NOTE: Add '1' to LGBT Before They Print Our BB Jerseys

The idea that these two grown men—who so desperately want something so desperately bad—were not held behind a podium was an oversight.  At one point, they were swaying in semi-circles toward each other.  You know the producer was screaming, "Why didn’t that damn intern tape boundaries [and low voltage wires] onto the carpet?

The sides of my mind separated and started wagering bets—who will swing first?  I was surprised that my right hemisphere, The Artist, was wagering on Romney. 

“Traitor,” the left side snared. 

Statesmen need helms. They need things to grip.  These people aren't holding baseball bats, footballs or racquets that might become extensions for their frenzied electrical currents.  If we don’t give statesmen things to grip, they will wear smiles that stretch abnormally from ear to ear, repressing primal drives to pulverize the competitor, and dance dangerously near a Tyson ear-chewing.  Maybe candidates should go three rounds in the ring, wearing tightly knotted gloves?

Maybe in 2016 we should do this thing outdoors.  People are always more at peace in nature.  NBC could present the first ever decathalon-debate combo.  When the moderator says, “I don’t care if you’re the Governor or the President, [you’re not the boss of me] your time is up,”  the contender could toss a shot-put or javelin, release his energy and maybe pick up a blue ribbon.  Ten questions and Ten Events, is all it would cost for everyone to know who should be the president.  More telling, if one of the candidates spears the other one before he answers the question, that guy loses.  Who wants to vote for a chief who can’t hold his javelin while taking punches at the other’s it-will-never-get-past-Congress promises?   

Because there is so much at stake for these men—and 350M Americans as well as other earth inhabitants that are impacted by US’s decisions—I have to condone the blaring and blatant urges.  It's a wonder that one of them didn't cry out, “It’s my precious.”  That would have been something. Again, I have to have empathy for these multimillionaires who are using all of their might to constrict and restrain in hopes that they might secure a job where the juice doesn’t appear to be worth the squeeze.  I shan’t throw rocks.  I can’t do much better. I’m too shy to talk to a girl on a bar stool. 

Speaking of the common (wo)man, I have to wonder what it would be like if real people (or paid actors) could debate real issues for real solutions. We could list the nations’ unresolved stuff on a basketball breakout diagram.  Conservative and liberal Americans could step up to a fixed podium and debate until the answer was obvious.  It would be like that scene in Troy where Achilles (played by Brad Pitt who premiered his skinny boy guns) launches a javelin into the neck of that Goliath.  No—I’m fixed on the javelin for some reason.  It wouldn’t be like that at all, but the issue would be deemed “RESOLVED” by the end of the hour—'less viewers click over to ESPN to watch something get decided as a result of brute force under the supervision of paid referees and umpires.  Clearly, (after a good tail-gate party) this is how everything that matters happens.  We just aren't staging things right.

We could have a conservative and liberal feed into the National bracket from “farm teams.”  Upon victory from the minor leagues, each would be deemed the chosen expert to debate about various issues.  I imagine the first subject would be about something like P.E.T.A. laws for circus animals.  Next, they might debate about funds for civil servants. (I would like a raise, please.)  The incoming experts could debate about increases in the various education programs.  Eventually, experts could debate about building or blowing up bridges, whether to make counties/parishes fix potholes and asphalt nineteenth century cattle paths, and whether all industries would be better off if they shut down so that everyone could work at one of the many casinos in non-gambling states.  (In Louisiana, gambling is illegal but you can participate in gaming.  I don’t understand the distinction whenever I lose the $40 that I allocate once a fiscal quarter to the roulette wheel.  However, I usually make out with two free Coronas and a pack of second-hand smoke.)

Each night at 9:00 CST, people could tune in and listen to the debate.  I can hear the announcer, “Thank you for joining us on ‘America’s problems from A to Z.’  Tonight, we showcase the letter ‘C.’ We begin with ‘Ca.’ California seems to be the best place to start…”   3, 5,7, or 9 non-judiciary people, drawn by lottery or during a game of football-field-size spin the bottle, would moderate the debate and vote.  Of course, Americans would be invited to call in and cast a tax-deductible vote.  (However, master debaters would not be able to wear oversized football jerseys with the last two digits of their zip code.  History has shown that this hypnotizes voters, causes tone deafness, and skews lucidity.)

After, America’s problems from A to Z becomes a top-rated prime time show, random good-natured college graduates will be able to identify the vice-president in a line-up.  Well, maybe.  It’s safe to say, they’d be able to identify the moderator and debators…who could then run for office.  Eventually, Jay Leno’s reporter-on-the-street would have to stop making fun of drunk people who want to have a good time on their vacation and not worry about whether the statesmen are holding javelins.

These guys are still talking which jars me out of my tangent.  I listen to Romney’s concern for anxious business owners who are eager to hire women, “583,000 women have lost their jobs.” Obama agrees. There; hell froze over.  No matter who gets voted in, the economy will come back and men will release their pent anxieties by hiring women.  So, I encourage all females to be strong during initial negotiations and ask for more $$$ in 2013.

I have to say, it’s interesting to hear multi-millionaire men emphatically address the rights of women.  “That’s what I’m fighting for,” President O. says.  I would like to call him out on this, but I have to confess—"I gave him a free ticket in '08." When people say he’s dumb (I won't say who), I raise my silent hand in protest.  The guy inherited more crap that anyone deserves, even though he took a year and a half out of his life to tour the country and beg for the gig.  My silent hand says, “As long as major financial institutions aren’t crumbling when I wake up in the morning and we aren’t starting another war, the new guy gets a free pass [for 1 term].”  But, I should warn you; if he isn’t the antichrist like so many billboards between Georgia and Louisiana warn—my silent hand will learn to murmur.

It’s because of these apathetic allowances that I’m not into politics. I’m just grateful that neither of the two guys want to change the United States of America’s Constitution—which is the planet’s symbol for freedom (in most countries).  This means that I don’t have to worry about store housing my increased salary to move to a country where my genetic disposition isn’t illegal. So near were the dark ages!

“I believe in a fundamentally different way of running this country,” one of them says. It doesn’t matter which one said it because the other is diametrically opposed too. Thus, they are in agreement. There; hell froze over, again.

I say, “You guys in Washington keeping spinning the same old tale and let the rest of us get on with a new narrative.”  All we need are poster boards and Sharpies.  We’ll make a basketball diagram for each and every issue in America.  Meet me back here when we get to the letter “L.”  LGBT civil rights will be first up that night.  And, I’ll be the one selling bleacher-seat tickets, drive-thru daiquiris, and Cajun quarters, “).