A Hard Season

by Brendan Smith
Weirs Times Editor

Now that the primaries are over and I know who my opponents are, I can finally get down to some real work on my campaign.
But it won’t be easy.
As I mentioned a few weeks back, this is my twelfth and possibly last (probably not) gubernatorial election (which means I’m running for governor, not guber) as the candidate for the Flatlander Party.
This is one of the most unique election seasons in our history with the Coronavirus and all. No longer can candidates campaign in the traditional New Hampshire ways like bothering people when they are trying to eat a hot breakfast at the local diner or marching in a town’s Independence Day parade right behind the local high school band who have been practicing “America The Beautiful” for months just for this very moment and are now confused to as whether or not the booing is for them.
Now, more than in past elections, candidates have to use TV and radio ads as well as those giant postcard mailers that crowd mailboxes and end up straight in the kitchen trash bin.
Of course, with my limited budget ($75.86 at last count) I cannot afford any of these non-personal ways of campaigning.
So, this could prove to be my hardest campaign yet. I never really had the resources to run one properly before and now, with the personal interaction part being eliminated, it will be next to impossible.
No longer can I use my campaigning skills in attending Chamber of Commerce breakfasts and Rotary Club dinners (uninvited) talking to people and pretending I am interested in what they are saying and, of course, on the spot flip-flopping so I am saying exactly what each person wants to hear.
My campaign manager has suggested that I need to a different route this time.
“I think it would be a good idea to let voters know that if you are elected, once you get in office, you will be having some kind of mandate,” he said.
“I do prefer women,” I told him. “Also, I am married, but if that is what it takes, I’ll do what I have to. I’m sure she’ll understand. Will we have to wear masks?”
When he explained that a mandate was actually an executive order of some kind I nodded as if I already knew, while in my head I was thinking how I would explain to my wife the strange voice mail I just left her.
He also suggested that he would work hard and tirelessly in trying to find every piece of dirt he could on my opponents. Of course, he said, there will be retribution from their campaigns and I need to think hard if there might be something I did in college forty-five years ago that might come back to haunt me.
After about five seconds of thought which produced a few dozen immediate memories, I suggested we scrap that idea.
He also said he would try hard to get me a spot in the virtual gubernatorial debates, though it would be a long shot. I could have a chance on influencing some voters if I could participate. I am very good at making things up if I don’t know the answer and really good at talking about something completely unrelated to the question if it makes me uncomfortable.
But the odds are slim I’ll be able to take part.
A lot of my friends ask me why I would want to continue in what will most likely be a losing effort before it even begins due to COVID-19 campaigning restrictions.
I explain that this has always been a dream of mine and I was raised never to give up on following my dreams (except that strange one with the talking cow and Clint Eastwood, that was really bizzare).
Also, there are some really cool things a governor gets to do that I’d like to try.
For instance.
You can have the state police drive you wherever you want to go. They’ll even let you play with the siren. (Jeanne Shaheen told me this.)
You get to have your picture taken with people who have accomplished great things and have the attention diverted to you even though you barely passed freshman math in high school.
You can watch as the New Hampshire House and Senate struggle for weeks to figure out an important bill to pass and then you can veto it in two seconds…just for the fun of it.
Sometimes you get to go to Washington D.C. with all the other governors in the country where you sit around and talk about governor things. (I’ll bet not all of them know about the siren thing.)
Maybe the coolest thing is that you earn $100,000 a year and it is almost impossible to be fired for two years no matter how lousy a job you are doing.
So, there are reasons to still try hard this year.
I’ll give this at least one more shot.