It has been a long struggle these past four weeks. Because I had drifted apart from that which I love - myself, myself becoming the Mayor - it seemed like even longer. Four weeks... and a day... maybe.
Let's not focus on the details.
At times, I thought I would never get back to campaigning. I'd look around me, at all I had to do to pull this community out of its shitbox of corruption, and I'd cry.
Why!? Why!? I'd scream to the sky. Why have I been cursed with this unending hope and ability and sexiness, with these essential qualities of hopeful and effective and sexy leadership?!
(I actually wouldn't scream that last part to the sky. That would be a lot of screaming. Mostly, I'd just scream "why" at the sky, then think the rest toward the sky, loudly.)
No one ever gave me an answer.
Finally, one night, I realized that all candidates go through this phase of doubt and worry. I realized that it was natural, and, moreover, I realized it wasn't my fault!
It's Britt Ackerman's, LLC, MFP, ODB, fault.
She's my campaign manager, but I don't see any yard signs up around town. No debates being arranged. No supportive letters to the editor in the local paper. No fatted swine being spit-roasted over aged hickory fires. No cocaine-fueled raves with topless supermodels for me to deny participating in.
I mean, what does she do all day, this campaign manager of mine?
What am I not paying her for?
Sure, she's a "lawyer" and an "underwater munitions expert" and an "itinerant sex therapist" and a "friend to walruses everywhere", but where has she been in this campaign?
And why does she always smell like yogurt?
We may never know.
I do know this - the mayoral campaign is down to three contestants now: me and the two eventual losers.
Will Britt Ackerman be able to rally her walrus legions to my side? What of the poor men who can no longer rise to the occasion on their own, will Britt be able to pull them out? Will Britt blow up the bridge in time to save the town from less-qualified, less-sultry politicians? Will she lawyer something?
Only time will tell, but I can tell you that I feel better having named it and blamed it.
Now let's get out there and run a respectable, responsible campaign for me, Britt; I'm kinda busy with other things.
Dude, you kicked some serious electoral butt in the primaries! I mean, there were like nine candidates and seven of them were totally ELIMINATED and you are still in the race? Awesome!
Just shows what can be accomplished in this great city with a little gumption.
Congratulations on making it through the difficult primaries.
Perhaps Britt has been focusing her energies on more subtle campaign tactics...sending out mass ESP messages in the middle of the night...casting spells on townsfolk...?
She's doing something right, because look! You're still running!
Good points, Kristin. Her abilities are limitless, this we know for sure.
That'd be sweet if she were truly casting some serious spells on people!
Wonder what I shouldn't pay her for that?
uhhhh...like...I don't get it dude. Are you, like...actually running or are you just, like... joking around or something? Cuz, like...if you are actually running I don't think you're doing a very good job. And, like...I think you need a new campaign manager,cuz if she smells like yogurt all the time you might offend the cow supporting people, cuz you know, like...they want us to use people's breast milk for that sort of thing now...ya' know?
Alright, Sir Kevin, let me lay out my campaign strategy for all you lurkers.
Step 1: I am actively lobbying Pollster.com to include our local mayoral election on their fabulous website. Their webmaster has promised to show Brendon with a 10 point lead, but it's going to cost $10,000 in "advertising contributions" to make that happen. We don't have that money. But if one of you will sponsor this expense, we'll promise to grant you trademark rights over the city once Brendon is elected. As in "Northfield Minnesota, Brought to You by Sir Kevin."
Step 2: We believe that yard signs and buttons are bad for the environment. Come November, all that shit is going to end up in a landfill, right? So, we have several talented local tatoo artists volunteering their time and supplies on free "Brendon for Mayor" tatoos. You must place your tatoo in a visible location; foreheads and forearms are preferable. No tramp stamps allowed. Email me to sign up.
Step 3: We're going to bus all the Carleton students to their local poll on election day. I know, they could walk, but the catch is that there are going to be kegs of beer on each bus. That's about 2,500 votes for Brendon. That should be enough to carry the election, as long as enough of you volunteer for tatoos.
(And, BTW, I smell like frozen yogurt, the strawberry kind. Yum.)
Shit! Britt hits! Those are great, viable action items, Ms. Ackerman! That's what we need: creativity, body modification and open manipulation of the electorate! None of this sneaking around. We're up front about it. It's our best defense.
Thank you, thank you, Strawberry Frozen Yogurt Woman!
For those of us who are too cowardly to inject food coloring into our skin, we could have t-shirts done up with the acronym "BMFB"..(Body Modifiers For Brendan), not to be mistaken for the acronyms for "Boy Meets Fabulous Babes" or "Banana Muffins Fight Bigotry" or "Billions For Monolithic Beuracracy"...all worthy causes but none so much as yours!
I, for one, will be wearing the t-shirt.
I likes me this Sir Kevin maybe more so than a straight man should....
I would consider being your trophy biaatch, but I just can't get past the yogurt issue.
Have you considered shaving the campaign slogans into chest hair, or the heads of willing college students? No waste! And the birds will love the byproducts come spring.
I volunteered to be his running mate because I've once been to Canada and therefore have oodles of foreign policy experience but he laughed in my face, like a good Northfield mayor should.
I want to be secretary of the exchequer. Can I? Can I?
More seriously (but not much), I am excited by the continuing campaign. I can't wait to cast my vote in November.
I'm trannying it up in the Rocky Horror Show (keep the girls at home, if you and the wifey decide to go - it will forge nightmares of the soul), so I've been quite unable to blog about the many stimulating developments in my candidacy in my mind. I hope to earn your vote with more biting wit and incisive satire, or maybe with my friend... Mr. George Washington? Huh? How 'bout it?
That's right, you heard me, one shiny American quarter.
Exchequer that, baby!
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