Tis the Season To Be... Pestered

It is the most wonderful time of year. Every day our mailbox is full. Long ago, forgotten people are reaching out to me on the phone. Emails are coming my way. The radio is just full of those wonderful jingles.

Yes, it's election time.

People are all worked up. Celebrities are everywhere. I'm supposed to vote. I'm supposed to care. There are people counting on me. They are counting on my attitude. On my belief. On my core. On my money. They need me. I can hear them calling like Sauron for the ring. "I seeeeee you!"

I can no longer sit and listen. It is time to act. It is time to vote.

And I will cast my vote for...

I can't help it. I really don't care. When I look at any politician, the whole idea just sickens me. Can't we just vote for a robot or some composite being? Or even a rock? A good rock could be steady. A rock is never going to let me down. Of course, it is not going to get me up either...

A politician is supposed to answer to their people. This person who represents us. This person goes and spends our money in the way we choose for them. How could I ever trust anyone who is pulled in so many different directions?

Alfred E. Neuman for President. It makes that much sense.

This person aligns closely with my ideals. I like the way Mr Neuman votes on all the issues except he does not care much for the Swamp Thing. If only he cared more for the Swamp Thing. And when I shake Alfred's hand, he looks me in the eye and says that he will take care of the Swamp Thing.

So then we vote in Fred Flintstone and he gets up there and starts to do the congressional or gubernatorial thing. I am sure some people are fascinated by the way politics works, but these people are human. They are going to go to Washington and be influenced by the people there. My influence does not matter anymore, because now Fred sees new people that he has to deal with. Barney Rubble's concerns are now taken over by Senator Spacely.

It's like a referee at a game. I am going to be fair. I see only what the fouls are. Nothing else. The crowd does not influence me at all. I have integrity. I-I-I (blow whistle for the charge) I'm not sure if that was a foul or not. It looked like a foul. Something had to be called. There was a lot of contact. That one may not have been a foul either. Oh well. I'm supposed to make calls. I cannot swallow my whistle. These people hate me.

I guess it just takes a certain type of person. Unfortunately, I don't like those types of people.

Can you honestly say you would feel comfortable shaking hands with any politician? She looked me right in the eye and I knew she was for real.

And I am sure that when all the fuss is over, they are fairly normal people. They have barbeques and watch Netflix just like anyone.

But even the really political people are tough to handle. The sycophants that just get worked up. They wear those styrofoam hats and they are holding those signs up until all hours of the night. It's not human. They are in a frenzy when it comes to their hot button issues. They should have robots gathering up people's votes. 

And I just sit back and think: Yeah. I guess that is a good idea. I was taught something else, but I suppose that could work. I guess I like the ideas. The ideas seem to be much better than the people. Unfortunately, we can't elect ideas. We elect people and watch them screw up the ideas.