reinforcement of the business of politics to keep your sorry ass in tow.”
Max was startled at the familiar voice coming from behind him, out of his line of sight. There was no mistaking the booming baritone of Uncle Luke. Postlewaite had been his second mentor since infancy, and his visits with Max were always full of “life lessons” as he called them.
“I figured that it would take something like a broken bone to slow you down long enough for me to talk some sense to you, and now you’re mine.” The two elders chuckled in unison, a sinister conspiratorial laugh.
Postlewaite continued. “In the world of politics, there are two types of elected officials. There are those with ideas, and they are rare. They have goals and foresight and think for themselves. Then there are those who never had an original thought and only look out for themselves. The difference, I think, puts too many of the non-thinkers in position to lead the people that put them there. Then, when they get voted in, instead of leading, they get busy planning for reelection. Dammit! That’s not how it should be! They get their egos out and begin to think that they are experts on everything. Then, when they stand in front of the voters and make speeches, they are careful to only tiptoe around and avoid saying anything controversial.”
Max listened intently, careful not to comment until Postlewaite and the senator were certain they had made a point. When the pause became an ending, he responded.
“But I’m not a politician.”
“I don’t want you to be a politician,” commented the senator. “I do want you to run when the time is right, but I don’t want you to run as a politician.”
The last words were confusing, even to Max, who had been indoctrinated in the fine art of politics since infancy. “I don’t see the difference.”
“I want you to say what you mean and never fear the consequences of holding tight to your ideals. You should never be afraid to clearly state your position on the issues you feel strongly about or to ask questions. You should never avoid discussion with those who don’t hold your views. Nobody ever resolved a conflict by refusing to talk about it. I’m going to go into more depth, and while we have you hostage, Luke and I are going to begin your journey into becoming a person of value.”
When Max didn’t respond, Postlewaite took up the silence.
“What we are trying to tell you is that you don’t need to act like a politician to get elected. You need to develop a clear vision of what you intend to accomplish once you get into office, and you must be able to clearly state your position in a way that will convince people that your way is the right way,” he expounded.
“OK, but can we do this after breakfast?”
u ChAPTER TWENTY
how do people, most of them from humble beginnings, become president? Think about it. Most of them didn’t have the pedigree.” Luke Postlewaite began each of his lessons with a question that his students all wondered about, but the answer to that question would never be found in a textbook or a Google search. These were questions designed to get them to think outside the box and ponder the metaphysical. “You could make a better argument for left-handedness being a prerequisite for being president than any of the other qualifications that those elected to higher office possess, with the possible exception of being born a male,” Postlewaite continued. Max laughed without knowing why.
“Lincoln crawled literally out of the wilderness. Clinton grew up in Arkansas, but ended up at Yale, and later, to Cambridge, a Rhodes s cholar.”
“Obama. A child of a marriage between a Nigerian scholar and a hippie girl, who grew up in Indonesia, hawaii, and Kansas. They were all portrayed as outsiders, trying to break into politics, but were they? Outsiders?”
Postlewaite paced while Max listened. If there had been a carpet beneath his feet, it would have been threadbare by now. When Luke
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