Louella Puts Her Hat in the Ring

Louella watched the Republican convention in fascinated horror. Wow, I thought I was conservative once, she thought, but never like this. These people are hard-core Stepford Wives types. She glanced at her 75-year-old father snoozing in his recliner, checking to see if he was paying attention. He'd dozed off. 

Louella remembered how, nearly 25 years ago, she had come home from her P.R. job in New York just to vote in the national election, intending to cancel out her father's vote for Reagan. This year I'll be cancelling his vote again, she realized with a start. You'd think he'd have figured out what side he ought to be on, but he thinks it's smart or classy or something to stick with the same brand. As if Republicans are the same brand now as they were back in 1984! Geez, I never thought I'd miss Reagan! 

The TV screen flickered. And there she was: Sarah Palin, John McCain's running mate. Not bad looking, Louella grudgingly admitted. Bet she's taller than McCain, too, but they won't show that. She turned up the volume and watched the pretty mouth of the candidate spew the usual platitudes. Oh great! she thought. People will just look at her and see her read her lines well and not even think about what she's saying. Then she had a thought: I'm better educated than she is—I have an M.B.A for crying out loud! And I have much more experience. I've kept my figure and my plastic surgery's still good—I could do this too!

Louella considered whether her East Baltimore roots would be a plus or minus. Her straw-blonde sister Candy, now a bartender in Fell's Point, was sort of respectable now, and her prostitution misdemeanors were in Pennsylvania, under her fake name, so nobody's going to be the wiser. Mason, Candy's high school dropout son, worked as a drywall finisher, and his drug offenses when a juvenile weren't going to be found. Mason and his girlfriend had a daughter, but thanks to Palin that was no barrier either. I'm Catholic, thought Louella, and that used to be dicey, but now that Bush and Cheney gave such a big welcome to the Pope when he was here, that's got to be behind us. Her parents' neighbors were black, another plus.

What would get me noticed? Louella wondered. I'm sort of a celebrity, she realized. I was the star of a newspaper satire for 20 years. That should count for something. Should I go by my real name or by Eleanor Preston? Pryzbylewski has a nice ethnic ring, but who can spell it?

 

She scribbled lists of questions and pros and cons. I'm going to have to get a political consultant, she realized. I've got to get positioned and get some press, and find out what players might want me. She noticed her hand was trembling. This is so exciting! she thought. I think, after all this time, I'm finally going to be somebody important! And just in time, too, because my Lottery income's going to be running out in a few years.

 

Louella's father stirred and opened his eyes. He focused them on Sarah Palin. "Would you look at that set of gams!" he marveled. "She'd sure be easy to look at for the next four years."

"Dad, she's a total lightweight as far as experience is concerned. Why would you want somebody like her just a heartbeat from the presidency?"

"Ahh, come on, Lou! Everybody knows the president doesn't run this country. Special interests run it. It's all just for show, like in England. So why shouldn't we have a good-looking woman on the job? She sure beats looking at McCain!"

 

Louella knew it was usual to argue about politics with her father. She went back to her lists. Maybe I should publish a book of all the columns that featured my life, she mused. I could give it away when I make public appearances. People always remember somebody who gave them something for nothing. Over 20 years of Louella's exploits had been published in the Baltimore Chronicle (still published, but online only now). She'd saved them all. They prove I really did stuff, she thought. And I can cut the ones that make me look bad.

 

"Dad, haven't you seen enough of this? It's way past your bedtime."

 

"This is history, Hon."

 

You think this is history? Louella grumped to herself. Wait until you see you own little girl on that stage! She made a note: "Run for City Council." That should be easy enough, she thought. Who wants to do that? It would be like wanting to be mayor of some podunk little town in Alaska. Can't be all that much competition. You have to be kinda nuts to do this. She smiled at her reflection in the TV screen and wagged her foot.

TO BE CONTINUED.