Stop scaring me, Mr. Obama!

emailed to me last night by my acquaintance, Don Perignon:

I’ve come out from underneath the bed just long enough to say: President Obama’s inaugural speech was the scariest thing since Charles Manson!

Don’t get me wrong, I still think this could be one of the greatest American leaders of all time. He has the poise, charisma, intelligence and eloquence of a JFK, or an FDR. But did BHO have to be so tough on us?

If only it would have been what we’re accustomed to, the mediocre sloganeering babble of years past, or an Oscar speech on steroids (“And of course I’d like to thank Hilary Clinton, you’re so very talented, can’t wait to work with you again.”).

But, no, this acceptance speech was so frightening, so bone-chilling, I wouldn’t be surprised if George Romero helped write it. To summarize the plot: “A gang of zombies rampages across America, only they don’t eat flesh, they eat jobs, retirement plans and houses. The plan is to shovel money at them; our scientists don’t think that will kill them, but at least it will buy us some time.”

You’re right, that’s a little over the top. Still . . . This was supposed to be Happy Time! You were supposed to be up there with a smile that could melt glaciers, not hints at global warming nightmare scenarios. You were supposed to tell us we’d worked so hard we could all have the rest of the week off to party, not that we need to roll up our sleeves and start building some infrastructure in our spare time, and no Youtube-ing, either!

It was like W. pulled him aside this morning and said, “You seem like an OK guy, let me tell you what’s REALLY going on in this country . . .” He was so shell-shocked, no wonder he fumbled the swearing in. 

Rather than the World’s Most Charismatic Speaker, poetically grasping the greatest job anyone could ever dream about, I felt like he was already counting his first six or seven losses, like the next Detroit Lions coach.

And what about a little love for us?!! It seemed like he was the new, no-nonsense Principal Barack of USA High, and we were the goof-up senior class that started a big food fight and wrecked the economy. Man, I felt scolded.

And didn’t he say something like, “And as for the Tom Scanlons of this country, you’ve been sneaking along on cruise control for far too long, you’re all staying after class and building bridges!” A cold slice of Reality Pie, served with a scoop of unemployment-flavored ice cream? No thank you!

Call me naïve, but here’s what I was hoping for:

“Thank you . . . Thank you all. And especially those watching at home in the Northwest, for whom I have big, big plans. More on that later, but first let me thank President George W. Bush, or should I say former President George W. Bush? Or should I say ‘was he really President George W. Bush’?

“Anyway, you’ve been absolutely crucial in making this a successful transition, even if you kept saying transtitution. Thank you also, Dick Cheney, so bravely sitting there in the cold in a wheelchair, the victim of a pulled back muscle from trying to lift your ego out of the White House. Ha ha, just kidding, Chains, we love you.

“Most of all, thank you, America. You’ve put up with eight years of working harder and making less, and you’ve had a bunch of hustlers playing three card monte with you retirement plans. Let me tell you the first thing I’m going to do, America (God bless the dearly departed Bernie Mac, by the way): I’m going to round up every banking and financial executive in this country and make them write essays, entitled, ‘Where the Money Went.’

“Now, I have here in my back pocket $350 billon dollars in TARP money, and here’s what I’m going to do with $349 billon if it: If you own a house, you have the option of having your mortgage payment split in half, or the interest reduced to 2 percent. Take your choice. If you don’t own a house, buy one. Interest rates have never been lower. I’m instructing all banks to give first-time home buyers no-money down loans, again at 2 percent interest. Just make sure you can afford the payments, that’s all I’m saying.

“As for those who are out of work, congratulations, you’ve just been hired! While I figure out what to do with you all, just do whatever it is you feel is a constructive way to spend your time, whether it’s painting or blogging or volunteering at a homeless shelter or building a much-needed bridge. You’ll get paid whatever average weekly check you earned at your last job. Eventually, I’m going to need some of you to pitch in, help rebuild the crumbling highways and archaic sewers, and by the way if any of you can help with Alternative Energy, please see me.

“We’ll figure all of this out, folks. We’ve got the time, and we’ve got the money. I mean, what’s another couple hundred billion on the debt? We spent our way into this mess, and we’ll spend our way out. It’s our duty as Americans.

“I’d like to close with two simple ways that I’m going to make America better, maybe in small ways, but immediately. First, the instant replay in football is done. Gone. Forget about it. Call gets made, good or bad, we deal with it and move on.

“Second, remember that billion dollars of TARP money I’m holding back? I’m sending it directly to a little town called Ocean Shores, in the other Washington. Fix your water system, Ocean Shores, give your thirsty citizens pure, clear, sweet-smelling, great-tasting water, just like in the civilized world!

“And if there’s any money left over, buy Tom Scanlon a new violin to play, the old one is wearing out . . .

“As for the rest of you, America, I tell you this and I tell you solemnly and sternly: put your fear away. Get a little box, and put your fear and anxiety and hopelessness in it. And then put that box in the back of a closet, in some dark corner of the basement, or bury it deep in the backyard.

“Fear no more, America, it’s Obama Time!”

Ah, that’s much better . . . Now I can sleep, and not under the bed, either . . .