Sherry Chandler » 2008 » July » 25
A correspondent has pointed me toward this article by Karen McDonald in the Peoria Journal-Star: Why Choose Peoria?
PEORIA — Why will the president of the United States come to Peoria to raise money for a 26-year-old, first-time congressional candidate?
Some political gurus say he’s looking for positive press to build his legacy. Others say he simply has nothing better to do - with Aaron Schock’s apparent lead in the race, George Bush can’t do much harm to his campaign.
“My speculation is there’s not much else he can do around the country right now in terms of campaigns.
“His poll numbers are very low. Nobody wants to be seen with him,” said Christopher Mooney, professor of political studies at the Institute for Government and Public Affairs at the University of Illinois-Springfield.
“(Schock) has got a comfortable lead, he’s got a lot of money, he’s got the smell of inevitability about him. If it was a close race, I don’t think you’d be seeing George Bush coming out here.”
Bush will appear today at Weaver Angus Farms for a $500-per-plate fundraiser for Schock, who is running for the 18th Congressional District seat against Democrat Colleen Callahan and Green Party candidate Sheldon Schafer.
If I hadn’t sworn off schadenfreude, I might take some satisfaction in the contrast between Barack Obama’s Berlin speech before a “vast throng” (according to David Brooks) and George W. Bush’s fundraiser in Peoria.
Though, mind you, it is still going to take more than a tone poem to secure my vote.
Anyhoo, my correspondent tells me Colleen Callahan is holding a $15 a plate catfish dinner in the Kickapoo VFW Hall at the same time that Bush is doing is $500/plate appearance. I know who I’d rather have a jug of joy juice with. (Come on. It’s the VFW Hall. No “with whoms” allowed. And if you’re old enough to know what Kickapoo Joy Juice is, then you’re old enough to know better.)
This post was written by sherry
Photo by Tom C. Williams, I’m pretty sure.
The Cat’s Song
Mine, says the cat, putting out his paw of darkness.
My lover, my friend, my slave, my toy, says
the cat making on your chest his gesture of drawing
milk from his mother’s forgotten breasts.
Let us walk in the woods, says the cat.
I’ll teach you to read the tabloid of scents,
to fade into shadow, wait like a trap, to hunt.
Now I lay this plump warm mouse on your mat.
…
— Marge Piercy (read the rest at the link)
This post was written by sherry
