Thankfully, Bush Never Had an Ax To Grind

By Manuel Roig-Franzia
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, November 27, 2008

President George W. Bush leaves office in 54 days with a sterling legacy.

He has improved living conditions and made innovations.

He has shown real commitment to gender equality.

He has presided over unprecedented growth.

Stay calm. We're not talking about his leadership of the country. We're talking about his stewardship of the National Turkey.

Dubya's approval ratings stink, the economy stinks, being at war stinks, but man, does he have this National Turkey thing down. During eight years in office, Bush has set new standards of quippy, turkey-pardoning glee while saving eight national turkeys -- 280 pounds of potentially mouth-watering deliciousness -- and eight alternates, sometimes called Vice Turkeys.

The importance of having two turkeys at the ready was proved yesterday, when disaster was narrowly averted in this, Bush's final turkey-pardoning moment. The Washington Post has learned that one of the turkeys came down with a cold the night before the pardoning ceremony!

"A little congested," a source involved in the closed-door turkey operation said.

Just like that, the chosen bird was demoted to vice turkey status, and no one would be the wiser.

"Number 2 became Number 1 in the middle of the night," said another source, who asked to be identified only as a member of the turkey-raising family.

And so it was that on a bright, chilly morning in the Rose Garden, President Bush was able to preside smoothly over his last turkey pardoning. This time, mercy was granted to Pumpkin, a strapping 20-week-old, 45-pounder raised in Ellsworth, Iowa, by National Turkey Federation Chairman Paul Hill and his family (the largest suppliers of unpardoned turkeys to the Subway sandwich chain, according to federation spokeswoman Sherrie Rosenblatt).

Bush made no mention of the late-night turkey switcheroo, but he did have reassuring words for Pumpkin and Pecan, the bird that missed its shot at glory because of the sniffles.

"In recent weeks, I've talked a lot about sprinting to the finish," Bush told an audience that included several dozen fidgety schoolchildren. "I've assured these turkeys they will not to be trotting to their finish."

The turkey-pardoning tradition is generally said to date to President Harry S. Truman, though there is much disagreement about its origins. Clinton did it, Daddy Bush did it, Reagan did it, too. But which of those presidents can claim the vast array of accomplishments in this critical environmental and legal area that W. can?

None!

Fussy historians might be lining up to dis Bush as one of the worst presidents in U.S. history, and, frankly, who knows whether they're dead-on or full of stuffing. Rosenblatt might be diplomatically neutral about presidential turkey pardoning -- "every president handles it differently" -- but we're not afraid to say it: Bush's greatness in the realm of turkey pardoning is undisputed. He sets a high bar for President-elect Barack Obama.

Consider these facts, condensed neatly into bullet points suitable for framing on conservative blogs:

· Living conditions.

This year's national turkey and his alternate both kicked back on Pardon Eve at a suite in the Willard Hotel, a serious upgrade over the digs of their recent predecessors, who holed up at the charming, but fading -- and now closed -- Hotel Washington.

Bush's reign also saw an end to the tonally questionable practice of sending pardoned turkeys to live out their days at a place called Frying Pan Park in Fairfax County. Since 2005, the turkeys have been flown in style to Disneyland, where they serve as grand marshals of the theme park's annual Thanksgiving Day parade and reside in Frontierland.

· Innovation.

In a landmark 2003 decision, Bush decided to let Americans vote on the names of the national turkeys, ending years of disenfranchisement.

· Absence of scandal.

Republican It-Girl Sarah Palin pardoned a turkey this month, then conducted an interview while turkeys were being slaughtered behind her in plain view of the camera. The technique involved the use of a "killing cone," which requires workers to stuff a turkey wattle-down through the narrow end of a cone, slice its neck, then hold its legs during the death spasm and bleed-out. (For maximum gore, try the bootlegged, unedited version of the video.)

Contrast that with the master -- no killing cone has ever been spotted at a Bush pardoning ceremony. He also has avoided the use of packaged, decapitated turkeys as props, a staging flourish employed in 1975 by President Gerald R. Ford.

· Gender equality.

In 2002, Bush pardoned the first female national turkey, a beauty named Katie. He did, we feel obliged to add, stroke Katie's back. But, by all appearances, it was consensual.

· Growth.

Pardonable quipping, punning and goofiness have reached new heights under Bush, whose father's turkey-pardon monologues were described in the press as "halting" (1989), "unusually stuffy" (1991) and "wistful" (1992).

In 2001, barely two months after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, Bush noted that Freedom, the national turkey alternate, "is not here because he's in a secure and undisclosed location." He reprised the joke yesterday with Pecan.

Three years after Freedom's spotlight turn, Michael Moore's Bush-bash film, "Fahrenheit 9/11," inspired the president. His account of the election that named the national turkeys Biscuits and Gravy brought down the house, a fact duly noted in this precise White House transcript:

"It was a tough contest, and it turned out some 527 organizations got involved [laughter] -- including Barnyard Animals for Truth. [Laughter.]

"There was a scurrilous film that came out, 'Fahrenheit 375 Degrees at 10 Minutes Per Pound.' [Laughter.]

"Now, it's a time for healing."

And while some migh remember Bush for the term "axis of evil," who can forget his sensitive reflections on the names of the 2006 national turkeys, Flyer and Fryer?

"They're certainly better," he said, "than the names the vice president suggested, which were Lunch and Dinner."