Free Ponies for All Americans!

Photo by SpratMackrel

It’s a strange, strange word we live in, and with each day that passes it just seems to keep getting stranger. (Then again, perhaps “nuttier” is a better word.) And just when I think I’ve heard everything, I hear something else that makes me go, “Whoa! Is this for real?”

As I’ve mentioned, I read the newspaper religiously. In fact, I would be lost without my daily dose of The Advocate, “My Newspaper of Choice.” Speaking of which, a month or so ago when our newspaper carrier either found another job, ran away with a waitress from the Waffle House out near Interstate 10, or else was abducted by aliens, I was not a happy camper. Do you know how hard it is to find a copy of The Advocate here in Lafayette at one of those vending machines that newspapers put at the convenience stores, supermarkets, and pharmacies? Next to impossible, that’s how hard. Oh, you can find six zillion copies of The Daily Advertiser, Lafayette’s local paper, but forget about The Advocate. (There are myriad reasons why I don’t subscribe to the local paper). However, the few copies of The Advocate that they, whoever “they” are, put in the vending machines are gone by the time the fog has lifted off the Atchafalaya Basin, and I’m never out of bed that early. Trust me, having to drive all over town in my pajamas trying to find a copy of The Advocate got old fast, which was what I had to do for two weeks after our former carrier disappeared and before our new carrier finally learned where we lived.  

Okay, now back to the point of this blog, which is what I learned from an article by Shira Schoenberg in the Parade section of Sunday’s The Advocate. First, granted, I learned something I didn’t know about the political system in this country: In the state of New Hampshire anyone can get on the ballot in the presidential primary, at least if he or she has $1,000 for the filing fee and, as Schoenberg says, “a dose of chutzpah.” (If you’re unfamiliar with the word “chutzpah,” it means audacity, nerve, or, in common parlance, “guts.” Hmm, of course, there’s another word I could use, but I won’t since this is a family friendly blog).

As a result of this law, or whatever it is, there are 44 candidates on the ballot in New Hampshire for the election on Tuesday, including a guy named Vermin Supreme (I kid you not; that’s really his name, which makes me wonder about his parents. After all, what person is going to name a kid “Vermin”? Then again, come to think of it, I’ve seen plenty of kids around deserving of that moniker.) 

Well, regardless of his decidedly weird name, Vermin Supreme would get my vote if I lived in New Hampshire instead of down here in the godawful swamps of Louisiana because the issues he is running on are issues I could support.

First, Vermin Supreme wants to make tooth-brushing mandatory, and I don’t know about you, but I’ve seen quite a few people here in Louisiana who could stand to improve their oral hygiene. Two, Vermin wants to enact a measure he calls “zombie preparedness;” and, in my opinion, we Americans should be prepared for a zombie invasion. In fact, I believe I saw one or two zombies the other day at Wal-Mart. Then again, maybe, like me, they were just shoppers dazed from the Wal-Mart shopping experience. Third, Vermin wants federal funding for time travel, and, personally, I think it would be really neat to go back and forth in time to see what we missed or, for that matter, are going to miss.

And now for the pièce de résistance, which is French for the grand finale or something like that: Vermin Supreme wants to give free ponies to all Americans! This alone is reason enough to vote for Vermin, at least in my opinion, because you have no earthly idea how much I wanted a pony when I was a little girl growing up back in rural Georgia. Why, I used to beg my daddy to buy me a pony, but since we were poor, I had to be content either riding one of our big dogs or else trying to ride one of our hogs. Have you ever tried to ride a hog? Well, I’m here to tell you that riding a hog isn’t for sissies. If you do manage to get on that hog’s back, which in itself is no small feat, that hog is going to take off like greased lightning across that pigpen, bucking as only a hog can buck, and you’re soon going to find yourself lying face down in the mud, muck, and mire being trampled by all the other hogs. So, that said, I think we should all campaign to get Vermin on the national ballot in the upcoming election. Vermin Supreme is my idea of a real presidential contender.

Schoenberg, S. (2012) “Vote for. . . Who?” Baton Rouge, LA: The Advocate. Parade, p. 4