The first spouse club
IT HAPPENS every four years. We get into fights. We become polarized, looking for the one, true person who will unite us. That's right: it's the race for first spouse.
Well, it's time for a big change. For the next four years, our first spouse is going to talk about one thing, over and over. Maybe it will be "read to your children." Or "listen to your children." Or "just say no to your children." Well, if I have to listen to four years of it, I want to know that platform now. So, I want a new idea. I want us all to pick the first spouse ourselves.
That's right: a simple election. It will take place the day after the presidential vote so we can pick the perfect match. We will be the nation's mother-in-law, choosing the partner we know is really right for our new president.
Imagine the Clinton White House with Barbara Bush instead of Hillary as first lady. Ah, what might have been avoided with that tighter grip on the reins. Imagine Teresa Heinz Kerry with George II; no more months in Crawford. For some presidents we need a Jackie, for some an Eleanor, or a Dolley or a Mamie. Or maybe we need a bachelor in the White House, just for fun. The poor Lincoln bedroom would see more use than when Jefferson lived there alone, but still, it would be awfully entertaining.
Would I vote for Bill for first spouse? Nope. Hillary says Bill will travel the world as a good-will ambassador. Please, Hillary, let the secretary of state see the world. Let Bill raise money for disaster relief. And I'm in no mood for the nattering that's going to go on about Bill's role. I want him to get a job, pick a theme or disappear, like all first ladies and gentlemen before him. Sirimavo Bandaranaike of Sri Lanka? A widow. Golda Meir? Widow. Indira Gandhi? Estranged. Margaret Thatcher? Had a likeable and quiet husband. Angela Merkel? Her husband keeps his day job.
We need some ground rules for first spouse media coverage. Sadly, certain female - yes, female - reporters have their freshly manicured microphones out looking for dirt and I am ashamed of them. Vanity Fair printed countless anonymous rumors about Judith Giuliani. It stripped them of credibility, even if any of them are true. So if you're going to print something nasty, you've got to say who made it up. I smell some Karl Rove-type tactics behind this attack on Giuliani, and I'm wondering what Democrat is as crafty as Rove is.
Well, gosh, I don't know. But if Hillary is our next president, guess who I'm going to pick for first spouse? Yep - Judith Giuliani. A bipartisan relationship would be good for the country.
How would this work? Anyone married to a presidential candidate must agree to run for first spouse. We will have a debate night, where each candidate must state her or his platform. They must bring several changes of the clothes we will be staring at for four years. They must bring credit card bills for the two years before the campaign. I want to know their favorite books, the ones they bought before the campaign staff told them to say "The Bible, of course." They must also present their nominees for White House pet. The primary pet must be canine and of at least beagle size. The vice pet may be feline.
Of course, we'll need a new impeachment process.
If I vote for someone whose platform is "Let's Bake, America!" and he ends up being a fitness nut instead, out he goes. If the first spouse strays without a really good reason, like, say, Paul Newman, we kick her to the curb.
And once we gain this inalienable right, fellow Americans, we can get to the next most urgent election: picking those White House kids.
Monique Doyle Spencer is author of "The Courage Muscle: A Chicken's Guide To Living With Breast Cancer."
