Oh Mike,
You don't rest do you?

I haven't gone anyplace yet but hope to soon!!!!

Just think, when you grow up and learn to vote you to can vote three
times.

OH Mike, I didn't know you missed so much???

You know Bust is a very smart man, here is a little story from the onion
about him.

Enjoy my friend!!

WASHINGTON, DC-President Bush delighted an intimate gathering of White House
dinner guests Monday, regaling the coterie of dignitaries, artists, and
friends with a spirited, off-the-cuff discussion of the Roman poet Virgil's
lesser-known works.

"Ah, W. was in top form tonight," Spanish foreign minister Josep Pique Camps
said. "We were all held captive by his erudition and charm. First, a brief
history of the opium trade, then a bit of Brahms on the piano, then a
rousing discussion of Virgil. That boy is a wonder, isn't he?"

According to guests, the subject of Virgil arose serendipitously, when a
servant opened a window in the Red Room, to which the group had retired for
after-dinner drinks. Noticing the breeze, Bush raised his glass and
delivered a toast to the changing of the seasons. He then apologized to
"lovely Winter," explaining that he "meant no slight against her."

"The first blush of Spring always reminds me of Virgil's words," Bush said.
"In early spring-tide, when the icy drip / Melts from the mountains hoar,
and Zephyr's breath / Unbinds the crumbling clod, even then 'tis time /
Press deep your plough behind the groaning ox / And teach the
furrow-burnished share to shine."

"Book One of The Georgics, of course," Bush added.

Bush arranged the small, informal dinner in honor of Camps' unexpected
arrival in America.

"It had been too long since I'd heard one of W.'s anecdotes, so I simply got
on a plane," Camps said. "I showed up at his doorstep with a watercolor by
Ignat Bednarik, whom I know he adores, just to make sure he'd let me in."

Bush confessed that he has "long held a fascination with the classical
world," noting that his love of Roman history influenced his decision to
enter politics.

"Virgil was born in the year 70 B.C.-let's see, that would be during the
consulship of Gnaeus Pompeius The Great and Marcus Licinius Crassus, if I'm
not mistaken," Bush said. "It is said that while Virgil's mother was with
child, she dreamt she gave birth to a laurel branch, which, upon touching
the ground, sprang up into a full-grown tree, its branches laden with ripe
fruits and flowers. The next morning, she gave birth to Virgil. The legend
goes that Virgil was born without crying, so mild was his countenance."

According to White House regulars, it is not uncommon for Bush to engage
guests in discussions of whatever subject strikes his fancy, from the
symphony playing in the background to the history of a style of jewelry a
guest happens to be wearing.

"I love to hear George hold court on this or that," said Bush family friend
and world-renowned physicist Norberta Münter. "I tell him he is such a
spoiled brat, the way he demands our attention, but I must confess I can't
take my eyes off him when he does."

As the group sipped apple martinis and, in Bush's words, "recovered" from
the Chilean sea bass, the president continued.

"Most primarily associate Publius Vergilius Maro with The Aeneid," Bush told
guests. "Yet so much pleasure is to be found in his lesser-known works-The
Eclogues, completed in 37 B.C., and The Georgics, in 30 B.C., both of which
praise the idyllic rural life."

"You have to remember I'm a bit of a farm boy myself," chuckled Bush,
referring to his 1,600-acre ranch in Crawford, TX.

"The Bucolics are my personal favorite," Bush said. "They were basically a
thank-you to Asinius Pollio for preventing the seizure of Virgil's land by
the Triumvirate when they ordered the lands on the far banks of the river Po
distributed to veterans of the victory at Philippi. They are so sublime, so
inspirational. But why should I speak, when Virgil can do so himself? And
far more eloquently, I might add."

Bush then recited a selection from The Bucolics in the original Latin,
pausing occasionally to translate into French out of respect for his friend
Amélie du Maurier, a young Parisian concert violinist in attendance. Earlier
in the evening, a blushing du Maurier admitted to Bush that she did not know
Latin. Bush eased the young woman's embarrassment with a joke.

"I wouldn't be surprised if your father forbade you from learning Latin, out
of sheer distaste for res publica," said Bush, alluding to du Maurier's
ancestors' place in the ousted French aristocracy.

Despite urging from dinner guests to continue his Bucolics recitation, Bush
declined.

"I have already taken up far too much of your valuable time with my
classical nattering," Bush said. "I dearly wish I could give you back this
hour during which you so graciously indulged my dilettantism, but, as
Plautus said, 'Factum est illud, fieri infectum non potest.' Done is done,
it cannot be made undone."