Greetings!

It’s so good to be back after my long hiatus.

As many of you know, I had to suspend this column while I went back east to solve the train wreck on Wall Street and the financial mess created by the subprime mortgage meltdown.

I was greeted warmly by many movers and shakers during my visit, who were happy to see someone interested in putting the “R” in rescue — which, as a letter, is a heck of a lot more useful than the “B” in plumber.

I put a lot of ideas out there on the table, and I’m happy to report that some of them are gaining traction.

Spread the wealth? That was my idea. The basic technique involves getting $20 out of the bank on Monday and trying to make it last until Friday.

I know for some people that sounds nearly impossible — “How can anyone get by on $20 a week?” — but to those folks I say, the

Texaco on the highway sells two corndogs for a dollar on Tuesdays.

Though I fully support the “spread the wealth” approach, I do not support any wacky “share the wealth” theories. Buy your own dang corndog.

Unfortunately, since I was gone, I wasn’t around to write about some of the big developments on the campaign trail over the past couple of weeks.

I missed out, for example, on sharing the exciting news about the first plumber to join a presidential campaign since the Nixon days.

I was really thrilled when Joe the Plumber first burst onto the political scene. Here was a guy who knew which way was up, a vital skill for anyone who has accidentally slipped and fallen into a septic tank.

I liked Joe the Plumber a lot more before I knew his last name, Wurzelbacher. Hearing his last name was sort of like seeing Bozo the clown without his makeup. Which, of course, begs the question: Have you ever seen Bozo the clown without his makeup and Joe the Plumber in the same room, at the same time?

It’s hard to watch a John McCain speech these days without McCain doing a shout-out to Joe the Plumber. It got a little embarrassing the other day when McCain was at a political rally in Ohio and called out for Joe the Plumber in the crowd.

“Joe’s with us today. Joe, where are you? Where is Joe? Is Joe here with us today? Joe, I thought you were here today.”

Everybody looked around, hoping for the little adrenaline rush that only a Joe the Plumber sighting can provide.

After an awkward pause, McCain shouted, “Well, you’re all Joe the Plumbers!”

It reminded me of that old Beatles song: “I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all Joe the Plumbers.”

I guess that would make McCain the Walrus, goo goo g’joob.

Every time I hear the name Joe the Plumber I can’t help but think he’s an escapee from a deck of Old Maid cards.

I can just imagine Choosy Chef, Art Smart and Husky Hank hiding from the Old Maid out behind the barn, talking about their now-famous colleague.

“Anybody seen Joe the Plumber lately?”

“No, but I hear he’s got a big book deal and has signed a contract for a record album.”

“I hope he does a few Beatles covers.”

I didn’t miss everything while I was gone.

I got back in time to enjoy a protest called in my honor outside the newspaper.

When I first saw the angry mob, I thought I was going to get pelted with tomatoes.

This being South Whidbey, however, I knew the tomatoes would be only the finest organically grown, fair-trade harvested, free-range kind of tomatoes.

Quite a few folks were angry, but not enough to actually go out and buy those organic tomatoes. I don’t blame them; those things are expensive. Someone pointed a stalk of celery at me in a threatening manner, but that was as bad as it got.

Thankfully, the demonstration didn’t coincide with the day they have the farmers market in the parking lot. I’ve heard people’s throwing accuracy greatly improves when they are using nonleafy winter vegetables.

At least one person was so upset that he threatened me with legal action.

At least, that’s what I assume when he started talking about getting a “cease to exist” order with my name on it.

Next time: Nice threads.