Time To Give It Up

After agonizing hours of deliberation, vacillation and a distinct shrug from my vast constituency, I have decided not to run for Governor. We’ve had a family conference including the pet rock and the dog I don’t have plus a random sampling of customers waiting in line at Costco. 

The sense is that the field is already too crowded with an ex-congreswomen, two ex-mayors, an ex-cabinet secretary, ex-controller, a sitting congressman, a billionaire and assorted others totaling nine candidates.

Perhaps the propitious time has passed me by. I peaked too early having served as wardrobe monitor in kindergarten. (I excelled at sorting galoshes). I was elected milk monitor in 1^st grade and designated pencil monitor in 2^nd grade. Let it be noted that I did not embezzle any of those pennies, nor is it true that I got high on wood shavings. In 7^th grade I was chosen to receive the gift left by the 8^th grade upon graduation and in 8^th grade I was the one presenting the token gift thus demonstrating my ability to give and take. One might say I flamed out in early adolescence.

Now that I have dropped out we need seven other Democrats to take one for the team. Give it up. Flip a coin or have a food fight but the field of worthy names must be whittled down to two. 

The Primary is a mere three months away; this is serious stuff. Apparently none of them are polling more than 20%. By splitting the pie into so many slices, the two Republican candidates are quite possibly going to be the only names on the final ballot. That's the way our California primary system works. It is not one from each party but the two highest vote-getters. This could be a tragedy caused by oversized egos. I'm waiting to hear them drop.

It also pains me to watch the field of Democrats attack each other; all fodder for the Repugnants. There is only one issue for this election and for the ones around the country coming up in November, and again in 2028. That is electability. Who can reach the critical mass of voters with electile dysfunction; too busy taking photos of their french toast to realize where their bread is buttered.

Who would vote for anyone from a party who supports a man whose early record reveals that he ran with scissors, didn't play well with others and threw spitballs? The malignancy of Trump which has metastasized into every aspect of his reign cries out for full triage, an urgency to reverse the wreckage of our democracy. A vote for a Republican is a vote for another sycophant. 

An internecine squabble among Democrats ensures a Republican victory.Those who give it up will be celebrated as martyrs. They can join me playing with galoshes and sharpening pencils.