Hi. I'm Johnnie Carrier, a simple man who woke up from a three-day drunk 23 years ago, only to find that he was living in this fair city of North Adams.
Once I kicked the sauce, I found it to be a lovely place with a rich and historical manufacturing background that dates back to the start of an Industrial Revolution that modernized and changed America forever.
And it's because of this proud, blue collar heritage that I am announcing my candidacy for the highest office in the city, the office of mayor.
Do I feel I could do a better job? Who knows? I've never been a mayor before, so why would I bull er so why lie to you and tell you I could? Frankly, I don't know what a mayor does.
Do I feel that in these delicate and frustrating times the city of North Adams needs a man like me? No. I don't have the capacity for a lie so strong and brazen as that.
Oh. So it must be the present mayor is doing a poor job and should be removed from office.
No. He's always greeted my wife and me with a smile. Plus, I don't know enough about the inner workings of the office to say such a thing.
What about the challenger? He must be a rake and the prince of darkness all rolled into one and must be stopped. I can't say that, either. I've never met the man. He seems alright, except for the fact that he is a banker -- not a job I would be proud of -- but I come from a long line of horse thieves, so what do I know?
I don't speak of change or
No, my fellow citizens, I seek the office of mayor through a simple write-in vote platform of ego, power and the need of a free city car for my personal use, just to impress my in-laws (for once).
I want to ride in a convertible in the Fall Foliage parade and wave to the minions who have voted me into office. I want to point and smile as if I really care to the real people who'll whisper amongst themselves of the wonderment of what it would be like to be the king of such a fair and noble city.
I want to walk down the street before work and have the commoners nod and say, "Good Morning, Mayor." I want city employees to feel safe enough to tell me a bawdy joke and whisper as I walk away, laughing, of what a tool I am. For we all know that's how we, the real people, treat politicians and those who are in power. Not because we really think badly of them, but because of our own bitter resentment of people in high places.
I want the power that comes with the election to high office to carry over to my long-suffering wife. It would please me greatly to give her a decent and proper title of First Lady, rather than that of a saint for having survived such a long time with me.
I want to affect the lives of the citizens who live within the city limits by my flip-of-a-coin decisions. I want to feel important and yell toward the heavens, "King of the world, Ma! King of the world!"
Not city councilor important. Everyone knows that's just a part-time job that forces you to miss a good night of Tuesday television. I want real power. I want to prove John Dalberg Acton's axiom of how power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. I want to feel it, to taste it, to see it and smell the power of highest office in the city. Because, deep down, that's what politics is all about power.
If elected, I don't know what I'll do, nor do I know how I will do it, mainly because I can't predict the future. I want you, the good people of North Adams to give me the key to the city with one simple act of a write-in vote.
Why? The answer is simple: Why not? For just once, men and women are asked a great question in their lives. And let us answer that question with a write-in vote for me, Johnnie Carrier. For once, let's say to hell with it and let the inmate run the asylum.
Johnnie Carrier of North Adams is a freelance writer, and he approved this message.
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