Last night I dreamed that Obama, dressed impeccably in his usual suit, collapsed into my arms, weeping. “I’m overwhelmed by the Forces of Evil!” he sobbed. We were in a golf cart at the time. (Michelle was busy watching “The Aristocats” on TV.)

Pre-bedtime, I’d been reading the New York Times article about how the BP-inflicted chaos might  affect the presidency, which was, no doubt, the trigger for my midnight vision. If that oil keeps a-spillin’, my dream may become reality (although perhaps without yours truly and the golf cart.)

But that might not be such a bad thing, if the King of Cool were to show a little more spill-related rage, sweat, tears and teeth-gnashing. I know Maureen Dowd would like it, and she’s not alone. It wouldn’t hurt for us to see real evidence that Barry is feeling at as frustrated, saddened and helpless as we feel when we see the dead pelicans on TV every night. I mean, we know he feels the pain, we know he cares completely. But knowing is like dreaming. It’s a little insubstantial.

Misery loves company. So, come on Barack. Yes, you are being overwhelmed by the Forces of Evil. Go ahead. Make my dream come true. Let’s see some tear stains on that suit.

I

I’m getting a haircut and ditching my pantyhose. No, I’m not having a midlife crisis (been there, done that). I’m being a good citizen, donating hair and hose to the oil spill cleanup.

It seems that a company in San Francisco is making booms out of pantyhose stuffed with discarded hair, harvested in salons. The log-shaped booms are used to trap oil as it laps shorelines. (I tested the theory about oil adhering to hair last week when I was too lazy to wash-‘n-blow for three days, so I know it’s true.)

My hairy dog Oliver must’ve got the memo on this because he is very generously trying to do his part. He is shedding profusely enough to protect the entire coast of Louisiana.

The company (called Matter of Trust) which is producing the hair-‘n-Hanes booms was having one problem. Nobody seems to wear pantyhose anymore. (I wear them maybe once a year. Can’t speak for Oliver.) Without cast-off hose hey were struggling to meet the current demands for booms, until a certain community in San Francisco pitched in. Now M.O.T. is up to their ears in transves-tights.