An ideal choice for delegate

by David Grand
July 8, 2004

Since I have no plans for the immediate future, and certainly none for the distant future, I decided that I'd be the perfect one for the Republican Central Committee (RCC) to recommend to the governor to fill Carmen Amedori's still warm seat. And no, I wasn't hallucinating or intoxicated when I came to that conclusion.

Having to reregister as a Republican in order to be eligible for their consideration wouldn't be a major turn of events in my life or brand me (at least in my eyes) as a traitor to the Democratic Party, anymore than it did for Ronald Reagan who was a devout Democrat until 1962, as were any number of congressmen who switched parties, and current and former county office holders who finished "out of the money" when running as Democrats, who changed horses in order to make it to the winner's circle.

And I'd still be the same humorous, quick-witted, animal-loving, compassionate, opened-minded and perpetual optimist I've always been, regardless of what banner I marched under; and who strongly believes that compromise is not a dirty word, in not stereotyping others based on their gender, race, age, religion or political affiliations and in not taking "no" for a final answer when there's still a ray of hope. And although I fail miserably in managing my own finances, I'm a fiscal conservative when it comes to spending other peoples hard-earned money and in giving them "the biggest bang for the buck."

As concerns my qualifications for the job, I would offer the following: 

• I served directly under seven Republican Secretaries of the U.S. Department of Transportation. And I'm confident that all of them would, if contacted by the RCC, provide glowing appraisals of my abilities.
• I'm a pen pal of Laura Bush, exchanging pictures of our respective Scotties named Barney and descriptions of their antics. Plus, just recently I received a photo from the President signed "Best Wishes," like Reagan did.
• I've been an ardent supporter for placing slots at the racetracks for years on end, having written more columns on that subject than any other, and damming the current democratic House leader for his obstinacy.
• I've attended any number of fundraisers for Republican candidates, and seldom miss Sen. Haines annual picnics, even though it's mainly for the selfish reason of gouging on the yummies for the tummy which are served.
• I enjoy a cordial relationship with most members of the delegation, who believe like me that one's party label shouldn't get in the way of friendships, as well as with the chairwoman of the RCC Michelle Jefferson, with whom I exchange good-natured quips when we bump into each other, and who never fails to offer me an application to join the GOP.

Not that she has any right to be butting her nose into the selection process as she's said she plans on doing, Carmen would be the one person who would most vehemently oppose my being selected to fill her seat and probably threaten to burn her chair if I were to sit in it. For I know she'll never forget or forgive me for lampooning her in my columns for distorting the truth about charter government and in using its carcass to catapult herself into office. Personally, however, I admire her fighting sprit and stick-to-itiveness.

But perhaps the biggest obstacle I'd face in accepting the RCC's nomination would be what to do with my dogs when I'm gone for 90 days. However, with my getting paid $41,000, plus $150 a day per diem, I guess I could afford to hire a dog sitter and see 'em on weekends and holidays.

I'll have to give that some more thought before sending in my resume, which has to be postmarked by no later than July 12. But if I decide not to, it won't be because I don't believe that I'd be up to the challenge of serving the county's interests to the fullest, that I'm too old for the physical and mental rigors of office, or that the RCC would automatically consign my application to the "round file" and not deigning to interview me. For I take the GOP leaders at their word that their tent is open to all, even to old fuddy-duddy turncoats like me.