Dear Diary: As I sat down to my Froot Loops this morning, my iPresidentophone blared the Red Army Choir version of The Volga River Boatmen. I was expecting the call after seeing NBC's Al Roker talking about a gathering Siberian storm predicted to create havoc as it infiltrates North America and distorts the Polar Vortex. This must be what I was taught about in Kenya/ Hawaii High school history -- a Cold War battle of the kind at which Ronald Reagan excelled. I called for White House videographer Pete Souza and then I turned on my phone's speaker. Sousa positioned himself in the notorious Clinton closet. As the camera rolled, I declared loudly: " Mr Putin: Tear down that storm!" He replied: "Son of a Vitch, Obama...What the hell are you smoking?" Which somewhat detracted from the effect I was seeking. I caught Souza's eye and ran a a finger across my throat. He nodded, understanding that I wanted a cut at that point. ( Of course, I never interfere with the media.) But enough about me.
