This Week’s
Attitude
By Neil S. Friedman

‘Twas The Christmas Before Election 2004...

The following is a parody of "‘Twas the Night Before Christmas or An Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas," by Major Henry Livingston Jr.
(1748-1828)—previously credited to Clement Clarke Moore.

‘Twas the Christmas before election,
though the Democratic slate

Was still quite muddled, in a very sorry state.

As hopefuls’ campaigns mounted and
moved on with care,

They hoped the next face-off would be
more than fair.

In the meantime Republicans were snug
in their beds,

While visions of 2004 wins danced in their heads.

The First Lady in a nightie, the Prez in a cap,

Had just settled down for a winter night’s nap.

When on the White House lawn
arose quite a clatter,

Dubya sprang from the First Bed to

see to the matter.

To the large window he flew in a flash,
Tore open the curtains and threw up the sash.

He saw the moon shining brightly
over Capitol town

Giving a luster to all the monuments around.

He then did a double take and
couldn’t glance away,

As he spied his Dem opponents
riding a big sleigh.

With a haggard ol’ driver looking meek as a lamb,

He suddenly realized they hired Saddam.

Swifter than eagles his opponents they came,

He whistled and shouted and called
them by name,

"Hey, Dean! Hey, Lieberman!

Braun, Sharpton and Kerry,

Have you stopped by to give me some worry?

‘Cause if you’ve come here tonight to
arrange a debate?

Then dash away, dash away it’ll just
have to wait!"

But after a moment, he heard some more noise,

Making a ruckus like bad little boys.

He listened more closely then turned
right around,

Down the chimney came Hillary with a
leap and a bound.

She was dressed in fake fur from her
head to her foot,

Her Madison Avenue duds all tarnished with soot.

A bundle of goodies she towed in a sack,

And looked like a peddler when she
opened her pack.

Her eyes — how they twinkled —as if she’d

something in mind,

Her intentions, Bush knew, would
not be too kind!

Her thin, little mouth had a sneer like a thief

Bush had a sense she’d cause some mischief.

Then Hil broadly grinned, looking quite intent,

But Bush lacked a clue of what this all meant;

She tore open the sack with a look that was mad,

And shouted to him, "Here’s your Florida chads!"

He giggled and laughed like some jolly old elf,

And stared at her keenly, in spite of himself;

With a wink of an eye and a hint of a gloat,

He told her plainly, "Scram, missy, get
over that vote!"

He then nonchalantly walked back to his bed,

When Hillary screamed, so he turned his head.

She had a surly look when she struck
the next pose,

Then gave him a nod and up the
chimney she rose.

She leapt into the sleigh and gave the
team a whistle,

And away they all flew in an arc like a missile.

Bush heard them exclaim, as they drove
out of sight,

"SEE YOU IN NOVEMBER,

WE’RE GONNA GIVE YOU A FIGHT!"