Ever since Arnold Tobin sat on Harry Winkle’s wrap-around, covered, front porch and thoughtfully announced that he had been thinking about running for office, many of his thinking moments have been focused on how he should run for office — any office.

Arnold has a multitude of thinking moments during the course of any given day, mostly because thinking about doing something is much less taxing than actually doing something.

Arnold’s announcement has made breakfast at the diner much livelier. Sitting around the big table in the center of the room, Big John, Harry, Sal, Mort, Tommy, and Jimmy have something much more exciting to mix with their biscuits and gravy than deciding just who to blame for all of the world’s problems.

“Last week we had a primary election and no one showed up,” mused Arnold in between forkfulls of gravy and bites of jellied toast.

“I read that only 20 percent of the people that can vote, actually vote – that’s folks that are old enough, legal residents, and aren’t felons.” Mort matched Arnold, thought for thought and forkfull by forkfull.

“See what I mean?” Arnold slowed his gravy intake just long enough to expand on Mort’s point — which was actually an expansion of Arnold’s original thought. “That means that 80 percent of the people that can vote don’t even bother. I can relate to those people. There are a lot of things that I just don’t bother to do.”

Everyone at the table nodded in agreement.

“What would you do if you got elected?” Jimmy didn’t really care what Arnold would do, it was just his turn to say something.

“Nothing! I won’t introduce any new laws or ordinances. I won’t repeal anything, either. I won’t vote for or against anything. I’ll just leave things alone. No one ever promises to do nothing and that’s why I’ll appeal to the eighty percent that doesn’t vote. They don’t care how things turn out. They just want to know who to blame. Besides, if I don’t take a stand on any of the issues, you don’t have a reason to not vote for me.”

Everyone at the table nodded in agreement.

“Don’t you have to turn in a bunch of signatures to get your name put on the ballot?” Arnold’s campaign promise to do nothing aroused Jimmy’s curiosity. There could be value to Arnold’s thinking.

“That requires far too much effort. I don’t have to get my name on the ballot. People can write in my name for any office they think I would be the best at doing nothing. Maybe they could write my name in for several offices.”

Is that legal?” Either Jimmy was on a roll with his half of the conversation or everyone else had a mouthful of biscuit. “This ain’t Chicago.”

“I guess someone would have to prove to everyone else that it’s not legal. I can do anything I want until someone passes a law that says I can’t.”

Everyone at the table nodded in agreement.

 

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.