Laura Bush was saying to me the other day, isn't ambition a fickle thing? One minute you're all comfy in your boudoir, leafing through the Vogue summer preview and considering whether it would make sense to move the chaise longue a little closer to the liquor cabinet; and the next minute you're tits up on the shag carpet wondering what life's about and why you feel so unfulfilled.
Cupcakes: I, too, have had such a moment, though unlike dear Laura I did manage to keep both myself and my cosmo off the rug. I was going through my morning e-mails about a month ago and read:
Dear Dolores,Now, I must get at least a dozen questions like that every day. But until this one, I always sent a form response explaining that like a tender South American orchid growing on a rugged cliff, I gotta bloom or perish. It's the reason I left the farm where I was born. I didn't want to wind up like my mother, who wrote "Today I ate some grass" on every page of her diary until the day she died.
Hi! Such a fan here. I work at a rehabilitation center for wayward girls in Wheatgrass Depot, Oregon and not a day goes by that your name doesn't come up in conversation at least twice!
Anywhoo, not to get too personal but I was wondering, how do you manage it all? I come home from an eight-hour day and all I want to do is drop into a chair with a big old Fiesta Platter from the Taco Bell and watch "Ugly Betty" reruns. You have your writing, your music, your celebrity lifestyle and your duty to the public as a fashion icon. Does the pressure to be the best ever get to you?
When I read Mitzie's message, well, the veil dropped from my eyes. I've lived, yeah. Songs? Sung. Books? Written. Parties? And how. And yet...and yet...it's not enough. But when you've done it all and are still shockingly youthful, what are you gonna do next?
I don't mind telling you I was on the verge of weeping a little weep like Alexander, because there were no more worlds to conquer. And then a voice in my head thundered, "Dolores! Now is the time for all good sheep to come to the aid of the country."
And I thought, how true.
So what if I've always been an artist? Many artists have evolved into inspiring political leaders. Think of Ignaz Paderewski, Vaclav Havel, Fred Grandy, Sonny Bono. If Arnold Schwarzenegger can stand on a lofty peak, why shouldn't I reach the summit? And as my Great-Aunt Wilma used to say, if the world's going to go to Hell in a handbasket you might as well try to grab the handle.
Today, therefore, I am announcing my candidacy for President of the United States of America, as representative of the newly-formed Fibertarians party.
We are a small but powerful fledgling coalition. According to exploratory canvassing our power base is extremely diverse, witness the chart below.
Talk about strange bedfellows. Of course, all are welcome in this tent.* We only ask an allegiance to party principles, which are as follows:
- Vote for me.
- See above.
Now, my campaign promises.
Unlike the other candidates, I readily admit that I'm in this for the bling. Free travel by private jet, a huge expense account, my own office, and a posse of humpy bodyguards in suits and dark glasses? Betcherass. So just tell me what you want, and I'll want that, too.
Let's get the ball of yarn rolling with a few suggestions collected by my press secretary, Harry.
- Elizabeth Zimmermann's birthday will be declared a national holiday.
- All fiber-related purchases will be fully tax-deductible.
- Knitting will become a mandatory subject in American public schools.
- Government subsidies for the establishment of independent yarn shops in high-need areas.
*You don't even have to live in America or be American. After a stay in the White House, I'm thinking world domination might be a freakin' hoot.