Democrats: Our Dog Died

Your first child was a large Golden Retriever named after jazz great Miles Davis. He had a large head, muscular shoulders, and a fur coat that was gorgeous. With the exception of your brother-in-law Fred, everyone you knew loved Miles. He was handsome, well-behaved, good natured and smart.

Miles got old and strange bumps appeared on his body. He walked so slow it was painful to watch, but you did for many years. His legs began to give out. Smelly “gifts” were left for you around the house. Then Miles died and your hearts were broken. You buried him in the yard, held hands and cried.

After a while, when the grieving faded and the fond memory of Miles replaced the emptiness, a sense of freedom snuck up on you. No longer did you have to brave the elements to walk him twice a day. The tumbleweeds of fur and fragrance of wet-dog were noticeably absent. You were a lighter load when traveling and more nimble. Having Miles was wonderful, and not having Miles was good, too.

Democrats, our dog died on November 2, 2010. What was large, promising and wonderful became bumpy, old and dysfunctional. We will miss it dearly. Fond memories of being the majority party will hopefully soon replace the confusion and remorse we feel now as the minority.

Soon, however, we will be liberated.

No longer are we saddled with the sole responsibility of governing in a time of world-wide economic turmoil and terrorism. The Republican machine can show Americans how exactly we reduce spending, the deficit and taxes simultaneously with fighting the good fight in Afghanistan. The conservatives can crack the nut of the unabashed and grotesque spending of money in the United States on political campaigns. The GOP can demonstrate how in the era of powerful interest groups and extremists Government can represent We the People.