Last week, in the first of our three-part account of how we spent our summer vacation, we noted several potential setbacks to the conservative juggernaut. The first of these, the California recall, presents the party with two chimerical outcomes. One being that the recall doesn't succeed, and the other that it does.

To the oft-stated fear that a Schwartzenegger victory would be a nightmare outcome, we say, "Pish Tosh!" and are prepared to add "Piffle!" We adhere to the belief that, as in the case of Minnesota and Florida, every state has an inalienable right to be led by an incompetent, self-serving buffoon. Why should it not be California's turn? Anything else would be discriminatory. If Conan the Bavarian is to be governor, then we say, "Bring 'im on!"

But all misgivings regarding the Gubernator pale in comparison to the larger threat posed by rapidly plummeting public confidence in our President. The Top Gun's prosecution of the Iraq war and his explanations of its origins are evermore being taken with boulder-sized grains of rock salt. It seems that we the public have turned skeptical, incredulous, mistrusting and are, as it were, rent with dubiety.

How unfair! After all, the war is over (we have the President's own word for that), and is no longer an issue. we will, however, admit to the teensiest bit of discomfiture over the question of presidential probity in the days leading up to the war.

Which is now over.

Except for the continued shooting and killing.

And all those dead people.

To better understand, shall we take a brief stroll down the footpath of history? Yes, let's.

It was the summer of 2002 and national anger was mounting, as corporate accounting scandals seemingly oozed out of every boardroom and the economy lurched about like an overripe heavyweight. Our Glorious Leader had become the central figure in a cynical Enron-style stock fraud, and his reputation was plunging like a Dior neckline. And despite frantic efforts to shield him from the glare of unwanted disclosure, reporters continued to root him out like a truffle.

Sensing imminent disaster, the White House seized upon a desperate diversionary tactic. They put it about that the second cousin of someone on the White House staff had been told by his brother-in-law that an acquaintance had overheard a passenger on his bus say that a friend's mother-in-law had talked with someone who had read something about a television newscast in which someone had theorized that an Iraqi letter carrier had once spoken to a guy who had met Osama Bin Laden at a freshman mixer at Saudi Arabia A&M.

With evidence this strong, it was only a matter of weeks before the President went before a special session of the UN to demand multilateral military intervention in Iraq. A week or so later, Prime Minister Tony Blair, paying off what we assume was a gambling debt, joined the United States in declaring that Iraq was an emergent threat to world order, and besides that was a generally annoying place. This satisfied the President's demand for multilaterality, and Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld and other key administration personnel immediately set about turning Jacque Chirac's smile upside down.

And in no time at all, the President and his subalterns succeeded in alienating the entire civilized world and several tribes along the Amazon River. And in May of this year, after a few tense moments in which peace threatened, the United States and Britain, assisted by the awesome military might of dread war powers Bulgaria and Spain (they used to have a pretty nifty armada, you know) invaded the erstwhile Mesopotamia. And, in practically no time we had achieved a stunning victory--if you didn't count the one or six times we almost lost--and on May 1st (appropriately May Day) the President proudly proclaimed the war over and another great victory for America.

Except for the continued shooting and killing.

And all those dead people.

And, of course the lack of an exit strategy--although we remind you that the leaders of this war are highly intelligent people, and that if we had had an exit strategy, you can bet it would have been brilliant!

Now, as you will know, we are among the most ardent of the President's admirers. We have always regarded him to be Number One or even Number Two. But even we must admit to a tiny, fretting suspicion that the entire war was little more than a Weapon of Mass Distraction. There was something--call it an eerie familiarity--in the panicky assurances of ultimate victory, the uncertain credentials of war, the beads of sweat along the upper lips of the explainers--that smacked of Nixon at his finest.

Not, of course, to say that there is any similarity between this war and the Indochina unpleasantry. The two conflicts are not even remotely similar. The Vietnamese war was an artful bit of political hokum staged by unprincipled men who took advantage of fictitious reports to create a gratuitous slaughter of the innocent for personal and illusory national gain. It was a; a witless havoc that had no exit strategy other than defeat, and no discernible reward other than to tear us apart as a nation.

The Iraq war is nothing like that! Think about it: the Vietnamese war was fought in Vietnam. And the Iraqi war is being fought where? In Iraq! Yes!

And even more telling, "Vietnam" begins with a "V," whereas "Iraq" does not! Case closed, Mr. and Mrs. America. Think about that the next time you go criticizing the President!

Next week we conclude our estival reminiscence with this question, would Benjamin Franklin have been a PATRIOT?