“I’m going to run,” announced Old Sievert as he joined the other 12 town electors in the community hall for the spring planning conference of the Homeland Security Committee.

“That may be kind of risky, you using a cane and all,” noted Josh Dvorchik. “I haven’t seen you run in weeks.”

“Well, this is It,” Old Sievert continued. “I’m running for president. All the eligible and their dogs are out there. Why not me?”

“First, you need a campaign manager and presidential exploratory committee to gets thing moving,” suggested Little Jimmy.

“I got me Berk Downside who managed Osco Clemming’s big win in that tough supervisor’s race over in Buckstead Township,” the aspiring candidate pointed out. “He’s got the experience I need.”

“It was a sweep I heard,” Holger Danske observed. “Nine to 12.”

“Well, I don’t need no exploratory committee because I’m going to run no matter what they discover,” Old Sievert added firmly, banging his cane on the dance hall floor to demonstrate his commitment.

“They’ve got too many candidates already – Trump in one party and 20 in the other so that’s about even,” Einar Torvald adjudged. None of the electors knew how to process that so they left it for Dawg.

“Let’s be realistic, Sievert,” offered Madeleine Morgan, reputed to have come from Billings for her Dad’s funeral and never went back. “Your age is going to be a distraction.”

“What’s age got to do with it? Trump raised the bar at 70. I’ll raise it another 20 so people will see that the real elderly are not being represented and it seems with people living so long deserve to have our feet under the table.”

“Wow!” exclaimed Little Jimmy, “you’ve got your speech ready to go but it’s going to be hard to run with your feet under the table.” Everybody snickered.

“And since you are the only person in town with a computer, I want you for my publicity person, Jimmy Boy.”

Little Jimmy just beamed. He was enrolled online in mass communications after changing his major for the eight time with Del Rio University. They finally gave him a frequency discount.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Orville Jordan, the retired Soo Line depot, cautioned. “Have you made any women uncomfortable in the past fifty years or so? They can kill you on that one.”

“Not that I can remember” the prospective candidate replied.

“For sure! For sure!” chuckled Holger. “Good defense. Trump can’t remember anything and he’s 20 years young than you.”

“Well, I got to confess. I did some patting in 1931 when I managed the Midtown girls’ basketball team,” Sievert confessed with a wry smile.

“In those days, when you sent a player to the floor, you gave ’em a little pat to boost morale,” he explained. “It was official policy.”

“What will be your main issues?” asked Madeleine.

“No issues,” he promised.

“No issues?” she probed.

“Issues only get you in trouble – some want this and some want that and both sides usually want it bad enough to hate you when it’s over. Nope. No issues. I’m going to use the old McKinley strategy – just sit on the porch with Dawg and smile.”

“Mr. Sievert, I don’t know if we can get much news coverage if you don’t do anything,” Little Jimmy protested.

“We’re going to run an electronic campaign,” Sievert explained. “Every day, we’ll send a hundred e-mails to somebody in the phone books.”

“Who else is running?” shouted Dorsey Grunk from over in the corner by the window.

Silence shattered the gala event.

“Planning meeting is adjourned,” Chair Ork announced, banging his old Coke bottle on the makeover hollow core door.