Everybody's Doing It

After agonizing hours of deliberation, vacillation and a distinct shrug from my vast constituency I have decided not to run for President. We’ve had a family conference including the pet turtle and dog we don’t have plus a random sampling of customers waiting on line at Costco and the sense is that the field is already too crowded with senators, mayors, governors, ex-Cabinet Secretary, a caffeinated billionaire and a spiritual adviser.

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. In high school I accepted a post to head the ticket squad along with my friend, Stan, which ingratiated us to the math teacher. One might say I flamed out in adolescence.

My resume might also include three years as editor of the John Tracy Clinic newsletter as well as being the guy arranging for speakers at the Valley Unitarian Fellowship. When I brought in a black-listed screenwriter it caused a rift between the wealthy supporters and the rest of us.

Aside from all that I have little baggage unless one counts all those miracle healings as a pharmacist whose outcome was uncertain. I never found out if the patients lived happily ever after or didn’t make it to their next refill. There is always the chance those are the orphans and widows who have unfriended me on Facebook.

As the months roll on I expect the number of candidates, now about ten, will double. Once again we shall be faced with the seemingly unelectable Progressive versus the so-called Centrist with the big bankroll likely beholden to power brokers. Anyone not named Trump would suit me fine even though my preference is for a Democratic Socialist. 

Who would vote for man whose early record reveals that he ran with scissors and didn't play well with others?

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 and a restoration of dignity and decency. I expect to waver between the certainty of his defeat by a Biden-like substance and the long overdue candidate who truly hears the grievances of the under-served (Bernie, Elizabeth, Kamala)… take your pick). Is there a pulse in the body politic or is it in a moribund trance? Is it sufficiently aroused or still mesmerized? Will we continue to suffer from Electile Dysfunction?

I may have to take my wood shavings into the closet among the galoshes sipping chocolate milk to get a proper read.