BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Have you ever noticed that when you go to your designated polling place to cast your vote, there are these blinders positioned on either side of the booth – be it punch card or electronic. Even the big honkin’ mechanical voting booths – which I am old enough to remember using, although some of you probably aren’t – had a curtain you pulled closed in order to hide what you were doing in there.

Why is that?

Well, it is because we are allowed privacy. The reality of the process is this – it is a “secret ballot.” That means it’s nobody else’s business for whom you cast your vote. Kinda cool, eh? You get to make up your own mind and not be taken to task for it. Democracy… Ain’t it grand?

So, here we are, right smack in the middle of another election year. The candidates are running willy-nilly about, screwing up, telling you what they think you want to hear, making promises they will never be able to keep – no matter how well intentioned – because the President is only one branch of the government and generally cannot make wholesale decisions without the approval of the house and senate.

So what? These candidates are human, they are going to make mistakes just like you and me, and telling you the bunch of well intentioned lies is the best way to influence you in order to get what they want. Besides, they probably even believe some of the dreck they are spouting. That’s all part of politics. We have to cope with it because it’s what we have, and while it certainly isn’t perfect, it’s close to, if not THE best game in town.

I won’t get started on some of the things I think our government is doing to undermine our freedoms – that’s another blog entirely. Probably several, in fact…

No, my running off at the mouth today is about “endorsements.” There is currently a celebrity endorsement bouncing all over Myspace… It even made the national news. Now, I happen to like said celeb. Not that I know him personally, or have even met him, because I don’t and I haven’t. But, I do like his movies, and I’m guessing he’d be a kick to sit down with and have a chat. So, this is NOT aimed at him… Actually, it is aimed more at the media…Why? Because his video endorsement made the national news…

I don’t get it.

Since when did starring in a few movies, thereby being in the public eye, make someone qualified to “endorse” a political candidate? Moreover, why the hell should the average joe on the street care one way of the other if an actor says “Vote for Wilson”?

Is it an, “I’m not a politician, but I play one on TV” sort of thing? I’m just curious… Why? Because I still don’t get it. Maybe I’m a big moron. Maybe I’m the one who should be talking to a volleyball. I dunno…

However, since this is apparently the trend, I certainly cannot pass up this promotional opportunity. Since I am at least somewhat in the public eye due to writing a mess of novels, I figure I need to get on the bandwagon too.

Therefore, it is time that I, as a minor league celeb, tell you for whom you should cast your vote, seeing as how you, the general public apparently have no ability to make up your own minds without the influence of people who have no better grasp of politics than you. Since I am, as I said, only a minor league celeb, I won’t go through the gyrations of making a video. I will simply do it via text.

So, here goes.

I want Geena Davis to be the next President of the United States. She played the part on TV already, so I’m betting she has a pretty good understanding of how the system works. Hell, if her series hadn’t been cancelled, she would probably have already accomplished getting us the hell out of Iraq, and gas would have been replaced by highly efficient and low cost, non-polluting fuel cells.

And, to take things a step further, I really think she should pick Martin Sheen as her running mate. He had a hell of a run in the White House, and given the incredible skills of his staff, I’m sure he can help Geena when it comes to picking her advisors.

There. Now I am going to sit here in my office and wait for a call from the Early Show.

I mean, since I am an official minor league celebrity and I have publicly announced my endorsement, I am certain Harry Smith and the crew will want to talk to me.

No offense to Harry, but I hope I get interviewed by Julie Chen. She seems like she would be a really nice person.

You know, come to think of it, maybe Geena should make her the Chief of Staff.

More to come…

Murv

Good Morning…

I need help. No, not that kind of help. I’m nowhere near as insane as I pretend to be…well, maybe…if you count that incident in…oh, never mind. I promised the other parties involved I wouldn’t talk about that outside of therapy. But, anyway…

What I need help with is dream interpretation. Now, normally I am pretty good at that sort of thing. I can tag the easy as well as the obscure. And, in this particular incident I am certain I could massage some standard interpretation to fit the events, however the bizarre info dump my subconscious let loose on me last night was so odd that I am not entirely sure it even has an explanation. So, here it is:

I’m at the local airport. Not unusual, because I spend so damn much time there anyway that it seems like my home away from home. Never mind the fact that what I know to be my local STL airport (Lambert, Intl) looks for all the world (in my dream) like the airport in Columbus, OH. (Yeah, I’ve been through that one several times, which probably explains that.)

Anyway, here I am walking through the airport when suddenly I run into William H. Macy and Felicity Huffman. Now, I don’t suppose this is unusual in and of itself, because as I recall they are married to one another. But then, that may have changed, I don’t know. I’m not one for keeping up on the break ups and hook ups in “Hollerwood.”

Of course, it wouldn’t be much of a bizarre dream if that’s all there was to it, correct? Correct. So, Huffman and Macy aren’t just standing there, or strolling along running into dreaming folks. No. In point of fact, they are in front of a newsstand taking turns jumping on an oversized, bizarrely constructed, stagger-pedaled pogo stick. (sorry if that makes no sense, but it was the only way I could think of to explain it. Suffice it to say, it was one weird looking pogo stick)…

Now, if that’s not enough, Macy sees me and motions me over, then completely ignores Huffman, leaving her to bounce around the concourse of the terminal on this pogo-contraption. Suddenly I find that we are sitting in easy chairs near the entrance to the restroom, while Huffman continues to gleefully bounce around the concourse, giggling like a little schoolgirl. At this point Macy and I have said nothing to one another, but now he turns to me and asks me what kind of books I write. I tell him. He gives it a moment of thought and then asks me if I have read his blog. (Hell, I didn’t know he had one)…I tell him no. He then asks me if I have a blog. I say yes. (Now, remember, Huffman is still wreaking havoc with the pogo stick in the background of all of this, but TSA and Airport Security don’t seem to care. They are far more concerned that my wife is a potential terrorist and are searching her luggage. NOTE: Prior to this point in the dream I had no idea my wife was even there.)…So, anyway, Macy gets up to leave without a word, stops, turns and comes back, sits down, and then asks me if my “blog is really intense?”…

Then, I woke up and the coffee wasn’t ready yet.

Needless to say, I am confused. Everything seems to be functioning properly and I do know who the president is (unfortunately), and the day of the week, etc, so I don’t think I had a stroke in my sleep or anything.

Still, this one has me scratching my head.

MR