My Perfect Candidate

Election season is upon us, and several people have recently asked me what my dream candidate looks like. In the interests of not ever having to answer that question again, I have compiled a list of policy positions that my perfect candidate would adopt immediately.  It’s not a complete list, but these are definitely the most important.  In light of Trump’s plans to “build a wall” along the U.S./Mexican border while making Mexico pay for it, these seem relatively feasible:

Find Bigfoot. Long an important pillar of any Dearden-backed candidate, a concerted effort to find bigfoot certainly has to be a national priority.  Over the last century, very little federal funding has been expended to this urgent end.  Even Teddy Roosevelt, the so-called conservation president, spent only one-tenth of one percent of the federal budget to locate, track, and capture this elusive creature (and was largely unsuccessful).  As I’ve been saying all along—in order to be successful in this endeavor, we need boots on the ground in our national forests.  There is only so much that drones, helicopters, and hidden cameras can accomplish.  We need federally-backed search parties in every national forest in America!  Let’s get this done!

iced capp

Buy, steal or pillage the Iced Capp and Iced Capp Supreme from Tim Horton’s. I have long maintained that, were Canada to become victim of a large-scale takeover by an evil foreign power, saving the Iced Capp should become an international priority.  Much like global warming, by the time we do decide to take the prospect of losing the Iced Capp seriously, it will be too late.  The best (and most painless) strategy would be for the United States federal government to buy the Iced Capp from the Tim Horton’s franchise.  If this is unsuccessful, the U.S. should threaten to either (1) banish all Tim Horton’s from the country immediately, or (2) go to war with Tim Horton’s and/or Canada to ensure the retrieval of the Iced Capp and Iced Capp Supreme recipes and/or trade secrets.

Sell Alaska to Canada in exchange for certain rights and/or privileges. Look—I don’t want to lose Alaska any more than the next guy (it’s ranked #3 in my state rankings), but it may be the price we have to pay for achieving some of our other goals as a country.  In 1867, Secretary of State William Seward agreed to purchase Alaska from Russia for $7.2 million (about 2 cents per acre), so I’d say that any way you look at it, we are going to get a great return on our investment.  In exchange for giving Canada 663,268 square miles of untapped wilderness, we could require (1) unfettered access to the northern Canadian wilderness to search for bigfoot (helping with #1 above), (2) one Canadian NHL franchise of our choice, (3) the recipe for the Iced Capp (taking care of #2 above), (4) one major Canadian city, (5) the entire Canadian Mounties police force, (5) the permanent imprisonment of either Justin Bieber or Nickelback (Canada’s choice), and (6) the privilege of blaming one international military disaster on faulty Canadian intelligence (how valuable would have that been, in, say, Benghazi?).


Address root beer inequality. It is absolutely criminal that most Americans only get to taste a small sliver of the root beer continuum in their lifetimes.  I will no longer stand for a world where a human being in the twentieth century can go their entire life, from birth to death,  having only tasted Mug, A&W, Barq’s, and maybe an IBC on a special occasion.  This problem will not address itself.  Restaurants serving root beer will continue to bow to the pressure of massive corporations like Coca-Cola (Barq’s) and Pepsi (Mug) unless the federal government steps in and regulates this discriminatory industry.  Shame!

root beer

Figure out the ironing board. With everything that we’ve accomplished as a nation, we ought to be able to create an ironing board that doesn’t sound like a witch melting in a pot of boiling water every time it opens.  It doesn’t matter whether you pull the legs out fast or slow—the sound is unacceptable! The next president, by the end of the decade, should vow (much like President Kennedy did a la landing on the moon), that our country will put our best minds to work to create an ironing board that doesn’t squeak.  We need a leader with resolve to make this happen!  Let’s make this country great again!

Conduct a congressional investigation into why countries are still a part of the British Empire, and whether we should think about becoming a member. Nothing has vexed the American public more than the question of what it means to be a member of the British Empire. Is it just that the member countries get more visits from the royal family?  Are there other perks that we don’t know about?  It sure seems like the world’s most exclusive (country) club.  Congress should conduct a full investigation and then should determine if the United States should apply for membership.  What’s the fee?  Is it only open to countries that haven’t fought several massive land wars with England? Even if America doesn’t fit the application criteria exactly, can’t Parliament make an exception?  What if we threaten to bomb them?


Expand protection for our nation’s color deficient. Most people callously refer to us as the “color blind,” but the more appropriate term is “color deficient.”  Those who are color deficient in this country are vastly misunderstood and regularly discriminated against.  It is not so much that the discrimination is overt.  It is primarily institutionalized and manifests itself in everyday objects like stoplights.  If you could put yourself in the shoes of a color deficient man for one day, you may become more sympathetic to our plight.  Easter egg hunts are a disaster.  Picking out the correct color schemes in the mornings—forget about it.  Color coded charts and graphs at work or on the internet—absolutely disheartening.  It is time our next president stood up and said, “Enough is enough! Let’s end this scourge of bigotry while there is still time.”

Universal coffee shop terminology. It is high time that Starbucks stopped trying to be cool and just named their sizes Small, Medium, Large and Extra Large.  Any Starbucks employee that corrects my Medium order by saying, “Do you mean Grande?” should be given a mandatory 2 year sentence in federal prison.

So these are just the heavy hitters.  Any true candidate of mine should, at a minimum, be talking about at least a few of these.


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