I am not a member of the Arizona Daily Star editorial board and thus, being my own cantankerous varmint, I am endorsing Amy Klobuchar for the 2020 Democratic Party nomination to run for the president of the United States against that rattlesnake, you-know-who, the one with the forked tongue and the orange gills. At least that’s how I feel today.
I know it’s early. But I’ve learned from watching Amy K that you have to strike when the time comes, like a bobcat diving on a pack rat faster than you can say, “I taut I taw a putty tat.” When all the candidates were twiddling their thumbs on the night of Iowa Debacle, and the pundits were filling airtime with blather and bilge, Klobuchar saw an opening in the news coverage and went out to speak on live TV, delivering a killer speech. She didn’t hesitate. She was decisive when her fellow candidates fretted over what to do.
In the New Hampshire debate she was equally decisive. She made me feel confident. Maybe it’s her wide prosecutor’s smile, baring teeth that call to mind the grin of great white shark that you do not want to go up against in a courtroom, a congressional race, a debate stage or a tank at Sea World. A Constitution-clutching, law-and-order mom from the Midwest, Amy’s a perfect contrast with the con man and the whole criminal cabal of Trump town.
I know. I’ve heard it. Senator Klobuchar has been described as mean to her staff. What a stinking load of sexist crap. Listen, piggies, if Klobuchar were a man the description “she’s mean to her staff” would read “she’s a demanding and uncompromising leader.” So stuff it, snowflakes.
Amy’s policy positions are centrist, which suits me fine. Give me a Clinton, a Truman or a Kennedy over a radical McGovern, Sanders, Goldwater or a Trump any time.
Amy performed best with college-educated white women. Perfect. I obey the college-educated white woman in my home or I end up sleeping outdoors with the javelinas. And yes, that musky fragrance is not my cologne. And yes, as sure as I believe kangaroo rats are not descended from kangaroos, I believe her message of economic and social justice will resonate with brown and black Americans.
When an earnest young student asked Klobuchar at a town hall if she favored free-college-for-all I was blown all the way into Santa Cruz County by her answer. She answered, “No.”
What? A direct answer?
Then she went on to logically explain her position, which I would have listened to if I hadn’t been stunned into paralytic shock from witnessing an American politician answer a question directly. It took my wife sticking my thumb in a socket to get me out of my flabbergasted stupor after that astonishing moment in American history.
I liked her practical Midwestern answer.
Unlike the rattler, she’s fluent in English. Klobuchar delivers positive, inspiring speeches, wherein she talks about decency, policy, patriotism, team work, FDR and grace. And it’s clear she relishes stomping the rattler.
I concede it would be a jarring challenge getting used to a president who didn’t lie every time his rattle rattled.
Klobuchar’s grandpa was a miner, her father a newspaper man and her mother a teacher. She wasn’t born to a racist gazillionaire like the reptile who was hatched with a silver spoon in his fangs. Unlike the con-man-in-chief she earned her life achievements with hard work borne out of working class values.
Because Klobuchar is the proud daughter of a recovering alcoholic, she has a profound personal understanding of the multiple addictions our nation must address. Because Klobuchar is a mom she has a personal understanding of the day-care issues, the choice issues, the health-care issues and the education issues that our nation must address. Because Klobuchar is a Midwestern moderate she can appeal to middle America, to the Rust Belt, to the Sun Belt and it’s clear she can handily trounce those who fight below the belt.
While the right clings to their Tiki torches, its past time for the moderates and lefties to pass their torches to the young generation.
Some nights when my beloved has tossed me outside to sleep with the javelinas I dream. Last night I dreamt Amy picked Mayor Pete as her running mate. What a joy it was to imagine Mayor Pete debating Mike Pence over the message of the Gospels and the latest Ukraine development. When I gleefully shouted, “Landslide!” the entire herd of javelinas stampeded right over me and ran off down the street, no doubt, to register to vote in Arizona’s March 17 primary.
David Fitzsimmons: email@example.com.
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