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| If you are really rich and don't care who knows it, raise your hand! |
I suspect that even the harshest critic of presumptive Republican
presidential nominee Mitt Romney has got to be feeling sorry for him. He’s just not having fun with this “Campaigning
for President of the United States” gig.
It has become almost painful to watch him. His movements are like those of an awkward
white fellow at a 70’s Soul & Funk Party pushed onto a platform to show-off
his version of the robot dance. You can
picture his advisors behind the scenes unscrewing the cap that is Mr. Romney’s
right ear, shoving in the funnel, and pouring in a dozen or so of other
people’s wants and desires—from Adelson’s Middle East policy to the Tea Party’s
elimination of government ideology. And
the coup de grace: Paul Ryan, lauded as a real live human being,
is now his running mate. Immediately the
young Conservative whipper-snapper was upstaging him so that he had to remind
the “60 Minutes” viewers that he was
the real Presidential nominee. “I have my budget plan. And that’s the budget plan we’re running
one.” Of course it is, Mr. Romney. You are the nominee, Mr. Romney. Why would anyone think otherwise, Mr. Romney? It is becoming quite clear that Mr. Romney is
not only uncomfortable, but that he is one stump speech away from ceasing to be
at all. I think I know why, and I think
I can help.
Mitt Romney is simply embarrassed to be rich—a recent condition, going
back only as far as the first demand to see more of his tax returns. Up to this point, Mr. Romney was proud of his
millions-- when he was buying and selling properties, when he was using his
inherited wealth to start his own business, when he was outsourcing, when he was
driving into bankruptcy businesses that were then forced to lay off hundreds of
workers. During these happy days, he had
only two concerns: increasing his individual
capital and making money for his stockholders.
Why not? Making money was a
reward for being a moral man of faith.
He had put his time in: at home,
as an elder in that hermetically sealed temple and abroad, peddling his faith
in France. Now it was Mitt’s turn to have
his own visions, to write his own Bildungsroman, to take the money given him
and to make more of it. During these
years, he filled out many income tax returns, creating loopholes to pay less so
that he could keep more. This was not devious;
it was his sacred obligation; the ideology of Mitt’s America. And things were going swimmingly. People approved. He was elected governor of Massachusetts; he
single-handedly organized and ran the Utah Olympic games (and much better than
the Brits could do, if he did say so himself).
Then came the decision to run for President. Then came his primary victory. Suddenly he was one election away from becoming
the leader of a nation whose middle class has seen its wages and buying power
deteriorate over the thirty plus years since the introduction of trickle-down
economics and whose poor have increased to the point that there is a greater percentage
of sick and hungry children in this nation than in any of the developed
economies of Europe. Suddenly, for the
very first time, straight up, undiluted capitalism was not something for him to
be proud of. Worse. It was a good thing for all his multimillion
dollar friends but not for him. And to
add insult to injury: he still found
himself forced to concoct and present ways to insure that their wealth
increased, while for him money was something to be ashamed of, something to
blush at whenever anyone shouted, “Hey Mitt your wealth is showing!”
Try to empathize. Imagine what it
must have felt like to have your whole way of life now made into something
terribly wrong, even immoral, but only for you, not for anyone else. It was a near epistemological nightmare: “Why is America still America for everyone
else but me?”
I think I can help you, Mr. Romney.
The prognosis is good; the disease has not metastasized. The road to recovery, the way not to be
embarrassed is simple: Do Not Be Embarrassed! First, profess what you believe. Tell yourself: “I am rich.
And to be rich is to be successful.
To be successful is a good thing.
It takes money to be rich. And I
love money—inherited money, capital gains money, tax loophole money. All this money has allowed me to raise so
much more money from rich people who love me unconditionally for my money. And all this money has allowed me to do what
only a select few in America can do: finance
a campaign for the Presidency of the United States of America.”
Now that you are beginning to feel better, more like your old self: Release those tax returns! And not just a few. Say to yourself, “If they want tax returns,
I’ll give them tax returns!’ Show them
the money! And don’t do it grudgingly. Make it festive. A real event.
As you release these returns like balloons into the bright blue
cloudless American sky laud the life of easy money; hail America as a country
that believes in, protects, and nurtures a multimillionaire elite, and trusts
it to run its economy through virtually unrestricted, straight up, no holds barred
capitalism.
I know we would see a much more relaxed and comfortable candidate. I even suspect that once Mr. Romney is able
to breathe more freely, we would all see that connection with voters that has
been lacking. He may then be caught
feeling the pain of the millionaire who lost thousands in a risky investment; of
a disgruntled country clubber whose tee-off reservation a staff member forgot
to book; of the bread-winning husband forced to feign interest in that
equestrian thing his wife goes on and on about; of the Gentile who even wonders
if it isn’t a bit goyish to be handed
a red white and blue yarmulke and whisked off to a holy wall by a tsvuak; or of the private multimillionaire who has
offered his talents for the public good, only to find himself being forced to
feel badly at being a private multimillionaire.
Move over “Joe the Plumber,” say hello to “Preston the Really Rich White
Guy.”
For thousands of his supporters, I suspect that Mr. Romney’s campaign
would be immediately energized. For his
own psychological well-being, I suspect that Mitt Romney would feel whole
again. And for all of us who want better
TV viewing during the next two months, I suspect that we all would discover
that Mitt Romney, recent events notwithstanding, is rather human after all.
P.S.
Suggestion: Adopt “Only Human” by
the 80’s pop band Human League as the
Romney campaign theme song.
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