If Life Were A: Presidential Campaign

Irelynd Brown, Staff Writer

My national anthem alarm clock blares and I sit upright.  9:50 am, 9 time zones, 50 states; but one nation, of course.  As I go downstairs to eat Froot Loops, I make sure to smile in between bites so as to show my support not only for this high-sponsoring and delicious, fruity cereal, but for a nutritious breakfast as well.  I make a mental note, checking the “health freaks” off on my list of potential voters.

Out the door, I patriotically put my hand on my heart to salute my American Flag seat cushions before I sit on them.  I take my extremely expensive car to the school and park in the teacher’s parking lot (if you want to make it big, you gotta act big… right?).  Making sure to put the “Funds Needed, Vote for ME!” flyer on a few windows on the way in, I flash my award-winning smile and head through the front doors.

As I walk in, the hall monitor asks me why I am late.  It is tedious, but anything for my fans –I mean voters.

“The Prez is never late.  Everyone else is simply early.”  The expression on the hall monitors face turns to delight.

She squawks, “What a nice allusion to our friendly neighbors, the Brits!  And the clever use of slang, you must be so good with the youth!  I love your charisma, and completely understand that rules don’t always apply to someone of your status!”

I got off lucky since she was of my same political party, or it would have been detention for sure.

Taking her note in my left hand, I strut off and make sure to drop some pennies in the donation bucket on the way to class. I see my strategically made friend in the halls and stop to chat.

“Hey, what are you doing this weekend?” She asks.  I have to carefully analyze my answer, quickly going through the tips I have recently gotten from my speech writer about impromptu answers.  I must remember:  Everything I say can and will be held against me.

“Yes and No.”  I say, flashing my trademark smile once again, “That is an excellent question, and I will answer it. But, first, consider the bigger question:   what are we all doing this weekend?  As a friend group, will we find success in contemplating the possibilities alone, or in action?  I answer not only for the benefit of Bingham, but for the benefit of the world.

“Ask not what the weekend can do for you, ask what you can do for the weekend.  If Lincoln were here, would he be even considering not doing something for this weekend?

“Four years down the road, I will do something for this weekend and for America too.  However, before I address that, I implore you all to imagine the effect this will have on gun control.”

She looks imploringly at me, so she must be intrigued.

“I support freedom,” I say by way of explanation, and turn to leave.

On my way out, the principal corners me.  “Excuse me, but did you honestly think that you were going to get away with this?”  She glares down at me, “You cannot simply eat Froot Loops in plain sight of the hidden paparazzi and not expect consequences.  Did you even consider the effect this will have on healthcare?  American obesity is on the rise and you sit on your high horse eating that sugary filth?  You are in the Miner eye now and you have a responsibility to set an example…” I decide that my promise to go to class would not benefit Bingham if breakfast cereal is the issue that people really care about.  Without letting her finish, I turn and head home to find the old Cheerios.  It made the news.  I never made it to class.