First Ladies

I barely remember Mamie Eisenhower and wasn't interested in First Ladies at the time anyway. But Jackie Kennedy, while charming most of the world was not a favorite of mine. I never understood why she was considered beautiful. She was okay, but nothing to rave about. I suppose after the likes of Eleanor, Bess, and Mamie any woman without osteoporosis, facial hair, and liver spots would look gorgeous. She didn't have a personality that made me want to sip French wine and chat. I couldn't see her discussing Cointelpro or the Bay of Pigs, and since I shop locally we'd have no buying tactics to share. Like many of the women in the 1960s, Jackie's airy whispery voice grated on my ear. I've never understood why the feminine voice at such a breathless first grade girl pitch was considered sexy. I remember how the fickle public was quick to turn away when Jackie at 38 married the old coot Onassis but just as quickly forgave Jackie with the new O. Most admirable for her fortitude in tragedy, but basically most talented at shopping and jetsetting. Remembered for refurbishing the WH during her brief stay, and for the blood stained pink suit in Dallas. Who can blame her for seeking the protection and security of Onassis when they were killing Kennedys here.

Lady Bird. Always memorable for keeping America beautiful. She joined the Keep America Beautiful group, a nonprofit organization formed in 1953 to educate Americans on cleanliness standards. She helped convince good citizens that driving down the highway in a big fin Buick tossing out pop bottles, plastic cups, floorboard trash, dirty diapers, and emptying ashtrays had to stop. Anyone from that era remembers the public service commercial of an actor in native American costume with a tear rolling down his cheek as he surveyed a landscape of garbage. Public trash cans were installed overnight across the nation. Litter bugs faced heavy fines. Sort of a national code of conduct reminding us not to shit in our own living room.

Pat Nixon and Betty Ford. Best remembered for their drug and alcohol abuse, with Betty's clinic for other upper crusty folks who couldn't attend plain old court ordered AA meetings after a hard day's work. Thanks to Pat and Betty's openess, prescription addiction and alcoholism became a useful "disease," with revolving door rehab centers sprouting like mushrooms on horse manure. Got an addiction problem? It's not a character defect or problem of will, it's a disease. Baffling how this "disease" goes undiagnosed, the sufferer buzzing along high as a March kite for decades, most often only announcing their "disease" when caught at it, soiling themselves at dinner, waking up in vomit, or hitting bottom once too often with no one left to pick them up. One of those diseases manifested from boredom and self-absorption until a person no longer has resources to indulge the habit. Those "not sick as long as I can get away with it" diseases. Thanks to Pat and Betty's famous addictions we entered the era of addiction diseases; sex, gambling, food, shopping, public swearing, anything we got caught at was an uncontrollable hereditary tic. Not-my-fault genetics. (If you're a poor nonwhite drunk junkie, then it's still character, will, and choices of course.)

But Nancy had the simplest cure-all. Just Say No. She was targeting youth and illegal drugs and should have included saying no to government endorsed slowdown, make-me-pay-attention drugs, but she didn't. Perhaps it wasn't in the astrology chart or relayed by her psychic. Practicing the occult was okay for the rightwing's hero Ronnie although no one has assured us it was Ron and Nancy's following the concept of planetary synchronization of Magi astrology that whupped the evil empire of communism. Oh well. That may be why the Reagans rarely attended church; too busy consulting soothsayers like Ms. Cleo and the ouija board for mystical insight. The star-based faith of the Reagans, after guiding the nation for 8 years, has fallen a little out of fad, now no more than telephotainment by charlatans. But the worst thing I saw from Nancy is her performance at Ronnie's coffin. Her feeble hand patting the box as she peeked up every few seconds into the camera, to ascertain her prostrated sorrow was being captured for world history. It was then that I understood fully why I always wanted to slap the phony bitch.

Next, Babs Mom Bush. More suitable as captain of the guard in a supermax male prison, selling contraband and the "new fish" to hardened cons who live in fear of Babs the Ball-Breaker. Having birthed 4 criminals George, Jeb, Neil, Marvin would make her eligible for the Ma Barker Gangster award. During her tenancy in the WH she was often mistaken as GHW's mother rather than his wife. Babs remarked on ABC's Good Morning America on March 18, 2003, regarding the buildup to Iraq War and it's coverage - "Why should we hear about body bags and deaths," she said. "Oh, I mean, it's not relevant. So why should I waste my beautiful mind on something like that?" The beautiful mind, and the receptacle for the seed that gave us Boy George, and most likely to foist another thug son on us, should have her hooves checked; they may be cloven.

Hillary. What can I say. Probably the first highly intelligent female to ever hold the title of First Lady. I believe it very likely she moved into the WH with the belief she could change things for we the people. She learned very quickly politics isn't really the voice of the people, that's just the rhetoric of it. Having her idealistic bubble popped in middle-age hardened her into a politician equal to and surpassing many male counterparts on the hill. She now can out lie, outmaneuver, and out kiss AIPAC's ass better than anyone. She may "stand by her man" but at this point in the game she'd stand by or on anyone to get where she's going, which is just another entry in the history book, now that she genuinely understands making progressive change isn't how government works. All that callus in process just for another footnote. Well, at least she isn't breathy voice, eternally shopping, drunken, or heaving a big dominatrix bosom over a mob of sons for us.

Ms. Laura Fake Bush. Another phony lady with MSM telling us she's a class act. But she's really a bourgeoise social climber who saw opportunity to join in the Bush dynasty before it was a dynasty, just oil men. She entered the WH as the mousy frumpy soured Cinderella but looks much better these days now that image consultants have had their way with her. She put down her marguerita and can be seen traveling at our expense for photo-ops at tourist attractions in the Middle East. As the puppetmeisters are aware that George turns the stomach of the majority, Ms. Laura for the second presidential term has been primped, slimmed, polished, and presented as a real lady. Tentatively put forth as an emissary for Mr. Bush who is often busy with his other wife, Ms. Rice, who unfortunately chased away the image makers who would undo her do, a flat helmet hairstyle worn in the 1960s as I too had one, see above photo. Laura does her mother-in-law proud though, for once she leaves the WH, her girth will widen, her color fade, and her matronly bosom will loom over Boy George just like Mama Babs used to do. George will owe Pickles big time for the 8 years she pretended to be his lassie act.

I haven't forgotten Rosalynn Carter, but saved her for last. She's probably the only first lady in modern times to be honest, humane, and humble. Soft-spoken without being breathless, upfront without being a bulldozer. She was modest, not pretentious. If there was a lady in the WH during our time, Rosalynn is the only viable candidate. And apparently, sober.