Within forty-eight hours after the Presidential election in 2012, 827 eager politicians had announced that they would be running for the job in 2016. Since then we have been inundated with promises, pronouncements, accusations, threats, and just plain hot air. Some promised that on their first day in office they would abolish the health plan known as Obamacare. Others promised that on their first day in office they would expand Obamacare to include everyone plus puppy dogs and pussy cats.
Untold millions of dollars have been spent on television time that could have, instead, been used more productively to advertise stomach gas medications. (At the same time 90% of our representatives in Congress did what they do best: say “To hell with the country, I am starting my re-election campaign.”)
In light of these excesses I have decided that I will run for President in 2016, not as a Democrat or Republican, but on the Cohen ticket. After all “Cohen” means “High Priest” and can be traced back to Aaron, Moses’ brother. It is the oldest family name in Western civilization—(Nyah, nyah, nyah Smith and Jones.)
My INITIAL reaction to these egocentric public “servants” went something like this: One leading candidate wants to change just one of her initials so that it reads H. R. H.; another in the same party and his rhetoric stands firmly as B. S.; one in the other party is respected as a modern non-politico, but his time appears anchored in B. C.; and, finally the folks in that other party all seem to have a bad case of the D. T.s. Hovering over the entire affair floats the faint odor of B. O.
So here is my plan if—strike that—when I am elected. I will postpone the inauguration day twelve days so it will coincide with my 86th birthday on February 2. My Inauguration Address will be 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. On my first day in office I plan to do three things; Party, partie, partee.
I will spend my second day in office discovering where the bathrooms are and where and when my meals will be served. Then it is down to business.
Day 3, Israel/Palestinian Territory crisis: I plan to accomplish this in the morning by calling Netanyahu and Abbas and simply saying, “Mr. N. and Mr. A. you have two weeks to come up with a plan. One state; two states, Abi Gezunt! (Bibi will understand.) If you do not come up with a plan in fourteen days there will be hundreds of thousands of boots on the ground. Get it?” Of course, that afternoon I will call Netanyahu and say simply, “Bibi, you know Teheran and those nuclear facilities? Do what you need to do to turn them into parking lots, but remember I know nothing about your plans.” (All right, you now know where my allegiance lies.)
Day 4, Wall Street excesses: I will, again, simply, call the CEOs of every major Wall Street organization and threaten to punish them severely. I think that will take care of all my expenses for my 2020 re-election campaign–come on, I’ll just be turning 90—the new 87.
Day 5: Immigration: This one is easy. First thing in the morning we annex Mexico and make it the 51st state—we hold off on Canada for a few weeks. Of course, Central Americans are not the only immigration issue. All Chinese, whether citizens or not, will have to return to China; I mean we can get by without chow mein or egg rolls. If the Mexican government objects in any way, I will just drop hints of nuclear and chemical weapons, as well as hundreds of thousands of boots on the ground.
Day 6, Massage, manicure, and take in a basketball game.
Day 7, Deal with the fat kid in North Korea: Again, this is so simple I cannot believe no one thought of it sooner. One phone call: “Hey, you want
South Korea, you got it! It’s all yours.” If he turns out to be a tough negotiator, I will subtly offer him Japan too. If he still balks, boots, baby, boots.
Day 8, Crumbling infrastructure: Huh? I get around in Air Force One and limousines with an entourage of several hundred. Bridges, schmidges, let Congress worry about it.
Day 9, Innercity anger, violence, crime: I will appoint a Blue Ribbon Committee of the finest attorneys available to examine and look for loopholes in 14th Amendment. If necessary, there will be lots of boots.
While they’re at it, I will have them look for loopholes in the 20th Amendment also. (Give ’em the vote and right away they want your job. Whatever happened to taking care of the children, cooking, cleaning, and you know what else?)
Days 10-30, Camp David: Hey, man, I will be 86 years old; I need some down time.
Day 31, The budget deficit: I saved this easy one for a lazy day when we will be doing laundry and catching up on reading. Yes, a deficit of 18 or 19 trillion dollars is a big deficit, but anyone with any business background knows that you also have to examine assets, and our assets equal about two or three times the deficit. All I have to do, therefore, is let it be known that parts of Yosemite, Yellowstone, Grand Canyon, and Denali might be available to the right developer for the right price. That leaves about four hundred other parks and monuments, and, people, that represents a lot of cash. How about an ad that reads: “For Sale or Lease: Federal buildings and property in virtually every major city? Want your own aircraft carrier or fighter plane? It can be arranged for the right price, after secret electronics are removed.” The deficit goes bye-bye overnight and we get rid of the IRS and all taxes. On Memorial Day, the Fourth of July, and Labor Day, we have people on the street with barrels wrapped in flags, and they will ring miniature liberty bells to collect money. Deficit? What deficit?
After that there should be no crises, but if there are, I will deal with them as they come up.
And that, dear friends and my fellow Americans, is my plan for my first month in office. So please vote for me in the November 2016 election.
W A I T !
I almost forgot something: THE COST. Simple! We sell off a few tanks, helicopters, weapons, etc. We are home safe. Well, there is just one more detail. It seems that every pair of those millions of boots gets filled by some American young man or woman, and some of the boots do not make it home–ever. That cost exceeds more than any number of dollars.
Consequently, I think I will pass on the election and just continue to enjoy my grandchildren and occasionally write nonsensical attempts at humor. I will, reluctantly, leave it to Ben, Bernie, Don, or Hil to do this seventy-two hour a day job. Perhaps a committee could do better. How about Doc, Happy, Sneezy, Dopey (we already have 531 of them), Grumpy and a two more–I think they might even have a token woman.
So instead of voting for me, (Damn! I’d do a good, albeit simple, job), please just buy a few, all right, a couple–maybe just one copy of my novel. It makes great Christmas, Hanukah, birthday, wedding, Bar Mitzvah, or any other day presents, and even those of you who manage to read my scribblings to the end might enjoy it.
BY ANY OTHER NAME, by Edwin Cohen
Available at Ingram, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble “dot com’s.”
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