Wednesday, May 2, 2012

I instinctively mistrust anyone who has been tagged with the puerile sobriquet of "rock star"; a paean to cool and hipness that is truly a symbol of all that is wrong in America.

I suppose there is something to be said for hipness when you're a teenager and peer pressure demands the need for such foolishness, but when your bank account is overdrawn or the IRS comes a'knockin' at your door, who do you want to handle it? Do you want a bling-bedecked hipster or do you want a nerd with a pocket protector full of pens and pencils? Or when the bogeyman sneaks up on you in the middle of the night, is it a rock star you'd want to protect you?

Since the culture-busting days of the '60s, our nation has been schizophrenic in its choice between style and substance, starting with the first paparazzi president, John F. Kennedy and his wife Jackie; the first First Lady to assume the role of stylish trendsetter. Although JFK was far more credentialed than the current cool cat in the White House, many felt that his election was the product of marketing his attractive family background and his ruddy, New England good looks.

No, some men are just not destined to be "hip" nor is this spurious attribute one that voters should seek in a man who is to lead us out of our deadly moral and economic decline. We've danced and slow-jammed around our problems enough for the last four years. It is time for a square deal for America.

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