Hi George, It's Me Again!

Dear George: See, what did I tell you? Summer's just around the corner and gas prices are higher than an intern on an ether binge. People are shaking their fists, stamping their feet, shrieking at radio talk show hosts, and threatening to tip their local gas jockey in very unchristian ways. People are very ticked that it takes half a week's pay to fill up their Ford Explorer, George, and quite frankly it's you who's going to take the fall on this one...and don't give me that, "I invaded a country, what more do the ungrateful bastards want?!" It made for a nice dinner party joke, George, but the excuse is getting a little stale.

And so are your popularity numbers, I might add. Have you seen the figures lately? Phyllis Diller could out pull you, George, which is saying something given that cardboard cutout you're running against.

Ah, but like my mother always says, if you're handed a lemon, make yourself a big batch of lemonade...actually, that was probably your mother; mine would just toss them in the garbage and go for the cranberry juice. But the point, old chum, is that you have a golden opportunity here. For a full year now, you've been denying that all this Iraq stuff had anything to do with oil, touting Halliburton as a feel good company that just wants to lend a hand, and shouting "Terror! Terror! Terror!" And what have you got? Two-thirds of the country wondering why your brother Jeb admits to knowing you, much less why he would go out of his way to swing the election for you.

And before you say it, I know it had nothing to do with oil, and congratulations on showing that smarty-pants Saddam a thing or two about what it means to cross a Texan. But, here's the thing, George, it's time to start playing that oil card. Blame the unholy buggers. Circulate some pictures, nice full-colour blow-ups of Iraqis sitting on oil barrels and giving good old Uncle Sam the finger. Get them to burn a few Exxon flags, kick an SUV, pee on a Cadillac, then broadcast across the country that these foreign heathens are keeping America from its God-given right to fill up, head out, and drive three thousand miles for a Krispy Kreme and coffee.

America is angry, George. Even peaceniks and liberals so left of centre they'd have made Lenin blush are seriously annoyed at how much it's costing to drive their dog to the salon for a shampoo and blow-dry, and as we all know, it's one thing to go killing innocent foreigners, and quite another to put a crimp in that RV trip to Yosemite. If you get it into people's heads that all that stands between them and a full tank of premium is a handful of uppity Arabs with bad teeth, you'll have absolutely no problem getting funding, rotating troops, and finding votes for this little Middle Eastern foray of yours.

My God, man! You'll have little old grannies signing up to go over there and beat people senseless with their umbrellas if they think it'll keep their Studebakers gassed up and ready for weekend trips to the flee market.

And you won't be alone, George old buddy, no sir. If there's one thing worse than an American with a Plymouth Voyager running on empty, it's a Canadian with a Ford Windstar spluttering down the Trans-Canada Highway. We have old men risking jail up here, George, stealing from gas stations, protesting, threatening to overthrow the government, oil executives being chased down Bay Street by roaming gangs of renegade Nissan Pathfinders; a whole country ready to revolt at the slightest suggestion that their feet are meant for anything other than a gas pedal.

There is some seriously unfocussed aggression here, George. Get it pointed in the right direction, and you'll have an armada of birchbark canoes heading across the Atlantic in no time. We may talk big about peace, love, and concern for our fellow man, but this is gas we're talking about here! We're like a pack of rabid beavers when we can't drive to the mini-mart.

So blame Iraq, George. I know you're probably a little gun-shy (Ha ha, gun-shy! Get it?) about doing that again, but this one has some real potential, even if it's about as true as reports of Bin Laden sightings at a Baghdadi strip club. Because terror's one thing, George, but high gas prices are quite another...this'll have some real legs to it.

Trust me.