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How to Become President: Chapter 12

May 1, 2010

TO THE VICTOR BELONGS THE SPOILED

(HINTS ON REMODELING THE WHITE HOUSE)

HERE I am at last.

The first Lady President!

Imagine George Burns saying that if I loved my country I would demand a recount!

To my friends who kept up my spirits throughout the good fight, and to my supporters who did the same thing for my stockings. I thank you. And I say further that my election goes to show that the United States is still the land of importunity, where the humble have the same chance as those of lowly origin.

I’ll never forget the little sentiment that a man who said his name was “Admirer of Dewey” wrote on the bottom of his ballot:

Voters see red, when voters get blue.

If the country goes crazy, it may go for you.

Wasn’t that sweet? Of course, I know he probably says that to all the candidates, but I sent him my kangaroo, Laura, as a little remembrance, so every time he looks at Laura he will think of me.

But there I go, being irreverent, instead of telling you what you should do when you become the first Lady President.

The first thing is about jobs, and you have to see about them right away because a thing like the Spoils System can’t be left out in the air too long. So I’m going to make Truman Bradley my Secretary of State, on account of he’s a sports fan and will appreciate getting good seats at the Conference games. Frank Parker will be my Secretary of the Interior, because he has so much inside dope. And I’ll have to find something for Ray Noble, too, because in spite of all they say about the embargoes, I still think Ray has the sweetest band on the air.

But no job for George. I don’t think it’s dignified for the President’s husband to work. People would begin whispering that I couldn’t support him, and anyway, now that I’m making good money it’s high time he took things a little easier. I’ll even send out our dirty linen.

Well, that’s done.

Now for something spectacular, so the people will realize they have an acting President. I’m not going to sit back and rest my reputation on my laurels, just because I’m in here on a four-year contract without options. No, sir. There’ll be some changes made.

First, I am going to change Washington, D. C., to A. C., so my clock will work.

Then I’ll get at the White House. I’ve thought it all over, and here is what I am going to do: I will change the East Room into the West Room and the rest room into the yeast room, so that when the people want to rise they’ll have a nice place for it.

And when I hold my State Dinners, I’m not going to invite anybody. Because if you invite people like ambassadors and leave out somebody like a plenipotentiary, he would feel hurt and wire to his boss: “What is this? I go out and rent a dress suit and wind up in the Automat. Let’s break our relations before they break us.” Little things like that are what caused our little brown brothers to begin criticizing us, and now it’s grown into the pan American policy.

And while you may think it’s just a little thing, I’m going to elminate the Marine Band. What we need in these times is a belly band, on account of an army marches on its stomach. But I’ll let the Generals alone, because without them, who would give the cavalry troupes their cues?

And furthermore, I don’t agree with people who want to enlarge the fleet. I don’t see how the fleet gets into those pants the way it is now. But I will do something about those hammocks. It’s bad enough sleeping in the little hammocks in Pullman cars, and they’re tacked to the wall so they don’t sway so much. My brother spent three years in the Navy and the first month he was out we had to rock him to sleep in a shopping bag.

Prosperity must be brought back. Prosperity, as few people realize, is when business is good enough so you can buy things on credit you can’t afford to so you can save enough money to pay cash for new things after they’ve taken back the things you got on credit.

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And I know how to bring it back, and that is why I won the election with my slogan, “A Government Job for Everybody.” This is not criticism of the past administration, because after all I would be the first to admit that they made great strides. But I have felt the pulse of the country, and I have seen with my own eyes a third of the nation working for themselves completely without help from Washington. That is dissemination, and it must stop.

But I will not write a book, even though I could think of such titles as “Should Presidents Marry?” and “How to Have a Baby on $75,000 a Year.”

A publisher asked me to let him make a book out of my letters, but I refused because a thing like that would be dissoluting a valuable some day they will keep you.

No, I will never write a book.

Because I don’t want people going around calling me a highbrow.

I want them to think of me as just an ordinary person like themselves.

Not an intellectual slob.

THE END

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