One of these days, I’m going to up and run for mayor.

It’s not that I have an interest in helping to run the city, mind you. I don’t like making decisions very much and I have trouble sitting through meetings that last longer than three minutes — which is how long all meetings should last, no matter how complex the matters at hand.

I just think it would be cool to ride around the city and on every corner, see a sign with my name on it. Plus a catch slogan that sounds meaningful but which, when you give it a few seconds of thought, doesn’t mean squat.

“LAFLAMME FOR MAYOR: IT’S ABOUT TIME.”

Or possibly, “LAFLAMME FOR MAYOR: SOMETHING DIFFERENT FOR A CHANGE.”

Neither of these is exactly right, but that’s because I wasn’t hammered when I wrote them (as far as you know). The best campaign slogans tend to sound like they were written by people who were working on their ninth pitcher of Dos Equis of the night and possibly experimenting with pharmaceuticals while watching “Benny Hill.”

“LAFLAMME FOR MAYOR: THE SOUND OF ONE HAND CLAPPING.”

See? Now we’re cooking and all I had to do to get there was chug a five-hour energy drink while listening to Pink Floyd.

I’m not saying that politicians are disingenuous. It’s just that it must be really hard to design a campaign slogan meant for a sign that isn’t 9 feet long.

Plus, they’re disingenuous.

And while it would be a terrific thrill to see my own ambiguous taglines littering every city block in Lewiston, that couldn’t possibly compare to the fun of generating ambiguous pronouncements in response to annoying press questions.

ANNOYING PRESS: “Mr. LaPhlegm, in view of your plan to build 12 extra bridges and a tunnel beneath the Androscoggin River to reduce traffic between Lewiston and Auburn, how do you intend to keep taxes down?”

ME: “That’s a great question, annoying press person. I think it’s tremendously important that as a community, we keep moving forward. And it’s darn hard to move forward with traffic backed up on the Longley Bridge as it is at all hours of the day. So as long as we continue to have shared goals and a spirit of cooperation, we will keep moving forward. There’s no I in team, you know. There is one A and one E but there is no I. There are no Qs, either — that would just be weird. And with that kind of innovation, we can and will make Lewiston great again.”

There’s a long pause here for applause and such. Seriously, get a sandwich because it could go on for an hour.

There is also the matter of wardrobe. No doubt my personal wardrobe is due for a complete overhaul. A run for political office would provide the perfect excuse for an extreme makeover like the kind they provided on that television show. I forget what it’s called.

And we’re not talking about just some new duds, here, we’re talking about an entirely new look. A fresh look. Something new for a change (see? That slogan is working already!) While all the other candidates are moping around in their fancy Men’s Warehouse suits, maybe I’ll go out and about with jeans and high-top sneakers. Or bell-bottom corduroy pants and a mesh T-shirt. Or one of those frilly shirts like pirates wear. Or possibly a pantsuit.

The trick is to be different from the rest, because Lord knows we could use a little different. (Possible campaign slogan? Mimi, write that down.)

Instead of shaking hands at my massive campaign rallies, I’ll employ the edgier fist bump or the lesser-known ear lobe tug. To appeal to younger voters, I’ll go all street, saying things like, “That’s what I’M talking about,” and, “I hear that, bruh.” That way they’ll know I’ve been around the block a few times, like that Vanilla Ice character. Know what I’m saying?

Maybe I’ll start smoking a pipe. Pipes make people automatically smarter and more sophisticated. If you smoked a pipe, you’d know that already.

Perhaps I’ll carry a pre-tattered copy of Nietzsche’s “Beyond Good and Evil” everywhere I go in order to appear more scholarly and philosophical, even if what I’m really reading is Lewis Grizzard’s “Don’t Bend Over in the Garden, Granny, You Know Them Taters Got Eyes,” and for the third time this year.

I’ll also need a signature move, something less lame than Richard Nixon’s V for Victory, but not as radical as Howard Dean’s primal shriek, whatever that was. I’m thinking something more along the lines of Pinky Tuscadero’s finger-snap-fist-slap-point maneuver.

Wait, was that Pinky or Leather Tuscadero? Mimi, get on YouTube and look that up.

And while I’m on the subject, I’m definitely going to need a right-hand man or woman — a tireless campaign manager who’s going to do all of the actual work of mayoring while I’m at home drinking Dos Equis and watching “Benny Hill.”

Apply now! Help me make Lewiston great again! Other encouraging slogans I haven’t made up yet!

It would be real helpful if your name is Mimi, so I don’t have to go back and edit a bunch of stuff.

Mark LaFlamme is a Sun Journal staff writer. Mimis with slogans can email him at [email protected] 

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