Why I won’t run for office

Recently I was asked if I had ever thought of running for political office. My reply was simple: Although it is the best option available at present, I am not all that fond of democracy. So, no I haven’t considered throwing my hat into the ring, so to speak. I actually much prefer an enlightened monarchy, mind you only if I am the enlightened monarch in question.

There is another reason for my reluctance to seek office that has been highlighted in the press recently because of the several indiscretions that have come to light in our prime minister past. In today’s political world I am sure I couldn’t pass the social media “smell test.” You see, I too have an array of hidden errors, mistakes and misjudgments.

Like the prime minister, I too was part of a “black-face” incident. Some 48 years ago, while a student, I took part in a comedy sketch that was designed to poke fun at athletic stereotypes. They were all there: the dumb jock, the coach who could only speak in sound bites, the fitness nut and the trash-talking black basketball player. Unfortunately we didn’t have a black actor so, you guessed it, I stepped in. Like Gene Wilder in Silver Streak, where Richard Pryor convinces him to pose as a black man, it was not meant as an insult to any person of colour but a send-up of professional athletes in general. Do I regret it? Only if I hurt someone in the audience. Would I do it again? Not a chance.

I also have to confess that 65 years ago I committed an inappropriate act of a sexual nature. A group of the bolder boys in my grade two class decided it would be a good idea if we each kissed one of the girls. The ambush was set up and as they came out of the girls exit (remember the days when boys and girls had separate doors?) we each grabbed a partner, kissed them and ran. If that came out today my political career would end before it started buried under a flurry of tweets. Mind you, Donna Cole still remembers that first kiss.

Then there’s cheating. I have to confess that 60 years ago I used to cheat when playing monopoly with my younger brother. I’ve never told him but his counting skills at age seven weren’t all that good so it was relatively easy to under pay if I landed on one of his hotels, motels or an undeveloped property. It was just as easy to increase his payments when he landed on mine. Any politician who admitted to this sort of chicanery today would be hounded out of office or put in charge of the Finance Department.

Like most young men I was guilty of things I wouldn’t want my mom to know. This included a night 48 years ago when I managed to fall off the front balcony of the Sherbrooke Court House, now the City Hall. After a night of merriment I decided that the Quebec flag floating in the breeze from the porch would be a lovely souvenir. Climbing up the drain pipe was easy but the descent, after the drain pipe broke away, was considerably quicker and the sudden stop painful.

I ended up spending three days in the university infirmary and two months walking on my toes. It was St. Patrick’s Day and yes alcohol was involved.

The point here is simple. We all do a lot of stupid things in the course of our life and although we may regret them if we don’t learn from them it was all in vain. Take it from me. I hardly ever cheat at Yahtzee, I don’t wait outside schools to kiss girls, and I never, ever, climb on St. Patrick’s Day but I still won’t run for office.