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ALL HE WANTS FOR CHRISTMAS IS TO BECOME PRESIDENT

[8/16/18].

Alexander W. Benson II

Dean Howell is a politically correct man living in a politically incorrect world. He likes to imagine a world where everybody is equal and nobody gets rewarded for working harder than anybody else.

"It doesn't matter if one guy takes on all the risk, puts in all the research and development, and makes the greatest contributions to mankind," says Dean. His friends, who happen to be hanging out at the bar across the street every weekend, getting drunk off their stools, should get the same rewards. We are all part of the human family."

He believes that men and women have equal physical capabilities. "You say that men are stronger than women?" says Dean. "Nonsense. What are you crazy? When I look at girls, I don't see the opposite sex. I just see people. The same goes for black people.

"You look at one of them walking towards us, and you say 'look at that black man', says Dean. "Meanwhile, I'm looking, and I'm like, 'what black person? I don't see any black person'."

"You point him out to me and say, 'right there'," says Dean. "Finally, I see an Afro-American man walking right past us, and I'm like, you know, it is not nice to look at a man's skin color. We're all human beings, so I cannot tell when a man is black."

***

"I can remember when I was a kid, and I was sitting in my dad's living room watching television while eating spaghetti," says Dean. "Yep, my family was poor. If we was rich I would have been having caviar. Anyway, I'm watching Dr. Martin Luther Kind giving a speech on television. He was talking about having a dream. I turned it up all the way. My dad yells at me to turn it down. I told him that would be racist, so then he smacks me across the ears. He said I was going to ruin the television set that he paid for with his hard earned dollars. I tried to tell him that his excuse was just a cheap cover to mask his racist insensitivities toward the brothers and sisters who worked so hard to be our equals. Would you know that he gave me the belt for it?"

"He sent me to my room without supper," says Dean. "From the stairs, to show my vigilance, I listened to the television while my dad sat down and listened to it. I know it looked like dad was interested in civil rights, but I think he was trying to trick me into thinking he wasn't a racist. I heard the reverend talking about how one day, we would all be equals. I felt a stir of pride. Then came the part where it turned out somebody killed that guy. Probably the Ku Klux Klan."

"I ran down those stairs and started telling my dad that I'm going to take up the mantel where he left off, and I'm going to fight the oppression against my brothers and sisters," says Dean. "My dad called me an idiot. I told him how evil racists are, and they only try to keep us down."

"Then my dad asks me what do I mean by 'us'? says Dean. "I have a newsflash for you, Sonny Bobo. You're white. I'm white. You're mother's white. What do you mean 'us'?"

"I didn't get caught in his trap. I didn't answer him. You know what they say about getting into an argument with an ignoramus. Then I told him about how cowardly the police were. Why didn't they heroically catch the guys that did this to King? If I was a cop, he would still be alive."

"Would you know my dad told me that sometimes a box of rocks had more intelligence than I did?"

"I reminded myself that ignorant people try to use ad hominem attacks all the time because their 'real arguments' have no valid basis. I did what Jesus would have done. I didn't answer him on that count. You know, like the part where Jesus was brought to trail before the Romans, and he refused to answer any questions. He figured the last thing he was going to do was give his enemies more rope. They didn't hang him. It worked out for him because now he's a household name."

"I told my dad how one day I was going to be President, and I would free the black man," says Dean.

"My dad told me that Lincoln already did that," says Dean.

'I told my dad that was just an illusion," says Dean. "Slavery might have ended, but the road to end racism was far from over. I went on to tell him how someday I would be the president to wipe racism out completely, so that the children of tomorrow would have absolutely no idea what racism was, unless they open their textbooks and see pictures of the Klan, and Adolph Hitler."

"He told me that someday pigs would fly, too," says Dean, "so I told him but pigs can't fly daddy. He told me he still loves me, and to please, shut and go to bed. On my way up the stairs, my dad added, Dean, promise me this. When you hang out with people, please don't say ANYTHING. Okay? Think of it like a vow of silence that priests make."

"Naturally, I smiled and went to bed in an upbeat mood," says Dean. "Think of that, my dad, comparing me to a priest. The holiest people on the planet, and my dad already thinking I was equal to them. And here I was, a ten year old boy, and these priests he talked of were men. Old men mostly. A ten year old standing on an equal moral ground with a bunch of old priests with white hair. I thought to myself, I appreciate you comparing me to these great men, daddy, but I'll do you one better. I become greater than even these men of the cloth. One day, I'll become a man of the Oval Office. You mark my words. It is going to happen."

"On another note, I still fight for black people," says Dean. "Only I know how to help them because I don't think they are capable of doing it themselves. If that was true, then they never would have needed the Democrats. Take me, for instance. I've been a friend of the black man for ages. They have a friend in me. When I was little, I went to the big city with my mother. She kept telling me not to make eye contact with anyone. I said you always tell me to look at you when you're talking to me."

"That's when you're talking to me, or I am talking to you," says Dean. "When you're here, you don't look at anybody."

"What if somebody walks up to me and asks me a question?" says Dean.

"Then you ignore them/"

"All right, mommy," says Dean.

"I see a bunch of black kids hanging out on a subway car," says Dean. "I thought they looked kind of cool. They were talking loud and every other word was the "F" word. They wore their hats backwards. Being curious, I walked over to the guy carrying the radio on his shoulder with the music blasting in his ears. I asked him if I could play with them. Then I noticed they were all wearing sunglasses when the one with the radio looked at me, and the rest of them circled around me. A couple of them started shoving me. The next thing I know I was knocked to the ground and they all started kicking me, except for the fat one who was playing his tunes. When I woke up in the hospital the first things I saw was my mother.

"Mom," says Dean. "Why did you hair turn white? And one more question. Why am I wearing a dress with polka dots all over it? This thing is ugly."

"She started hugging me so hard it hurt," says Dean.

That was when I heard dad talking. "Don't you worry about those ******. They're all going away for a long time. What they did was wrong."

"Oh, daddy, it's not their fault," says Dean. "They didn't mean it. The just have all this pent up frustration from 300 years of slavery, plus that added 100 years of racism. White people made them like that."

"As for me, if I become President," says Dean, "I will fix all that is wrong with this country. I will end racism. My friends and I came up with this thing they call Affirmative Action. That will take care of everything. I will also get rid of sexual discrimination."

"If I'm President, I will get rid of crime by making guns illegal," says Dean. "That's right. Think about it. How are most crimes committed? With guns. If you take away guns, you take away crime. If people started using knives, then I will simply take those away too. People shouldn't be defending themselves anyway. That's why we have police officers. Take away guns, and put an officer on every corner in America, and crime will cease to exist. I know I don't have any evidence to back it up, but I know that it will work because I thought it up, and I'm never wrong."

"I've always been a hard working man," says Dean. "I am virtuous. I am ambitious. I'm the good guy. I'm a friend of the black man. I'm every woman's friend. I deserve to be President of the United States of America. I will protect you people form the dreaded Republican Party."

***

I am sitting with Dean Howell. I am interviewing him.

"So tell me," says I, "what was the defining moment that inspired you to enter the political fray?"

"I was watching television in my house when I was a kid," says Dean. "I saw a movie on the life of Doctor Martin Luther King. He preached about blacks and whites being equals. When the movie got to the part where he made a speech about having a dream, I felt a tingle in my chest. He said the whole thing clear in front of the Washington monument. I think he was standing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Lincoln was the guy who freed him."

"He died about a hundred years before King did," says I. "How could he have freed him?"

"I meant he freed his people," says Dean, "not him. Still, he freed him. When I saw that man sitting in that chair."

"I thought you said he was standing on the steps?" says I.

"It's the Lincoln Memorial," says Dean.

"Oh, you mean Lincoln," says I.

"Of course I mean Lincoln," says Dean. "Who else would be sitting there?"

"Back to your back-story," says I.

"My inspiration," says Dean. "He gives this speech. Have you heard it?"

"Yes, I've heard," says I.

"Say the words so I'll know you're not lying," says Dean.

"I can't remember the exact words," says I, "but I get the gist."

"Well the gist ain't gonna do it, buddy," says Dean. He points his finger at me and says, "You'd better stop lying to me. I don't like liars. I only deal with honest people. When I agreed to this interview, we made a tacit agreement that you're not going to put my words in some kind of a context. You hear me, buddy boy?"

"I think I get the picture," says I.

"I doubt it very much," says Dean. "Then some sick bastard shot him."

A brief pause.

"He died, you know," says Dean.

"So that's why we celebrate his birthday every year," says I. "I never would have figured that one out if it wasn't for you." I try to make the sarcasm obvious.

"Luckily for you I'm here," says Dean. "Then I stood up and raised my fist in the air. I will avenge your death, you good holy man, you. That was when my dad walked into the room."

"He didn't like you yelling too loud," says I.

"No man," says Dean. "He beat me because he's a racist. I was showing I am a friend of the black man by feeling wrath at the injustice that happened to the late doctor, and I welled with pride because I felt like I was one with the black man, and my old man gave me a beat down for it."

"Are you sure it wasn't because you were behaving like an idiot?" says I.

"Hell no," says Dean. "I just told you the reason. My dad was harboring racist sentiments, but instead of admitting it to his family at some intervention, he buried his feelings deep down inside, and took his prejudices out on me. I still don't think he liked it when I hung out with black kids on the subway car."

"Was that when they tried killing you, and you wound up in the hospital?" says I.

"Yes it was," says Dean. "Would you believe that my dad wanted hunt them down like wild animals? I told him the only reason they did that was because of racism in America. White people made them do it."

"So, why do you want to be President?" says I.

"Because I'm the best man for the job," says Dean.

"Would you care to elaborate?" says I.

"Sure would," says Dean. "I think I can get rid of racism by instituting Affirmative Action across the board. It will be everywhere, and once the black man becomes equal to the white man, all the racially motivated violence will be a thing of the past."

"Crimes will still happen," says I. "Most black people get killed by other black people. How would your policy end that?"

"You're not thinking hard enough," says Dean. "I'll tell you. Guns. Guns kill people. Black people don't kill other black people, like what you would have people believe. Guns do. I'll get rid of all the guns in this country, and then crime will be vanquished to the sea."

"You sound like an idealist," says I. "On what grounds do you base your argument? You haven't mentioned poverty. Don't you think you should do something about that instead, like maybe making our educational system tailored toward marketable skills in the twenty first century?"

"Now you're jumping way outside the box," says Dean. "That is completely irrelevant to the point I am making. As a matter of fact, wasn't that a loaded question?"

"Sorry," says I. "How about I just ask about poverty?"

"No," says Dean. He points at himself. "I was talking about guns. You've got to quit changing the subject. You got something to hide?"

"I'm not the one on trial," says I.

"So says the guilty man," says Dean.

"I am interviewing you, stupid," says I.

"Nobody talks to me like that," says Dean. "You got any idea who I am? I'm out of here. I knew something was amiss when you couldn't recite the late Doctor King's speech."

***

I am interviewing his father, Dean Senior.

"Your son says he grew up in coal miner's family," says I.

"That's hogwash," says Senior. "I was the town doctor. Has he been telling you stories about me?"

"That's why I'm interviewing you," says I. "I have to find out who is telling the truth."

"Well, you're not going to get it from him," says Senior. "That's for sure. The boy's an atheist, you know?"

"Okay," says I. "I don't see how that's relevant."

"You don't see how that's relevant?" says he. "Boy, have I got to fill you in. I'm a Christian, GOD-fearing man. I tried to raise the boy right. He was always lying. I used to tell him 'you know what happens to little boys who lie, don't you?' Then I'd have to tell him where he was going when he died. Then I asked him that when he dies, doesn't he want to go to heaven so he could meet me, his mother, and everybody else that he loves? I told him if he desired that outcome, then he would have to stop lying. You see, I don't lie because I don't want to go to hell when I die."

"Sounds like you were a good role model," says I.

"Too bad it didn't work," says Senior. "Look at him. You said you interviewed him. Quite a character, isn't he?"

"Well um," says I.

"You don't have to be bashful," says Senior. "I don't care if you admit he's an idiot. I love him, but he's still a baboon. Did you know he used to tell people I owned slaves?"

"Did you?" says I. I blushed, so in order to recover from my blunder, I changed it to, "Did your ancestors?"

"My family goes way back," says Senior. "We go back to the beginning, almost. Vermont has almost always been a free state."

"You said almost always a free a state," says I. "So let me see. Your first male ancestor probably owned slaves."

"We don't go that far back," says Senior, "and besides, the boy told people I had chains shackled to the wall in my basement. He told them that was where I kept my slaves."

"So there was nothing down there?" says I.

"No," says Senior, "I had chains."

"I thought you said your family never owned slaves," says I.

"We didn't," says Senior. "When Dean used to act up, I'd haul him down in the basement and shackle him to the wall."

"You're a cruel bastard," says I.

"Watch the mouth," says Senior. "Show the proper respect."

"But you just told me you used cruel and inhumane punishment on your own son," says I.

"That was just for when he really started going bananas," says Senior. "When he got like that, it was all I could do. It was either that, or commit him to the funny farm, and although I don't respect him, I still love the boy."

"Okay," says I. "I wanted to ask about your son running for President. I wanted to know, right from the people who know him best, what motivates him?"

"He's a horse's ass," says Senior.

"I thought you didn't swear," says I.

"Ass isn't a swear word," says he. "It's kind of like the word 'hell' and 'damn'. Neither of those are swear words."

"What do mean, he's a horse's ass," says I.

"You know the back end of a horse?" says Senior.

"Yes," says I.

"Do I need to draw you a picture?" says Senior. "Don't you know what a horse's ass looks like?"

"Sorry," says I. "I thought you were just using a figure of speech. Can you give me something for my time?"

"I'm not paying you money," says Senior.

"I know," says I. "I mean, can you tell me something I don't know."

"Hm," says Senior, "let me see. Now that I think about it, he is a legend in his own mind."

"He thinks he's the Lone Ranger?" says I.

"Close," close," says Senior. "When he starts getting up on his soapbox, he isn't doing it to help people. He does things like that because he thinks he is greatness personified. When he helps people, I mean giving as little as possible, just enough to say he gave the poor something, and he has to have his picture taken when he does it. No camera, no charity. Sure, he might donate five bucks to the Salvation Army during Christmas, and he could even throw a few pennies in the kettle when he sees their workers outside, but that about it."

"Thank you," says I. "It's been a pleasure interviewing you."

He is about to leave without saying a word, but just as he puts on his scarf to brave the cold Vermont winter outside, he turns to me. "There is one thing. He'll talk a good game about helping people, but he won't do anything. He'll just tell me he is a hard worker, but he'll just sit there on his can. You know how he goes on his rants about racism. He belongs to a country club that won't allow blacks to join."

Then he goes out into blizzard, never to be seen again, until the next spring thaw when they found his corpse. He was only fifty feet away form safety.

***

I am interviewing a former campaign manager that put together one of Dean Howell's political campaigns.

"How would you describe Dean Howell?" says I.

"A whiny brat," says the former manager.

"Can you elaborate?" says I.

Certainly," says he. "You know how a kid acts on Christmas morning? He opens the first present. There is all this anticipation. He is so thankful. He opens it, and once he sees what it is, he thanks everybody. Then he opens the next gift. Same thing, only not as much drama. Then he thanks everybody, but it starts sounding a little forced. Third present. Rip. He doesn't bother thanking anybody. Then he starts looking for the other presents. Once he finds the next one, he rips through it, and then another, and then another. Suddenly, tragedy strikes. He keeps looking, but he can't find any. He asks, 'Where are the other presents?' His parents tell him there aren't any. Now it is somebody else's turn. He throws a tantrum. He's not interested in anyone else's turn. All he wants is more, more, more. Finally, his dad tells him Santa Claus will come back and take all the presents back if he doesn't knock it off right now. He becomes incensed that the presents could be taken back, even though he didn't do anything to earn them. He'll even go so far as to say something along the lines, 'let him come. I'll be waiting up all night for him to show his fat ass at the door, and I'll use my Red Rider on him. Let's see if all that fat can stop a b.b.' The funny part is it will be with the very b.b. gun that Santa Clause gave him."

"I thought his dad got it for him," says I.

"Santa Claus. Dad. Same difference," says the manager.

***

I am interviewing Sharp Alexander. "Tell me what you think about Dean Howell."

"I's goin to do him in fronta da whole town," says Sharp. "I've studies his every move. I watched his film from when he that speech to those kids in the elementary school. I know what he's going to do or say even before he does."

"Sounds like you've put in some effort," says I.

"Yes I did," says Sharp. "I think I'm addicted to cigarettes now."

I look puzzled. "Why would you be addicted to nicotine?"

"I went through two packs of cigarettes," says he.

"Two packs? That's forty cigarettes!" says I.

"No, two and a half packs," says Sharp.

"But it was a speech before a bunch of third graders," says I.

"I didn't smoke it in front of them," says Sharp. "I watched from my home theater."

"But the speech was only half an hour," says I.

"I watched it several dozen times," says Sharp. "I spread it out over a couple of days."

"Sounds like you really put forth a lot of effort into this thing," says I.

"Every good coach, as well as general knows this saying, 'know thine enemy'," says he. "Always come over prepared. That way, you can always cut back."

"You sound like you really want to nail Dean Howell," says I. ,

"That's an understatement," says Sharp. He leans toward the camera. His eyes darken as he focuses on the cameraman. "I hate the guy. I'm gonna pin him up. I'm going to crucify him. The minute he opens himself up, the instant he lowers his guard, I'm going for the one two knockout punch. Then I'm gonna jump on him and start stomping a mud hole in him and walking it dry. You mark my words. Dean Howell is going to be sorry the day he crossed paths with the Reverend Sharp Alexander. Peckerwood won't be thinking it funny when he counts the lights on da ceiling."

***

Sharp and Dean are at the debate. "You gonna let a black man run for Vice President?" says Sharp. "You belong to a country club that discriminates against my people."

"You hold on there," says Dean. "That is an unfair analogy."

"You know any black people?" says Sharp.

"I have black friends," says Dean.

"Name one," says Sharp.

"Jesse Jackson," says Dean. "I've got another one, too. What's the name of that woman who just left the Oval Office? She left because the President is a racist."

"She knew that before she went in," says Sharp.

"Not before she went in," says Dean, "and she has no reason to lie."

"She's making money off of it," says Sharp.

"She's not capitalizing," says Dean. "She didn't know this beforehand. She saw the light, and now she's writing that book as a way to warn everybody else to watch out for the President. He's a racist."

"They all honkies, so they all racists," says Sharp. "Maybe except for Obama. How you know the Omarosa woman?"

"Who? Says Dean.

"The woman you been talking about?" says Sharp. "You mean to tell me you don't even know her name?"

"I forgot," says Dean. "However, I follow her on Twitter."

"How you friends with her?" says Sharp.

"Because I just told you," says Dean. "I follow her, and although I haven't found her on Facebook yet, as soon as I do, I'm friending her. That ought to shut you up. I notice you like to shift the burden of proof back and forth a little bit."

"How so honky?" says Sharp.

"I'll tell you how," says Dean. "You expect me to know every pertinent detail about infinitely complex things that are impossible to remember, but all you have to do is say they're all racist. Who are they?"

"The Presidents," says Sharp, "with the possible exception of one.'

"Bill Clinton," says Dean.

"Hell no," says Sharp. "I'm talking about Obama, and while you bring up Jesse Jackson and Bill Clinton, did you know that Clinton's a racist, too. He used to call Jackson the "N" word.

"Clinton's not a racist," says Dean.

"Yes he is," says Sharp.

"But he can't be racist," says Dean. "He's a Democrat."

"You're racist, too," says Sharp.

"No I'm not," says Dean. "You got it all wrong. The Republicans are racists. The Democrats are pro-black."

Sharp shakes his head and smiles. 'You know what they say? Don't ever try to reason with a fool."

Dean doesn't hear this. "I'll tell you what." Dean holds up two fingers then raises his third finger. He points at Sharp. "If you elect me President, I will fight for you. When Dean Howell is in the White House, minorities will get representation. When you elect me, you will have a friend in the White House because I'm not prejudiced."

"I'm not voting for you," says Sharp. "I'm voting for myself."

"When I am President, I will still be your friend," says Dean.

"I'm not your friend," says Sharp.

"That doesn't matter because I'm still going to be your friend," says Dean.

"Then let me join your country club," says Sharp.

"I don't get to decide that," says Dean. "You'll have to take it up with the Committee that runs my club. I wish I could help you, but if I got you in, they'd kick me out."

"So the truth comes out, does it?" says Sharp. He bugs his eyes out. "You admit it. You are a racist."

"I'm not racist," says Dean. "I already explained it to you. I'm a Democrat."

"But you just said you wouldn't let me into your private club for rich white men," says Sharp.

"I didn’t say that," says Dean. "I'm not the one who's banning you. It is the Committee that's making that decision. I'm not the racist. They are."

"Whatever you say, Peckerwood," says Sharp.

***

Flashback to Dean's speech before the parochial elementary school. Dean is standing in front of Suzy Creamcheese's class of third graders. "Kids, do you like watching movies? I'm a Democrat, so I'm one of the good guys. My opponents are the bad guys. Republicans are evil people who will enslave you. I'm the one who's gong to make you free."

A kid asks, "Didn't Abe Lincoln free the slaves?"

"Yes he did, Jimmie," says Dean.

"Wasn't he a Republican?" says Jimmie.

"He was a Democrat," says Dean.

"He was a Republican," says Jimmie.

"Look, kid," says Dean with a scowl. "The day that a little snotnosed brat gives me a history lesson. That will be the day when you tell me my own business. Do you have any idea who I am? I'm running for President."

"But this book says he was the first Republican president," says Jimmie.

"Does it?" says Dean. "That book has a Republican bias. You know, you can't always believe what you read in books. Besides, that was a long time ago. He's no longer a Republican because he is dead, so there."

"What if there is a heaven for Republicans?" says Jimmie.

"There couldn't be," says Dean. "Haven't you heard anything I've been saying? The Republicans are the bad guys. I'm one of the good guys. When you daddy elects me President, I'm going to protect you from the big, bad Republicans."

"But my dad hates you," says Jimmie. "He tells me all you Democrats are interested in is getting elected. That's why he votes Republican."

Dean blushes as he lowers his head in defeat. He slumps as he walks out of the room. It will be the last time he set foot in that room.

***

Dean Howell's dream sequence. Dean sees a roomful of children. They are all whimpering because a Republican won office. He is standing just offstage, waiting in the wings. "Don't worry children. I'm here. Dean is much closer than you think."

He sees a Republican strut into the room, brimming with confidence. Dean runs out to stop him. The Republican morphs into a wolf and kills Dean, tearing him into a thousand bite-sized pieces, eats him, and then craps him out.

Dean wakes up in a cold sweat. Then he has a moment of inspiration.

He gets onstage at a rally, and another leading candidate walks up. They meet at the center of the stage. Hoping to cash in on the publicity that Madonna and Britney Spears generated with their lesbian kiss, he turns to the crowd and announces, "I'm pro-gay rights. And to prove it, I'm going to do this." He grabs the Senator, and plants one right on the lips. The Senator stands there stunned. The crowd is silent. The Senator turns red and starts shaking. Then he punches Dean's lights out.

***

I need to have a part where Dean is telling people how his opponent used the "N" word.

"My opponent is the not the right man to lead you, people," says Dean. He has used the "N" word. Only evil people use the "N" word."

"Aren't you an atheist?" somebody asks.

"How do you mean?" says Dean as he places his hand over his heart, with a look of indignation.

"You never go to church," says the audience member.

"I don't need to go to church," says Dean. "I'm already a righteous man."

"Only believers go to church," says another audience member.

"No," says Dean. "Some pretend to be something they're not. People who go to church have an inferiority complex. They're compensating for something else. You see, if they were already good holy men, then they wouldn't need to go to church. They lack something deep inside, so they go to church to convince themselves they are good people. But I'm already good people, so I don't need to go."

"You were saying something about only evil people using the "N" word," says the first audience member.

"Yes I did," says Dean. "I have never used it. People who use that word are the worst people on the face of the planet."

"How about bank robbers?" says the member.

Dean shakes his head.

Somebody else asks, "What about house burglars?"

Still no answer.

"How about rapists?" says another.

"How about murders?" says another.

"What about child molesters?" says the guy behind him.

"And while I'm at it, how about the politicians who got together with the businessmen, and outsourced all our manufacturing jobs to China?" says a man up front.

"How about when the government likes to take somebody's land from them, all without paying them one red cent for it?" says somebody in back. "And this is after the owner spent his whole life paying off a mortgage for thirty years. By the way, when I said one red cent, I was being sarcastic about the red."

Dean is shaking his head. Now he is bewildered. "People, let me stop all of you. I'm going to answer you like this. The Nazis were evil people. The Nazis used the "N" word. Need I say more? Thanks for having me here people. That will be all. I look forward to your vote on Election Day. I appreciate you electing me to be your next President. It will be fun."

THE END