The Candidate

The Candidate

  by

  T. J. Robertson

  Copyright 2011 T. J. Robertson

  * * * *

  * * * *

  * * * *

  * * * *

  * * * *

  * * * *

  Today I'm announcing that I'm running for President of the United States. Why, you ask. The simple answer is that I've been cursed with being rich. That’s right; I said cursed. Don't laugh. With today's economy in the doldrums, con men are coming up out of the woodwork with all kinds of clever schemes to separate wealthy people from their money. Then, of course, there's America's criminal element. No, I'm not your referring to members of Congress but rather to hard-core felons who wouldn't think twice about kidnapping a man of means and holding him for ransom.

  I became a billionaire the American way. Only instead of hitting the lottery, I married a wealthy woman. Her family made their fortune manufacturing gambling equipment for use in casinos. Whenever I ask her what could have possessed her to marry a guy like me, she simply answers, "I like to take chances."

  If being a millionaire is a bummer, being a billionaire, as I am, is even more of a one. Oh, sure, I admit that I don't have to worry about working at some dull 9-5 job, putting food on the table for my family, or saving enough money to send my kids to college. But everyone--even me, one of the movers and shakers of America--has to have something to get up for in the morning. So, in my case, running for the highest office in the land just happens to be that reason.

  And I’m not going to lie and tell you that the Good Lord told me to run because He didn’t. The truth is that He begged me not to become a candidate. "It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God," He warned.

  With all due respect to the advice of the Good Lord, as a patriotic American, I just can’t stand by and watch this great country of mine going to the dogs. Good heavens! Never in my life have I seen so many ill-tempered, snarling pit bulls. Oh, no I don't mean dogs in the literal sense. I'm talking about the representatives and senators roaming wildly throughout the halls of Congress. I’d advise any citizen to get a rabies shot before going near that place.

  If the spectacle of the partisan yelping and bickering of both Democrats and Republicans in the recent debt-ceiling crisis didn’t convince you that our government is broken and needs to be fixed, I don't know what else will. I say a pox on both their houses and, so, in frustration, I've decided to run for president as an independent. Of course, being a billionaire, I can afford to be independent. Really independent.

  When Congressmen are elected, instead of having them put their hands on the Bible and take the Oath of Office, I'm going to make them put their hands on a lobbyist’s wallet and take the Hypocrite's Oath.

  Unfortunately, the glow of that shining city on the hill that they're so fond of mentioning in their speeches is growing dimmer each day.

  I admit that I voted for Obama in the last presidential election. The only reason I did so was because I thought that his last name was spelled O’Bama and that, like me, he was Irish-American. Okay, so I’m not the sharpest knife in the cutlery drawer. You should know that in running for the office of President of the United States, being an idiot--and I’m not quite there yet--isn't a handicap. To the contrary, history tells us that it increases a candidate's chances of being elected.

  If I’m so unhappy with Congress, why don’t I start my political career by running for a seat in the Senate and, if elected, help clean up the place, you ask. Let me answer your question by first posing one of my own. Do you know that almost half of the Senators are millionaires? Well, I’m a billionaire and, as such, I’d be out of place there. At the risk of sounding elitist, I'm going to say that billionaires are the only ones who should be allowed to run for the presidency and I intend to file legislation which will do just that. Millionaires run for congress; billionaires, for president. Others can apply, of course, for these offices, but they’ll do so at their financial peril.

  So, as you can see, I’m already a trailblazer, an agent of change, who kowtows to nobody. Well, nobody except possibly my wife. Believe me; that little woman can be very persuasive when she wants to be.

  And with me as your president there will be no more need for campaign-finance reform since billionaires, unlike most politicians, don’t need to go out with a tin cup and beg for donations.

  One of the first changes I intend to make is to replace the words written at the base of the Statue of Liberty. You know the ones I mean; they say, "Give me your tired, your poor, and your huddled masses yearning to be free. . . ." Well, I no longer want the dregs and, so, I’m going to replace those words with some new ones such as, "Give me your energetic, your rich, and those yearning to become even richer. . . ."

  Our country is becoming so poor that many of our citizens are immigrating to third-world countries like Somalia and Haiti just so, if I can use military lingo, they can get three hots and a cot. That’s more than they can get here in their own country.

  And speaking of the military, I promise never to start a war. Not because I’m being noble. Perish the thought that anybody would ever accuse me of that. The plain fact is that losers in wars—and revolutions for that matter—seldom pay their debts.

  Warren Buffet, a more compassionate billionaire than I am, wants to help America's poor and middle classes. Recently he was quoted as saying, "My friends and I have been coddled long enough by a billionaire friendly Congress. It's time for the government to get serious about shared sacrifice." Fat chance of that happening with a Senate almost half of whose members, as I've already said, are millionaires.

  What do I intend to do about illegal immigration, you ask. Have you tried to pronounce the names of some of these recent unwanted visitors? Smvz, Crv, Ng, and Vzbrst are just a few of the ones that I've mangled. Under my administration any illegal alien whose last name doesn’t have at least one vowel in it will be deported. Can you believe that some states want to send the children of illegal immigrants to college on scholarships? Well, I don't need to tell you where I'll ship them off to! Of course, if an illegal volunteers for military service and gets killed in action, I'll grant him or her citizenship.

  As for Al Qaeda, he and I went to school together and are best friends. Oh, I’m only kidding. Since people take politics too seriously, I, unlike my good friend, the current speaker of the House, always like to inject a little humor into the world’s oldest profession. Did I say the world’s oldest profession? Well, I misspoke; for, prostitution is the world’s oldest profession. But, so much for splitting hairs. Politics or prostitution--in this country, they both mean the same thing.

  But, speaking of humor, do you know what the favorite tree of John Boehner, the Speaker of the House, is? A weeping willow. Pardon me for laughing, but that was a good one.

  But I digress. I'm sure you're anxious to know what other qualifications I have to become President of the United States. At the risk of appearing boastful, I can honestly say that I'm photogenic--very much so. That trait, of course, comes in handy if you want to be a successful politician. As long as I can remember I’ve been doing commercials for underwear. At an early age I started doing them for Pampers and Huggies; now I’ve switched to making them for Depend products.

  I've appeared in some movies, too. Unfortunately, I've never had a leading role in a box office hit as my hero, Ronald Regan, had in Bedtime for Bonzo. I had a bit part in one called The Absent-Minded Professor but unfortunately I forget the name of the character I played.

  I’m also good at coming up with catchy phrases. That ability is useful to anyone who hopes to enter politics. I'm sure you're familiar with some
of the slogans used in presidential elections long since passed.

  How about "Lips That Touch Liquor Must Never Touch Mine?" No, one of Charlie Sheen's ex-wives didn't utter them; the Anti-Saloon League proclaimed them during the Prohibition Era.

  "In Hoover We Trusted, Now We're Busted." Nowadays progressive Democrats, putting the name of Obama in place of Hoover, are using those words to express their disappointment in our current President but the truth is they had their origin in the national election of 1932.

  "In Your Guts You Know He's Nuts." No, I haven't said that about any of my Republican rivals. I'll swear to it on a stack of Bibles. It was said about Barry Goldwater in the presidential election of 1964.

  In closing let me make a couple of observations. On the one hand, because this is the first time I've ever run for public office, you can be sure that I'm not one of those professional politicians who pose as your servant in order to become your master. On the other hand, the best argument against democracy isn't, in the words of a famous statesman, "a five-minute conversation with an average voter" but rather the possibility--however remote--that a klutz like me could become President of the United States.

  ###