A Winning One-Word Presidential Campaign Speech.

I was in sixth grade history class and our teacher Ms. Myers (a dinosaur of a woman who always wore these big, flowery sundresses) was discussing the various American wars of the world.

As I scanned the room, you could just tell that no one was paying any attention to her.

Some were doodling. Some were drooling. Others were picking their nose. Some were even flicking their nose. I, however, was scrawling EIMER FOR PRESIDENT on my brown paper grocery bag history book cover.

No, no one was paying attention to her stupid presentation. Because all thoughts (at least my own) were firmly focused on the upcoming class presidential elections scheduled to occur right after history class.

The three candidates (myself included) were going to read campaign speeches in front of the class in hopes of persuading potential suckers to vote for us.

I practiced my speech all night and couldn't wait to take the stage. It was funny, yet sublime. Poignant, yet loosey-goosey. It was perfect.

Without being too cocky, I knew that after my speech was over, I was destined to be President of Steeple Valley.

My thoughts of conquering the world were rudely interrupted by Ms. Myers' scraggily voice.

"My oh my," she said in a high octave that woke up the class. "I've been through a lot of wars."

Then she looked up in the air, deep in thought, and started counting the various wars on her fingers.

"Vietnam...World War 1...World War 2....Korean," she put a finger to her mouth and started tapping her lip. "Mmmmm?"

Suddenly this kid Jason (who was also running for class president) yelled from the back row.

"Civil."

The class started to laugh.

Ms. Myers, however, got pissed.

She gave Jason one of those Marty Feldman, angry teacher glares. Then, without saying a word, held out her skeleton-like finger and pointed towards the door.

With a big shit-eating grin on his face, Jason shuffled off to the principal's office; an inevitable detention was in his foreseeable future.

More importantly, he wouldn't be able to deliver his campaign speech to the masses.

Oh yeah!

But, it really didn't matter.

Much to Ms. Myers chagrin (and my own), his one-word pre-election campaign speech cemented his legacy as our Sixth-Grade Class President.

It was a landslide victory.

Kudos to you Jason. Kudos to you.

As they say in the news; there's no such thing as bad publicity. Especially if it's funny.

________

Click here for another childhood story involving Jason.