I vowed last month that I would ease up on Dubya but he keeps irritating my pocketbook and me. I have serious doubts that I am going to get through the next three and a half years with my sanity and my ass -- ets intact. The e-mail, like our economy, reflects our reader's mixed feelings.

One, from Las Vegas, Nevada said, in glowing terms, "Hay, Marie that newsletter is getting better and better, I like the way you been ripping Wubya, it's good stuff."

Another, from Detroit, Michigan sent me an especially scathing reprimand. "You are very quick to viciously criticize Mr. Bush. What were your comments when you had YOUR president in there for eight years of sleaze, lies and treachery? The Oval Office will never be "pristine" again. I wouldn't want to work at THAT desk either. I believe Mr. Bush meant "The Presidents desk" as "the Presidential desk." You twisted it to suit your purposes, as you would anything else he says or does. At least Monica wasn't under there when the camera pointed to the "underneath opening" of the desk.

I guess we should be happy that the desk is still in the White House and not in New York or Little Rock. Maybe it will eventually end up in the Clinton Adult Library."

As I've always said, and as most of the country has said, I didn't condone nor did I admire Mr. Clinton's profound, weird, sexual appetite, nor his penchant for having zaftig women crawling around the oval office, as well as in and out from under its desk, but his prowess as a states man and economic leader astounded me. I hadn't seen a national economy as vibrant as his administration had delivered since I was a raw kid, just out of college and starting my working career. With Clinton went the economy, came the energy crises and gone were the active lucrative careers of our younger generation. Especially hit hard by Dubya's accidental election was my own family. His election is a faux paux we will long be trying to recover from. I predict we won't recover, not on Dubya's watch anyway.

In deference to Mr. Detroit, I won't mention the start of the Republican defections, Senator James Jeffords of Vermont, for one. I am originally a New Englander, born and bred there, and I can tell you that Senator Jeffords had to dig deep to make his historic decision. And I won't mention that his drinking daughter's are now kicking up their heels -- thar's trouble in that thar family. All the press could conjure up about Clinton's daughter were her unappealing looks and gangly walk. All they could criticize about Gore's offspring is that they were successful, aspiring and aggressive people. No, I don't think that I will mention those things and more. And, in conclusion, what more can I say? Fate moves in mysterious directions and the one thing we can't buy in this world is fate.

EDITOR'S NOTE:
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