Friday, March 03, 2006

MANGOS! MANGOS! CHA! CHA! CHA!

President Bush complimented the people of India on their production of mangos and stated that the people of the United States were eagerly looking forward to receiving mangos in trade with India. I guess our part of the bargain is giving India nuclear information of some kind, for peaceful purposes, of course. We hope. Anyway, in return, we will get these delightful shipments of mangos.

The President also spoke briefly about the blessings that India had brought to the American people, through outsourcing. He thinks outsourcing is a wonderful thing, which sometimes makes life tough for American families, who will simply have to adjust to the jobs available in the 21st Century.

Looking into the jobs available in the 21st century, they consist of being waiters or waitresses, janitors, nurse's aides, and lucrative positions like that. It makes one hope the mangos will be dirt cheap, so that the newly-adjusted Americans can afford them. Anything other than approval of outsourcing, said the President, is protectionism, and he disagrees with that.

Hello? Protectionism? Do we not elect a President to protect us, to protect our jobs, protect our futures? Or should we simply be grateful for a hearty meal of mangos?

Because I am always interested in such things, I conducted a telephone poll on the subject of mangos. My poll covered several United States citizens, selected randomly from my telephone book. It consisted of a variety of women, men and young children, some of whom dropped the telephone and left me hanging and some of whom babbled incoherently into the receiver. But, in the interest of political veracity, I stayed with the task and here are the results.

Forty percent of those polled said they liked bananas more than they liked mangos, and suggested we give nuclear information to St. Lucia rather than India, since St. Lucia is a source of bananas.

Thirty percent said they preferred apples more than mangos and, besides, they pointed out, it is said that an "apple a day keeps the doctor away" and they couldn't afford doctors, had no health insurance, and needed all the help they could get.

Ten percent of those polled said..."Mangos? What in the hell are you talking about? I'm cooking dinner and how dare you call me about mangos when I'm busy! Isn't there a law against this?"

Five percent of those polled thought that a mango was a Spanish dance that they had seen performed by Drew Lachey and that girl with the mile-long legs on a recent television show.

Five percent said they didn't give a hoot one way or another, but they were sick and tired of trying to make a business call and getting someone on the other end of the line who had such a thick foreign accent they were impossible to converse with. They implied that it would be easier to talk with a mango.

Five percent of those polled said "Mango? Mango? I'm sorry, there's no Mango living here. You must have the wrong number."

The remaining five percent said, "Oh, President Bush is in India? Is he visiting my job? I wonder how my job is doing over there. Will he bring it back with him? What? Mangos? Can I mix them with hamburger and feed the kids with them?"

After completing the poll, I reflected on the remainder of the President's trip, which will be spent in Pakistan, neighbor of India. We do not know whether or not the President carried a basket of mangos to present to Pakistan's president. Pakistan's President is our close ally, it is said, who has helped us in the War Against Terror. It should be easier for him, too, because there seems to be so many terrorists located there, even Osama bin Laden. In fact, sometimes it seems that the President of Pakistan is the only friend and ally there. We're really not too sure about the other millions of them. Those demonstrations, mob scenes, and hangings in effigy really don't seem too friendly.

Anyway, the political world is an unfamiliar jungle for the American people. While they munch their mangos and mourn their jobs, they can wipe the juice drizzling from their chins and prepare for their bright tomorrow in the New Age job market, hoping they can get the jobs before the Guest Workers have snatched them up.