Pretend You Are Running
If you ever want to feel what it must be like to run for president, pretend that you have experienced the following:
- The stupid remarks you made in high school are part of every comedy routine on late night television.
- The obnoxious guy you could have easily avoided prior to running has you by the collar and is droning into the final 15 minutes of his fool-proof plan to achieve world peace.
- Your quip that an opponent's foreign policy ideas are "pig-ignorant" has ignited protests from pig lovers throughout the nation. Hecklers dressed as pigs show up at your events.
- You can't use a public restroom without a herd of reporters waiting outside the door.
- You are expected to wolf down and praise every bizarre local dish held up by some eager street vendor.
- You are not sure if the person who is frantically pushing through a crowd is an ardent supporter or a murderous psychotic.
- Many of the reporters on your campaign bus secretly hope to smile and cajole you into some interesting revelation that will give them a headline, even if it is lethal to your dreams.
- If you entirely please all of the members of your base - the same dedicated folks who will make the rafters ring in the convention hall - you have probably sunk your chances in the general election.
- You sleep in a different hotel room every night.
- You have to be "on" and charming with everyone who crosses your path or they will tell their friends or a nearby microphone that you are an inconsiderate snob.
- The problems and challenges in your personal life - after all, you are no different from anyone else - have not disappeared.
- You get up early in the snowy morning to greet factory workers as they arrive at work and many of them refuse to take your hand.
- You drive across a city only to discover that the "Meet the Candidate" party at Rachel Emerson's home has attracted eight people.
- Every political junkie within 50 miles is eager to tell you how to improve your campaign.
- Some of them are correct.