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Aunt President

As soon as I gathered a wealth of demonstrable election experience, I considered running for President, and then I remembered that the campaign would last exactly as long as it took a reporter from the New York Times to Google the fact that I have demonstrably failed to manage my own Blogger account. Clearly, a person to be trusted with the nuclear football.

I am at peace with this, however. Once I got past Air Force One (which features a far nicer, larger desk chair than the one in my own house) and the power to be first in line at Disney World and the ability to wear sparkly things at constant state dinners, the grave weight of the job, of the incredible responsibility, would settle in.

First of all, I could never, ever rollerblade again, because I can never rollerblade without windmilling and flailing about at some point, and that is always what Americans like to see in their commander in chief. Also--and I know this isn't as much of an issue, here in the Internet era--but how does the President shop? I need to try on my shoes. I need to wander through a real-life Hobby Lobby in order to make a proper scrapbooking pilgrimage.

I would no longer be allowed to have bad moods. If the President of Zimbabwe is annoying, it's not like I can just sic my pet eagle on him. I'd have to smile and nod and then start off the Easter Egg Roll and then be nice to the Supreme Court and the Vice-President and the Speaker of the House. My preferred habit of dealing with conflict via busting into tears and running away would not serve helpful, I think.

And eating! You guys, the eating! I'm too much of a food princess to be the President. There would be no more of this hurling Trojan Appetizers overboard without declaring war on the entirety of Europe. And where does one stash her Snyder's Cheddar Cheese Pretzel Pieces? Do I really want the entire free world knowing how many bags of those I crash through in a week? It would be four years of nothing but cheese dust all over the carpet of the Oval Office and smears of caramel on signed legislation. I couldn't be buzzed, or wander about naked, or mutter angrily about Faith Hill, or kick people's crutches out from under them, or anything else I do for fun. It is a life of scrutiny, and I go best unscrutinized. For the most part.

great, noble call at: mbe@drinktothelasses.com

P.S. The commenting policy came with me to the new platform. Please review. It likes you already.

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Reader Comments (4)

.".. I couldn’t be buzzed, or wander about naked."


Looks like it's always 'Friday Night Party' at the Hunter Manor!

February 22, 2008 | Unregistered Commenterred pill junkie


You forgot to mention that you could never be POTUS b/c when would you have time to write your blog? And if you did have time to blog, how could you possibly write anything worthwhile when the "anons" out there would be watching for any little thing to trash you on.

Your readers would go into withdrawl and then you'd be responsible for taking away a daily laugh from millions of people.

The world is a much happier place with yu at the computer and not as POTUS, besides you are still too young to even run.

February 22, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterKell Belle

That's a good point, Kelly. It's one thing I'm still TOO YOUNG for.

February 22, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterMB

Dang, Kell Belle totally took my idea.

The rest of your little idiosyncracies, well . . . you only have to hide those until after you're elected. Then the half of the populace who loves you will appreciate your naked wanderings as part of your charm, and the half that hates you will see your Snyder's Cheddar Cheese Pretzel Pieces addiction as a dark and sinister conspiracy against popcorn, or something.

I'm waiting for someone to finally deliver a long-deserved skewer to the sacred cows of politics. That's why I do like John McCain ([in addition to/despite of] the [convictions/qualms] I [may/may not] have against him as a candidate, which would run afoul of the comment policy here in The Tasting Room). McCain seems like the kind of guy who would tell everyone up to and including his vice president to go jump off a ?#&%*!! cliff if they really deserved to be told that. Or if he's in a bad mood. Or if he just felt like it.

We need more cranky, ornery and pissed off in politics, I say. This take-no-positions, neither-confirm-nor-deny crap is for wussies: tell us how you really feel or shut up.

(And yes, I realize I just did that whole say-something-without-saying-anything schtick with my assessment of John McCain above, but this is MB's blog, not mine, and thus I play by her rules.)

February 23, 2008 | Unregistered Commentermike in '16!
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