A dedicated young man

A dedicated young man

Why people get in the hunt for elected office when they’ve had more sex partners than Ron Jeremy, or have been known to use a brandy snifter for a cokespoon, is beyond me. Say you’ve had that wildass youth, but you’re all settled down now, except for the occasional weekend bender. At what point do you look yourself in the mirror and say,”Nobody remembers the really funky shit. The Thai stick soaked in chloroform, the midnight leap into the hotel pool from the  balcony, the expensive facial reconstruction surgery. Nah. Water under the bridge. Oh yeah, and the VW you drove over the bridge…”

I’ve never really asked myself those questions, because it’s unnecessary. I don’t delude myself that I have the political temperment. When I walk into a wine store and someone’s kids are throwing their toys at the neat rows of bottles of Chianti and Sangiovese I immediately suffer angina like symptoms because I can’t yell “Which sack of moldy shit here busted the sprog cage?!” , and I have to walk outside to get air. When someone interrupts a motion on a convention floor talking about how a particular candidate used hypnotism to heal a boil on their ass, I don’t interject  “Point of order, Mr. Chairman”, I merely slide down in my seat and ask myself why in the name of God I forgot to bring the pistol this time…For me.

So I was surprised a little when someone suggested at our local  County Democratic Women meeting, that I become chair. One, I’m not a woman, and as the picture above suggests, it’s nothing a hundred dollars will fix. Perhaps even thousands. Two,  I’ve done every recreational drug that was available in the Southeastern US circa 1977-82, except the intravenous ones, because I didn’t have the personal assets. Three, there are people who, rightly or wrongly, have convinced themselves I owe them money /need shooting.

So while I was flattered, after a brief moment of consideration, and my wife hit me in the arm with a clipboard, I declined.