Sister Sarah's Ride

Listen my children to an old man’s wailin’
Of the cross-country ride of Sarah Palin.
In two thousand eleven, ‘round the first of June;
Nary a person will forget too soon
Her account of history as her bus goes salin’.

She said to her family, “Let’s get on the bus
And roll ‘cross the country for Liberty,
Paint my name on the side so they’ll all see us
Holdin’ that paper with “The people we.”
Honk once if by highway, two if by net
I’ll look through the window shouting “You bet!”
We’ll look to the heavens and act so surprised
When the lamestream media catches our eyes,
The country folk will still hear it, knowing I’m wise.”

Then she said ‘You Betcha!” and with a muffled roar
The gawdy bus rolled up near the Seabrook Shore.
Just as Mitt Romney was announcing his run,
She stood ‘fore the cameras in the New Hampshire sun,
And spoke, changing history forever more.
T’was gun control was the redcoats’ aim
And the media here had gotten so lame
That the things they had told us way back in school
Was the reason those Liberals were such fools.

Mr. Longfellow, can you ever forgive me?

Why is it that the media can’t leave Sarah Palin alone? Here she is on a nice little donation-supported family vacation, touring the country in a huge bus, wrapped in the American flag and the Declaration of Independence; with her signature painted on the sides in giant letters – you know, incognito – and, still they follow her around asking her the hardball questions. It just doesn’t seem fair, really.

Sister Sarah wasn’t even born until 1964 – way up in Idaho – and was only a baby when her family moved to the country of Alaska. It is absurd, really, that anybody would expect her to know all the intricate little details of American history. It’s those “gotcha” questions, like “Who was Paul Revere?” that have led to her disdain for the lamestream media. And, can we blame her?

It has been a long time. Even most of us who were fans of Mr. Revere couldn’t, on the spur of the moment, recite all the words to “Kicks,” which, in my humble opinion, was the best song they ever did. Oh, sure, there was “Indian Reservation,” aka “Cherokee People,” but, now that we look at it through the tea-colored lenses of history, that was a rather subversive, anti-American song, and Sarah should be applauded for not remembering it.

Even if the good sister would have been born, say, ten years earlier, it would have likely been Mark Lindsay, the heartthrob, she recalled, and not Paul Revere, himself. Such is the nature of history; and if they weren’t so consumed with their desire to mislead the public into the misconception that Sarah is some kind of airhead political celebrity, these pointy-headed elitists in the press would realize this! They’re not so smart. I bet you could take any of them; show them pictures of the bands; and ask “Which one is Jethro Tull?” or “Which one is Lynyrd Skynyrd?” and over half of them would pick the wrong guy in each band.

What I’m trying to say is, sure, rock ‘n roll history is important, and knowledge of it should be considered as part of the qualification for the office of President, but there comes a time when we have to let the really old stuff go. If this attack mode of the press isn’t stopped, sooner or later they’ll start asking questions about Chuck Berry. Do we really want our presidential candidates on TV, easily accessed by our young, impressionable children, reciting the lyrics to “My Ding-a-Ling”?


© 2011, Rick Baber