A future President

In the distant future.

The President was tired. He understood why his predecessors had gone gray while in office. Heck, he was surprised he had any hair at all. Being President of the United States wasn’t a 9 to 5 job.  He remembered when he was a kid when Hillary Clinton had mentioned the “3 a.m. phone call.”  How many of THOSE had he received?  Now a phone ringing made him jump.  “What now?” he thought.

He splashed water on his face and stepped out of the Oval Office bathroom and into the office itself.  There was something about this room that energized him. He could almost feel the spirits of his predecessors.  He looked at the bust of Lincoln. He talked to him regularly.  He smiled — he knew the day Lincoln talked back, he’d resign. But he secretly hoped Honest Abe would give him some honest advice.  Lincoln understood all about a divided country. The President sat down in the chair as the makeup person applied the pancake.  “Just think sir, this speech will be on every cellphone and video screen around the country.”

No pressure.

The President thought about his speech he was about to give.  His speechwriters had poured countless hours into it. Economic experts had added their input. Party leaders had added their two cents.  Soup by committee.  He sighed and closed his eyes as the makeup person finished her work.

“Like polishing a turd.” the President quipped.  People had thought he was ruggedly handsome. He just felt rugged.  Three years of the worst economy since the Great Recession had beaten him up personally and in the polls.  Getting the economy going was like starting a car after someone had put sugar in the gas tank. Or restarting a wet campfire.

The President wanted to rub his temples, but he knew it would mess up his makeup.  His Chief of Staff walked through the room and she looked at her watch.  “Five minutes to showtime.” The President inhaled to his toes and exhaled.  “Here goes nothing,” he sighed.

He walked over and sat down at his desk. The room was already warmer from the extra lighting.  “Great,” he thought,” I will sweat like Nixon.”  His grandfather had told him about Richard Nixon.  Tricky Dick had a way about him, that’s for sure.

It was showtime.  The President took another deep breath and held it until the red light came on.  Three…..Two……One…….

“Good evening my fellow Americans. Tonight I come to you in a moment of great economic crisis.”

The teleprompter continued to roll but he just stopped.  There was a thirty-second pause — enough to cause his Chief of Staff to start waving her arms and turn a light shade of red.  The President took another breath and continued.

“I was supposed to give you a speech tonight about how I was going to propose a new Federal Program to fix this or fix that.  Don’t get me wrong, I think there is a place for a safety net and I’m going to do all I can do to make sure that you don’t fall too far.  But I can’t save you. No President can. I know, I know — this probably kills my chance for reelection — I don’t care. It’s time you heard the truth. You can do this.  I believe in you. But it’s up to YOU.”

The President paused, took off his glasses and looked right into the camera.

“Yes, I said it. It’s up to you.  You are going to turn this economy around.  And I’m going to cheer you on.  We have been blessed to live in the greatest country in the World. Yes, I just said that, too.  And I will repeat it. We have been blessed to live in the greatest country in the World. And for all its flaws, it’s still a land where dreams can and do come true.

I know I am supposed to blame the other party.  Or my predecessor.  Or the Man in the Moon.  Now is not a time for blame. Now is not a time for anger.

It is a time for belief. And I believe in you.

I know you are tired. You have every right to be.  The last three years have been hard on everyone.  I understand.  I once had to worry about putting food on my family’s table. I once went bankrupt.  To quote a former president, ‘I feel your pain.’

It’s time for us to get to work. To get busy.  My advisors and cabinet members are going to sit down to find ways to help get out of your way. To encourage you.

I believe in you. I believe in America. I believe it is time to end this economic depression once and for all.  God bless you and God bless the United States of America. ”

The red light went off and there was nothing but silence in the room.  The Chief of Staff (in a moment of disrespect) said, “What the hell was that?!?”

The President looked at her wearily and said, “The truth. The American people needed to hear the truth. It’s in their hands. And they need someone to believe in them.”

He rubbed his eyes again and said, “And if that gets my ass beat next election, so be it. ” He got up from his chair and walked back toward the living quarters, unaware that he had just lit a fire in the souls of Americans.  The Greatest Depression’s end was traced to that night. The night when Americans began to believe in themselves again.