tell you, I could raise big money as a Democrat.

Don't laugh. I gave this a great deal of thought. So, the first thing anyone reading this is going to think is, "How can he run for president? Nobody's ever heard of him."

Big deal. Sixteen months ago if I sidled up to you and whispered, "See that young, handsome guy over there? That's Barack Hussein Obama. Your reaction would be Obama? Hussein? Somebody call the FBI. How did he escape from Gitmo? Or Borack? Borat? Isn't he that funny guy from HBO who's making a movie? Do you think I could get his autograph?"

Today everyone in the USA knows him and all of you Democrats who are faithful readers of this column are going to give him money and some of you may even consider voting for him. My problem with Obama is every time I see his name I think of "The Name Game," that song from 1965 written by Shirley Ellis:

Obama Bama Bo Bama

Banana-fana fo-fama



Sing a few verses of that when you see his name and all of a sudden you can't take him seriously as a candidate.

So let's look at my Iraq policy.

I don't have one. I don't have a clue what to do.

Isn't that great? That pulls me even with each of the current candidates who when asked about their plans for Iraq do a routine which sounds like Jackie Gleason's old "Hum ana Hum ana" comedy routine that he would do when he didn't have a clue.

I can do what no other Democratic presidential hopeful will dare to do. I can look every voter in the eye and make this promise: "I will be a better president than Jimmy Carter."

Anyway like Dodd, Edwards, Gravel, Kucinich, Vilsack, Biden, Clinton, Obama, Richardson, Clark, Gore, Kerry and Sharpton, I put together an exploratory committee.

It consisted of Judy, my five kids and our two dogs.

Last night Judy broke the news. My exploratory committee didn't think I should run.

"But Judy, in the history of exploratory committees no one has been told not to run. Why the hell form an exploratory committee if they are going to tell you not to run?"

This subverts the whole concept of exploratory committees.

"Jerry," Judy said, "your children, dogs and I think you would be to good, responsible government what John Wayne Gacy was to clowns."

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