SS: These are the good years for Jim and me. Tuesday's election got me all inspired so I decided to clean all the junk out of the basement, and I found a diary from college with a poem in it. I wrote it for a boy whose name I've forgotten. "O beloved radiance of the galaxies, your embrace has melted my core, your great waves crash on my rocky shore, I am a grain of sand, an insignificant speck, a pilgrim and you, O magnificent you, are my Mecca." I took it upstairs and started making an apology lasagna for the Johnsons. To make amends for the thing Jim said at their election party.
TR: What's that?
TR: Looks like you dug it out of the trash.
SS: It's just an old diary I threw away.
SS: From before I knew you.
TR: (BRIGHTER) Oh. Who's your mecca?
SS: Nobody you know. -I'm thinking we should call up the Johnsons and apologize for election night -- what do you think?
TR: Oh for crying out loud.
SS: Well, they were upset about what you said.
TR: What did I say?
SS: You said, "What else is on?
TR: I just got tired of everybody talking about how historic it was and suddenly everybody looks at me like I'm a skinhead.
SS: So it was historic.
TR: But we've seen this moment coming for six months. By the time it got there, it felt like it happened a long time ago.
SS: Jim. I wonder if you've been getting enough ketchup.
TR: Huh ?
SS: Ketchup contains natural mellowing agents that help you accept that there are right moments and wrong moments.
TR: So who's this -- "O magnificent you, are my Mecca."?
SS: It was a long time ago, Jim.
RD (SINGS): These are the good times
A nation wakes at dawn
To find a brand-new President
And new snow on the lawn.
Life is flowing
Like ketchup on Croutons
GK: Ketchup, for the good times.
RD: Ketchup, ketchup.