3.15

On a mid-January afternoon in 2002 not so different from this one, President George W. Bush was facing matters of national import yet again. Reclining in a sedentary fashion involving a recliner, sweat pants, cheeto stains on an old t-shirt, and one hand slightly resting on inside his pants, the President once again showed he had his finger on the pulse of real America. His task that afternoon was to survey the nation's highest cultural exercise, professional postseason football, from his regally comfy throne, and it was a task that he thoroughly excelled at.

All was not well in G. W.'s realm, however. The most pressing concern was that of the pretzel conundrum. The President was hungry. At least, he believed he was hungry. True, he had been snacking all day and a few signs (a burp or two, slight bloating, etc.) indicated that he had eaten enough, but if there was even the possibility of excess stomach space, who was he to deny his tummy what it wanted?

Then again, Laura had recently sought to regulate his snackfood intake. It was a move which the President sincerely questioned. Who was his wife to judge what diet he should pursue? Were not potato chips and ho-hos the most efficient methods of calorie deliverance to one's body? Was it so wrong to enjoy one's self, even to a bit of excess, as long as taste buds and good times prospered? Surely, rumors of stretch marks and heart burn were greatly exaggerated. Ronald Reagan didn't have to worry about this crap!

President Bush stared at the bowl of pretzels before him, now oblivious to the football game. The bowl of pretzels stared back, mocking him. This was the moment of truth. Was he already full and didn't know it? Maybe he knew it and didn't care? Perhaps he should have waited for some buddies to come over before he started munching again. After all, saliva resources were already spread thin, and the guilty bag of barbecue chips he'd recently opened still waited on the table, expectantly. Chips were one thing. Pretzels were a different beast entirely. Suddenly, it seemed as if nothing else mattered, nothing, except eating those pretzels. No matter if it ruined his appetite for dinner, the barbecue potato chips, even post-game ice cream, right now, President George W. Bush wanted pretzels.

Was there a moment of doubt as he reached into the bowl? Was his stomach misleading his brain into thinking he could handle more than his chewing facilities could endure? Was he challenged by fleeting childhood memories of Jeb eating bag after bag of pretzels while his father laughed benevolently, young G.W. sullenly munching on animal crackers in the background? Only one man can say.

Regardless, The Decider acted. Reaching into the bowl, he pulled out a pretzel. Rich, salty, golden brown goodness awaited his eager tongue. As he opened his mouth, anticipation filled him. This was the moment he had been waiting for! This would be a moment to remember! Doubters be damned, this was the perfect pretzel.

And lo, what ecstasy that first bite was! Barbecue potato chips and football paled in comparison to its ambrosial taste. What did Laura know of food? This, this was the snack food of great men!

But, alas, President George W. Bush was denied his moment of bliss. For as he chewed, as he swallowed his wondrous prize, something went wrong. The president began to have difficulty breathing. He fell from his throne, gasping for air, clawing for support, alone save for his dogs who could only watch as their master lost consciousness on the ground.

He awoke moments later, a Secret Service man coming to his aid. President Bush's first thought was to deny what had happened, but a too telling bruise began to materialize on his face. He knew what he had to do.

It takes a brave person to own up to choking on a pretzel, but President Bush was courageous enough to do just that. He acknowledged the accident, joked about it, and, most importantly, told the American people the truth. Yes, it was embarrassing for the leader of the free world to choke. But President Bush knew that the ability to be self reflexive, tell the truth with humility, and accept responsibility with poise and a bit of humor was the key to overcoming the situation with the grace and dignity one expects from the President of the United States.

The American people deserved nothing less. And why not? It was, after all, just a pretzel.