The Foreign Service Journal, July-August 2006

President Kotazo hugged the con- gressman, then turned to the ambas- sador. “This man is my dear brother Beetdigger!” He pumped the ambas- sador’s hand. “We are so filled with gratitude to the United States for send- ing this distinguished envoy fromBSU. My entire country will forever be filled with warmest adoration for the United States, its people and its enlightened policies!” The congressman howled with delight. “Why didn’t you tell me in the first place the president here is a fellow Beetdigger!” A t the airport the next morning, an honor guard from the Presiden- tial Palace stood at attention on the tar- mac as the embassy vehicles pulled up. A military band played a surprisingly peppy version of “Georgia on My Mind.” And while Rep. Wigenrath was not actually from Georgia, he smiled graciously at the gesture. At the door to the plane, the con- gressman patted Amb. Vodel on the shoulder. “Thanks for everything. That Kotazo’s a great guy — said he’s looking forward to signing a bunch of new agreements with us.” He turned to Lloyd. “And I don’t know what kind of exchange program he was on, but you just let me know and I’m going to go back and get double the funding for it!” Overcome, Lloyd threw his skinny arms around Rep. Wigenrath in a weepy embrace. “You may not be my congressman,” he sniffed, “But you touched me like my own member!” Mandi Wigenrath, her hair re- teased to its full glory, planted a bright- red kiss on Lloyd’s cheek. “This man has the body of a beaten-down bureaucrat but the heart of a dancer!” she announced. She mouthed Lloyd a thank-you for the emu oil, and tot- tered on her stiletto heels up the stairs into the aircraft. As the pilot started up the engines, the congressman leaned over and whispered to Amb. Vodel, “Hope Kotazo enjoys the token of our friendship I left for him.” Mandi shrieked from the plane, “Where’s my jackalope?” “Take it easy, Mandi!” the congress- man growled, as he climbed into the plane. “There are always more jack- alopes.” J U LY- A U G U S T 2 0 0 6 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 43 She mouthed Lloyd a thank-you for the emu oil, and tottered on her stiletto heels up the stairs into the aircraft.