We are almost there.  It is now my turn to sound off.  I have no constituency, but I do know that I speak for a helluva lot of folks.  Listen up, candidates.  Let’s start at the beginning, with the letter “B”--with the word “bridge.”

        One senator, enamored of pork, the same malady afflicting many others of our esteemed legislators, tried to ensure either his immortality (not going to happen), his legacy (now known as “Senator Bridge to Nowhere”) and his re-election (seems to be working, won his primary), reportedly to accommodate a town of fifty or so persons.  That probably would have worked out to quite a few millions per person for the bridge. No worries.  The money after all was already in the Treasury, placed there by the efforts of Joe and Josephine Ordinary, the worker bees of this society, and their richer brethren, who in this human version of Animal Farm, are just slightly “more equal” than the rest of us when it comes to personal income tax.  They still pay, but not one of us--rich or poor--wants to “invest” in porker bridges.

        I like the idea of a bridge.  It suggests hope.  It suggests forward movement.  It suggests the future. But I want a bridge to somewhere.  That desire is first on my list for a president of the United States.  I want a forward-thinking president who will be bold, dream big dreams, not necessarily of unattainable grandeur, but of gritty pragmatism.  He could begin with building a bridge to good relations with the legislative branch of the government.  Please leave the tired phrase “bi-partisanship” out of the mix.  The last president who tried that found that he was almost alone on the “bi-partisan bridge,” indeed going nowhere.

        And we suffered.  Therefore I want to see the executive and legislative branches agreeing that while each may have a different viewpoint about governing, for the good of “we the people”--their nominal bosses--they will step away from the “party first” philosophy and put country first.  Try it.  It may just work if you expect to have a country left to govern.

        Ah, “governing.” I want to see a president whose governing style is modeled on the Biblical principles outlined in the Book of Proverbs. My guy should read that entire book which lays heavy emphasis on “wisdom.” Here we are worrying about a shortage of petro energy, when the real dearth is in the acquisition and application of wisdom! It is wise to stand up to the “divos and divas of deviancy” and just say “enough.” This country has already strayed too far from the decency and morality upon which it was founded. Is bestiality the next frontier to be conquered? There isn’t much else left.

        Men and women who want to get married and raise a family and, God forbid, have more than the Census Bureau’s 2.5 kids, are scorned in some quarters.  Get married, when you can live together in unmarried “bliss?”  Have a large family?  Have you not heard about “global warming” with all of that potential for more carbon footprints?  No, no, no!  Caribou footprints are all right, but not human!  Got it?  Republican VP candidate Sarah Palin has gotten an earful.  She is violating both the discouragement of human footprints and encouragement of caribou footprints.  She and her husband dared go beyond that 2.5 kids’ allowance.  Additionally she has “sinned” by inviting drilling in Alaska!  How dare she?  This one is almost unforgivable.  In this era of “choice”--excerpt for that baby that cannot escape the womb--she dared to not abort her Down Syndrome baby.  We do not want more humans encroaching on the land of the caribou, especially “less than perfect” ones.

        I would be honored to shake Trig Palin’s hand, and hopefully get a big hug from him.  In my experience, while Down Syndrome kids are diagnosed as having 47 chromosomes, an extra chromosome more than we “normal’ folks have, they were endowed by their Creator with an abundance of unconditional love in their hearts.  Their ability to love demonstrates that the rest of are the ones who could do with an extra chromosome!

        A few Saturdays ago, I went to the post office to pick up my mail, and as I was about to open the glass door to enter, I saw the smiling face of a little boy who was trying to pull open the heavy door for me. With a little help from me, he opened the door and gave me a big smile.  I was bowled over.  After picking up my mail, I saw a gentleman approaching with the little boy in his arms.  I asked him if he was the father and he nodded yes.  I told him that his son is a perfect little gentleman and recounted his strenuous efforts to open that door for me.  The dad told his son to give me some kisses for the compliment.  The little boy blew me some kisses.  All that I could think of was that I would have to retract my oft-stated comment that “chivalry is dead.”  Chivalry lives in a five-year old boy, with the same condition as Trig Palin.  I walked out of that post office as if I were floating on a cloud.  My only regret is that I did not have the presence of mind to ask the little boy his name.

        After that interlude of the little boy’s grace and generosity, it occurred to me that if his parents had chosen to abort him, he would not be in this world to spread his joy and lovingkindness.  What a grievous loss that would have been!

        So, Future President, we do not want our country to be known as the country of cheap goods, empty wallets, and broken souls.  Speaking of souls, I do not want any politician to ever again have the gall to disdainfully describe those of us who believe in God as “clinging to our guns and God.”  What the “God and gun-clinging” politician failed to realize is that we indeed cling to God as protection against the Jericho walls of unbridled ambition, greed, idiocy, and arrogance of many politicians!

        Speaking of walls, I am looking for a Joshua, who will have the courage to lead the destruction of the current political walls of Jericho.  While these modern day walls do not consist of mortar and bricks, they are even more dangerous and difficult to tear down, because they have become entrenched, protected by a bunch of “entitlementalists.”  To borrow from President Ronald Reagan, “tear down these walls,” Mr. Future President of these United States!

        Mr. Future President, while you are tearing down those political Jericho walls, please erect a wall of fiscal responsibility on the part of the government.  This country is borrowing itself into oblivion or the dust bins of history, whichever is closer on the horizon.  The American Taxpayer Machines keep filling the GMVM (Government Money-Vacuuming Machine) which sucks up and scatters our money into all kinds of wasteful schemes (read bridges and tunnels to nowhere) faster than a tornado can scoop up an entire town. I misspoke.  There is no comparison between an atmospheric tornado and a government money collection and spending agency.  The tornado loses the sucking up contest every time.

        “Sucking” evokes the imagery of some of the unscrupulous business practices that have victimized so many.  I am not of the “soak the rich” or “big business equals disciples of Satan” mindset.  Businessmen and women, operating big or small businesses, create jobs.  They contribute.  However, like “politicians gone wild,” we also have businessmen operating in the same fast lane of greed and lack of shame.  Some were recently brought to retribution and forced to do the “perp walk,” but too many are still “at large.”

        Mr. Future President, break the cycle of sleeping in the same hammock with those businessmen who have set up their own Dept. of Usury throughout the land, preying on the elderly, the ignorant, and the un-connected.  Their victims will never qualify for deals such as “Friends of Angelo,” to which some members of the legislative branch are apparently entitled.  I am willing to be friends with Angelo or Vito, if the deal is moral and legal, and my legs remain attached to my body!

        To conclude, I am not looking for a Nanny-in-Chief, who will dictate whom I should worship, how I should spend my money, how I should raise my children, or how many children I can have.  I do not want any president sending out the Carbon Footprints Monitoring Squad to check on my usage of light bulbs or the temperature of my thermostats.

        My criteria are simple and uncomplicated.  You, Mr. Future President, do not have to be endowed by the Creator with the ability to deliver teleprompter-driven flowery or buttery speeches.  I do quite well in the flower, flour, and butter sections at my local Trader Joe’s.  I want you to be able to address the American public and tell us the truth.  I want you to look at a bridge to nowhere and veto it.  You can borrow my pen.  I can even guide your hand through these uncharted veto waters.

        I almost forgot.  Close down the Bailouts R us/US Agency.  It does not help the cause when a story comes out that the mucky-mucks at AIG, “drowning” in $85 billion in bailout money, had quite a fiesta at the exclusive St. Regis hotel in the environs of Los Angeles.  When the details of the $440,000.00 party hit the fan, the second “educational purposes” junket was called off.  I don’t see why.  Show some real courage. Keep on trucking and mucking with other people’s money!  When you have millions of folks “voluntarily” contributing billions to your financial wellbeing, why stop at spending a paltry half a mil?  Reschedule…if you dare.

        Finally, Mr. Future President, you will have to give up your membership in the “good old boys” club, lifetime membership or not.  You now belong to “we the (American) people’' club.  That means that you place the interests of the American people above those of other nations.  Just so I make it absolutely clear, that means no “comprehensive immigration reform” plan that puts a dagger through the eyes, hearts, and stomachs of “we the people.”  By all means, love everyone, from whatever country, just love your fellow citizens much, much more.  Also, throw in a whole bunch of love and bouquets for our military.  You will be responsible for sending fresh-faced kids out to bleed and die for their country.  They are the sons and daughters of your fellow citizens.  I want a president who can respect, appreciate, and be worthy of leading the finest military in the world!

        If I omitted anything, I have faith in you, that having led you on a bridge to somewhere, and on the path to wisdom, you will do quite well in fleshing this out, just not with fiscal pork!   By the way, when you address us as “my fellow Americans,” mean it.  May God bless America and grant you wisdom.  The political life, the economic life and the cultural life of this nation hang in the balance.  Do not disappoint.  This is America, dammit.  Get us up off the floor.