Mitt Romney seems to have it all — what is it that makes his party run the other way?
By Will Durst
Odd week for Mitt Romney. The roller-coaster candidate was on the receiving end of more mixed messages than a basement bulletin board at the United Nations on Take Your Schizophrenic to Work Day. While cruising to an easy victory in the Arizona primary he barely eeked out a squeaker in Michigan. That’s the problem with running around 12 different home states; eventually you’re bound to trip and stumble up some familiar front steps.
Rick Santorum was on track to pull off a stunning upset but couldn’t keep his self-righteous self from shooting from the lip, further fueling the contraception wars. What’s the strategy here? Get women so riled up, you can make a case to repeal the 19th Amendment? Birth Control? Really? What next: you going to play the “radio is the devil’s handiwork” card?
Ayatollah Rick inelegantly stated that one of JFK’s speeches made him want to throw up. Sounds like a man not placing all his Super Tuesday eggs in the great state of Massachusetts basket. I remember seeing JFK when I was a kid. On more than one occasion I heard JFK speak. JFK had an affair with Marilyn Monroe. And you, the hurling Mr. Santorum, are no JFK.
Romney complains the media make him sound like an out-of-touch rich guy. Where ever could they have gotten that idea? Maybe when he said he likes to fire people? Or went to the Daytona 500 and ridiculed spectators for wearing cheap rain ponchos? Or admitted he’s not a big NASCAR fan, but is friends with a couple team owners. You, sir, are beyond clueless. The Anti-Sherlock Holmes. Arthur Conan Doyle has to be spinning in his grave.
Romney has the hair, the money, the staff, the family, the teeth, the cheekbones, the money, the Super PACs, the perfectly faded jeans AND the money; yet, it would be hard to imagine a candidate who has engendered less enthusiasm without first contracting a tertiary case of infectious flesh-eating psoriasis.
Undoubtedly, a significant portion of the ennui he induces has to do with the irregular emergence of his alter ego, Flipper Mitt. When asked about a Senate amendment to be welded onto a transportation bill that would allow employers to pick and choose which health care mandates they wish to follow, Mitt said he was against it and went on to explain why.
An hour later though, he came back to announce he had been confused by the question and what he really meant to say was he was all in favor of the Blunt Amendment. This guy would need extra pages added to the Kama Sutra to keep track of his multitude of favored positions.
Speaking of which, Mrs. Ann Romney, who may also be known as Lovey, kiddingly seconded the notion of strangling the press for going so far as suggesting Mitt sit down for the rest of the campaign and let her do the talking. And the pants-wearing, a move that should surely vex Mr. Santorum’s holy wrath.
Note to sister wife: It’s not just the press that doesn’t like your husband. In case you haven’t noticed, a whole bunch of Republicans aren’t all that into him either. Might want to skip this one and let sleeping dogs lie. Either that or strap them to the roof of one of your couple of Caddies where they belong.
Elect to Laugh! at the Marsh. Every Tuesday. 1062 Valencia. San Francisco. 94110. 415.826.5750 themarsh.org. Special $10 tickets. Use code “vote.”