Bill can’t shut up

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As much as Bill’s heart is in the right place, I’ve come to the conclusion that he just can’t shut up. He doesn’t know when to stop talking.

Power does that to a person. Besides that, he can’t remember one day to the next what he said the day before. Most politicians have that problem.

Now I have the whole African-American community pissed at me because of what Bill said about Barack Obama. Never mind that it was all true.

First black President, my eye. Bill is a politician. They will say anything to get elected.

I should know.

Larry King really is alive

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Honestly, I thought Larry King died sometime last year. Someone died. I know because I went to the funeral. I thought it was Larry King.

Anyway, Maggie set me up for an interview on Larry King Live. I figured there would be a guest host handling the interview, just so CNN could play re-runs of Larry’s old interviews. Nope, it was Larry himself.

Somewhere in Las Vegas is a wax museum with Larry King and other celebrities. The real Larry King doesn’t look as good as the waxed Larry King.

The interview was a good chance for me to explain my policies and compare and contrast my candidacy for President with Barack Obama. 

Larry King just sat there and asked questions. He doesn’t make up the questions. His staff kept sliding a sheet of questions in front of him during each commercial break. Then he would sit there asking the questions like he was thinking. It was like answering questions from a wax man.

Larry King is alive, but not by much.

Regardless of margin, a win is a win

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The vote in Pennsylvania is drawing near. I’m relieved. I know I will win the primary, which means another big state loss for Barack Obama. It will be close, but if I win by only a single vote, then I still win. That’s what counts.

I’m being outspent by Obama’s full treasure chest of campaign money, two or three to one. I didn’t know black people had that much disposable income available after seven years of George W. Bush tyranny. Still, I manage to find a way to win.

But what if I lose in Pennsylvania? Mark Penn asked me that question last week and I fired his ass.

I don’t like negative people.

Watching Bill Work

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Almost nobody has noticed but Bill Clinton is working very hard these days. And he’s not getting paid for it. At least, I’m not going to pay him.

Primary elections in three big states are coming soon and Bill can do three rallies in each state, each day. First, Indiana, then North Carolina, and back to Pennsylvania before the evening news. He does this non-stop, everyday.

Why does Bill work so hard for my campaign this year, harder than he worked for his own re-election in 1996? 

He owes me. He owes me big time, and he knows it. He also knows I will make a better President, and that’s saying something. Bill was pretty good. He also knows that the country is headed for disaster if John McCain is elected.

Finally, Bill knows that if Barack Obama becomes President then the country will forget the Clintons, and we can’t let that happen. Bill has a view of the world that’s much more pragmatic than political pundits suspect.

For example, we had to play defense for much of Bill’s presidency because Republicans owned the legislative branch. It’s a miracle that we accomplished anything at all, especially a balanced budget. If Barack Obama wins the White House he is likely to have a majority in congress, both houses. That’s a mandate to sweeping reform and we know Obama can do it and probably will have the political muscle to do it.

Bill and I are working so hard so that we can write the future, not Obama or McCain.

What’s $100-million between friends?

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We live in a society that rewards risk takers, yet when the risks are taken and the rewards are handed out, some people become outraged. Bill and I are duly surprised at the reaction to our income tax returns.

So what if we made a $100-million over the past few years. We earned it. We deserved it. It’s ours. Why does it upset people that we’ve become rich? Do they know what it’s like to have a husband like Bill? He earned most of the money, but I deserve to spend it.

The backlash has become disastrous to my campaign for President. Once it became public knowledge that we earned so much money as private citizens, then the campaign donations began to dry up. It’s crazy. It’s my money, not the campaign’s money. Even staffers, especially those volunteers who work for little or nothing, have begun to criticize me and doubt my campaign promises.

I need the money. I have a lot of expenses.

I never quit. Never!

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It’s been along and grueling campaign for President, with many twists and turns, ups and downs. Only now are people, the voters, beginning to realize something about me that the media and political pundits just haven’t figured out.

I never quit. Never.

A course may change, a challenge vanquished, but I never quit no matter how long and hard the struggle. If there’s anything I’ve learned in lifetime of public office, whether in Arkansas, the White House, or in the Senate, you never let ‘em see you sweat, and you never quit.

I may lose, but I never quit.

I know what it’s like to stumble. I know what it means to get knocked down, but I’ve never stayed down. I never will.

“A warm bucket of spit.”

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John Nance Garner once said the Vice President’s job wasn’t worth a warm bucket of spit. I’m not so sure about that.

As Barack Obama inches closer to the Democratic nomination for President, I have to think about the future. A black man, an African-American in the White House may present some unexpected opportunities.

After all, his health care agenda is my health care agenda. Obama is pro labor. I’m pro labor. He wants us out of Iraq. I want us out of Iraq. Besides the prestige, travel benefits, and influence in the Senate, there is much that a woman Vice President can do for the country.

Even better is that whole ‘heartbeat’ thing. Yes, Obama is a young man, but as I understand it, rightwingers are good shots.

I need to remember not to stand too close when he gives a speech.

In Pennsylvania, it’s the stupid economy, stupid.

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Maggie walked in to my office today and told me to shut up. Just like that. No warning. No provocation. Just, “Hillary, shut up.”

I said, “Maggie, did I insult you in some way? If so, I apologize for how you feel. I know that being a black woman, uh, um, an African-American woman of girth, can cause emotional turmoil, but you know I’m here for you.”

Besides Bill, I’m the only one who can suck up to Maggie. Everyone else on the staff just cowers and slinks away when she gives them ‘that look.’

No, Mrs. Clinton,” Maggie responded, furrowing her eyebrows down as if I’m about to get ‘that look’ but without actually closing her eyes together, “Just plain shut up. Stop ragging on Barack Obama. People don’t like it.”

I knew she had an agenda and I knew I had to listen. “Alright, Maggie. What do you suggest?

Bill is right,” she said. “It’s the stupid economy. The last big effort of this campaign needs to focus on the economy, particularly the economy in Pennsylvania. Nothing else. If you win big there and pick up a couple of more states….

I grinned. We all know that Bill thinks the economy is the top issue for the rest of the year. Everyone already hates the war. They know I hate Barack Obama. What’s left? The economy. Maggie is right. She’s always right.

The lipstick on Bill’s collar

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If there is one thing a woman knows, it’s her lipstick color. When a wife finds unknown lipstick on her husband’s shirt collar, it raises eyebrows. Mine are raised.

I haven’t put an iron to a shirt in about 25 years or so, and wouldn’t know how to turn on my washer unless Martha Stewart helped me. But I know my way around a shirt collar. This weekend I saw one of Bill’s shirts before it went to the laundry and the collar was smudged with a shade of lipstick that doesn’t belong to me.

I know better than to confront him about such issues. After all, Bill has women crawling all over him, and it’s always been that way. There was a time when I crawled all over him, too, but these days I’m more patient. And tired. And he says I’m too heavy.

Today I decided to make an issue of the lipstick. It was an orange color, lighter than my shades. I left the shirt on the table in the dining room. Bill and Chelsea were due home for lunch in a couple of hours. That gave me time to think about other instances of lipstick smudges I found through the years. That made my blood begin to boil so I knew the day wouldn’t be a good one.

Update - Chelsea came home with Bill and saw the shirt. She apologized for getting her lipstick on her dad’s collar. Chelsea said it would come out with a touch of denatured alcohol and a little dishwashing detergent. I asked her where she learned such household hits.

From dad,” she said, and winked.

The city of brotherly love, brother

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I love it when African-American men stand up for what is right and good and decent in this country. That’s why Michael Nutter, Philadelphia’s courageous new mayor, has a “Hillary” sticker on his car. He’s a really ‘Penn Pal.’

Michael is also something of a character and a gifted conversationalist, if not a little out of touch with reality. True, he thinks I have the best chance to win against John McCain in the November general election, but his math is faulty. Or, his ego overshadows Pennsylvania’s prominence in the elections. I don’t know how he plans to do it, but Michael thinks he can give me Philadelphia’s large African-American vote.

His math doesn’t work for me. So far, over 80-percent of all African-American’s have voted for Barack Obama, and less than 20-percent for me.

Michael says, “This notion that somehow there is a monolithic black vote is just a myth.” Maybe yes, maybe no, but so far they’ve voted as rather solid block of voters. Against me.

It’s probably a good thing that most blacks aren’t Catholic.

Copyright © 2007-2008 PanGeo Media, Honolulu, HI USA. All Rights Reserved.
Diary excerpts published and edited by Ron McElfresh, Honolulu, HI USA.
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