Just Another Wistful Cinderella Missing the Inaugural Ball Magic

There must be some mistake. I never received my invitation to any of the inaugural events. I can’t believe I wasn’t on the A-list. I was sure that along with Adam Clymer, I was on the major league A-list.

I don’t understand how the Bushes could snub me like this. I mean, George W. and I couldn’t have more in common now. We both live in Washington, D.C., we’re both 50ish, white males . . . and when we say things on radio and TV, people laugh.

Not that I would’ve gone to any of those inaugural events. What, and be around all those insufferable, gloating Republicans wearing their Texas string ties and cowboy boots, parading their women through Washington? I haven’t seen such big hair since “Welcome Back Kotter.” The Republicans act so imperious, like they own the country.

Oh, they do?

Well, that explains it, then.

So now it looks like I’ve missed everything. I missed the kickoff to the inaugural . . . Bush’s visit to his boyhood home in Midland, Texas, where he grew up the humble son of a multimillionaire oilman and CIA chief. Midland’s slogan: “The sky’s the limit.”

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In Bush’s autobiography, “A Charge to Keep,” he talks about how much that slogan meant to him. True, it seems incredible to contemplate that George W. Bush wrote an autobiography. But on closer inspection, it appears that Karen Hughes wrote it, and Bush colored the pictures. “A Charge to Keep” is such an odd title. What’s it about, shopping at Neiman-Marcus? According to Hughes, as a result of his exposure to Midland’s slogan, “Bush grew up with a great sense of optimism and possibility . . . that if you were willing to work hard, you could achieve your dreams.”

Of course, Bush grew up with a great sense of optimism and possibility. He was loaded! His family owned oil wells. His grandfather was a U.S. senator, his father was president! Here’s what my friend Mike says about W.: “He was born on third base and thought he’d hit a double.”

Anyway, I missed the Midland gig. I missed the Conservative Celebration of the Death of the Clinton Administration, with satirical eulogies by Jackie Mason and author Christopher Buckley. I was especially sorry to miss it when I saw that two of the scheduled participants were Rep. Bob Barr and Judge Robert Bork . . . a couple of real hoots, the Penn & Teller of the far right, I’m sure.

I missed all the galas, like the Christian Inaugural Eve Gala, the Hispanic Presidential Inaugural Gala (“Chavez? Chavez? No, she doesn’t seem to be on the guest list”) and the New Millennium of Diversity Inaugural Ball. (“Sharpton? Sharpton? No, I’m sorry, but he’s old millennium diversity.”) And I missed all the state-sponsored balls, with their quirky state-appropriate rules; the South Carolina ball specified “black tie or military dress.” And I sure would like to see Strom Thurmond in a military dress, because I’m getting sick of that Bob Mackie frock he wears to most parties.

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There were parties I’d love to have attended. I was dying to go to the Being John Ashcroft shindig, where the guests anointed themselves with oil. Ashcroft, as we know, uses Crisco Oil, but reportedly most guests opted for the house vinaigrette. I was dying to go to the Gale Norton Salutes the Exxon Valdez and Fish Fry. (I heard they were going to have baked Alaska, bada-bing.) The most coveted State Ball invitation was for Texas, of course. There were 6,000 guests and another 1,000 people on the waiting list. But I’d rather have gone to the Florida Inaugural Dinner ball. They don’t know exactly how people attended. They’re recounting them now, but James A. Baker’s trying to stop it. There was a live band and face painting! VIP guests were allowed to apply a fresh coat to Katherine Harris.

Oh, come on. We kid because we love.