Will the best American President please step forward? Not so fast, Buchanan.
In case you missed it, there was a fantastic piece about poetry on American Presidents in the New York Times this past Sunday. I rather liked the few lines on Rutherford B. Hayes written by James Haug– the following is from “A Day Like Any Other,” published in the Gettysburg Review in 2006:
When Rutherford B. Hayes comes to town,
Squirrels are charmed out of the eaves.
The editor breaks down and sobs.
…
His unrecorded remarks fill the air.
If we venture outside of the world of verse, my favorite celebration of a D-list President has long been They Might Be Giants’ James K. Polk– here’s a video of them performing this song in a Borders Books in my lovely (?) hometown of Braintree, MA for a bunch of fairly energetic and vaguely nerdy children, accompanied by their slightly less energetic and much nerdier parents.
(Note: As a few friends from college and I once discovered, to “James K. Polk” is a lovely euphemism for hogging something a la Manifest Destiny, e.g. “Ricky, can you please stop James K. Polk-ing the sofa? The rest of us need a place to sit down.”)
Optional homework: Write a few lines about a solidly middle-of-the-road President. Post ‘em in the comments, if you’re brave. Make me laugh. Make me cry. Make me fall in love with William Howard Taft all over again.