Elections

This November you may be considering the most momentous decision of your life, one that could possibly save democracy as we know it or instead usher in a 1000 year rule of Christendom upon the heathen nation of Babylon. Or maybe you are just contemplating whether it’s time to get rid of that fossilized retired gym teacher on the school board who always dozes off when the agenda moves to considering the superintendent’s request for a new school bus, and replace him with the energetic young mom who’s been knocking on all the neighbors doors, often toting one or more of her little ones, in order to plead for an increase in the budget for art and music programs.

I was indoctrinated into the ways of democracy at a very young age: I was born on election day. My Mom loved to tell the story of how she got up that morning, baked a chocolate cake, then went to vote. When she returned home, she went into labor and I was born a few hours later, just in time to see the results of my first election.

Growing up we were well educated about the importance of free elections and voting in our public schools. I was regularly chosen to be a representative to Student Council. There we would gather to decide momentous issues such as whether to serve cherry Kool-Aid or pineapple Hawaiian Punch at the school dance and if we were going to invite the mayor to speak at the all-school assembly again this year or instead ask the Fire Chief, who was Matthew’s dad, and promised to bring a fire truck that student council members would get first crack at climbing onto, to ring the bell.

I guess at some point many kids got jaded about these elections. They often turned into popularity contests where the most perfect girl or boy would be chosen whether or not they had any interest in governance. And what was the point of voting if you already knew what the outcome would be? Sure, the ballot was supposed to be secret, but when the teacher tallied up the votes, everyone knew that Paul Oberhoff was the one who voted for our class hamster, and Harry Stodgett must have voted for himself, since nobody else would have picked someone whose favorite TV program was Meet the Press. It should be noted that despite his lack of popularity Harry was the only one in our class who went on to have a political career (as a consultant and lobbyist for the meatpacking industry.)

But the political campaigns did encourage some kids to come up with catchy slogans, even if they failed to catch many votes:

• Life is short. Leslie is short. Therefore, Leslie is life. Vote for Leslie!

• Melvin’s not popular and he’s not handsome, so he has time for student government.

• Freedom. Liberty. Better Vending Machines.

• Give the middle class their lunch money back!

• Brad will get you all fives on your AP tests. Don’t worry, I know a guy.

Of course, ridiculous campaign promises are not only for kids. Back in 1992, as candidate of the Boring Party for President, Alan Caruba promised to end boredom. Among his ideas: mandatory dance breaks at work and government sponsored amusement parks.

Hunter S. Thompson (one of our original Funny Times columnists) promised to replace the streets of Aspen, Colorado with sod when he ran for sheriff. He said this would make the town more peaceful by forcing people to travel by bike or foot. He also promised to change the name of the town to Fat City, to discourage “greed-heads, land-rapers, and other human jackals from capitalizing on the name Aspen.” These swine, he wrote, “should be f***ed, broken, and driven across the land.”

And in 2012 Joe Biden said this, “Now is the time to heed the timeless advice from Teddy Roosevelt. ‘Speak softly and carry a big stick.’ I promise you; President Obama has a big stick. I promise you.”

Then there was the slogan that was used by Barry Goldwater during his 1964 campaign for President: “In Your Heart, You Know He’s Right.’ LBJ’s campaign responded with this anti-slogan (which might be ready for a reboot): “In Your Guts You Know He’s Nuts.” Goldwater lost that election by a landslide.

This November I encourage all my readers to do your civic duty and take part in the greatest democracy that we’ll probably ever have the pleasure of knowing. And after you vote why not go home and bake yourself a chocolate cake. You can never go wrong with a chocolate cake on my birthday.

My daughter Renae and I created a music video for this election: We’re Not Going Back! Please check it out!