How I Lost the Election

About two months ago I declared my candidacy for President of the United States of America and the mainstream media did not notice.

Surprised? 

Well, apparently most people were. I thought I could be the solution. If I offered myself as a write-in candidate, then voters on both sides of the voting booth could have a choice to select which they did not loath. After all, I'm a pretty nice guy most of the time. As proof of that, I regularly post bunnies on Facebook. Those who knew me through social media would attest to my good-naturedness, my clever repartee, and my wholesome disposition. I even had some kind of a platform, which I outlined in a previous blog post. I also had an animal logo that would stand alongside the donkey and the elephant. 

Then the harsh reality set in. First, I learned that not even my own state allowed write-in votes. Other states had similar rules. Right then I knew I could not win but I still hoped to gain some support so I could make a valid run next time. I thought my platform was good, too. Nobody complained. I got several comments of support and none asking questions about details. I knew I would work out the details later, anyway, when I hired top people to think through all the problems and how to solve them. That's how it works; I learned that from the TV show WKRP in Cincinnati.

There were no scandals in my campaign, either. Having no staff and no press corps, I could have done anything, yet I continued my happy-go-lucky, carefree campaign almost exclusively through social media. Wikileaks does not even know my name, it seems. I accepted no donations from big donors; in fact, I had zero donations so I was forced to self-fund. I took out almost seventy-nine dollars from the bank and spent it on coffee and ice cream and hamburgers to keep the campaign going. I gave no speeches and had no rallies. I made no banners or yard signs. I was asked for no interviews and gave no statements to any election board. I did not even make a major magazine cover.

All right, I know I was naive, too innocent for politics, and I started too late in the cycle. Then I kept to myself and just hoped everything would come together and then I would be coronated by the masses. I would awaken on November 9 and be as surprised as everyone else that a simple lad born and raised in Missouri who had so many qualifications [sic] would be invited to direct the activities of a mighty nation. I could do it, too; I would willingly put aside my fiction writing business for a few years. And yet, it didn't happen. Instead, it seems everyone still voted for one of the two they didn't hate--when they could have voted for me. 

Now all there is is gridlock. Half the voters are pleased and half protest. Some cry out that it was all unfair, they didn't get their way. Some shout how they suffered during the past eight years so now others can suffer. Many think the world is about to end while others see the world being saved--both of them, of course, electing only a president, the leader of one of around 182 nations on this planet. Granted, it's a big-talking nation with wide reach and a bottomless belly, but hey...I could've done it. I would be a unifier. I would have brought people together, all the cat folks and all the dog folks. After all, that is what I did on Facebook. And, as we all know, what happens on Facebook...well, let's leave it at that. No reason to express an opinion that would only incite a response from...well, someone...anyone...please?

I hope for better luck next time. Can I count on your vote?

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