Once upon a time, a President of a very famous country, a country with astounding beauty and former wealth, said to his people, "Now that I am President, I have a nice big house to live in----and I am seeking advice as to what to do with my "other" house----which I no longer need."

     From all corners of the world----even Alaska----suggestions started pouring in with ideas of what to do with this house.  A Town Meeting was called----all the greatest minds in the country gathered together to garner the best possibilities for what to do with the house.

     The head "big-wig" of the Real Estate Industry recommended that the President "list" the house----to put it up for sale.

     The Brookings Institution suggested that they be allowed to create a fellowship to select someone to author a book about the house, detailing the social and political implications of its many problems, but more importantly its contribution to scholarly thought in the 21^st century.

     The American Institute of Architects suggested that a search be done among their ranks to select an Architect to design changes to the house----with emphasis on painting it green.

     Members of Congress suggested that perhaps the home could be rented for "Clandestine & Steamy Rendezvous."  One member said, and I quote, "Someone has to roll out of the shadowy chambers and get this business out in the open."

     Military advisors suggested that perhaps wire taps and video surveillance cameras could be set up to monitor the theft of copper wire and pipes from the home-----or that the National Guard could be mobilized.

     Andy Borowitz suggested that the house be used as a safe haven for refugees from Guantanamo and/or New Orleans.

     Allen Greenspan suggested that Freddie and Fanny move in and live "happily ever after"----since they are now homeless and living somewhere under a boxcar in Detroit. The Big-3 auto makers were not thrilled with this idea because they were getting used to Fannie and Freddie's company under the box car.

      A flushing sound was heard from the men's room as a former President entered the room and mumbled something about filling the house with money-----thinking that this is what "green" means.

     Well, the President listened with total focus to all of this great advice, but after much thought he could see no way that any of the suggestions would really be what was best for the house.

     Way in the back of the room---

---way behind the thousands of other "TOP DOGS" that were sitting, impatiently waiting to share their solution---

---came a gentle           little          voice.  It was the voice of Beverly Bumpkin, from the little town of Boonies.  She said, with the shyness of a puppy with its tail between its legs, "Mr. President----may I buy the house?" 

     This simple question sent a tsunami of shock & awe through the room----people were seen standing with their mouths gaping and their eyes looking like they had a thyroid condition.  The brilliance of the question and the simplicity of the solution were stupefying to say the least-----bordering on "patriotic."

     The President smiled.

Charles Buell