Posted,  Thursday, November 1, 2007   

 “Fourscore and seven years ago our Fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation”…. thus began another chapter in the history of the United States, a country conceived in testosterone and dedicated to the possibility that all boys are created equally (by their mommies).

In the last eight years in particular this country, already suffering from male locker-room overload, has been turned into The Viagra Nation. Tush and Cheeky have so penis-lized this country that women have begun to click their Jimmy Choo high heels together in descent. And, as the world turns, The Pink Brigade is finally showing some eggs. Imagine, a woman is Speaker of the House of Representatives, and now Hillary (Rodham) Clinton is running for president of The Testosterone Nation. My eighty-five year old mother’s eyes are wide with disbelief having grown up in a time when men wore the pants in the American family.

Which begs the question, who wears the pants in Hillary’s family – she or Bill? Miss Tammy “I’m Not” Whine-ette, vying to lead The Steroid Nation back down its path to glory isn’t like other women, and most certainly never was. Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen was hardly a song she would sing as she politely peeled potatoes. “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen,” was more her tune.

I’ve heard women say Hillary hatched Chelsea rather than birthed her and was probably standing up when she did on her way to another meeting. “A Mommy Warrior,” may best describe this new breed of candidate. But since she voted for the war, but was really against the war, maybe the term Warrior doesn’t exactly SUIT her, anymore than mommy is a word that would be her optimal description. Nevertheless, I like Hillary in all her incarcerations or is it incarNATIONS? Still, I have to ask myself, is Hillary the right woman to be the Man for the job?

Times are tough out there in The Testosterone Nation. Really, is anything right with America? Our kids are losing their life and limbs in a war that isn’t a war; the cost of a gallon of gasoline is a galling three dollars as the price of a barrel nears one hundred smackeroos; the cost of food is obscenely high; the crime-rate is up, kids earning high school diplomas down … blah … blah … blah.

What America needs now is a Mommy, a mother to comfort, to guide, nurture, bolster, encourage, and soothe our 9/11-seared nerves. We need someone to pat us on the head and tell us everything is going to be all right and "that we have nothing to fear but fear itself.” What we need is a Franklin Roosevelt in a skirt, but I fear that Hillary is more like Eleanor in pants

 But now that I think about it, maybe that isn’t so terrible … sort of a new, new deal.

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