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Episode
1 We were somewhere in New Haven around the edge of campus when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like "I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe we should head back to the dorms." Then suddenly, a Volkswagen van, painted rainbow colors, howled by us with beautiful hippy chicks hanging out the windows yelling, "Viva la Revolution!" It was the spring of 1968, we had just finished Yale, and I turned to my buddy and said, "Somehow this doesn't seem like the time to join the secret ruling-class conspiracy." He grinned, seeming to understand. "George," he said, "drugs are cheap...sex is free...this is the beginning of a whole new era in human civilization. The next ten years are going to be one amazing party...don't miss this!" He wanted me to come on some road trip with him to LA or Vegas or something. I told him I was down with the party of the century, but that I needed to be properly situated first. "My trust fund is different from yours...mine has certain strings attached."
"Look man, my Dad's running for Senate right now, and my grandfather was a famous senator, and his father was a powerful admiral, and it goes on like that all the way back to the pilgrims, you know? All eyes are on us, and now there's a war on.... Aw, just forget it, it's a ruling class thing--you wouldn't understand," I said, giving up. "Oh yes, the WAR!" he said, as if I was talking about a long-forgotten missed appointment, "But what's that got to do with us?" I pressed on, "My Dad's running for office...so if I sit the thing out people will cry foul. The bottom line is, if I don't compromise on this, I'll be cut off." "Well what the hell are you going to do? You're not going anywhere near that meat grinder are you?...ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" He started jumping around getting very excited. The uppers were definitely getting the upper hand. I considered breaking out the reds to balance things out a bit, but then I just tried reasoning with him. "No man, listen: I'm going to fly jets in Texas." "Huh?" He was intrigued enough by that to stand still and listen for a second. "I'm going to fly jets man!...freaking SUPERSONIC jets!...in the desert!" "Holy shit! That's beautiful...did you say jets? Are you really talking about jets, though?" He was so moved by what I was saying that he was grabbing me by the neck and shaking me as he asked for confirmation that what he heard was not a drug-induced hallucination. "And I only have to show up on weekends...It'll keep Dad off my back while I spend the rest of the time partying and chasing women, and best of all I get to fly jets!" "Holy shit! Authenticity AND time to party! That's quite a setup Mr. Bush! Jets! That's pretty damn amazing. I gotta admire you for that. Wow, I wonder what a mescaline rush is like when your breaking the sound barrier..." "We'll soon see, my friend! We'll soon see!" Tune in tomorrow when W gets his graduation check for $17,000, a car--and some other supplies--and goes on a mission to sign up for the Guard. 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. |
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"Strings???"
he asked incredulously, as though I was talking nuclear physics
or something. And by this time he was looking a bit lightheaded
himself. 
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