Okay . . . I would like to go on record as saying I think Michael Savage is the vilest excuse for a human being. Normally his throbbing-vein-in-the-forehead ranting doesn’t bother me that much, but this afternoon I heard him speak so incredibly rudely to a caller . . . I am still furious.
I’m sure most of you have heard about the little stand-up bit First Lady Laura Bush did at the expense of President Bush. She teased him about his early bedtime and also about trying to milk a horse, and a male horse at that(!) when they first bought the ranch in Crawford. Honestly, it all sounded like good-humored fun between two people who love and understand each other.
Apparently, it was toooooo risque for Savage. I don’t know if Savage has ever been on a farm, but since I was a kid, I’ve heard jokes about the “city slicker” trying to milk a bull or what have you. I’m not going into tons of detail here, but apparently Savage’s imagination made this old joke a lot more perverse than I’m sure the First Lady intended it to be. He equated what she said with the Clintons’ behavior. Somehow I fail to see the similarities between a little good humored fun and the former Boy President getting sperm all over an intern’s dress. It ticked me off that he would be so rude to Laura Bush, who is a class act all the way around.
A woman called in to express pretty much the same opinion I have of the whole situation: The First Lady has a good sense of humor and a strong enough relationship with her husband that they can tease each other without taking offense. Savage literally attacked this woman. He called her an idiot, asked her when her welfare check was going to arrive, and when one of her children cried in the background, made reference to her unwed child (which I surmise in his foaming-at-the-mouth rage he meant to say “illegitimate” child). Then he hung up on her.
The guy is an A #1 jerk — I don’t care how “educated” he professes to be, how many botanical whatevers he’s cataloged, or how many letters he has after his name. He’s a jerk.
My mother-in-law gave us a copy of his book (somehow she ended up with two) . . . I won’t be reading it, and I may be burning it. Somehow I think it would make me feel better . . .