Arnold Tobin, being the creature of several bad habits, always started his afternoon walks from his place down the street and one block over. Strolling along with an unnecessary purpose, he would eventually end up at Harry Winkle’s place. From the comfort of his porch swing, Harry would toss out a greeting such as, “How’s the left side of your brain been treating ya?” knowing full well Arnold’s disdain for clichéd salutations.

“I decided I can’t get the gout. I’m too poor to buy rich foods.” Harry’s greetings deserved Arnold’s best responses.

Arnold’s best responses provoked a grin and an invitation to join Harry on the huge, wraparound covered porch to discuss the rights, wrongs and uncommitted indifferences of life.

Another Arnold habit is to start these conversations with, “Ya know what I’ve been thinking?” It wasn’t a clichéd greeting. He was about to tell you exactly what he had been thinking. “I’m thinking about running for office.”

“Which one?”

“Not sure yet. I’m going to let the media figure that one out. The news folks seem to like to point out someone and tell everyone else to watch this guy — he’s a rising star — probably going to run for Congress, or governor, or City-Something-or-Another. Some guy runs for governor, but the media types are busy telling everyone this guy is really running for president. They’re the ones always looking at polls. I’ll just announce I’m running for office and let them figure out what for.”

Harry thought about this one for a half-second and concluded that it almost made sense.

“What party?” Some reasoning would dictate that running for political office requires political affiliation.

“No party. Too much I don’t like and too little that I do like. I’ll run by myself and bring the party with me. Maybe I’ll get Al to help me — he does that St. Swithun’s thing. There is a certain amount of people that are only going to vote for their party, regardless of the idiots running. The news is always talking about the undecided voters and how they swing elections. But, lots of times more people don’t vote than do vote. If I can get a bunch of them to vote for me, I might be able to win something.”

Harry thought that Arnold might be on to something.

“My campaign slogan will be, ‘There is no reason not to vote

for me.’”

“I can’t think of any, just yet.”

I’ll promise people that if they vote for me I’ll never call them at home at dinner time — or probably ever.

“That’s a good one.”

“I’ll also promise to never make a promise I can’t keep.”

“Which means you’ll never make a promise?”

“Exactly.”

Harry mulled Arnold’s announcement around for a few moments and then declared, “I’d vote for you.”

“See what I mean? You never vote for anybody. I just need a bunch more just like you and I could win this thing — whatever it is.”

“How good are you at kissing babies?”

“I used to be good at kissing their moms.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.”

 

Larry Wilson is a mostly lifelong resident of Niles. His optimistic “glass full to overflowing” view of life shapes his writing. His essays stem from experiences, compilations and recollections from friends and family. Wilson touts himself as “a dubiously licensed teller of tall tales, sworn to uphold the precept of ‘It’s my story; that’s the way I’m telling it.’” He can be reached at wflw@hotmail.com.