I am one of President George W. Bush's gardeners. Mr. George likes to talk to me.

Saturday, May 29, 2004

Chatting with the Lord of the Dance

One of the great things about working as a gardener at the White House is that I get to meet famous people. Like Lord Michael Flatley. He came up to me, danced a little jig, and introduced himself.

"Good day, sirrah! I'm the Lord of the Dance."

"That's not what I heard."

"Oh, you heard about my little contest with that American, did you? I admit it: he defeated me once in a Seattle dance-off."


"Be that as it may, I regained my Feet of Flames title recently in Nepal. The American will probably blame his loss on the mild case of pulmonary edema that he contracted while rescuing those sherpas from the summit of Mt. Annapurna. But two days was plenty of time to recover from such an affair."

"How did you finally defeat him?" I asked.

"Simple. I began the reel with jump threes, slid into hop threes, and then moved into a unique tuck-back trade step that was part of the sevens. The American kept up through the hop threes, but then he grew confused by my hornpipe reel, and became so positively intimidated by my treble jig that he burst into a fit of spastic coughing. The title was mine — again."

"Can I see the dance?"

"Sure, if you pay me thirty-seven dollars."

"That's seven hours of pay. I don't have that kind of money!"

Mr. Flatley walked away, but as he did so, he winked, pirouetted, and did what I can only imagine to be the tuck-back trade step that he used to defeat his nemesis. I sure did like Mr. Flatley. And Mr. George told me that I get to meet Mr. Rush Limbaugh next week.


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