Free Lady Justice and the Candidate by Robert Thornhill

would ever return.
     

     
        I had expected to be whisked aboard a private jet, but when the limo pulled up at the curb of the KCI airport, I noticed that we were at the Southwest Airlines gate.
        “What, no private jet?”
        Paul Ford smiled, “Sorry, Marvin. Since Ben won’t accept any money from the big corporations or Super PACs, we operate on a tight budget. I’m afraid it’s commercial --- coach!”
        Swell , I thought. With my luck, I’ll be seated by a lady with a screaming kid.
        After checking in, we made our way to the boarding gate and the line stretched out for a hundred feet.
        While we stood there waiting to be frisked and x-rayed by the TSA, a guy came up to me and sang quietly in my ear, “ You babe. I’ve got you babe, ” and wandered away grinning.
        Mark saw the exchange, “What was that all about?”
        “Nothing that involves national security, I assure you. That fellow and I just shared a sixties moment.”
        He shook his head and walked away.
     

     
        I had only been to New York once and it was many years ago.
        As we drove the streets of Manhattan, if Marvin Fitzwater was supposed to be a country bumpkin, awestruck by the magnitude of this bustling city, then I was perfect for the part.
        We parked in front of the studio and were ushered into the sound stage. The program was already underway and we had barely made it in time for Ben’s interview.
        We were all seated in a room just off of the set where we could watch the program as it was being broadcast.
        Make-up people had a go at Ben and he was whisked off to the set where Ann Murray, one of the co-hosts, greeted him.
        “Good morning, Mr. Foster,” she said, extending her hand. “I hope you had a pleasant flight from Kansas City.”
        “Please,” he said, “call me Ben. We’re going to be here for awhile and Mr. Foster is just too formal, and may I call you Ann?”
        Ann was somewhat surprised. She was obviously not used to the guests taking control of the interview.
        “Certainly, Ben. I had the opportunity to watch the video of your presentation last evening and you raised some interesting points.”
        She glanced at her notes, “You said, and I quote, ‘The government has no business in the bedrooms of its citizens . ' The Republican and Democratic candidates have been at odds over the issue of contraception. What is your position on this topic?”
        Ben didn’t hesitate, “Ann, I don’t believe that whether or not I wear a condom or what position I use or whether I wear briefs or boxers has any bearing on the upcoming election.”
        Thanks to the miracle of modern color television, it was impossible to miss the fact that Ann’s face turned a bright crimson.
        I knew for a fact that Ben was a boxer man, and since I had to mimic his wardrobe, I had to be one too. I had always worn briefs, so Mr. Winkie and the boys were struggling to get used to the extra room. I had always fancied myself as more of a ‘tucked-away’ guy than a 'free-swinger.'
        Ben forged ahead, “Sorry if I embarrassed you, Ann. My position on contraceptives is a personal, moral choice. If you read further in my notes, you will see that I also said that it is not the government’s job to legislate morality and I also stated very clearly that my candidacy is about freedom and choices, and that with this freedom to choose comes responsibility.”
        Ann had regained her composure, “Can you give us an example?”
        “Certainly,” he replied, “our country was based on two very important principles, freedom from the tyranny of oppressive governments and the separation of church and state. I’m afraid that the two political parties have abandoned both of those concepts.
        “Let’s examine just one issue that touches on both of these points, the right-to-die-with-dignity.
        “Do you