The Scottsdale Real Estate Files: You say potatoe, I say potato.

This is by far the most entertaining election cycle I have ever seen.  If not for the economic quagmire and two grueling wars in which we are embroiled, I would be endlessly amused. 

Who am I kidding?  I am amused nonetheless.

We now take you semi-live to the action.

In the blue corner, weighing in at 60 pounds soaking wet, we have the challenger from Illinois, by way of Hawaii, Indonesia and Kenya.  Put your hands together for Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarack Obaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaama!

In the red corner, standing three feet, four inches tall, fighting out of the Crustaceous Era, please give a warm round of applause for John “Did I Mention I Was a P.O.W?” McccccccccccccccccccccCain!

As the bell rings, Obama immediately breaks into the Ali Shuffle.  Bobbing, weaving, floating like a butterfly. 

McCain charges across the ring and immediately decks the referee.

It’s apparent that Obama has the benefit of speed and instinct, not to mention a seventeen inch reach advantage.  McCain meanwhile wades in with ferocity and guile. 

No punches have been landed at this point as McCain seems to have trouble catching up to the speedster from Harvard, while Mr. Intellectual Elite does not seem particularly interested in mixing it up with the beer heiress’s husband.

DING!

The combatants return to their corners.

In the Blue Corner, Obama’s trainers appear to be pleading with their fighter to fight.  They are pointing across the ring at his opponent.  “He’s tired, champ!  Look at him!  His punches are wild, he’s not moving his head!  He’s wide open for chrissakes!  Let your hands go!”

Now let’s check in with the Red Corner.

“You’re killing him, champ!  You’re killing him!  Keep busting him up on the inside with that earmark pen!  You gotta get closer, though.  The ref can see the fouls when you’re on the outside trading quips!  Get in close where you can hit him with the lobbyist ties!  The judges won't be able to see yours!”

Strong words from Rick Davis, indeed.  I hear Fanny and Freddy will be holding his purse if their guy takes a dive.

DING!

The fighters emerge from the corners.  Obama is up on his toes again.  He sure seems to have the float like a butterfly part down pat.  Grace in motion he is.  His corner is screaming at him to remember the sting like a bee part.

McCain is back after him with a vengeance.  Determined to chase his foe “to the gates of Hell,” we in the booth think that means President Bush’s sensory deprivation chamber, but we can’t be sure. 

Wait … what’s this???

Some hockey mom has climbed atop the top rope!  She is coiling to leap on the young Senator.  Looks like she is wielding a gigantic side of ham!  This could be exactly what the flagging Senator from Arizona needs to finally corral his elusive foe!

Swinging the pork as she launches herself at the fighter in the blue trunks, she’s shrieking something about reaching across the aisle to smack the taste out of his mouth.  I must say that she is not hard on the eyes.  Quite a lovely shade of lipstick.  I’m being told by producers that she is an undefeated cage fighter from Alaska.  What she is doing ringside at a major venue like Madison Square Garden for the heavyweight championship of the world, I have no earthly idea.

The challenger looks stunned.  He was evidently not briefed for this departure from script.  Deftly stepping out of the way, however, the Alaskan Assassin lands only a glancing blow.  She is rooted to the canvas by that side of ham.  Looks like she has been felled by the very same pork product that had been hoped to decapitate the leftist media darling.  If we can get past her handlers, we’ll have plenty of questions for this interloper after tonight’s festivities.

DING!

Obama looks shaken.  While the assault from the top ropes was quickly evaded, McCain appears to have been emboldened by the tough talking simpleton from the north.  At least she would drown out that heckling buffoon in the fourth row.  Eat that, Biden.

The red corner is telling their guy that he looks great.  The young guy will fold.  He has no experience in the late rounds.  Get him into the deep water, and he’s ours.  Hit him with the lobbyist stuff again, says the deregulatory lobbyist.

The blue corner is slapping their guy fully across the face.  “Do you want to win, damn it?  Do you want to win?  It’s yours for the taking!  His own corner hates this guy!  All you have to do is throw your punches!  Please!  For the love of God, stop turdling and fight this guy!”

DING!

Obama is up on his toes again.  Feeling his oats, he’s starting to tentatively flick his jab out there.  He’s a good ten feet away from his target, but it’s something.

McCain, meanwhile, looks gassed.  He just cold-cocked the liberally biased ref for the fifth time.  He doesn’t know whether to drill, regulate or bomb Iran.  He looks like a caged animal.

Obama is starting to hammer away with that jab now.  He’s really peppering him with Bush references and corrections every time McCain throws that misinformation haymaker.

But wait!  McCain has finally caught up to his slick challenger!  He’s got him in a corner.  The young Congressman is holding on for dear life as Karl Rove proteges try to pin McCain’s economic voting record on the erstwhile challenger!  Vicious one-twos of “You don’t have any experience in Washington” and “You are a Washington insider crony!” 

Obama finally breaks free, and McCain trips over himself in zealous pursuit!  Upon rising, McCain trips again!  He’s completely disoriented!  He’s calling the fight game fundamentally strong and demanding the resignation of the New York State Boxing Commission in response to the last De La Hoya performance!  This is getting ugly!

What’s he doing??!!

He’s saying “No mas!”

McCain is saying “No mas!”

There is pandemonium in the ring!  Obama is dancing around the ring with his arms raised, screaming at McCain to keep fighting!  He’s suddenly throwing vicious shadow punches now that the contest has been halted!  McCain and his handlers are demanding that the judges hold onto their scorecards!  They want the fight postponed until after he flies to New York to tape a couple of interviews, before heading to the capitol the storm about Congress with no clear role. 

This is what I call being Heavyweight Champion!

Forget mucking up delicate sparring sessions when no one in the gym has seen your mug since April, it’s big boy time!  This is a nation that demands our leaders act busy. 

Quick!  Crumple a beer can against your melon and fire someone!  Anyone!

Obama is still standing in the ring!  He refuses to postpone the fight.  Oddly enough, despite vowing to stop fighting until the current crisis has been abated, McCain is hurling programs and concessions at his opponent as he leaves the arena, and appears on television seventy eight times in the next five minutes announcing his rescue efforts on behalf of the global economy. He thinks he may have also discovered Colonel Sanders' secret recipe and cured cancer along the way.

Damn, should have paid more attention in Finance 101!

Back in the ring, Obama starts fighting the hot dog vendor.

The Alaskan Assassin emerges from the Dick Cheney safe and is mercilessly attacked by the ruthless Katie Couric with such bombastic questions as, “What exact foreign policy experience do you have?”

With no resolution in place, McCain returns to MSG to resume the fight.  It is a clever ploy. Obama is cold and tight now.  His movements aren’t as crisp, and the older McCain is able to keep pace in the rhetorical pugilistics.  Now that the man in red is anxious to scrap again, Obama appears weary of the conflict.  He keeps reaching for the post-fight hug even though it is only round four.  For some reason, he is unwilling to throw the highly anticipated "Keating 5 Bolo Punch."

Looks like this one is going to go the distance folks, but we are out of time for this broadcast.  We will now return to the regularly scheduled airing of “Heidi.” 

From Wall Street to Main Street, I bid you goodnight.