Jeff Siegel at the Advocate has nominated me for mayor, and, after long consideration and discussion with my family, I have accepted. I shall run, unlike our current mayor. If elected, I shall serve. If offered a salary, I shall accept.
I have decided to keep my platform simple. My slogan will be, "Just Fix My Damn Street, Will You?"
In this case, the term, "my street" is not generic or anything. I don't mean they should fix everybody's streets. I want them to fix my damn street.
I want to see if maybe that's how you can get your damn street fixed around here -- by getting elected mayor. Because nothing else works.
It's always something with City Hall. "Oh, no, Mr. Schutze, we'd like to fix your street, but we've decided to build a conventioneer hotel with the money, instead."
My first day in office, I'm going to call the city manager and say, "Hi, this is the mayor. Fix my damn street."
You say that my platform is selfish. I say nay. I do this for thou.
Years ago, a lady who was a prisoner in a federal penitentiary for women told me a pitiful story about a civics class for inmates. The rule was that the inmates could not be admitted into the civics class until they lined up properly first in the courtyard.
But they never lined up properly in the courtyard, because they were always pulling one another's hair and calling each other bitches. So they never got into the civics class. The lady telling me the story said, "Why do they have a civics class? Why don't they have a lining up class?"
She said if most of the inmates ever once learned how to stand in line, they'd be three-quarters of the way toward rehabilitation.
So that's how I feel about City Hall. If I could force them to just fix my own damned street, just once, they'd be three-quarters of the way toward becoming useful, as opposed to what they are now, which I am beginning to think is crazy.
It could happen for me. Look at Laura Miller. She was a columnist for the Observer. She got elected mayor. And now she's way younger than me and good-looking.
