What I Look For In A President

I remember watching Richard Nixon's funeral on television as a child. It seemed beautiful, noble, honorable. American flags waved, women cried, and everybody seemed to be wearing the same suit (quite a flashy ensemble, i might add). An enormous procession surrounded the president's remains as it moved slowly down Pennsylvania Avenue. As I recall, the sun was shining.

Eventually the motorcade came to a stop. Suits piled out of every vehicle and assembled, shoulder-to-shoulder, along the side of the road. A group of marines emerged from the crowd, walking like tin men in the direction of an enormous American flag. They raised their rifles and fired their twenty-one shots into the air. The sun continued to shine.

My mother entered the room with a chuckle. "Nixon. He was an asshole," she said, and handed me a snack. I was dumbfounded. I could not comprehend that an asshole could receive such a hero's finale.

A few years later I spoke to my grandfather shortly after an election. In school I had learned that Bill Clinton was the President of the United States, and he seemed like a nice guy.

"Granddad, who did you vote for?" I asked.

"Mickey Mouse," he replied. "I have written-in Mickey Mouse since the '70s, since that asshole Nixon," he said.

That, I must admit, is admirable. This guy must have been a real piece of work, I thought.

As I got older, went to college, and researched this asshole for myself, I learned some interesting things. I found that Nixon was the first American leader to establish diplomatic relations with China (a relationship which comes in handy these days). I read about how he initiated environmental regulation in industry. I learned of his extreme mistrust of Jews, his impish personality, his perpetual five o'clock shadow. I heard that he had grown up a mama's boy and learned to drink, swear, and gamble in the military during World War II.

I chuckled to myself when I listened to his oval office recordings, listening him constantly rant about everything. I burst out in an obnoxious fit of laughter when I heard that he had been sold out on Watergate by a man with the code name Deep Throat. I actually felt a bit of pity when I realized what a confused, paranoid man he truly was. And I was enraged to find that this right-wing prick was elected largely by drugged-up hippies who saw nothing more in him than an anti-war platform (a platform that did not come to fruition until after he was forced to resign from office after having served an entire term).

Richard Nixon has been ingrained upon my mind as the embodiment of the U.S. Presidency. As Hunter Thompson once said, "Nixon was the kind of guy who could shake your hand and stab you in the back at the same time." He was a power-hungry little rambler, a creature from hell with a nice suit. He was a bitter little boy who grew up to rule the world, only to crank himself back down to obscurity with a stupid little scheme pulled off in a cheesy hotel.

I have come to believe that he was, in fact, an asshole.

But if the business of America is business, who better to serve as hand-shaker than an asshole? Who better to lead the free world than an imp with a chip on his shoulder? In my mind, nobody embodies the spirit of American politics better than Richard M. Nixon...nobody.

Chew before you swallow,
Mr. Cleveland