Reeking Havoc

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Art Kumbalek

I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? Listen, a couple three things here. First, the other week I tipped my cap to the camera artists who, over the years, added some good goddamn visual pizzazz to my little articles. I figured I’d forget somebody, and I did for christ sakes: Dave Bernacchi. We had some great sessions together, not to mention he’s one of the top sports photographers around, what the fock.

Next, a helpful suggestion for our governor, Snidely Whiplash: If Republican primary voters wreak havoc upon his presidential aspirations, I’d say move to Hollywood ’cause I’m telling you, this guy was abso-focking-lutely born to play Norman Bates in the next remake of Psycho, I kid you not.

Now, as far as mine own presidential hankering, I figure it’s high time to get serious about getting my list of possible running mates together by the short hairs now and step out from the pack; so that the people would have a better clue as to what they’d be getting into come a Kumbalek administration down the pike.

I know that somewheres out there is exactly the gent or lady whose name rightfully should be added to that august list of vice presidents that include the likes of Elbridge Gerry, Schuyler Colfax, Levi P. Morton, Garret A. Hobart and all the others, household names known well in each and every American civics class from Natchez to Mobile, from Memphis to St. Joe.

Since the lucky stiff or stiffette I select could one day assume the catbird seat if I were to choke on a chicken bone or get sent up the river on some kind of trumped-up phony ethics charge, I thought I’d do a little snooping around former presidents and see if I could come up with anything even remotely resembling a quality that I’d want in my vice president. For the research, I turned to that Internet that former Vice President Al Gore discovered, and son of a gun if these computers can’t do more for you than locate smut stuff and sports scores.

So instead of my regular essay, I’ll publish some findings on presidents I found just so you’s got something to read while I go work on my second-in-command list. God bless America.

* President Taft, who weighed 340 lbs. soaking dry, got stuck in the bathtub on his Inauguration Day and had to be pried out by his attendants. His bathtub was large enough for four average-sized men. (What the fock, who wants a tub big enough for four focking guys? As president, I would choose a tub that comfortably fit three average-sized gals, and me.)

* Jimmy Carter was the first president born in a hospital. (Which means Ma and Pa Carter were the first parents of a president to open their mail and say, “They’re charging how much for goddamn focking cotton ball?”)

* President James Garfield could write Latin with one hand and Greek with the other—simultaneously! (Swell. And if he hadn’t been assassinated, after his term in office he could’ve looked forward to a lucrative post-presidency career working the carnival-sideshow circuit.)

* Andrew Jackson was the only U.S. president to believe the world is flat. (OK, but do you think he would’ve thought Iraq had weapons of mass destruction? I think not.)

* The first president to ride in an automobile was William McKinley. After being shot in an assassination attempt, he was taken to the hospital in a 1901 Columbia electric ambulance. (Kind of a “good news—bad news” deal there, ain’a?)

* George Washington was deathly afraid of being buried alive. After he died, he wanted to be laid out for three days just to make sure he was really dead. (First ladies back then were paid little heed. All during the three-day vigil, Martha Washington was heard to be muttering, “Jesus H. Christ, stick a fork in him. He’s done all right already.”)

* Richard Nixon left instructions for “California, Here I Come” to be the last piece of music played, softly and slowly, at his funeral if he were to die in office. (Yeah, no such luck.)

*John Quincy Adams took his last skinny-dip in the Potomac River on his 79th birthday. (And I’m thinking Penelope focking Cruz could take her first Potomac skinny-dip upon her election as my vice president—citizenship be damned. I’d love to have her as my running mate. Bet you a buck two-eighty that when it came to campaign oratory, she’d be muy bueno on the stump, you betcha.)

So, just checking back to see how you’re doing. I haven’t made much headway on my veep list, sorry to say, but I’m going to keep working on it because—as in the historic tradition of many who’ve served our country in the land’s highest office—it’s the least I can do, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.