It was Biker Week 2008 and the Karaoke Korner was rapidly becoming a bad place to be. My two Chinese companions were loudly discussing the merits of Barack Obama and I could tell that we were losing all of the good will I’d curried with the local wildlife after my rendition of the Coe classic, The Perfect Country and Western Song. Well, I thought we were anyway. I suppose slowly wrapping a chain around your knuckles while glaring could be biker code for, “Hey buddy, let me buy you a drink.”
Things were rapidly turning sour when one of my oblivious buddies decided it was a good time to ask me who I was going to vote for. Politics didn’t seem like a topic that would earn us any points so I had to think fast to salvage the situation.
“I’m not voting for either of them.”
“You’re not voting? That’s just un-American,”
“I didn’t say that. I’m voting for Ric Flair.”
I neglected to mention earlier that all I had been able to think about at that time was Wrestlemania. A palpable confusion settled over the Karaoke Korner. Pitchers that were filling began to overflow, Celebrate continued playing without any poorly sung lyrics, and most importantly a chain stopped being wrapped in midfist. It seemed that my newfound audience required an explanation and as I began to concoct one I realized that my suggestion wasn’t as crazy as I originally thought.
We’ll overlook the fact that Ric Flair is an active member of the political arena, having campaigned with several presidential candidates in the past and focus on the qualities that might actually make someone vote for him. For instance, let’s discuss Flair’s stance on foreign policy. It’s unlikely the Nature Boy would ever take America to war; instead he’d just handle matters himself. While Saddam was distracted by the U.N. Flair would have just put him in his place with a cheap shot. It’s quick, it’s effective, and it’s humiliating.
Electing Flair would end the general disinterest Americans have for their government and in the process significantly reduce the national debt. Ric’s first State of the Union Address would shatter all Pay-Per-View records. I can see it now; the lights will dim, Hail to the Chief will be replaced with Also Sprach Zarathustra, and right at its crescendo The Nature Boy would appear in a pink sequined robe and walk slowly down an aisle of screaming senators to take the podium. After the noise died down Flair will clear his throat and give a stately “WOOOO” before kicking off the evening’s festivities with Newt Gingrich and Nancy Pelosi in a first blood cage match.
Even in the face of my flawless rationale, I’m sure that detractors will arise waving a laundry list of problems Flair has that should keep him out of office. They’ll say he’s too old, he lacks experience holding a major office, and that he hasn’t been sober in the past fifteen years. My integrity as a fill-in columnist requires me to remind those people that none of those reasons have ever stopped us from electing anyone before. In the past we’ve empowered singers, action heroes, and even other professional wrestlers. The idea of Flair following in the footsteps of such great men as Ronald Reagan, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Jesse Ventura should excite the electorate because if he is able to live up to their austere examples it won’t be long before he begins starring in films of his own. I for one would pay top dollar to see The Dirtiest Player in the Game take the title roll in a Hugh Hefner biopic.
I had just consolidated these ideas and was preparing to start a political revolution at Biker Week when the karaoke announcer cut me off to call my friends up to sing their rendition of Eight Days a Week, and as they began I noticed a chain slowly start to tighten around a rather large fist.