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When 43’s at 22

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Rick Horowitz
October 2, 2008
“Overall, the president’s approval rating has dropped five points from last week and is now the lowest of his presidency. Only 22 percent of Americans approve of the job he’s doing, while 70 percent of Americans disapprove—a new high….The 70 percent disapproval rating is higher than any measured since Gallup began asking about presidential job approval in 1938.”
--CBS News Poll, Released 10/1

In days of old, when knights were bold,


And no one had a telephone,


The guys in charge could strut their stuff


While common folk were on their own.


If leaders stumbled, made mistakes,


It didn’t have to take a toll,


For that was in the glory days,


Before the first opinion poll.


But now it’s different, now it’s changed,


As Mister Bush knows all too well,


His ratings used to kiss the sky,


But then they fell…


and fell…


and fell.


They tumbled from their lofty heights,


The nation stirred with discontent,


It’s hard to say you’re Number One


When you’re at 22 percent.


In days of old, before the crash,


Before the wars and hurricanes,


He thought he had it figured out,


He’d do it like he did campaigns.


Divide and conquer! Hit and run!


Be bold! Be firm! And don’t back down!


But then he pushed it much too far…


And now they want him out of town.


’Cause things are different, things have changed,


The numbers tell his tale of woe,


“Eight years is plenty,” people say.


“You’ve done enough. Now please—just go!”


It’s gone so bitter, gone so mean,


He wonders where the good times went,


There’s nothing left but might-have-beens


When you’re at 22 percent.


In days like these, we’re all plugged in,


And people judge your ev’ry move,


They check a box, they click a key,


They say “We strongly disapprove."

There’s no escaping, no relief,


They strip you bare, they jab each nerve,


The one small consolation is


You only get what you deserve.


So things are different, things have changed,


The world moves on, the tide has turned,


He thought he’d fly right to the sun,


His dreams got scorched, his wings got burned.


“You can’t fool all the people all the…”


Now he knows just what they meant,


The numbers make it, or they don’t:


And he’s at 22 percent.


Rick Horowitz is a syndicated columnist. You can write to him at rickhoro@execpc.com.

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