F R O M T H E A R C H I V E S
REVIEWS OF
MY DAYDREAMS.
BY T.G. GIBBON
- - - -
TITLE: "Hail to President Tom"
WHEN: Without fail, I have gotten this daydream while watching
20/20 or 60 Minutes any time in the last 13 years.
SYNOPSIS: With epic scope, this 43-second fantasy follows
me
through several grueling political campaigns and concludes with my
years
as a widely admired and distinguished elder statesman. Retirement
suits
me, I have to say, and my accomplishments while in office were great
and
lasting, such as nationalizing industry and education, eliminating
poverty, and formulating a powerful foreign policy, all with my
winning,
if disturbingly flip, personal style. Plus I enjoy JFK-like
adoration from
female citizens.
EVALUATION: A common premise for the politically aware
delusions-of-grandeur set but somewhat redeemed by my no-apologies
leftist
ways and wickedly snide comments at debates. (America laughed as I
destroyed a few dedicated fascists with just a few well-placed
bon mots.) All in all, however, a bit pompous. Do I really expect
myself
to believe a president with holes in the elbows of his jackets? Do
women
have to like me in all my daydreams? Grow up, Tom!
- - - -
TITLE: "Tom Under Fire"
WHEN: At home, watching the television, I get up to go to the
bathroom or
kitchen.
SYNOPSIS: I'm back in World War I and right in the thick of all that
fighting that was so popular then. I run through an elaborate trench
system in Flanders. I think it's Flanders. Looks like Flanders.
Could be Picardy. Ends with me getting shot in the face just when my
side
is on the cusp of victory.
EVALUATION: The mournful tone that springs from its subterranean
milieu is
punctuated and brought to a transcendent conclusion by the
narrator's
death, which hovers between suicide and heroism, in what is at best
an
ethical gray area. Still, a touching and exciting romp. A boy's
adventure
fantasy by way of Sartre, with a touch of martyrdom for spice and
tears.
- - - -
TITLE: "Welcome Back, Tom"
WHEN: On the bus. Payday.
SYNOPSIS: At some point I go to graduate school and return to my
high
school to teach history. In the classroom I deliver enchanting
lectures,
each predicated on the importance of memorizing names and dates.
They eat
it up, the students. Later, in my capacity as the most popular
dormitory
master ever, I lounge around turning the kids on to "free-thinking."
The
boys are enchanted by my beautiful wife, and the girls are more than
mildly intrigued with my jet-setting lifestyle and effortless
self-confidence. Soul-searching third act has me wondering whether
to send
my son to this school. Will it be too awkward for him to be under
his father's
considerable shadow?
EVALUATION: A pastoral piece with enough Goodbye, Mr. Chips
to carry it along for a while. But several important questions are
left
unanswered: Will institutional life make me conservative? And what
happens
when my wife and I get old and less attractive to the kids? Will my
charisma diminish? Will they even want me as a dormitory master?
Satisfying on the surface, but does not hold up under scrutiny.
Isn't it
just a death-in-life-meets-perpetual-adolescence scenario? Also
bears
uncomfortable similarities to the "distinguished former statesman"
sequence of the above presidential fantasy.
- - - -
NEXT TIME: Reviews of "Tom's Suicide" and "Tom, the Celebrity of Some
Renown."
- - - -
OTHER McSWEENEY'S FEATURES:
- - - -
Reviews of My Daydreams By T.G. Gibbon
My New Street Taunts, Vol. I: The Things Which I Will Do to You, If You Cross Me By Amie Barrodale
Current Releases By Billy Kimball
The Dance Lesson By Tim Carvell
Ask a Former Professional Literary Agent, Part Five By John Hodgman
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