When the president pops in, everything is fine

We were sitting around after dinner on Thanksgiving Day, stuffing down the last sliver of pumpkin pie, when there was a knock on the door.

We were in the Washington state town of Tenino, the capital of nowhere, having dinner with my daughter’s in-laws. There were 24 of us, and the room was noisy, but conversation ceased at the rap-rap-rapping.

Virginia, who owns the house with her husband, Harold, called “Coming!” to whoever was knocking on the door. There is no crime in Tenino because hardly anyone goes there, but a bear showed up in the garden one night so Virginia was being careful.

She opened the door a crack, and from my angle I could see a expression of growing disbelief on her face. Then she flung the door wide open and said, “It’s him!” And in stepped President George W. Bush.

Talk about a surprise! He was doing what he did in Iraq, using the pop-in visit not only to show his concern for Americans everywhere but to introduce the nation to a powerful new political device: showing up uninvited.

Bush was more than welcome at the house in Tenino. We stood and clapped just as they had in Iraq, while he served everyone more pie, adding a dollop of whipped cream. The media entourage with him took a hundred photos.

“How you folks getting along?” he wanted to know, and we all said, “Fine, just fine,” even though not everyone was. He was so pleased we were fine that tears of gratitude filled his eyes. He shook hands, then excused himself to use the bathroom, but never came back. Because his arrivals and departures must be secret, he’d climbed out a bathroom window and disappeared into the night.

One of the photographers handed out slips that said we could buy the photos later at a reasonable price. They bore an address of the Committee to Re-elect the President.

My wife and I were talking about it the next day when someone turned on the TV. On the tube was an interior shot of the orbiting international space station. A news commentator was saying, “Stand by for a historical event, brought to you exclusively ...”

As the astronauts looked toward a rear air lock, there was a sudden clanking sound, then a loud hisssss, and the door slowly opened. Stepping into the station wearing a red, white and blue space suit was, you guessed it, George W. Bush!

He served tubes of condensed plum pudding to the astronauts, shook hands and asked how they were all doing. They replied with a chorus of “Fine, just fine.” He told them how much he loved America and what a fine job they were doing and asked to use their bathroom. When they said they didn’t have one, their attention was diverted by two Secret Service men telling funny stories, and when the astronauts looked around, the president was gone.

Later film showed him space-walking back to his shuttle, carrying a sign aimed toward Earth that said, “How you folks doing? You’re a beautiful country, America!” No one had the heart to tell him the sign was pointing toward Estonia. It was the intention that counted.

The following Sunday, Bush was seen popping into a submerged nuclear sub. Unfortunately, there’d been a security breach, and even before he appeared, a crewman was playing “Hail to the Chief” on the harmonica. It didn’t seem to faze the president. He asked how everyone was doing, whipped up a nice green salad with mushrooms and radishes, served it to everyone and bubbled back up to the surface.

His next appearance was during the traditional football game between Houston’s Nixon and Hoover high schools. It was the start of the second half, when the ball was caught at kickoff by a tailback for Hoover who went 85 yards for a touchdown as his blockers sent the Nixon tacklers sprawling into the artificial turf.

When the tailback scored, he spiked the ball, did a little victory boogie and threw off his helmet! It was old George W. Bush again, and the guys doing the blocking were Secret Service agents, wearing dark glasses and two-way radio earphones. Bush was immediately handed a mike, and he asked, to wild cheers, how everyone was doing while throwing bags of free peanuts into the stands. The cheering section spelled out “Fine, just fine,” and the cheerleaders began chanting “Fine, fine, fine, fine!”

No telling where he’ll show up next. The pop-in visit is a masterful tool, like a game show in which one must guess where he’s going to be next Tuesday or Thursday. Should he suddenly appear in your area, stay cool. If you’re at war or out of a job or unable to afford medical prescriptions that keep you alive and he asks how you’re doing, just say, “Fine, fine, everything is just hunky-dory.” No sense upsetting him.

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Al Martinez’s column appears Mondays and Fridays. He’s at al.martinez@latimes .com.