Home Dear Polly Dear Polly Mailbag: “Can You Be Pro-BBQ and Pro-Planet?”

Dear Polly Mailbag: “Can You Be Pro-BBQ and Pro-Planet?”

by Tom Foolery
Meet Polly Tix, the no-nonsense, all-knowing guru of political absurdity. With not one, but three master’s degrees in Political Science, Public Policy, and Interpretive Dance (don’t ask), Polly is the ultimate authority on everything from filibusters to fundraising scandals. A self-proclaimed “Professor Emerita of Capitol Chaos,” she’s spent decades decoding the fine art of dodging questions, spinning stories, and surviving bipartisan potlucks. Whether it’s untangling legislative jargon or dissecting the latest Twitter war between politicians who should really know better, Polly delivers advice with a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue. She’s your go-to for navigating the swamp—with humor, a touch of sass, and an encyclopedic knowledge of every scandal since Watergate. Got a question? Don’t worry, Polly knows her sh*t. And if she doesn’t, she’ll fake it better than a campaign promise.

Dear Polly,
I’m a state senator, and I recently posed for a photo op at a groundbreaking ceremony holding the wrong end of a shovel. Now, the internet is calling me “Senator No-Dig” and saying I’m out of touch with the working class. How do I recover from this PR disaster?
– Stuck in the Dirt

Dear Stuck,
First, let me congratulate you on joining the illustrious ranks of politicians whose photo ops have gone hilariously sideways. Recovery is simple: lean into the joke. Post the picture yourself with the caption, “Even when I get it wrong, I’m digging deep for solutions.” Self-deprecating humor goes a long way.

Next, double down on working-class visibility. Show up at a local event and really get your hands dirty—plant a tree, patch a pothole, or, better yet, visit a community garden with a clear label on the shovel this time. Remember, it’s not about the photo; it’s about showing you’re willing to do the work—even if it’s shovel-optional. – Polly

 

Dear Polly,
I work for a congresswoman who insists on doing all her speeches in rhyme. At first, it was quirky and fun, but now every town hall feels like an awkward poetry slam. People are starting to laugh, and I don’t think it’s the good kind. How do I convince her to tone it down?- Rhymed Out in Richmond

Dear Rhymed Out,
Ah, the rare “Dr. Seuss meets Capitol Hill” approach. I get it—it’s hard to keep policy serious when your boss is spitting couplets about infrastructure. My advice? Spin it as a strategic pivot. Tell her, “The rhymes are great, but if we switch to a conversational tone, people will connect with your message even more.”

If she resists, propose a “rhymes-only” section at the end of speeches—her “signature closer.” That way, you preserve her style without turning every policy statement into an open mic night. And if all else fails, maybe lean into it: book her a cameo at a poetry slam and let her see how an audience reacts. Sometimes, reality rhymes better than advice. – Polly

Dear Polly,
I’m an intern for a senator, and I accidentally emailed our press release about a climate bill to a mailing list for a barbecue festival. Now people are asking if the senator is “anti-barbeque.” What do I do?
– Grilled in Georgia

Dear Grilled,
First of all, congratulations on uniting America’s two greatest passions: saving the planet and grilling meat. Here’s your fix: turn the mistake into a win. Draft a follow-up release titled “Cooking Up Climate Solutions” and emphasize how your senator supports eco-friendly grilling innovations, like solar-powered smokers or biodegradable plates.

Next, suggest your boss attend a barbecue festival and shake hands with pitmasters. Have them tweet something like, “Protecting the planet doesn’t mean giving up what we love—like good BBQ and clean air for the next cookout.” If anyone’s still mad, just send them some ribs. Bribes—er, BBQ diplomacy—always work. – Polly

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Tom Foolery, the ingenious mind behind Politicule.com, emerged from a childhood spent dodging the ideological crossfire of political extremes, shaping his satirical brilliance. With one parent addicted to MSNBC and the other to Newsmax, his childhood dinner table felt more like a televised debate than family time. By his teens, he was ghostwriting zingers for politicians and crafting punchlines that stirred Congressional drama and Twitter feuds. A career-ending mishap involving a misread joke and an international incident (don’t ask) sent him wandering the nation, searching for meaning—and a Wi-Fi signal.

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