The Perfect Song Blog

Standing in line at Tops, the tabloid headline blared:  “Bigfoot Diet, Loses 150 Pounds.”

I weigh 149 pounds. Losing that much would shrink me to a cell, but I was interested.  If Bigfoot can do it, why can’t the rest of America, 66% of whom are overweight?  Bigfoot should be an inspiration to us all.

Through the miracles of technology, I tracked down Bigfoot’s cell phone and lined up an interview.

“So Bigfoot — can I call you BF?”

“Sure.  People have called me worse.”

“What’s this new diet you’re on and, I guess, why?  I mean you’re a pretty free spirit.  People occasionally report a sighting on you, but for the most part, you’re just out there in nature, skulking.”

“Well, Dennis, the world has been closing in.  What with cell phone cameras, video and that infernal Twitter, I just don’t have that much privacy anymore.”

“But the diet, the weight loss.”

BF paused.  “When the world’s eyes are on you, you’ve got to look your best.  I finally gave in and hired a PR firm.  First thing they said was, ‘you got to get rid of the gut.  Being big and hairy is one thing.  Being big and hairy and fat doesn’t is so uncool.’  So I went on a regimen to lose 150 pounds.”

“Going from 800 pounds to 650 is pretty impressive.  The drawings of you look great. You’ve got a barrel chest, huge shoulders and biceps–”

“Thank you.  The drawings are pretty accurate by the way.”

“So are you going to lose the hair, too?”

“No!  The hair is part of my heritage.  Besides, I watched The 40-Year Old Virgin.  Did you see that scene where they put tape on Steve Carrell’s tummy and ripped his hair off?  No way am I going through that.  Besides, I’ve got an image to uphold.  I’ll lose the gut but the hair stays.  Actually I think hair is the next bald, you know?  I’ve been around awhile, and I can tell you, women like hair.  Especially big hairy women.  All this bald shit is for reptiles,”

“If I wore a t-shirt it would say ‘Mammals Love Hair.’”

“Speaking of t-shirts,” I said, “I see you’re wearing a breech cloth to cover your privates.”

There was a pause.  “Yeah.  That was the PR firm again.  Said if I was going to be on the cover of Weekly World News I had to hide Winky.  It’s in the grocery stores, you know, the newspaper, I mean.”

I pressed on.  “But in all the photos and videos caught of you, there are no clothes.”

“Yeah, well, and my back is always to the camera.”  There was a slight silence as he pondered this.  “I think the real thing is male insecurity, you know?  Now that I’m slimmed down to 650 pounds, Winky looks a lot more impressive than he did when he was stunted by my gut.  I’m not into size issues, but, look, I know the more women fantasize, the more men get shaky.  Men are so insecure. . . . . ”

“So what’s your next step now that you’re slim and have gone public?”

“Well,” he said quietly.  “I’d like to go on Dancing with the Stars.  I’ve got a pretty good routine called In Step with Big Foot.“  He chuckled to himself.  “There’s a good double entendre there.  Get it?”

There was another pause as if he were considering how much to divulge. “A couple football teams have approached me but, honestly, I don’t like the sport.  Too violent.  Oh, and my agent is working with Hollywood to develop feature length movie, “Big Steps to Glory.”

“Wow, you’ve really come out,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said enthusiastically.  I really have. . . . And I love public service.  I’m doing some consulting with the Boy Scouts right now, developing a program in outdoor recreation.  And of course there’s the upcoming book The Bigfoot All Natural Diet.  It’s a big change from the painfully shy guy I used to be.”

“That’s great, Big Foot,” I said.  “I’m sure it took a lot of courage to do the diet, put on some clothes and move out into society the way you have.”

“Yes,” he said quietly.  “My Mom is pretty proud.”

Dear President Obama, I think you are doing a very good job.

As you said on the campaign trail, as president you would make mistakes.  You’re not perfect, you said.  You’re human.

That’s all true, of course.

But many, many millions of children and youth in the United States and around the world idolize you.  You are bigger than life.  To millions you are a super hero.

You are a role model.

So don’t fib.

If you bowed to a king, own up to it.  Tell people it was a sign of respect.  You’ve talked a lot about respecting other countries and other people and most folks agree.

If it was out of place, then say “I made a mistake.”  You’ve done that before and won overwhelming respect for the admission.

Now, when your people say you weren’t bowing, it opens the door to critics to lash out at you.  It brings others to defend you and what suffers the most is the truth.

When I was a kid, Superman could do no wrong.

Today’s young people are more sophisticated.  They know super heroes are flawed, and their flaws are what keep them human.  But more important than their unique powers is that they own up to their mistakes.  If they can’t correct them, they at least admit to them.

If your bow was done out of sincerity and respect, say so. The bow isn’t important except to mean-minded, frightened people who are terrible role models.

What is important to the next generation is the action that followed the bow. Do what’s right in your heart.

Then tell the truth.

Don’t fib and don’t let others fib for you.

Thank you, Mr. President.

I think I was working out when I felt the earth move.  Not in the sense that Hemingway meant it.  It was more like a quiet catch of cosmological breath.

Whoosh.  And it was gone.  After my work out I went to the Web to see if I could find out what happened.  I found it immediately.

Michele Obama touched the Queen of England.

Touched her!  Don’t let the off-the-Richter-scale-significance of this pass by you.  The world has revolved for hundreds of years with a royal hands-off policy.  With one slow, gentle sweep of the hand, Michele Obama changed all that.  She put her arm around the queen’s back as if the queen were a person!

Many reporters and commentators asked (and I think sincerely) what the world was coming to.  Here’s Anderson Cooper trying to get at the bottom of all this.

Actually I find a First Lady treating a queen like a person pretty refreshing.

This act has solidified Michele Obama as an international star, an icon, more popular than Madonna.  On the international stage she’s more popular than her husband. Even CNN’s Jack Cafferty asked asked what’s behind her rocket to international stardom.

For a moment it all this helps you forget that people are dying courtesy of genocide, the fact that we’re still in Iraq and the economy’s lower than a snail’s belly in a sand pit.

That’s okay.  God knows we need good news.  I like the image of a  First Lady working the soil to plant a garden in the White House.  I nod at the picture of her ladling out food in a soup kitchen for the homeless.  I stop for a moment to wonder why the guy in line is taking a picture of her with his cell phone.  If he’s homeless how does he have a cell phone and where does his carrier send the monthly bill?

Maybe he “borrowed” it for the occasion.  Hey, how many times is a homeless guy going to get served a meal by the First Lady?

Anyway, Mrs. Obama’s royal touch made her queen for a day.  When the English get their composure back we can move on and wait for the next news making move from the First Lady.

Bottom line is that it’s better for all of us to watch Michele and the queen in a touching moment than watching a president duck flying shoes.