Jeeves to the Voter Rescue

The headstone for all and sundry to peruse does duly prescribe RIP … Rest in Peace. But if you could ask the person over whose head this vertical slab of marble is approximately positioned, he would dismiss it as presumptive verbiage.

Bertram Wilberforce Wooster, formerly of 6A, Crichton Mansions, Berkeley Street, London W1, has been ill at ease for considerable time, overcome by the guilt of not doing his civic duty of participating in the democratic process, especially through joining related discussions at the Drones club.

In such moment of unease, where he considers that at least in his case, RIP denotes, Ruing in Penance, Bertie to his nearest and dearest, did what he had instinctively done all his years when he dwelt above his present grassy abode. He asked for Jeeves.

Of course, under the present circumstances, Jeeves was not in a state to shimmer in with the elixir that lifted his spirit, but given the resourcefulness of the gentleman’s gentleman, he could arrange a meeting of their spirits.

Jeeves, never to disappoint his master, especially when the call is of grave nature, soon arranged a meeting in upturned glass tumblers in the smoking room of Augustus "Guss" Fink-Nottle VI, the great grandson of Bertie’s lifelong friend, Augustus "Gussie" Fink-Nottle.

“Sir, you desired to discuss some matters of concern that seemed to be weighing on your chest. I am afraid with the six-foot of soil atop, chests do feel weighed under.”

“Jeeves, I am deeply perturbed with the happenings in our Sceptered Isle. Some bard too wrote to this effect…”

“Indeed, Sir, William Shakespeare spoke of it, ‘This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England’”

“Exactly. By now, I believe that consequent to his binning by the Monarch, Drones Club too would have removed from its register, Andrew Albert Christian Edward, who I believe is now known as a former prince. I understand prior to this, the only person to be identified such was an American musician.

“Jeeves how do you measure this wild haired Boris Johnson… indeed a strange name for a subject of Her Majesty, rather more appropriate for a courtesan of one of the Czars Nicholas. The other day, I heard he was saying sorry to the Monarch for being naughty.”

“Indeed Sir, I am given to understand that certain sections of English public hold the English Eccentric in great esteem and enjoy having them around and feel that they add a little color to life.”

“So, Jeeves that explains his messy blonde hair, and that too with a constant look of shock and surprise. But in better times messy hair was a sign of a general attitude of negligence.

“Indeed Sir. The trouble in not just within our shores...”

“I understand that in some two years, America is headed toward a contest between former President Donald Trump… doesn’t he look so much like Mr. Johnson?”

“Precisely Sir.”

“And I am given to understand that the other contestant throwing her hat… or with whatever, women are crowning their heads these days in America, in the ring, is no other than the former aspirant to… definitely throne is not the word… Hillary Rodham Clinton. I understand that the former will be clocking 77 years on earth then, and the latter 76. Doesn’t America have any young men vying to lead their fellow countrymen?”

“I am afraid Sir, the great grandson of my cousin James, the one who sailed to America, in his capacity as Lord Broadwaite B. Broadwaite’s gentleman’s gentleman. Indeed, in that vast realm, His Lordship founded the Broad B Burger. In the most recent past, His Lordship’s great grandson sold his interest in that establishment to a hedge fund by the name of Birdbush…”

“Jeeves, are these hedge funds related to some branch of horticulture?”

“Sir, I am afraid not. The knowledge I gleaned on my way here is that they relate to finance…”

“Ah, so I was mulling the question why no younger souls are stepping forward to bear the burdens of statecraft.”

“Sir, the same great grandson of the cousin James opines that most young men in America are far too consumed dabbling with some sort of object, known as Bitcoin. This young man, who now heads a lobbying firm in Washington, D.C., a uniquely American profession which relates to taming politicians to fetch the desired, like one trains dogs, says that the great majority of Americans believe their democracy is at risk of extinction…”

“Jeeves, I believe the situation demands that you reserve a passage to America with Aunt Agatha to straighten out things for them. Jeeves it is Aunt Agatha with her brush on the ready to inflict corporal punishment, and you with your intelligence, who can correct the way America votes.”

[With apologies to the master, P.G. (Pelham Grenville) Wodehouse, 1881-1975]