Confessions of a Presidential Doppelgänger: Why I Need Joe to Hang Up His Hat

Hi Joe,

Remember me? It’s me, Dave. You know, the guy who can fill in for you at a moment’s notice. The dude who looks enough like you behind a pair of Ray-Bans that the Washington press corp gets fooled for a minute or two.

I took the job, with its hefty paycheck and the 24/7 on-call responsibility, with the understanding that it would be all quick hits. You know, things like when I took over for you when you got the stomach flu on the evening you were supposed to meet the Japanese ambassador. Or the time I stepped up to the plate when the Little League champions came to the White House for a photo op and you had a bad case of sniffles. Heck, I even did the teleprompter thing for you at a donor luncheon the day Jill needed you to bring some boxes to her classroom.

But Joe, I’ve got to tell you that I am worried. I’ve watched the debate; I’ve seen the George Stephanopoulos interview. And you know what has me upset? Not that you might lose the election — though that sure looks likely. I’m worried about the small chance that you are going to win!

Here’s the skinny. We know that you are a trooper between 10 am and 4 pm. But what about all the policy breakfasts and state dinners that are outside of those hours? If you are Prez for another four years are you going to need me to substitute for you on all of those appointments? Am I going to have to give up ALL my “Netflix and Chill” nights to pretend to be the “President”? That’s not quite what I took this gig for. After all, before I became your Dave I was retired and loving it.

So please Joe. Think of me and get out of the race. I’m happy to do another five months of fill-ins, wherever you need me. But after that why don’t you retire to sunny beaches, gentle waves, and Tequila Sunrises. And let Kamala or Donald or whoever get their own doppelgangers–this one wants to go home.

With Warmest Regards.

Your friend and imposter,

Dave.

Is the Democratic Party Living in Fantasyland?

Which quote should be the new motto of the Democratic party?

A. “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!” The Wizard of Oz

B. “Who ya gonna believe, me or your own eyes?” Duck Soup

C. “The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears.” 1984

D. All of the Above

I’m going with “D”. Each one of those lines is an embodiment of what the Democratic Party and President Joe Biden’s inner circle are trying to tell us.

“It was a one-time blip.” “Like everyone he has good days and bad days.” “He had a cold.” Horsefeathers!

I’ll give you one more movie quote.

“I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore.” Network

The party of my youth, my middle age, and my retirement, the party whose convention I have planned on volunteering at, the party that was going to save our nation, has gone ostrich, sticking its head in the sand. Do they really think that a few million voters in key states will forget last Thursday?

I read in today’s New York Times that “in a Zoom audio call on Monday with about 500 members of campaign’s National Finance Committee and some other contributors, some of the Biden campaign’s senior-most officials held forth for an hour on a special call, including the chair Jennifer O’Malley Dillon, deputy campaign manager Quentin Fulks and a pollster Molly Murphy.”

Am I the only one who has a problem with that Zoom call? Where was Joe? The ONLY person who can convince me and the masses that Joe Biden can successfully serve four more years in the White House is Joe Biden. If he can’t be allowed to meet with his biggest donors, what message is he sending to them, and to us?

I know that President Biden has served our country well. I understand he has pride and a combative nature. I realize some party bigwigs fear a divided convention while others fret over a Kamala Harris candidacy. There is no crystal ball predicting the future.

But I am fearful and angry when I hear the President plans to stick with this all the way to November.

And so, just as a young White Sox fan once begged Shoeless Joe Jackson over 100 years ago, I am beseeching you to say it ain’t so, Joe.

Do you agree with me? disagree? Leave a comment and let me know.

Related: Jill Help Joe.

Please Dr. Biden. Help Joe Out.

I am worried. I am concerned. I am terrified. What I witnessed last night has left me shaken and fearful.

Half a year ago. I posted a blog asking President Biden to weigh his options and announce that we would not run for re-election in 2024. Heck, I even wrote the speech for him–and a pretty damn good one, if I must say so myself.

Sadly, Good Ole Joe felt in his bones that he had another four years left. And with his State of the Union address, he came close to convincing me. But last night was a different Joe.

All the backroom talk I had heard about his decline took on new vibrancy. From his first moment walking to the podium, until his final summation, I saw that this was not a man our country would choose in November.

Sure, the spin is that he gained momentum as the evening went on. So what? It’s like a drama critic writing that I wrote a terrible play, but the epilogue was OK. By then, it’s just too late, the damage has been done.

I disagree with almost everything Donald Trump says and stands for. He is a liar, a bully, a narcissist. He has the potential to lead us into a nightmare future. But after last night, I see him as our country’s next President. And I quake.

So Dr. Jill Biden, please intervene. Talk to Joe. Tell him not to run. You don’t have to say it’s because of age or fragility. Say it for the sake of you – his wife, or Hunter – his son. Do it for me. Do it for our country. Do it now.

Does Trump Have America By The Pussy?

“Grab ’em by the pussy. You can do anything.”

Where were you in October of 2016 when the Washington Post published the infamous Donald Trump/Hollywood Access tapes? Did you, like me, assume that this was it, that this was the moment the wheels would come flying off and the Trump train would derail for good?

How wrong we were. That comment and the rest of his “locker room” chatter with Billy Bush proved to be barely a speed bump in the theretofore unimaginable presidential campaign of 2016. And that was just the beginning of the Trump Express. Trump won in 2016, claimed he won in 2020, and has an excellent chance of winning in 2024.

Trump has grabbed us right in the privates. How have we let this happen? How has the American electorate elevated a demagogue with no discernable skills other than to shine a light on our fears and stoke our hatred to once again be within baby steps of the highest office of the land?

He has informed us of his plans to be a dictator. As he told Mr. Bush on that long-ago recording “…when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything.” For millions of Americans, he is more than a star. He is a prince, a king, a god waiting to ascend to Mt. Olympus. After all, he has let us know God (Judeo-Christian variety to be precise) has anointed him. Just ask an evangelical.

America, I think we are in trouble. The world is a powder keg, a tinder box. An irrational, unprincipled US President will not bring to the world peace or an end to all wars. He will create a vacuum. The race by aggressive world leaders to fill that void will have the explosive force of hydrogen atoms crunching together in a fusion reactor. None of us will escape the fallout.

I will concede things are not perfect in the present administration. Yes, we need to figure out and pass a humanitarian border/dreamer policy. Yes, we may need to take a more nuanced stand on events on the world stage. The far left is as outrageous as the far right (though I would argue less dangerous.)

But America, please don’t reelect the guy who wants to grab us by the pussy. Let’s grow some balls and welcome Joe Biden for another four years. Not all nice guys have to finish last!