“Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation”…thus began another chapter in the history of the United States, a country conceived in testosterone and dedicated to the possibility that all boys are created equally (by their mommies).
In the last eight years, this country already suffering from male locker-room overload, has been turned into The Testosterone Nation. Tush and Cheney have so penis-lized this country that women have begun to click their Jimmy Choo high heels together in descent. And, as the world turns, The Pink Brigade is finally showing some eggs. Imagine, a woman is Speaker of the House of Representatives and now Hillary Clinton is running for president of The Testosterone Nation. My eighty-five year old mothers eyes are wide in disbelief, having grown up in a time when men wore the pants in the American family.
Miss Tammy “I’m not” Whine-ette, vying to lead The Testosterone Nation back down its path to glory isn’t like other women, and most certainly never was. Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen was hardly a song she would sing as she politely peeled white potatoes. “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen,” was more Hillary’s tune.
I’ve heard people say that Hillary hatched Chelsea rather than birthed her. And that she was probably standing up when she did on her way to another meeting. “A Mommy Warrior” may best describe this new breed of candidate. But since she voted for the war, but was really against the war, maybe the term Warrior doesn’t exactly SUIT her, anymore than mommy is a word that would be her optimal description. Nevertheless, I like Hillary in all her incarcerations or is it incarNATIONS? Still, I have to ask myself, is Hillary the right woman to be the MAN for the job?
Times are tough out there in The Testosterone Nation. Really, is anything right with America? Our kids are losing their life and limbs in a war that isn’t a war; the charge for a gallon of gasoline is a galling three dollars as the price of a barrel nears one hundred smackeroos; the cost of food is obscene; the crime rate is up; kids earning high school diplomas is down…blah…blah…blah…
What America needs now is a Mommy, a mother to comfort, to guide, nurture, bolster, encourage, and soothe our 9/11-seared nerves. We need someone to pat us on the head and tell us everything is going to be all right and “that we have nothing to fear but fear itself.” What we need is a Franklin Roosevelt in a skirt, yet I fear that Hillary is more Eleanor in pants. But now that I think about it, maybe that isn’t so terrible…sort of a new, New Deal! ~ November 11, 2007
From A YEAR IN MY PAJAMAS WITH PRESIDENT OBAMA , The Politics of Strange Bedfellows by Halli Casser-Jayne