|
|||||||||||
 |
|||||||||||
I resented the responsibility of aristocracy. My Ivy League buddies were headed for LA, London, Paris--where where they would continue our college life of unrestricted debauchery on a whole new level. But with a Dad in Congress and Granddad in the Senate--I was headed for Texas, for a life of very restricted debauchery. All eyes were on me. I had never understood the whole "noblesse oblige" thing, and now it was really starting to piss me off. Why was my family so obsessed with this public service crap? Why couldn't we just go for the money and stay out of sight like all the other rich people? All my anger melted away, though, when that check came out.
Then he slipped his hand into his suit pocket and out came a check for $17,000. That was a lot back in 1968 for most people, but for us it was just a crumb. Nevertheless, it was the first crumb that was all mine. It was a tease; the message was, "There's so, so much more where this comes from. Just come to us, do your duty to the family and it will all be yours." I guess the pay-off was the catalyst, but suddenly I started to believe the bullshit story I had been telling friends about actually wanting to join the Guard and fly jets. I got goose bumps, feeling the presence of generations of ancestor Bushes and Walkers who had all sacrificed for greatness, for the family--for America--in every war this country has ever fought. I decided then that I would prove myself, just like Dad did, flying fighters, serving the people, RISKING MY LIFE...but in Texas??? What kind of fraud was I? Guys my age were dying in swamps in Vietnam, and I'd be defending the COAST OF TEXAS??? Secretly, I resolved to surprise Dad by volunteering for Vietnam. He had scheduled me an appointment at Westover Air Force base for the next day. Some contacts of his there were to get me into the Guard and into a special pilot training program normally reserved for regular Air Force guys. But tomorrow, I would tell them I needed no special favors...that I was finally, truly following in my father's footsteps...that I would finally prove my courage, and my worthiness of holding the Bush name. Shaking a bit, I tucked the check into my pocket and snatched another martini from a passing waiter's tray. Tomorrow would be the most important day of my life.WHAT!?! Is W really going to the War??? Or is this just a moment of idealistic, and irrational zeal induced by a $17,000 adrenaline rush? Tune in tomorrow and FIND OUT! Please email suggestions--or full episodes--to lostyears@gwbush.com. If I use your episode, you get a by-line. If I get a bunch, I'll start posting good ones on a separate page. It would be fun to have a few different plot lines unfolding at the same time. |
|
||||||||||
|
|
|||||||||||
|
CONTACT
INFO:
gwbush.com The other guy: AllGore.com, AlBore.com, NoGore.org, Algore-2000.org, GoreWatch.net
Other
Political sites: SEND IN MORE LINKS!
|
News
sites on Bush: Other
Bush Parodies or Informative sites: Drug
War links: |
||||||||||
| Also by the creator of this Web site: | |||||||||||
 |
|||||||||||
It
was a perfect Spring day for a graduation. After the cermony we
all stood around in our robes under billowy tents on campus, nibbling
hors d'oeuvres and sipping martinis. Dad patted me on the back,
congratulating me, chuckling because he knew I hadn't done a bit
of work. 
For
more info on the ad campaign 