The man who would be . . .

. . . Prom king. And I'm not sure at this late date he's even qualified for that.

As a former proud resident of the Lone Star State, it's difficult for me to fathom Rick Perry's appeal as a candidate on The Dating Game, let alone for President of the United States of America--a less-than-perfect union he eschewed and threatened to secede from should the federal government actually do its job.

It was a bizarre moment when he uttered those hard words and any number of ones since then. Truth be told, when my and Rick's worlds more or less peacefully coexisted in the early Naughties, he seemed like kind of a cypher, sort of a lighter-than-a-feather version of George Dubya.

I'll let that sink in for a bit.

*Crickets chirping*

*For, like, hours*

And we're back.

So why the sudden change in personality, Rick? You seem more aggressive, surly, and rigid, sort of the Lone Star equivalent of Doc Jekyll and Cowboy Hyde. Are you chafing in the extreme Texas heat? Is it the male menopause? Or are you just frightened by the possibility of having to live out your dying days in dry-as-dust Paint Creek or Peahen Lick or Possum Shizzle or wherever the hell you came from?

I'm assuming its a sudden change of life. Admittedly, I haven't paid any attention to you since I left Texas in 2004.

In the early years of "the Rick," the only passionate agenda I remember Perrypuss in a fervor over was this wild-ass plan to build super-highways and super-railways all over Texas, none of which actually went into the cities but, instead, went around them. I was never sure how anyone was supposed to get from the train station to downtown or anywhere else people might actually frequent or live, given Texas's aversion to urban mass transit (the very nice DART system in Dallas excepted). But, then, a little old thing like public access never stopped anyone anywhere in the U.S. from sticking an airport out in Palooka Palisades and expecting you to float a loan to pay for parking.

So failed über-transportation systems aside, and a tendency to be quick with the lethal injection excepted, apparently now God wants Rick Perry to run for national office, Prom King of these here U.S. of A. Divine intervention and inspiration! I'll be sure to try that reasoning for all future, questionably-reached decisions. When I call in sick for work at a future date. "God wants me to stay home until Mad Men returns to TV in January." May I get scads of unchecked funding from the Koch Brothers and endless hours of media coverage from Fox & Friends for my pronouncement.

Of course, he's Governor Goodhair, 1980s edition, with that Marlboro Man squint and firm, square jaw. But, honestly, brown hair, brown eyes, brown tie, brown suit? In this photo, he looks like he's been styled by exceptionally hapless children from the Texas School for the Chromatically Impaired. What, was an all-beige ensemble unavailable that day?


Nonetheless, let it never be said that, as an equal-opportunity nation, we Americans discriminate against The Handsome Community, no matter how questionably apparelled. Never! In our fair-to-middlin' nation, even poorly attired but well-funded, narrow-minded, former male cheerleaders who at midlife turn to God and politics can succeed! Twice over!

Praise!