I might just have a future in politics

In an effort to appear knowledgeable to my readers, I decided to tune into one of the televised presidential political debates. OK, by readers I mean the one woman who lives on a chicken farm out in the Midwest and has her feed delivered wrapped in a newspaper. And by effort I mean opening a double-sized bag of popcorn.

Now, I have a philosophy about debates, political or otherwise; the only good debate is one that ends with the summation, “Yes dear.” Clearly this is the correct answer to any household or foreign policy question, and with such a well-rounded, analytical answer elicited from my opponent, I might just have a future in politics.

But the nice thing about debates is that you can learn some amazing facts or you can gather information that will help you make up your mind about earth-shattering consequences. For instance, I was surprised that as soon as the candidates were introduced, I noticed that the hardwood floor around the podium was put in with a diamond pattern. I had no idea you could use wood to make different configurations in a room. It was polished and smooth, just like the candidates who took the stage. Interesting.

One of the problems I have with political debates is that the questions seem redundant. You know the classic solve the problem question, “What would you do to deal with,” then fill in the blanks with key words like jobs, economy, crime, Cialis, etc. Every debate wants to know the answers to the same questions over and over again, when in fact they know the candidates have about as much power to do anything as Superman when he tried to stop the rotation of the earth but was blocked by Kryptonite that was left on the highway by the evil, vile Department of Transportation taken over by the Joker.

Either that or the moderators turn the debate into a he said, she said, I’m going to tell your mother on you marathon.

I would like to see a debate where thoughtful, insightful and knowledgeable questions are asked like, “Do you wear boxers or briefs?”

Now that would attract everyone’s attention. And the moderators wouldn’t be able to impose themselves into the debate because no one cares what the moderators wear anyway; it is a simple question and inquiring minds want to know.

I know what you are thinking, how is a woman candidate going to answer this kind of question and couldn’t they come up with a vaccine for Kryptonite? Well, women occasionally wear boxers. In fact I had a roommate in college who woke up one morning wearing boxers. OK, she had been out all night at a toga-type party and had a serious case of amnesia, but she did tell me after a few days the boxers were surprisingly comfortable.

The other problem I have with political debates is with all the numbers or figures thrown around. The average American has trouble remembering the PIN number for their ATM account. Four digits is the limit for most people. They can’t recall the number of the floor where their car was parked in a parking garage with only two floors to consider. Put forth a million here and a trillion billion there, and, well you’ve got an audience that has dents in their heads from nodding off on the back of the chair in front.

Still, you have to admire those who are willing to get up on stage and answer questions so the public may be informed about their choice. After all, if no one came forward to declare for an office, it would have to be left empty. And then where would we be … ah, the light has finally dawned.