Any Excuse to Spout Some They Might Be Giant Lyrics

So, I woke up this morning to The Kevin and Bean Show on my clock radio. (For those outside Southern Cal, Kevin & Bean host a fairly innocuous radio show on KROQ (Pronounced Kay-ROOOOCCCCKKK).) Anyhow, I awoke to them discussing how to solve the immigrant issue. Their solution involved asking “What would President Polk do?”

For the history deficient readers, President James Knox Polk is famous for acquiring land. Annexation of Texas – Polk. The Oregon Treaty of 1846 – Polk. California, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, Utah, and parts of Colorado and Wyoming – Polk, Polk, Polk, Polk, Polk, Polk and Polk.

They Might Be Giants even wrote a song entitled “James K. Polk”:

In four short years he met his every goal
He seized the whole southwest from Mexico
Made sure the tariffs fell
And made the English sell the Oregon territory
He built an independent treasury
Having done all this he sought no second term
But precious few have mourned the passing of
Mister James K. Polk, our eleventh president
Young Hickory, Napoleon of the Stump

Thus, I sit here in somewhat sunny Santa Monica typing this scattershot segue, partially due to Papa Polk. (I like the alliteration.) Without him, I’d probably be typing it in Hoboken or, worse, Lanoka Harbor.

Back to the point, however, one of the radio hosts, possibly Bean, suggested that we, like Polk before us, just annex Mexico. Give Mexican President Vicente Fox some cushy cabinet post and just swallow Mexico up into the United States. Manifest Destiny.

That way, we get Cancun, Tijuana and Donkey Shows. Plus, we don’t need to be worried about that pesky border anymore.

I’ll admit that concept is rather limited in its thinking. Also, it insults the immigrants that aren’t actually from Mexico. El Salvador represent!

But no matter how tempting the idea of American Donkey Shows and fish tacos might be, I have to oppose the annexation of Mexico.

Not just because I believe that underage co-eds deserve a place to drink legally and have awkward, intoxicated intercourse. Which I do. It’s just that one day I know I’ll give up this whole writing charade and return to my first love, CRIME.

If you take away that Mexican border from me, there goes my Shawshank fantasy of running to Mexico with my illegal nest egg. I can just see it now. Me and Morgan Freeman sitting on a beach, drinking tequila, eating fish tacos and waiting for the next Donkey Show.

I wonder if They Might Be Giants ever tour in Mexico.

wojr  ¶ 12:21 PM