Greenspam wants to do what?
Do the Greenspams really see themselves as being all that important? Not him—after one of his bouts with Congress he’s tired, wants to sit down, lean back on the green bales and do nothing. I’ll bet he says things like "I get so bored manipulating those people on the hill" or "It’s always the same. They sit like a bunch of hungry sea lions with their tongues hanging out barking for me to throw them fish. I feel like an employee at the National Zoo."
Can you picture Andrea? She’s always deep in serious thought. Been around Washington so long she’s not the least bit impressed by the goings on. I’ll wager she’s into furniture. Probably saying something like, "Al, I’m sick of sleeping on money. We’ve been married long enough to have some decent furniture. I want a real bed, a sofa, maybe a couple of wingback chairs. Let’s go shopping,"
With Alan it’s reflex, "Furniture? Furniture doesn’t make money. Why blow our money when we can sleep on someone else’s?" He’ll give her those "rainy day, interest rate too low, I might lose my job," stories.
Mrs. Greenspam has a snappy "I earn money for rainy days. You control the interest rate, jobs are a dime a dozen."
Do you think Alan will give up? No, he’s a fighter, listen: "I can’t imagine living on your writer’s income and I’m certainly not going to work for the kind of money other people get, especially after I raise the discount rate. Can you imagine me, a Doctor, working alongside the common people who didn’t get a raise because of what I did or didn’t do?"
That kind of talk will get Mrs. Greenspam angry. "Listen Al, don’t knock my profession. You could do worse than live on a writer’s income. And no, I can’t imagine your working with real people. I have another job in mind."
You’d think at this point Alan Greenspam would cave in and say "OK, you win, we’ll buy furniture." Instead he pleads, "Another job? I only do two things well, Andrea; It’s ‘up a quarter point’ or ‘down.’ I’m not holding back, Honey. That’s the whole shebang. My whole life is built on up and down. There’s nothing else in the wagon."
It’s the break she’s waiting for. She really wants that furniture. "Al, Baby, you have all you need for the job I have in mind. Some may laugh but, we really are ‘America’s Sweethearts’, surrounded by wealth, making love, and you’re certainly the master when it comes to suspending belief. Don’t you realize what the mob was shouting at the Capital? They screamed for you. It’s not just McCain—all the politicians want to hug you, everybody in the whole wide world wants to hug you and," she kissed his cheek, "I want to hug you."
Allan felt her warm breath. "You mentioned a job?"
"From now on keep your hearing aid on high, baby. If you had heard the mob on the Capital steps yelling ‘Alan Greenspam, he de man, Alan Greenspam, he de man.’ you’d know what I’m talking about …".
‘That job, Andrea?"
"Yes Al, that job. You can be--- President!
Excuse me, I must stop writing for a moment. My wife’s shouting about breaking news on TV. He did what? Resigned? He wants to do what?

Are the Greenspams America's Sweethearts?
See them holding hands as they walk up Pennsylvania Avenue. At15th Street and New York Avenue watch them turn left, across from old Riggs Bank, to approach the hallowed, ornate, black iron gates of our Nation’s most sacred place: the Treasury of the United States of America. The Washington Monument soars in the backdrop, a reminder of the Presidency. The White House is across the street to the West. Two guards with rouged cheeks wearing red, white and blue toy soldier uniforms, leftovers from the Nixon show, swing open the gates then stand at attention. Hand in hand, Andrea and Alan take big steps across the stone walk to the hammered bronze doors and on entering, fade into welcoming darkness.
Inside they wander to the sub-vaults of the Treasury where we find them embracing surrounded by romantic stacks of our money. Intrigue? Follow them far underground to the secret passage leading to the White House air raid shelter. There they meet with other Fed bankers to hammer out vague fiscal lingo shot with fiduciary Latin for presentation to bewildered congressmen. Cut to the next scene. The Economaster is telling our elected vassals that he might, (he’s a real actor,) or he might not, (what a devil,) raise or lower the interest rate. The film ends when Alan Greenspam receives a standing ovation. Triumphant, he walks with wide-eyed worshipping Andrea down the steps of the Capitol through the adoring crowd. They climb into a glistening black bulletproof limo. The proper chauffeur closes the door and as the sweet sounds of Ray Charles singing ‘America, the Beautiful’ seduce our souls. America’s Sweethearts wave one more time, roll up the tinted window and disappear up Pennsylvania Avenue to return to their love nest in the Treasury. What a movie! I’m shaking with emotion. Secret stuff!-- next week.

D.C. MOCKINGBIRD