RUN ZELL, RUN. YOUR NATION NEEDS YOU 

I wish to say a word about the current crop of people running for president of the United States. The word is “ugh!” There’s not a pony in the pile. Maybe it doesn’t matter who is president. After all, we have survived one of the most inarticulate presidents in our history, who in turn had replaced one of the most libidinous. Even Jimmy Carter occupied the office, so how hard can it be?

Still, I’d like to be able to sleep soundly at night thinking there was a dynamic, clear-eyed, don’t-tread-on-me-or-I’ll-kick-your-fanny-to-the-moon kind of leader with his or her hand on the red phone. Somebody who would tell Congress in no certain terms to quit posturing and go to work, and who would let the terrorists know in fifty words or less that they had better start rounding up the 47 virgins or whatever they believe they will find awaiting them in heaven, because if they keep running their mouths, they are going to see them sooner rather than later.

That candidate does not currently reside among the blah crowd of Republicans and Democrats now seeking the office of president. What you have are a group of politically correct talking heads who smile a lot and tell you what they think you want to hear, hoping you will be dumb enough to vote for them. There is more plastic in that bunch than in most folks’ wallets.

Well, I have the answer. I am starting a Draft Zell Miller for President campaign. Remember, you read it here first. The man is such a natural for the job, I am surprised that nobody thought of it before I did, but being smarter than the average bear is why I get the big bucks. Besides, just the mention of his name as a presidential candidate would make a couple of people I know apoplectic. That alone would be worth the effort.

Zell has all the credentials. He went to Washington as a lifelong Democrat, but voted like a Republican when he got there. To my knowledge, he is the only man who has ever given the keynote address at a Democratic national convention and at a Republican national convention. Granted, his oratory helped elect the libidinous president as well as the inarticulate one, but nobody’s perfect.

Some people will bring up his age as an issue. He is 75. By most standards  —  including mine  —  he is still a young man. Ronald Reagan was 70 when he went to Washington to clean up the mess made by President Peanut and his crowd of goobers.

Zell is a Marine. With the greatest respect to the men and women of the United States Army, Navy, Air Force and Coast Guard, the Marines are a different breed. A group of young Marines I was traveling with to Iraq were refused service at a local fast-food restaurant during a stopover in Germany because the manager said it was closing time and they were too late. One of the Marines in the politest voice possible asked the owner to please reconsider that decision. Otherwise, they would tear the place down and drag the manager’s body to some place where it would never be found. The manager wisely reconsidered. They ate, left a nice tip and quietly went back to the base. You’ve got to like the Marines.

Zell Miller would be the only candidate who wouldn’t suck up to the media bullies. He once threatened to beat up one of those smirky liberal cable guys on national television and could have done it too. Remember, he is a Marine. He could probably whip the entire staff of The New York Times. If he did, that would get him more votes from grateful Americans than all the rest of the candidates combined.

I’m probably wasting my time because Zell Miller doesn’t want the job and wouldn’t take it if you gave it to him on a silver platter. He’d rather be enjoying his family and the beautiful scenery in Young Harris. I can’t disagree with his reasoning, but just in case he needs encouragement: Run, Zell, run. Your nation needs you.

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