Happy Halloween

Hey Folks,

If you're from Ohio, this is a hoot!!! My guess is that even if you're not from Ohio, you can appreciate it.

But first, check out this DeWine ad: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QbZ_w-LSytg . I bet that the three crusty biddies are Mike's old girl friends. Mike knows how to pick 'em!!

-Uke Man

Politicians’ revenge: when ads attack back
Sunday, October 29, 2006
MIKE HARDEN

Forget Haunted Hoochie and the other Halloween fright sites in Central Ohio. Last night I dreamed I was trapped in a catacomb where all the political TV ads of 2006 came to life.

Greeted at the entrance by a trio of pinch-faced crones, I was led to a torture chamber where a writhing figure was being stewed in a cauldron.

"Eye of newt and toe of frog," one of the witches recited of the recipe.

"Then throw in Sherrod Brown, the dog," a second cackled.

The trio screeched in unison, "We don’t trust you, Sherrod Brown," whacking him down into the broth with spatulas the size of canoe paddles.

Thunder crashed and lightning flashed, but behind a curtain churning the storm machine I glimpsed Ohio Republican Party Chairman Bob Bennett, dressed as Elmer Fudd, chanting, "Be afwaid. Be vehwy, vehwy afwaid."

A spindly, aged man grabbed me by the lapels, imploring, "You’ve got to help me. I can’t find my way home."

"But you’re Bob Shamansky," I said. "You’ve got three homes. You ought to be able to find one of them."

"No, forget the Sham," hissed Emily Kreider. "Help me find a polling place where I can vote — retroactively."

A thunderous rumble echoed down the passageway. I looked up to glimpse a squadron of giant Macy’s Parade figures bumping their heads on the ceiling. There was Bob Taft, Tom Noe and Bob Ney.

"Make them disappear, for God’s sake!" Mike DeWine pleaded. "The Democrats are eating my lunch."

"Very well," answered the Good Witch of the Right, waving a wand and suddenly obscuring the figures in a gray plume.

"More smoke," DeWine commanded. "I think we need some more smoke. Don’t you think it makes it look more dramatic? "

I crawled from under the smokescreen and followed the faint strains of the movie theme from The Godfather into a semi-darkened den where a graying former political Capo di tutti capi held court behind a huge walnut desk.

"Don Celeste," his visitor began.

"It’s Dick," the godfather interrupted. "Cripes, Ted, I’m your brother."

"Forgive me, godfather. The Republicans are killing me. They’re running bad 8 mm footage of me taken with the same camera that shot Bigfoot. They say I’m just like you. Tax, tax, tax. Family tradition."

"Your point?" the godfather asked.

I crawled on.

"Pssssst!" I heard from a dark recess. "It’s Zack Space."

"Right," I answered. "And this here is Moon Unit and Dweezil."

"No, that’s really my name. You’ve got to save me from Joy Padgett."

"What’s she look like? "

"Little apple-doll lady. A real Tupperware Madonna. Drives a car with Terry Anderson’s stuffed head as a hood ornament."

I crawled on, buoyed by the sight of a faintly glowing exit sign in the distance. To reach it, I would have to make it past Mary Jo Kilroy’s bad-hair-day photo and three howling dogs.

My hands and knees were cut and scraped, but I didn’t look as bad as the GOP’s autopsy photo of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi.

I burst into the chill October air, gasping for just a breath of clean air. I would have paid good money for a Fred Ricart commercial.

Behind me, I could hear faintly the closing moments of the Kilroy ad for The Pryce Is Wrong. At the end of it, someone had supplanted Bob Barker’s pet-friendly goodbye:

"Make this a better world. Please remember to spay and neuter all politicians."


mharden@dispatch.com