Maureen Dowd begins:
I hope President Bush doesn’t have any more office wives tucked away in the White House.
There are only so many supremely powerful jobs to give to women who are not qualified to get them.
The West Wing is a parallel universe to TV’s Wisteria Lane: instead of self-indulgent desperate housewives wary of sexy nannies, there are self-sacrificing, buttoned-up nannies serving as adoring work wives, catering to W.’s every political, legal and ego-affirming need.
Maybe it’s because his mom was not adoring enough, but more tart and prickly, even telling her son, the president, not to put his feet up on her coffee table. Or maybe it’s because, as his wife says, his kinship with his mom gives him a desire to be around strong, “very natural” women. But W. loves being surrounded by tough women who steadfastly devote their entire lives to doting on him, like the vestal virgins guarding the sacred fire, serving as custodians for his values and watchdogs for his reputation.
Ms. Dowd continues — Condi, Karen, now Harriet.