Foremost on my Mind: Running for Office

 
Once again, our hero, El Fungo, is faced with the dilemma of answering his phone, knowing—thanks to Call Display—full well that Maurice, his second cousin twice-removed, is fixin' for a debate. Politics, as you know, does that to otherwise sane men.)
 
Hello? Oh, it's you, Maurice. (Bit of a white lie here, people: Call Display already spilled the beans.) Yes, how's it going? Not, not literally, Maurice; it's just a mindless expression here in the West that means something like, “How are you doing?” Doing what? No, again, Maurice, just one of those stupid idioms that—What? I did not call you an idiot!
 
Anyways, dear Second Cousin Twice-removed (but you keep coming back), what's on your mind? Uh huh, and then? Oh really? They said what? You've got to be kidding! No, no, Maurice, just another stupid idiot, er, idiom, that means “you can't be serious!”
 
Maurice, tell them that I'm flattered that they want me to run in this next election. I have actually spent some time thinking about it, and I can see some reasons why I wouldn't qualify for the task; but I suppose there are others reasons why I might.
 
I think the main reason why I wouldn't run for office is my skin. No, no, not skin colour, my friend: I'm too thin-skinned. I tend to be too touchy, and I hate being constantly criticized, especially if what has gone wrong is not my fault. I like people and I want people to like me. But when one is in public office--or even in any public limelight, for that matter--one is forever being harangued, skewered, and thrashed. I love putting myself out for people, but I also love being appreciated.
 
Another reason for not running for office is that I have a family to lead. I can't see the good in taking care of the national forest when my own lawn goes uncut. No, Maurice, that's just a word picture! In other words, why worry about everybody else's business when my chief business (raising my own family) remains ignored, or at least marginalized? That doesn't make any sense at all at this stage of my life.
 
Ironically, on the other hand, I think that the experience from raising my family is likely one of the best qualifications to run for office--even take up a cabinet post, if successful. Who better than a parent to run the Ministries of Justice, Health, Finance, Agriculture, or Education? Who better qualified to dictate policies that create law-abiding, healthy citizens than dedicated parents who have slogged for years to do the same within the confines of family life? On a tight budget, to boot?
 
Experience aside, I think another qualifier in running for office should be character. I don't think it should be based on whether one is a lawyer or not, or whether one has the (financial) wherewithal. Those aren't qualifications, Maurice; those are mere considerations.
 
When I speak of character, I can use it in one of two ways: I identify someone as quite a “character,” or I can admire his “strength of character.” I'm thinking of the latter when I talk of a qualification for public office.
 
And when I speak of said character, I am thinking of punctuality, dependability, honesty, integrity—well, you get the picture. Mind you, those should be the same qualities for hiring people, following people, and grooming people. Sometimes methinks we have lost the focus on what makes a good leader. And I mean that for any type of leader.
 
I think politics is a messy business, partly because of the process itself, partly because of the people that perpetuate it. When I see the ugly antics of the leaders and their desperate lackeys, I want to hold my vote. That would, of course, accomplish absolutely nothing. I need to help vote the rogues out and the good guys in.
 
So, tell your friends at the Yap Yap Cafe, “thanks, but no thanks.” I'll contribute in my own little way for the time being. Perhaps someday I throw my hat in the ring—no, no, just another one of those expressions—and run for office.
 
In the meantime, I have to run to take care of some other important legislation in my own little kingdom, something about dinner table rules. Right things first, you know.