The Presidency

You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?  The Presidency.


I swear I'll do better than the last guy.

This past Tuesday, the citizens of America and the world turned their collective eyes to Washington D.C. to witness the most ballyhooed inauguration in generations as Barack Obama was sworn in as the 44th President of the United Sates.  Part of the buzz was undoubtedly due to great historical significance of an African-American man taking the oath to become the Commander-in-Chief.  The other part was clearly because of the “ding-dong the witch is dead” vibe most of the country (and the world) felt knowing it was Bush and Cheney’s last day on the job.

Now that the inauguration is over, President Obama finds himself with a lot of work to do.  America is in worse shape than the average contestant on “The Biggest Loser” and now the self-proclaimed skinny guy with the funny name must do everything in his power to whip us back into shape.

But how can he possibly do that?  I mean how does a mortal man get to solving these monumental problems when he just moved into a giant, new home and has unfettered access to everything and anything he could ever want?

It’s easy to see why Dubya got so distracted.  Each perk must’ve seemed like a shiny object he couldn’t take his eyes off of.

I, for one, wouldn’t be able to concentrate on renewable energy or the wars in the Middle East, not when I could spend time introducing myself to the fringe benefits that come with holding the highest office in the land.

I’d inevitably spend the entire first day of my presidency on Air Force One asking the crew annoying questions.

“Can I get every live sporting event in the world on these TVs?”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“In HD?”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“And an order of deluxe nachos with extra sour cream?”

I’d spend at least two weeks grilling the Secret Service Agents about everything they learned at Secret Service school and then spend the rest of the year trying to get them to laugh.  They may be the best of the best, but something tells me a good, long fart would do the trick.  It’s lowbrow, but it always seems to get the job done.


President Dave?

And while tax-paying Americans waited with bated breath for me to deal with our fledgling economy and the healthcare crisis, I’d be hard at work redecorating the White House.  I think I’d turn Nixon’s bowling alley into the world’s most lavish man cave and the Map Room into an old-time western saloon.  Future Presidents would no doubt thank me for these modifications while they drank Sarsaparilla with their senior staffs.

It’s easy to see why the Presidency of the United States is such an important job that can’t be entrusted to just anyone.  The individual holding the office must be intelligent, mature, focused and willing to put personal desires aside no matter how much he (or she) wants to take the Presidential limo through a Wendy’s drive-thru.

Barack Obama seems to fit the bill.  I clearly do not.  I can think of someone else who clearly did not.  But I suppose there’s no reason to beat that dead horse.  After all…

Ding-dong the witch is dead.


About Dave

My name’s Dave and I’m very fond of running. However, there are also days when getting up early, squeezing myself into a pair of compression tights, and running out into the cold, wet morning is about as much fun as a six-hour road trip with Ann Coulter. Yet I do it anyway. Though I’m not always sure why. When I'm not logging miles or spending time with my wife and son, I'm outlining a plan that would allow me retire early and travel more. I also like beer. View all posts by Dave

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