Diatribune

Chapter 1

I hadn't heard from my Uncle Bud in a while, which is not unusual. He is retired now, I guess. He's certainly old enough to retire, but in his kind of work, it's hard to retire. You see, Uncle Bud did odd jobs for Republicans for more decades than I care to remember. You may have heard of him, but when he did his job well, he stayed in the shadows.

What I know about Uncle Bud's working life I kind of pieced together from the ice fishing trips he'd take me on before his blood thinned and the cold started getting to him. Sitting in the shelter on some frozen Minnesota or Wisconsin Lake, he'd drop his line in the ice, take a few pulls of some private label bourbon or other, and tell me his thinly disguised adventures.

Today I heard from Uncle Bud for the first time in years. It seems he bought a small bar on the Potomac by a run-down marina in South East DC. He named it "Uncle Bud's Select Taproom." It has a dock next to the side door and tunnels in the basement that honeycomb DC. Seems Joe Kennedy, Sr owned the place during prohibition. Uncle Bud's has become the late night hangout of many GOP backroom operatives. Last night the tunnels came in handy for some high level GOP boys who needed to blow off a little steam.

About 2 a.m. the red light and warning buzzer went off in the sleeping quarters of Uncle Bud's converted PT Boat (he has a weird thing about the Kennedy's, but that's another story). The light and buzzer warn Uncle Bud that visitors have arrived in the basement through one of the tunnels. Uncle Bud's a tough old guy and he is extreme familiar with the workings of his old service .45. The two of them went to investigate.

He reached the cellar door of the taproom and waited. He could hear voices behind the reinforced door (a Thank You gift from Halliburton), but he waited silently for the signal. After a few minutes, he heard the secret knock and opened the door. He's had big wigs in place before (that's what he calls them, big wigs) but none as big or as wigged as this crew.

They noisily flopped down at a copper-clad table and began drinking heavily. One of them demanded that the karaoke machine be turned on. They shouldn't have done that, because Uncle Bud hates the damn thing and he got pissed off with the boys. (I think that's why he told me about this whole thing.) The boys demanded a Warren Zevon Song and here's what happened next.

"Lawyers, Guns, and Money" by Warren Zevon

Scooter Libby started off:

I went home with Judy Miller
The way I always do
How was I to know
She was a bad liar, too?

They all joined with the chorus:

Dae da da Dae da da-da dae dae de dae dae da

Then W chimed in:
I was AWOL in Alabama
I took a little risk
Send lawyers, guns, and money
Dad, get me out of this, HA!

Another drunken chorus stumbled along.

Libby jumped in again:

I'm the innocent bystander
Somehow I got stuck
Between Russert and Matt Cooper
And I'm down on my luck
Yes, I'm down on my luck

The ragged chorus limped along this time.

Then a growl deep from the tightening throat of the VP finished things off with;

Now I'm hiding in my bunker
I'm a desperate man
Send lawyers, guns, and money
The shit has hit the fan.

After that Cheney did a solo of "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner" and "Jeannie Needs a Shooter." Bush tried to sing "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead," but he couldn't remember the words, and then feel asleep half-way through. After that, Uncle Bud threw them out. He hates seeing the GOP's leading lights make fools of themselves.

That's all the news from Uncle Bud's Select Taproom. If he sends me any more news of GOP happenings in the dark corners of DC, I'll pass it along.