It’s been an uphill battle, and the odds are still against me, but with two weeks to go in the election campaign I am happy to report that I am closing in on my goal: meeting and being photographed with every single one of you.
First – and I can’t stress this enough – please stop touching me. I myself may make the decision in the presence of the cameras to touch you in a manner generally perceived to suggest playful affection. But my RCMP guys have strict instructions to take down anything taller than two feet that approaches me. Just ask Bob Fife.
Second, above all else DO NOT TOUCH MY SMILE. I bought it for the campaign and need to keep it in mint condition if I’m going to return it for refund on Oct. 15.
Third, I am not Santa. Stop asking me for stuff. (Note: This does not mean I won’t eat your plate of cookies.)
Fourth, I’ve got your nose. Yes I do! Yes I do!!
Fifth, I’m not sure exactly what you girls out there are learning in school, but let me assure you that the capital of Montana is Helena. I’m not even certain there is a town called Hannah.
Sixth, I know you’re all precocious and everything, but just stick to what my campaign organizers tell you to say, OK? It’s written there on the card. And for the record the word is pronounced mah-jore-ih-tee.
By way of conclusion, let me just point out that as children, you are the country’s “future” and whatever. But what matters more is that you are my “present.” You humanize me in a way that even stylish acrylic cannot. Also, we’re up against the clock here, so it would help me out a lot if you could come out to the curb and wait for me there when I arrive on your street. Remember: ugly children in the back, pretty children up front, pregnant teens behind the shrubbery.