The year that Bill Clinton was inaugurated, Margaret and I bought a condominium in Arizona. I promised her I would not get involved in politricks. Like a good politician I broke my promise and became President of my Home Moaners Association. At my first meeting I introduced my wife as the only homemoaner who didn’t vote for me.
During my career in advertising and marketing I had been involved in 38 political campaigns and won 34. That did not include my two runs for Mayor of Seattle. In the State of Washington a “political consultant” could get away with crossing aisles. You didn’t need to declare yourself a Democrat or Republican. When I had a winning streak of 11 going, I got a call from the Republicans and was hired by the State Attorney General who came in second in the Primary to help save his political life. We won and handled the advertising for his winning U.S. Senate campaign in 1980.
The Reverend Bill Welsh gave a “classification talk” at my Rotary Club. “I am asked by fellow members frequently why I became a Pastor,” he said. “To tell the truth (we do that occasionally), I did it because my father was a Pastor and he wanted me to follow in his footsteps. But he gave me very good advice; never discuss politics or religion.”
When I got to Arizona I invoked the old adage: God gave us two eyes, two ears and one mouth and we should use them in approximately that proportion.
I did the best I could with that for a long time, but now I have a convenient need to confess something; Margaret used to regularly buy The National Enquirer and Globe.
After they exposed OJ Simpson’s Bruno Magli shoes, I developed an affection for those publications (which my mortified children wanted their mother to bring home in a brown bag), and I recently decided I could easily spare some e-ink
for one of them.
A presidential election year is an excellent time to start wielding my tabloid-of-terror pen. I don't even have to get creative - even I can't make up the stuff the current crop of politicos bestow on us. Yes, Todd Akin, I'm referring to you - today, anyway (so many choices - so little Flog-o-sphere). Of course I can work in the outer-space-alien love child angle to Obama's campaign and throw in a couple Elvis sightings (are you paying attention Rupert Murdoch?), but those seem so mundane and believable. Sorta like being put back in chains, y'all.
Frankly, I think there needs to be a new political party - the Really Really Really Independent Party with the top ticket of those two great Americans, Usain Bolt and Bjork. Bolt can out-run anything and Bjork - she can render pretty much anyone speechless (both very useful skills when one must deal with the media and constituents). In case you are wondering, they were both born in Honolulu.