The Ghost Of Ronald Reagan

“Let’s take a break fellas, I am sick of being in damage control mode. I gotta kick it for a few minutes” President Obama complained .

“Okay everyone, let’s leave the President alone for a bit of a rest” announces the President’s chief of staff, then whispering into his bosses ear he adds: “I think in a few days, our pals at CBS, NBC and ABC will have some surprises for them and this onslaught will stop. It’s just real tough trying to get anything on this Big Hollywood/Big Government bunch, they’re all pretty clean, even that nut Mannix.”

“He’s a Jackass.”

“Just rest up a few minutes Barack, – we’ll come back in shortly.”

With that the group left the room, and the President was unusually alone.

Ticking clock. — Distant siren. — Pounding headache.

Putting his feet up and shielding his eyes from the late September light streaming into the oval office, Mr. Obama tries desperately to turn off his brain for just five little minutes.

Tick,.. tock,.. tick,.. tock,.. tick,.. tock….. the beautiful antique clock meters off the seconds as the Chief Executive closes his eyes and tries to find a few minutes of peace. The comforting ticking of the clock continues, as if shepherding his thoughts along a path towards some well needed rest. Almost there… moving along …tick,.. tock,.. closer … getting sleepy…tick… tock, tick… tock, tick— then nothing. Beautiful silence.

“That’s what I had the Jelly Beans for.”

With a start, Obama lurched forward on the couch bursting out of his snooze. The impressive figure speaking before him held out a calming friendly hand as if to say; easy my friend I am here in peace.

“Yes, that’s what I had the Jelly Beans for…, I ate them on a break. It took me out of tense situations, so I could get a fresh perspective on things. Like a five minute vacation, you could say.”

Across from the young President sat an impressive figure of a man. Hair perfect. Suit handsome. Shoes shining. Smile charming.

“Well Mr. Obama, how do you get perspective on things?” Ronald Reagan asked. “What gives you peace?”

“Not much these days” said the dazed young President rubbing his eyes. ” I mean, Kennedy, Washington, Lincoln, now you. What the hell?”

“No, not ‘hell’ at all son, hel-p. We come here to try to help you realize some things. You’re our latest legacy son. We’ve a stake in this, …we love this nation and feel that you are being led down a path by some really misguided notions. Some from your special interest supporters and inner circle, some from inside your own head and heart.

Today, I’d like to talk to you about something you have called for in this nation. You called for ‘fundamental change’ during your campaign. Listen, our constitution is just about as perfect a document and instrument that living beings could ever come up with. I happen to believe it was inspired by God Almighty, through men, to create a great home for freedom to prosper, so that men may achieve, dream and give the way God intended. That document and this nation do not need fundamental change Barack. Tweaks yes. But fundamental change? No sir. That sir smacks of fundamental rights being distorted or even taken away.”

“Come on Mr. President, this nation was being ruined by a war waged by my predecessor,… this nation was in bad shape. Fundamental change is needed to make sure we don’t go back to those days of despair” Mr. Obama beseeches, in a slightly annoyed tone.

“Oh please cut that baloney with me Barack. Your predecessor had just what you have; A war. Ignore it if you will, but it will still be there. They are still there. Tell me; what ever happened to those Code Pink Sirens outside this office? They aren’t blowin’ any more are they? You campaigned with all those others that were screaming ‘this war is lost’. Like hell it was. Darn fine job Bush did. Not perfect, but war never is. That guy was like a pit bull – his teeth sunk deep into his commitment to protect our nation, – and he never let go. Damn the polls, damn the popularity. Handle it in your style, but please literally for goodness sake, handle it.

And while we’re on the subject; it’s up to you not to pull an ‘LBJ’ in Afghanistan. Get your act in gear Mr. President and listen to your commanders on the ground.

Well my time is short, I am due back at the ranch. Gonna cut some wood. Yes, that’s another thing that would give me perspective; good hard physical work. I was never one for the treadmill or the aerobics you know. So, Mr. President, I wish you piles and piles of therapeutic wood to cut, and may they solve your problems by healing your thoughts. Oh and one more thing, stop referring to yourself in the third person. It sounds pompous, and quite frankly, a little silly. Not to be a dime store Sigmund Freud, but by talking about ‘The President’, in the third person all the time you sound a little defensive. You don’t have to announce the position. You bear the responsibility, not the position… you are the position.”

Slapping his knees lightly and standing up out of the chair, California’s favorite son sparkled a youthful smile and added; “It’s a service business you’re in Mr. President. You above all, are in the business of serving the nation. So my final advice to you Barack is simple, find yourself your own type of Jelly Bean break, and in those minutes search your soul, think of the people, and reflect on the genius of the document. No fundamental change needed there at all.”

Then touching President Obama lightly on the shoulder and motioning him back towards the couch, Ronald Reagan added;

“Hey, you know what? You do look really very sleepy. You’d better get some rest there Mr. President. Go ahead Barack, close your eyes… that’s it my friend, …listen to the clock. I always loved that clock.. the way it went; Tick…Tock,… tick ….tock,…”

Tick, …tock, …tick,…