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"Some Cynical Guy" No. 8: August 4, 2000

Bush vs. Gore: It Could Be Worse

I have to confess that the current American presidential campaign makes me yawn mightily. I'd rather watch a Discovery Channel documentary on the nesting habits of the pied-billed grebe. In fact, I'd rather be present at the tryouts for Slovenia's Olympic curling team. Here we are in the Year of Grace 2000, faced with the prospect of deciding who will assume the office once held by Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln and the two illustrious Roosevelts. And here we're presented with a pair of rival candidates who'd be better suited to preside over the Terre Haute, Indiana chapter of the Kiwanis Club. It's a pretty bleak state of affairs for the self-styled 'Greatest Nation in History.'

I write this nugget of observation as the Republican Convention is cranking up in Philadelphia, the same sober Quaker city that midwifed our nation to life more than two centuries ago. In fact, I'm in Philadelphia as I type these very words. You'd think any cynic worth his bile would relish the opportunity to pounce upon the sorry hides of Messrs. Bush and Cheney, and for that matter, Gore and his intended. How easy it would be to contrast them with the likes of Franklin, Jefferson, Madison, John Adams and the other noblemen of the spirit who once walked these same streets! Sure, I could fling a lance at Bush the Younger for his undeserved admission to Yale, his morbid fear of books or his stunning record as Lord High Executioner in Texas. I could heckle him for selecting as his running mate a defiantly dweebish archconservative with a history of three myocardial infarctions. It almost beats his father's choice of Dan Quayle back in 1988; you have to wonder if faulty running-mate selection is a genetically inherited Bush family trait. I could lampoon Gore for looking like a mannequin and coming across like a marionette, complete with strings. I could chastise him for basing his public utterances on pollsters' surveys; you get the impression that he'd come out in favor of giving dairy cows the vote if it meant winning the state of Wisconsin. I could go on, but what's the point of using up all that hearty cynical invective on such an underwhelming pair of presidential aspirants? I'm getting accustomed to political disappointment at four-year intervals; I'd rather save my poisoned arrows for the next major dung-art exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum.

I've been watching the carnival of U.S. presidential politics since Stevenson challenged Eisenhower back in 1956... I've been a student of the presidency almost as long... and the sad truth is that I've yet to witness a genuinely great chief executive in my lifetime. We haven't had one of those since FDR was toppled by his terrific headache in 1945 -- that's 55 years, count 'em, without a giant at the helm. JFK may have talked like a great president, and Reagan's supernatural luck lifted him above the common mortal, but in both cases their ghostwritten words outshone their deeds. We've now gone without a great president longer than ever before in the nation's history, including the famous drought between Lincoln's assassination in 1865 and the rise of Teddy Roosevelt in 1901. You know the period: all those interchangeable bewhiskered presidents who looked like the Smith Brothers on the cough drop box. What we fail to remember is that even those lackluster chief executives -- Hayes, Garfield, Arthur, Benjamin Harrison & Co. -- were without exception decent, conscientious and capable men who did credit to their office. That's more than we can say for the recent cast of characters, too many of whom have been either weasely or ineffectual -- and sometimes both.

Whether good ol' boy Bush or goody-nasty Gore -- surely the Eddie Haskell of American politics -- ultimately moves into the White House, we're faced with the most dismal choice since Harding and Cox vied for the presidency in 1920. How, you might ask, do we endure yet another four years of presidential doldrums? How do we contain our disappointment? Should we invite the descendants of Louis XVI to start a new dynasty on these shores if we promise not to behead them? Should we simply read 'People' magazine and look to celebrities like Leonardo Di Caprio as the leaders of public life? (Too late, we already do.) Here's my survival plan, for what it's worth: I'm adopting the "My Life as a Dog" coping mechanism. Allow me to explain. In the great Swedish film "My Life as a Dog," the young hero reflects on his fate as he's shuttled around to relatives while his mother lies dying of tuberculosis and his beloved dog languishes in a shelter. "It could be worse," he confides to us; "I heard about a guy who walked onto the field at a stadium and got a javelin through his chest. You have to compare." Sage words indeed; you DO have to compare. Instead of Bush vs. Gore, we could be faced with something infinitely worse: say Donald Trump vs. Richard Simmons, or Geraldo Rivera vs. Rosie O'Donnell, or Daffy Duck vs. Yosemite Sam. So what if Bush and Gore vaulted to national prominence with a little help from their daddies? It could be worse: they might have been given their own talk shows. And what's the calamity if either of them gets elected president? It could be worse: they might have been running on the same ticket. Or consider this: if the 22nd Amendment to the Constitution hadn't been passed in 1951, we could have been faced with another four years of Bill Clinton. Well, at least I wouldn't have been yawning.

© 2000 by Bridget Petrella Media Relations. "Some Cynical Guy" appears here by permission of the publisher. 

"Some Cynical Guy" column archive:
2002
81 -- A Brisk Walk Through the Ruins
80 -- The Fountain of Futility
79 -- Farewell to the Big House
78 -- The Cynical Guy Contemplates Cell Phones
77 -- Rich and Poor in Paradise
76 -- Dead Ducks: A Tale of the Food Chain
75 -- Old Comedians Just Fade Away
74 -- Suburbia Comes to Manayunk
73 -- When Nestlings Won't Leave the Nest
72 -- The Curse of High Standards
71 -- Inside the House of Horrors
70 -- The Post-Yuppie Handbook
69 -- Spring Reflections
68 -- Priestly Perversions
67 -- British Teeth: An Apology
66 -- The Sniffling Snout
65 -- Bullies with Social Skills
64 -- Supermarket Rage
63 -- Is the U.S. Really the Greatest?
62 -- The Holes in Our Armor
61 -- A Breath of Used Air
60 -- The Cynical Guy Has Sex
59 -- Let's Abolish the Seven-Day Week!
2001
58 -- Why Worry About the Future of Books?
57 -- The Friendly Face of Evil
56 -- Why We Live Where We Live
55 -- The Cynical Guy Discovers Talk Radio
54 -- Kite-Flying and Other Crimes
53 -- My Night as a Socialite
52 -- Gardening Is Not for Sissies
51 -- Invaders of the Honeysuckle
50 -- To Be a Cat
49 -- The Upside of Terrorism
48 -- The Vanishing Nerd
47 -- Anger Management for Cynics
46 -- Let's Level the Playing Field for Disadvantaged WASPs
45 -- First Impressions, Lasting Impressions
44 -- Close Encounter with a Go-Getter
43 -- Cheering for a Perennial Loser
42 -- The Cynical Guy Reads the Tabloids
41 -- When Does the Good Part Begin?
40 -- Confessions of an Internet Addict
39 -- The Decline of Punctuation and Civilization
38 -- Oh Baby, What a Nightmare!
37 -- The Cynical Guy Watches 'Xena: Warrior Princess'
36 -- A Night-Stroll into the Void
35 -- In Search of the Elusive Wild Tomato
34 -- Getting in Touch with Your Inner S.O.B.
33 -- The Lure of the Lurid
32 -- Black Tie and Beard Stubble
31 -- In Heaven There Is No Pez
30 -- Did You Make the Forbes Celebrity 100 List?
29 -- Redesigning Mt. Rushmore
28 -- On Listening to Dead Voices
27 -- Selling Your Soul on eBay
26 -- Sympathy for Colonel Klink
25 -- Democratic Celebrities in Exile
24 -- High School Revisited
23 -- A Farewell to Bachelorhood
2000
22 -- Requiem for a Middleweight
21 -- Is There a Gene for Tackiness?
20 -- How the Beautiful People Entertain Themselves
19 -- The Cynical Guy Gets Behind the Wheel
18 -- The Fickle Finger of Fame
17 -- Adventures in Bodybuilding
16 -- Some Don't Like It Hot
15 -- The Cynical Guy Watches Oprah
14 -- Sports Parents: Menace to Society?
13 -- Airfare Is No Fair at All
12 -- There's No Such Thing as 'New and Improved'
11 -- Celtomania!
10 -- The Naked Pate
9 -- Vanishing Act
8 -- Bush vs. Gore: It Could Be Worse
7 -- Who Wants to Be a Survivor?
6 -- Adventures in Heart Attack Prevention
5 -- Where Men Are Men
4 -- Thoughts While Listening to the Car Radio
3 -- History Is HISTORY
2 -- The Great Casino
1 -- Greetings from Your New Cynical Guy



Profile of a Cynic...

Photo of Rick Bayan

Rick Bayan was born and raised in New Brunswick, New Jersey, where he enjoyed an idyllic suburban childhood—the perfect background for a lifetime of cynical disillusionment.  He has held a number of typical jobs for an idealistic liberal arts graduate, including assistant editor of Rubber Age and managing editor of Container News.  At Time-Life Books he was assigned to write about plumbing fixtures.  His work as copy chief for Day-Timers, Inc., won six advertising awards, none of which dampened his cheerfully morose view of business and life.  He has written three books, including Words That Sell and The Cynic's Dictionary, and tons of junk mail.

Bayan, who claims to be a "kinder, gentler cynic," currently lives in Allentown, Pennsylvania. His weekly column, "Some Cynical Guy," is published and syndicated by Upbeat Online. 

 


 

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