Beach Bum

Big Guy and the family and I were on our way up to Martha's Vineyard yesterday, when Joe Biden called. He said that he was surprised that Big O had invited half of the press corps up to Martha's Vineyard, but had not him.

As of now, he told Big Guy, his only plans were to spend time in his bunker and watch DVDs of "Monk" since he needs to watch the show at least three times to figure out who committed the crime. This also explains the portable DVD player he brings to Cabinet meetings, which he calls his "laptop without keys," but I digress.

Big Guy said he was sorry about not extending the invitation, and said if Biden could catch a ride, he was welcome to stay with us. Joey said it wasn't a problem; he was already there, having caught a ride with the Secret Service advance team. So guess who has to sleep with him. Right now Bo is looking pretty appealing.

The plans for today are to the Vineyard "Clinton-style ... but without the interns." Big Guy will play a round of golf, take the family down the road for ice cream, invite the press for a clam bake to hear James Taylor perform on the beach, and maybe we'll have Barbra Streisand drop by, too, for another photo op.

Oh, and he'll release his vacation reading list, which will have on it at least five books written by obscure African-American authors, one collection of poems written by a leftist Central American poet, and a book by a self-hating white lesbian economist, who wishes she were a self-hating, Harvard-tenured, African-American lesbian economist.

But he will really just be reading the latest Dan Brown thriller.