We took our own advice and phoned our Senator from the Senate HELP Commitee (Pat Roberts, R-Kansas) to voice our toned-down opinion about the nomination of one Surgeon General nominee previously excoriated herein.
This is the rough draft of our conversation:
(Pleasant, slightly conservative hold music...)
Her: Senator Roberts' office! This is Wilma (name changed because we forgot to write it down).
Me: Hi! I'm a reluctant constituent of Senator Roberts and I'm calling to oppose the nomination of James "Scissors" Holsinger as Surgeon General.
Her: OK. (We think the rustling we heard sounded like a Bible, but it could have been a phone book.)
Me: Despite every indication the Senator has given of his intentions - since birth, really - we want to go on record as being vociferously opposed to this nomination. We also want to say that we don't know anybody who didn't laugh out loud when we read portions of Mr. Holsinger's White Paper from the Methodist Church as it pertained to gay people. This is not the kind of leadership we need at the top of the Health Care System in our country at this critical juncture. Amen.
Her: So you're opposed to the nomination?
Me: Yes. Should I repeat the rest?
Her: No. I got the rest.
Me: If you got the rest, how did you end up undecided as to whether I supported the nomination? (I'm on Prednisone. I'm testy by nature nowadays.)
Her: I was distracted. I'm sorry. You were saying? (More rustling.)
Me: I was done saying, actually, but since you opened the door: Holsinger suggests that we run around with scissors up our butts and I want to be the Kansas Gay Person who goes on record as saying that is NOT true. I don't know anybody who can manage anything faster than a saunter when doing the Scissor Squinch.
Her: Are you serious?
Me: No. But you stopped listening when I said I opposed the nomination. I figured I had carte blanche from there.
Her: So the scissor thing happens?
Me: NO, the scissor thing does not happen. Do you remember the whole Richard Gere/gerbil thing from the 80's?
Her: I'm not that old.
Me: Of course you're not. How did you get this jaded so early? Normally, working for a Republican is the urge that hits you right after the Violet Rinse Syndrome.
Her: Huh?
Me: Never mind. We don't put scissors or gerbils up our butts, but Holsinger wrote down that he thinks we do! Furthermore, he thinks AIDS comes from bad plumbing.
Her: Like the sewer?
Me: No, like how it's a parts problem, not a disease problem. He thinks people get sick because they put their parts in the wrong places. And the scissors. That's just over-the-top. This nomination is the height of lunacy and I want to be documented as having nothing to do with it when people find out my Senator voted for it.
Her: What's your name, again?
Me: Oy. Do you know any gay people?
Her: We're not allowed to say.
Me: You work in Topeka, I can see by the phone number. There are a couple of gay bars there. Before you go to another staff meeting, I would like you to send someone over and physically check for scissors in buttholes. If you find one, I'll fly to Washington and cast the Senator's vote for him - however he likes.
Her: I don't think we have anybody assigned to do that sort of thing.
Me: Neither do we, honey. Neither do we.
(donation of my name, phone and address to the Republican Hit List ensued and call was ended with...)
Her: I'll tell him.
Me: What?
Her: Huh?
Me: What part are you going to tell him?
Her: That you don't care for the nomination.
Me: But that's not the good part! I blog, I wrote it all down a week ago. Can I send it to you?
Her: We're not allowed to do that.
Me: Because I think you're good at remembering things like this, I want you to remember this about gay people and scissors:
No comments:
Post a Comment