Reporter's Note: There was an inordinate amount of dancing during the presidential campaign by lots of candidates, including now President Obama. Now, there is an inordinate amount of letter writing from people like me, especially when we see a pol strapping on the tap shoes…
Tom Foreman | Bio
Dear Mr. President,
I have spent the day checking for fever, feeling periodic chills run like rats down my spine, and calling my wife to see if I’ve been exhibiting early symptoms of dementia. The cause of my concern is not swine flu, but a recurring and horrific hallucination. Every time I look at the TV, I see former Republic House Majority Leader Tom DeLay on Dancing With the Stars.
At first I thought I was mistaken. The video popped up after a story on police chases (yes, insert your joke here…) and I wanted to turn the sound up for confirmation of his identity, but I was so transfixed by his leering smile and toreador pants I just sat at my desk gaping like a carp. It’s surreal. His butt wiggling. His mouthing the words to Wild Thing. And even his partner, whoever the heck she is. Altogether it looked like an outtake from the final episode of Twin Peaks. Or what you’d dream if you cooked up the wrong mushrooms in your spaghetti sauce, or were conked in the head with a copy of the Congressional Record by a crazed lobbyists. And I thought that video of Karl Rove dancing was disturbing.
As you may have noticed, I don’t spend a lot of time standing on ceremony. It didn’t bother me a bit that soon to be President Bill Clinton played saxophone on late night TV. I don’t care that former President Bush (the first one) periodically leaps from airplanes.
And even though some people get upset when you go on entertainment shows, I figure even the ruler of the free world has to have some down time, and if you want to spend it cracking wise with comedians, so what? And DeLay is a private citizen, so he can do what he wants of course.
But just because you can do something doesn’t make it a good idea, if only because of this: I have never imagined on my best day that I could survive a political campaign without doing or saying something so patently goofy that I would be pilloried for it. But now, I’m not so sure…maybe I should run! And if it happens, and if I win…well, you can blame the toe-tapping Tom DeLay for that.
All things considered, I suspect the Lambada should not be the only forbidden dance. Call if you want, and unless I’m at the Arthur Murray studio, I’ll be happy to chat.
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