December 31

by Stephen McCauley

My Apologies To the President

One of the many things I dislike about Mike Huckabee is that he occasionally says something I agree with.

In mid-December, in an article published in Foreign Affairs, he chided the Bush administration for its foreign policy decisions and accused them of having a go-it-alone "arrogant bunker mentality." That, unfortunately, sounded good to me.

Being a realist, I'm happy to accept that a candidate I do support is never going to go along with all of my positions. On the question of marriage, for example. Since at least 50 percent of all marriages between a man and a woman end in divorce in this country, my belief is that the best way to preserve the institution is to have a constitutional amendment banning heterosexuals from marrying. However, I don't expect any of the current crop of presidential hopefuls to stand up for it, and I'm OK with that. (I have a suspicion Hillary Clinton might privately agree with me, but that doesn't count.)

But when a candidate I basically distrust (Huckabee, to name one) starts sounding reasonable on some issues, I find it confusing.

The day after Huckabee released his statement, Mitt Romney popped up on the Sunday morning news shows and accused his rival of being out of line. "That's an insult to the president," he said in response to Huckabee's statement, "and Mike Huckabee should apologize to the president." I was hoping Huckabee would apologize to Bush, a sign that he was backing away from a postion I agreed with, and making it easier for me to dimiss him entirely. Unfortunately, he didn't.

I see no alternative, therefore, but to take matters into my hands, and issue a few apologies of my own to the president for some things I've thought and done in the past year.

I apologize, Mr. Bush, for blaming you that I didn't get what I wanted for Christmas. I knew it made no sense, even as I was doing it, but you've grabbed so much power over the past seven years, I've fallen into the habit of believing you're responsible for everything that happens - from the dip in the dollar to the rise in gas prices. You are, after all, the self-proclaimed "decider." Despite your abysmal poll numbers and your lame-duck status, you still wield astonishing and impressive control over Congress. But I shouldn't have blamed you for my Christmas presents, and I apologize. I doubt you even knew I wanted an iPhone.

I apologize for getting a little crazy whenever I hear your voice on the radio. I don't know if it's possible to develop an aural allergy - especially this late in life - but I think that might be what's at play. When I hear your tone when you articulate certain words - "terror" and "nuclear," to name two - a temporary form of Tourette's syndrome seems to kick in, and I find myself cursing at the top of my lungs, even when I'm alone in my car. For fear of having my response mistaken for road rage, I immediately switch to another station. I'm sorry.

I apologize for my lack of faith. I know you're big on that. Early in your presidency, I thought you were talking about God when you discussed "faith-based initiatives." But looking at your statements on climate change and abstinence and medical research and weapons programs, many of which run counter to empirical evidence, I'm beginning to think you really mean blind, religious faith in you. What can I say? I'm hopelessly literal, and I have trouble worshipping deities, especially ones wearing cowboy boots. Sorry.

I'm sorry for repeat YouTube viewings of your mother's post-Katrina comments at the Houston Astrodome. Looking around at the displaced masses collapsed on cots and lined up for the portable toilets, she said that since many of the people were "underprivileged anyway" their refugee status was "working out pretty well for them." We're all allowed a few unfortunate comments, but I'm sorry for feeling this one represents the dismissive and condescending Bush attitude toward much of the rest of the country.

I've been thinking that what might work out for your family, after 2008, is a large tract of land in Costa Rica. A sort of fiefdom you could take turns ruling, complete with manicured rain forest, and a large staff you could treat "pretty well."

I don't expect to get everything I want, but I'm sorry for wanting, as a baseline, a president I can trust and believe on essential matters. Someone with a long-range view of things, an interest in the "underprivileged anyway," and a concern for the future of the planet.

At year's end, I'm sorry for having only one New Year's resolution for 2008: Vote.