Reflecting on the studied vanity of the 56 yr. old George Bush running for miles in triple digit temperatures at his Texas 'ranch,' as if to prove he's more of a man than all those wimpy football players in the news dying of heatstroke, a further question kept nagging at me, namely, what kind of adult has the freedom to spend so many discretionary hours daily in beautifying exercise? And it hit me - Bush enjoys the
lifestyle of a Trophy Wife! The parallels are uncanny: like the Trophy Wife, Bush leaves the heavy lifting to others - strategy to Karl Rove, message to Karen Hughes, implementation to ****** Cheney, wisdom from his own Poppy; leaving Bush blissfully free to pursue his most perfect image of himself. As a Trophy Wife may garner laurels and legitimacy from the arduous tasks of directing interior decorators and the caterers, so too does Bush take 'security briefings and 'meetings' (and they must be punctual!) Not that Bush is actually making the decisions, he is obviously not the actual Commander in Chief - from the bombing of Iraq to planned actions off the China coast, military decisions are not being made in the White House; Bush only even hears about them afterward. In any event, little seems to interfere with his schedule of workouts and naps. But then, so goes the life of the Trophy Wife, who presents the perfect appearance of femininity while eschewing its nurturing essence
- leaving the raising of the kids to nannies, cooking to the personal chef, etc. And so we have George Bush as the complete embodiment of what's come to be known as ornamental masculinity. He doesn't do the thinking, the doing, or the deciding, nothing at all than can remotely be considered productive. But he's fit! He can run miles in the heat! He's confident in his own mind he's more butch than anyone! And apparently, in Bush's mind, that's enough.
