My "So Long, Sarah" Shaggy Dog

Well, here 'tis!

I promised myself (and you, valued reader) that I would try to do my best to scribble down one, final Shaggy Dog featuring one of the truly All-Time Well-Springs of Political Humor, the one and only Sarah Palin.

Ms. Palin, the darling of the Tea Party Movement and the Conservative Party, as we now know, barnstormed the country last summer in her bus to test the waters for a run for at White House in 2012. I guess whatever she learned on her trip convinced Sarah that she was unelectable.

Fear not!  We, as full-blooded Americans, will have unparallelled opportunities to find some Yucks in an assortment of GOP candidates who are bound-and-determined to retire Barack next November.

Pay attention to Ron Paul: he just might be the funniest but most dangerous man in America!

Let's get back to Ms. Palin...

As everybody west of the Atlantic and east of the Pacific knows, a "Shaggy Dog" is a long and corny joke. In my labors, I decided to include a Kangaroo, a Duck, and a Penguin in every Sarah Shaggy for the simple reason that, by their nature, penguins, kangaroos, and ducks lend themselves well to humor.

Loyal readers will recall that I have written several "Sarah Shaggies" thus far but for one reason, or another, my previous efforts have fallen just a bit short (in my estimation). For weeks now, I have mulled over what you are about to read in hope that I have -- finally -- generated a worthwhile Shaggy.

NOTE TO FOUR FINGER WU: "Doonesbury" and David Letterman might have peed on their bushes in cornering the Sarah Palin Mirth Market, but neither has come close to the style & theme I am about to share.

(I'm also just about to employ one word from the English Language for the first time in my career.)

Herewith, my final-final "Sarah Palin Shaggy Dog"...

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Whilst roaming the wilds the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge hunting musk oxen in order to clear her head after dropping out of the Presidential Contest, Sarah Palin came upon a heretofore unknown subspecies of Mankind.

As she stalked a herd of Musk Ox, getting within 300 yards for a clear shot at the Bull Male, Mrs. Palin suddenly released her finger's grip from the trigger of her Winchester 30.06 when she detected several humanoids, Cave Man-like in appearance, carrying spears and clubs, mingling among the herd. This tribe evidently eluded detection from ground and air by cladding themselves in Musk Ox headpieces and full skins, thus blending in, imperceptibly, with the herd.

After observing them for some time, it occurred to Sarah that she discovered a new Breed of Man, which she named the Musk Ox People.

If and when she made up her mind to rejoin civilization, Sarah promised herself to contact the National Geographic Society, the Smithsonian Institution, and the Yale Department of Anthropology, to report her discovery.

Meanwhile, she decided to work her way towards the Musk Ox People with extreme caution, in order to learn what she could about their habits and behavior.

To Mrs. Palin's utter delight and surprise, the Musk Ox People welcomed her with open arms. After she got adjusted to the particular set of odors that wafted through thie tribe, Sarah noted that they grunted in a form of rudimentary language, that they had the ability to herd the oxen with great skill, and that they were accomplished hunters and gatherers.

She also perceived that they practiced a peculiar form of religion which manifested itself in several primitive rituals -- most of which were quite sexual in nature.

In return for their willingness to share the fullness of their culture with Sarah, she introduced them to the Mystery of Fire.

So it came to pass that, after wandering around ANWR with the Musk Ox People for about a month, it occurred to Sarah that -- in addition to discovering a new Race of People -- she had found a pocket of about 300 new citizens of the Great State of Alaska, in other words, a pocket of voters who could prove to be instrumental in deciding a close election.

With this realization, Sarah bid the Musk Ox People a "Fond Adieu."

She then headed back to Moose Jaw, by foot, and en route, she decided to capitalize on her discovery by throwing her support to Newt Gingrich and pledging a new bloc of 300 new voters -- the Musk Ox People -- to the Gingrich campaign.

In a masterstroke of Good Luck, Sarah recalled that the Penguin, the Duck, and the Kangaroo had all moved over to the Gingrich Campaign after she dropped out of contention.

Sarah's strategy contained a few elements of political beauty: as a former House Speaker, Newt had the authority to administer the Oath of Citizenship to the Musk Ox People; as former governor of Alaska, Sarah could register them to -- plus and influence them to sign on as Republicans; and, finally, as a political Campaign Event, the uniqueness of these circumstances would most certainly guarantee the widest possible coverage in the Press.

What with Romney, Paul, Santorum, Scott, Huntsman, Bachmann, and a host of other lesser-known GOP candidates qualifying for the Alaskan GOP Primary Ballot, one didn't need to slap Sarah upside the head twice for her to realize that 300 votes could make a significant difference in the primary's outcome.

So, in return for delivering the Musk Ox People's vote, Sarah would ask Newt to name her as the next U.S. Ambassador to Switzerland in the event that Gingrich whips Obama in the next General Election.

Arriving back in Moose Jaw, Sarah put everything into motion: she had little trouble selling her scheme to Newt -- who immediately assigned the Kangaroo, the Duck, and the Penguin back to Alaska, to help Palin work out the polemics and the minutiae.

As everything turned out, and within a matter of weeks, the Palin team pulled it all together: the Duck supervised the erection of the scaffolding and the placement of bunting exactly as the site where the Musk Ox People encamped; the Penguin made sure credentials were issued to more than 3,000 members of the world's Press contingent and that the satellite links worked; the Kangaroo handled all the stage sound checks personally; and all that was left to do was to have Mrs. Palin accompany Newt, by chopper, to this rather unique "Gingrich For President Rally" in ANWR.

The appointed day arrived. Newt and Sarah arrived at the Musk Ox People' camp right on-time. It took Gingrich exactly two minutes to make them all new U.S. Citizens, and it took less than five minutes for the Alaskan GOP Machine to begin the process of registering them as voting Republicans.

When these formalities concluded, and after the Musk Ox People and their herd of gnarly, woolly animals gathered in front of the speaking platform, Newt took the microphone at center stage.

"Fellow Americans," Newt began.

"I am honored to have this opportunity today, to seek your support and your votes as we lead up to the most important election in US history," Newt continued.

As he concluded the first sentence of his speech, the Musk Ox People suddenly began whooping it up, spinning in circles like Dervishes, pounding their spears and clubs on the ground, and yelling "Bah-Zoogah! Bah-Zoogah!" at the top of their lungs.

Encouraged by this outburst, Newt decided to toss away his prepared remarks and lay it on thick from the heart.

"If you elect me as your next president, I promise that every one of you will finally have a home of your own, your children will benefit from a free, quality education, that you all will have affordable health care provided by the Private Sector, and that America's energy security will be guaranteed by the oil and gas lying beneath you right here in ANWR, and that each and every one of you will receive $5,000 per year from the energy revenues derived from ANWR's oil and gas exploration. If you invest wisely, you will all be millionaires in less than 10 years," he orated.

Again, the Musk Ox People whooped it up, yelling "Bah-Zoogah! Bah-Zoogah!" every time Newt paused in his speech.

And so it went for a half hour -- the Kangaroo calculated that Newt's speech was interrupted at least 40 times by the Musk Ox People chanting "Bah-Zoogah! Bah-Zoogah!"

When Gingrich finished, Sarah Palin joined him on-stage where they joined raised hands in victory. Meanwhile, the Kangaroo decided to find the Chief of the Musk Ox People within the crowd, to ascertain how effective Newt's speech really was.

The Kangaroo approached the largest and smelliest among the Musk Ox People, figuring -- correctly as it turned out -- that such an individual would be the chief.

So the Kangaroo turns to the Leader, and asks: "What did you think of Mr. Gingrich's speech?"

To which the Chief responded: " I thought it was pretty good -- but he said nothing new."

"By the way," the Chief said, pointing to a pile of steaming Musk Ox Dung stacked a foot high on the tundra right next to the Kangaroo's left foot:

Said the Chief: "Don't step in the Bah-Zoogah."

So there you have it.

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My New Year's Resolution for 2012?

No more Sarah Palin -- or other -- Shaggy Dogs!

Have a Happy, Safe, Prosperous, and Healthy New Year!

Bon Voyage 2011! A Few Notes...

I can't believe that I allowed more than four months to elapse since my last posting -- which was, in fact, a mail-in'er since I wasn't feeling too well back in those times.

Sooo...

I'll use this opportunity to update y'all on matters of health and other factors that have affected your humble scribe since the mid-summer.

First and foremost, I want to thank everyone for their kind thoughts and best wishes as I worked myself through a rather extensive period of convalescence. As you may or may not know, I have been fighting a battle against non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma for over two years.

Chemotherapy over time put the NHL into full remission but the consequences of checking the cancer wracked havoc upon my body's bone marrow and its immune system. To put my situation in another way, my body presently lacks the abilities to fight off the "bugs" and germs that have little to no effect upon folks with healthier immune systems.

In this crazy, Whack-A-Mole World of Cancer, I can't even afford to nick myself when I shave due to the fact that my platelet levels are so low.

Dig it:

Back in early November, I suffered through a sinus infection ( directly related to what was finally diagnosed at Dartmouth as a fungal/mold lung invasion) that caused me to endure excessive sinus and nasal bleeding.

Platelets manufactured in the bone marrow would normally rush to the point of bleeding, but not in my case. I swear on a stack of Bibles that I must have lost two pints of blood through my nose.

My platelet count dropped from 28 to 12 in less than two weeks and it took four infusions of platelets to drive my levels back up into the high 20s. That number, by the way, is less than one-half the platelet count level within a person in good health.

Secondly, Carol and I decided to sell the Vermont property. Tropical Storm Irene taught the two of us that we are no longer Spring Chickens when it comes down to preparing mountainous terrain for an Alpaca Farm. I won't wear you out with the full details, but please know this: Irene Kicked My Ass so badly that I was hospitalized at Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center for 12 days after the storm hit.

Since Rochester Vermont was virtually isolated from the World for weeks after Irene struck, Carol and I went back to our place in Florida, ostensibly where I could find some peace and quiet and to rid myself of the elephant that seemed to be sitting on my chest.

The doctors in Vermont and Florida were convinced that my breathing problems were being caused by "Community Pneumonia", so they prescribed treatments as though I was fighting a viral infection.

But my medical team over at Dartmouth wasn't sold on this: they ordered up a few tests to extract mucous and other fluids from my longs, then sent the gooey stuff  off to the cytology lab for analysis / diagnosis.

Problem was: results wouldn't be known for six to eight weeks.

I guess my Dartmouth Docs decided to treat my condition as a fungal infection -- since the medications for viruses and bacteria prescribed by the Vermont and Florida docs weren't working anyway.

Two days into taking the meds designed to fight fungal infections, I felt significant improvement in my ability to breath.

Thirdly, Carol and I are now living in Unity, New Hampshire, pop: 619. We have a lovely 10-room house surrounded by by seven rolling and meadowed acres -- this is property that will be ideal for raising our alpacas.

We chose Unity because it's about 25 miles from the Dartmouth-Hitchcock / Norris Cotton Cancer Center. At this critical stage of my care and treatment, it made sense to relocate so that I can be closer to the best cancer treatment experts in the business.

If you'll recall, my care in being spear-headed by Dr. Elizabeth Bengston and her colleague, Dr. Trevor Bayless -- the Buckeye (Elizabeth) and the Eph (Trevor.) I am honored to report that Dr. Kenneth Meehan (Jesuit trained at Fairfield U. and Georgetown Medical) , one of the world's leading experts in bone marrow transplantation, has also taken me on as his patient in the likely event a marrow transplant becomes a viable option at some future point in time.

Finally, I will do my absolute best to deliver on my New Year's Day Promise of 2011 -- to compose the Ultimate Sarah Palin Joke.

Peace, Love, Good Health, Prosperity, and Much Happiness until next time!