January 13, 2010 06:12 PM UTC

Restless Night

•  
• by: JO

Don’t know why, just couldn’t fall asleep last night. Maybe it was that Aussie wine they served at the reception. Can you imagine that? Serving Australian wine at a reception for a sitting United States Senator? Good thing we weren’t in California!

Anyway, about 3 o’clock I thought I heard a noise, but before I could even sit up, I realized he was sitting next to my bed, reading fairy tales. Can you imagine that? Mike had followed me home. I guess he must have slipped into the garage before I put the door down, and now he’s in my bedroom, calm as anything, reading one of those fantasies we used to discuss in civics class in first or second grade. No, third grade. It was in third grade. I was in the advanced class.

“Senator!” (Sound dumb? Yeah, well, wait until you wake up with an Appointed One–your Dream Boat!–sitting right next to you at 3 a.m.!)

“Yes, my child, just stay calm. I won’t hurt you. What can I do for you? What can I tell you?”

“Ah, Senator, did you drop that money on the floor? I’m sure it isn’t mine! I can’t remember the last time I had a $100 bill! Why, I can’t remember the last time I had $100.”

“Never mind that. Money doesn’t matter. I’m here now, right here in Estes Park, errr, Berthoud. Sorry. I’m looking out for your good. And don’t worry…those coyotes are a long way off! Plus, the Scarsdale Police can take care of them.”

“Scarsdale?”

“Don’t worry. Just a little inside joke.”

“Well, Senator, I was tossing and turning and worrying…about my job, and my income, and whether I’ll still have a job if people keep having to move out of their houses ’cause of being unemployed and all, you know. And it seems like you know a whole lot about banking, being on the Banking Committee and all. Is everything going to be all right Senator?”

“Oh, my child! Is that all it is? Now, you just relax and don’t worry your little head. Phil knows all about about these things, and what’s best for everyone, and I learned a lot from him, plus he’s always there, or his friends are always there, to help me if I have any questions–about how to vote and all.”

“Phil?”

“You know, Anshutz.”

“Oh. The rich guy? Is he the one who advises you on how to vote on the Banking Committee?”

“Well, not just him, of course. There are lots of guys I can meet after work in Washington to help explain things to me. Like how important it is that smart bankers get back onto the B-track.”

“B-track? I don’t think I’ve heard of that…”

“That’s what they call the route to becoming a billionaire. Ten million here, twenty there… it eventually adds up, you know.”

“Oh.”

“And, you know, no one can expect every collatoralized debt equity to turn out equally. That’s why people sell short and long at the same time, only on different accounts, of course. But it’s all okay, ’cause the government is there to protect ’em, you know, sort of like FDIC, only for big boys and in bigger amounts. Not to worry.”

“Oh, I guess I see. I’m beginning to feel better.

“By the way, Senator, I for one can’t believe that Andrew Romanoff, still challenging you for the nomination! The nerve of him! Doesn’t Rahm Emanuel have his telephone number?”

“I don’t know, deary, maybe he doesn’t answer to the White House. But you shouldn’t worry. The White House knows best. As soon as they take care of the New York senate race, they’ll have time to explain things to … what’s his name? Romanoff? Wasn’t he the one who thought politicians should get elected before they put on the crown? You can see how hopeless some people are!”

“Ohhhh, I’m suddenly so sleepy. What was in that wine glass?”

“Never mind, dear, you had a good time at the party, didn’t you? Don’t worry. I have your best interests at heart.”

And then this morning, all gone. Feel great. Just rinse that wine glass, then off to work.