Blog: Burt for President

I don’t know whether I have been hallucinating lately, simply imbibing too much holiday cheer or playing around with controlled substances, but I could have sworn I heard a rumor a few months back that Kanye West was planning to run for president in 2020. Things have gotten so “Alice in Wonderland”-like that I don’t know what to believe anymore.   

Two of the leading GOP candidates are a real estate magnate who insults everybody and then proudly boasts that the very people he insults actually adore him, and a pediatric neurosurgeon who is especially gifted with hospital instruments, but seems to fall asleep mid sentence when he tries to answer a question. If these two can lead the pack of Republican candidates, then why shouldn’t Kanye — a rapper known for telling Taylor Swift she didn’t deserve the music award she had just been given — run for our highest office?

Based on the new standard, an utter lack of qualifications, I hereby announce that I intend to explore the formation of an exploratory committee to determine whether and when I should throw my hat in the proverbial ring. Please understand what I just said. I am not forming an exploratory committee, simply exploring the possibility of forming an exploratory committee. When you live in Malibu, there is no need to rush into anything. 

I fervently believe that I am as unqualified as many of those now seeking the presidency, and, therefore, the lack of qualifications makes me eminently qualified to run for president. If you are having trouble following this course of reasoning, imagine what a tough time I’m having trying to sort out what is going on in our country.

Now, let’s get certain things clear from the outset: If I decide to run in 2016, 2020 or any other time while I am still alive (or perhaps after I have departed, since many of the current candidates are stiffs), I have no intention of going to Iowa nor to New Hampshire. I have been to both states, and if you think I am leaving Malibu to go there or anywhere else, you have got to be crazy. Only a few thousand people vote in the Iowa caucuses, so if they want to shake my hand, they can come to Malibu.

As for my position on the issues, I don’t see why this is particularly relevant. The other day, I heard a woman exclaim about Trump, “I love him. I don’t care what he stands for.” My kind of lady. I trust people will simply love me for who I am, not for what I will do if elected.

If I do run, I intend to be a two-issue candidate, and I assure you I will win in a landslide. First, I will sew up the over 60 vote — we turn out to vote more than any other age group. If elected, I will declare an absolute moratorium on any new technology. Yes, you heard it here first in The Malibu Times: no new technology. This is an even more powerful slogan than “no new taxes.” 

We need at least four years to digest all the technology that has been invented in just the past few years. I am having great difficulty keeping up with DVR, DVD and DV any other letter, to say nothing of Bluetooth, Blu-ray, etc. There simply needs to be a limit to all this Uber and Waze. The list is endless. We older folk can’t even find our passwords. Give us a break. We need a timeout.

As for the women’s vote, I can outdo Hillary any old time. As president, I will triple the number of women’s bathrooms in all facilities. Lest you think this is not an issue of great import, trust me, it is. Many years ago, I went to a Broadway show and decided to take advantage of the men’s room before curtain time. There was, as usual, no line for the men’s room and not a soul using it. The line to the women’s facility snaked through the lobby. 

Having had a drink for dinner, I was less inhibited than normal and so I shouted to those women in line, “Why don’t you use the men’s room? There is nobody in there, and I shall stand guard.” I never expected the response I got. As one, the women ran toward the men’s room and praised me as I have never been praised before or since.

As I was relishing my moment in the sun, a man came before me and wanted to use the bathroom. “There are women in there,” I said protectively, “and they should be out any minute.” Unfortunately, women seem to be slower — make that much slower — in their use of the facilities than their male counterparts. Before too long, a number of other men approached and they became visibly and growingly impatient. I shouted into the men’s room for my lady guests to get on with whatever they were doing, but no amount of imploring seemed to do the trick.

Finally, the men broke through my guard, and I don’t know how it all ended, because I, not a man of courage, ran for the hills. But what I learned, and I will use it as a mainstay of my campaign, is the importance of this issue to the fair-haired portion of our population. 

I fully expect to capture a minimum of 90 percent of the women’s vote and a similar percentage of those voters over 60, so I should make Ronald Reagan’s reelection landslide look like a narrow victory.

So stay tuned and I will keep you informed as to how my election plans are progressing. And, finally, if any of you take my candidacy seriously, then it only underscores how we as a nation have completely lost our sanity.

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