By Brendan Kinney

I bet that you, like myself sat down for one evening of prime time television, and found yourself confronted with a strange change in programming: a presidential debate. So you thought, what the heck, I’ll listen to what these guys want to do for me and my country. But about halfway through the “show,” you sat there wondering what these two guys wanted to do besides “be the President of the United States of America” (with an air of drama). You sat there saying, “Is this a debate, or a name-calling match?” So, disgusted, you turned off the T.V. and stumbled off to bed, confused and worried for America.

And as you tossed and turned in a cold sweat, dreams of America’s tomorrow and two guys standing behind podiums your head…

They stood behind their respective podiums, and the debate began. The panel of beautifully racially integrated reporters tossed out important and necessary questions. The two minutes started, and the Tall Guy went on about what the Short Guy wasn’t doing about the problem in Massachusetts, and after all, he is the governor and card carrying member of the A.C.L.U. The crowd went wild with applause and yells. You were on your feet, waving your red, white, and blue campaign poster.

The Tall Guy pointed a narrow finger and whined, “Liberal, liberal, liberal,” while you secretly hoped that the Short Guy would blurt out “You’re just a goddamn conservative!”

The one-minute rebuttal time for the Short Guy came up, and the Short Guy, full of gestures and hand-wringing, whined something about which of the Tall Guy’s personas he talking to, but you didn’t really care because they both looked great in their three-piece suits, although the Tall Guy’s tie didn’t go real well with his shirt.

The Short Guy then accused the Tall Guy of voting against something-or-other, and the Tall Guy kindly corrected him by saying he did vote for something-or-other, and that the Short Guy should get his facts straight. The cheer went up again, and although no one really knew who in fact was telling the truth, it didn’t matter, because the Tall Guy took a stand and the Short Guy didn’t give up.

Everyone was cheering. Everyone was happy. Everyone was Clapping, and cheering, and clapping, and cheering…

…and you woke up, with your sheet wrapped around your neck, and you sat up rubbing your temples, trying to get all the cheering out of your head.

It’s off to the voting booth you go, and you pull the lever, while the image of two bratty, whining boys screaming at each other fills your head:

“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”

We all walk out of the booths with our heads hung low, dreading the next four years that are waiting for us back on our Japanese-made television sets on “This Week With David Brinkley.”