here was a knock at my door last night. As usual, I answered. There stood a man. My first thought was that he probably couldn't bench more than fifty pounds. He wore faded jeans, an old flannel shirt and a smile. He carried a clipboard and a pen. "Hello?" I asked.
"Hi!" He sure was a cheery fellow. "My name is Bob Dommer." That wasn't actually his name. I forgot what his real name was, but even if I remembered it, I wouldn't grace him with the free publicity of mentioning it here. So we will call him Mr. Dommer. No middle name.
Bob offered his hand to be shaken. I shook. "Hello there, Mr. Dommer. What can I do for you?" Clipboard and smile, I thought, must be selling something. I love door-to-door sales people in the same way I love tele-marketers. They never peddle anything worthwhile and yet they seem cheerfully oblivious to that fact. I wish I could be content at having no life.
"Please, call me Bob," he began, "as I am sure you've heard, Governor Gray Davis is being recalled." He paused to make sure I had indeed heard. I had. I nodded. He continued: "This unique political situation has given me the opportunity to do my duty as a citizen of this state and run for governor." Is that so? "I was simply stopping by to see if I could trouble you for a signature on my petition to be added to the recall ballot."
For those who don't know, in order to be placed on the ballot in California for this upcoming recall election, you need to gather a whopping 65 signatures. Yes, you heard that right, sixty-five. I don't know when the state legislature became so unreasonable as to require that a wannabe candidate gather endorsements from sixty-five of the fifty-some-odd million inhabitants of our fine state, but that's the way it is. Also, for those who may not have seen on the on the telly because they are blind or Amish, approximately eight billion people are running for governor in the recall election. Now that you have a context in which to place my encounter with Mr. Dommer, let's get back to the action.
So, he wants me to sign his petition. Seems simple enough, however, I don't endorse political candidates without knowing what they stand for. I also don't really vote that often, but that's a story for another day. Before signing, I ask, as though I care: "What exactly do you stand for, Rob?" Why should I vote for you?"
"Well, sir," he begins, "basically I don't like what's going on in California and I believe it's time for change." Fair enough. I hope there's more. "Things are very bad as it is and we need someone who is willing to fix things in Sacramento." Yeah, OK, and? "I want to make it so that we don't have to keep doing this all over every two years." Doing what? The recall? As I recall (haha, pun!), we haven't done this before. Ever. Or did he mean the elections? We shouldn't have to have elections every two years? So he stands for lifelong terms? "And I feel that as a California resident, things need to change." I think you said that already, can't quite remember though, what with all the substance you just crammed into that spiel, Bob. I stared at him a moment, waiting for more. He should shave that goatee if he wants to be our governor. I hate goatees, but you know that already. "And that's my platform." There was no more. Well, Bob, lemme tell you sumthin' that I've learned in my four years as a registered voter: That's not a platform. That's a collection of observations about as astute as saying that hippy-chicks have hairy pits.
I'm all for everyone having a chance at politics if they so desire, that's what democracy is about, but this is really pushing it. You're not going to win, Robert Dommer. Not even close. Because Ahnold has already won in my mind. I signed Bob's petition anyway then I went back inside to watch some TV.
I flipped through several channels for a while, looking for boobies, until I stumbled upon what I believe was an advertisement for Ahnold's gubernatorial campaign. There I was watching our body-building future governmor defeat an insectoid alien predator on television and I realized that politics is a joke. Actually, I realized that long ago, I just wanted to illustrate the point that Ahnold is badass and there is no cinematic antagonist, be he alien or liquid-metal android or gun-toting guerilla that he cannot handle. I postulate (yes, postulate) that he will bring this same gung-ho know-how to the office of governor.
From his experience overturning corrupt corporations in Eraser to the drive and determination he exhibited in Predator as he defeated a foe bigger, stronger and more technologically advanced than him, I feel that Ahnold is the perfect candidate. Everything he touches turns to Gold's Gym. With the exception of Junior. And maybe Terminator 3. But other than that, he's got a good track record: He's killed an alien hunter in the only real Predator movie. He's been a homicidal robot from the future in half a dozen or so of my favorite movies and day dreams. He defeated a classroom full of psychotic kintergardeners in Killer Kintergardener Cop. He dazzled audiences the world over in his biography Hercules in New York. And now, he's may favorite politician. I nominate Ahnold to the office of Secretary of Badass. Oh, wait, we're talking about the governor.
"Sure, he's capable," you may be thinking, "but where does he stand on the issues?" Well, he's obviously not pro-life. And he's all for religious freedom. He even defeated Satan in End of Days. And, perhaps most importantly, Ahnold is for family values. You remember in Commando how his daughter was kidnapped and then Ahnold had to go save her? He could make his platform "I will not let your daughters fall into the hands of deranged, government-trained mercenaries, and if they do, I will personally save them by any means necessary, by which I mean that I will dress in army fatigues and blow shit up using an M16A2 assault rifle with attached M203 grenade launcher until your daughter is returned to you safe and sound. Also, Ah'll be bahck."
Now, that's a platform.
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