The Last Day

I sometimes wonder what Presidents do on their very last day in office. I imagine they hold informal meetings to thank their loyal, hard-working employees. They likely sign a flurry of last-minute paperwork. And they probably sneak between rooms in the White House, hiding from rich donors who have stormed the building seeking last-minute pardons for friends and family members.

Here’s what I think President Obama should do. If he has a spare hour on that day, he should dedicate it to having a little fun. He should schedule a one-hour trip through D.C. in the Presidential limo. Getting the press to cover it would be no problem – given how hard real journalism is, they’re always hungry for the Now Breaking But Totally Unimportant Story.

Everyone would be expecting some classy, feel-good event where the President stops and makes an uplifting speech. But as the limo rolled around the corner they’d see a lowered car with those small tires that are wide but thin. When the limo came to a stop at a light, spinners attached to the rims would twirl. The big fuzzy dice on the rear-view mirror would swing in the air like a pair of nuts.

The song Lowrider would start pounding into the air, the bass-notes shaking the car. Then the back of the limo would start bouncing in the air. The President would lower the driver’s window and stick his fist out so the cameras could capture the word “PREZ” fake-tattooed across his knuckles. And then he’d punch the gas and squeal away in a cloud of tire smoke.

It’s your last day, so why not have a little fun messing with the racists? It’d be like taunting a pack of clueless kittens with a ball of executive string.

Somewhere in Libertyville, population 400, a guy would be sitting in a dingy tavern filled with stuffed animal heads. He’d stare at the TV, shaking his head. And then he’d look over at his buddy and say “God damnit Jethro, I done tole you that whole suit-and-tie thing was just an act!”