I have a solution to our political problems. We just have to change our criteria for what we're looking for in elected officials.
I used to say no one should be a senator unless they'd worked for wages, met a payroll, and served on a township board.
That's still not a bad idea, but I think we can do even better. I think we should only elect bald people.
Or maybe ugly people. I don't have all the details worked out.
Stay with me on this. What's killing us now in Washington is that people can't seem to compromise; they all want to get everything their own way. When you're bald, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you live in an unfair world. You know you can't have what you want and instead settle for taking what you can get.
Take a look at the Republican candidates for president. You can't pick up a newspaper or magazine without reading about what a pathetic group they are. Even the people who like them don't appear to like them too much. And I'm telling you – during the debates there's an awful lot of good hair up there on the podium. Coincidence? I don't think so. It's still the Christmas season and I'm trying to be a good person, but take a moment and think of the most spoiled, bratty, obstructive politician you know. Okay...how much hair is on top of that spoiled head? I rest my case.
I used to have hair, you know. For a while in the early 70's, I had a lot of hair. In fact, when we came home from our honeymoon in 1975 it took almost an hour for us to clear customs to get back into the country. And that was from Canada! No one really said it was because of my hair, but when we hit the border south of Winnipeg and the customs agent climbed on the Greyhound bus, looked up and down the rows and then pointed his finger at my wife and me, it seemed a little suspicious.
I suppose it was in the early 80's that I could no longer deny that the hair was going. I'd had my suspicions since I was a teenager, but the hairline soon started heading north with alarming speed.
This was in the pre-Rogaine days, so I had two choices. The comb-over, which just seemed like too much bother. You have to let 12 strands of hair grow a foot long, you need complicated swoops and swirls, and when you live in a place where the wind hits 40 MPH there's always the possibility of your hairdo going badly awry. The other possibility was complete surrender, which is what I opted for. I started cutting my hair shorter and combed it straight back.
And started wearing hats.
There have been two results from going bald. Number one, I have a lot of hats. Number two, since I know I can't look good, I don't fret about appearances. You're never going to find me missing the key point in a discussion because I was distracted by whether my hair looked good. I don't think those Governor GoodHair types can say the same thing. Plus, all those good looking people end up having affairs with each other, which is an enormous distraction for them, not to mention the media.
So, if you want to clean up the mess in Washington, send some folks who've spent their lives compromising, whose every encounter with a mirror ends with, “well, I guess that's the best I can do.” We need some folks who are used to ugly and cleaning it up as best they can.
Just don't send me. I've suffered enough.
Copyright 2012 Brent Olson