The President Doesn’t Need Intelligence

What’s so great about intelligence and listening to people? His IQ is the biggest, what would he need with that? And daily! He’s a smart guy. Why would such a smart guy need to hear the same stuff over and over again everyday? These intelligence guys love to hear themselves talk – who’s got time?

Not me, he says, out loud, laughs. Well, I got a tee time.

He checks his watch.

He was alone in the Oval Office and he was feeling particularly presidential. They had just given him the daily Intelligence Briefing – but whew – the only thing brief about it is the name!

And how many times do I have to tell them? he says to himself. Dots.

Use dots.

Who’s got time to read all that? Dots make it so much easier to read.

Not that the President doesn’t like to read. No, he reads a lot. Books even, though who’s got the time for that? But don’t give him a book and call it a briefing. It’s not. It matters what you call stuff – words are important, people! Just keep it short – and why, why, why with the same stuff everyday?

Switch it up, or skip it!

I mean I like Big Macs. I like Big Macs a lot. But every damn day? Switch it up with a quarter pounder or a fish sandwich. I’m a big fan of those chicken nuggets too. Now, there’s a smart guy – the guy who thought of those. Take the bone out of it. Less fuss that way. Brilliant. He had a bone to pick with the bone so he took the bone out of it and made a nugget. Man, now that’s a good deal. He didn’t remember that part from Ray’s biography though, as great as it was. He’d have to have his assistant re-read it.

Man, is it lunch time yet? the President says, then looks at his watch. Only 9:30. Then, he looks around the Oval Office. He shivers. There’s no one there – but for a moment, he can’t help wonder who is listening.

***

My son comes home from Kindergarten, says he hates the President. For the love of G*d, I think, he’s only five. I breathe deeply, ask him if he knows who that is.

Of course. They’re learning about the President. He knows who the first President is when I ask. The second is Andrew Adams.

That’s very close, I say. John Adams. Like your Uncle John.

I think he’s stupid, my son says, talking about the current President.

Why do you think that?

He shrugs.

Have you heard him talk? I ask.

He shrugs.

A little, he says. On TV.

He certainly doesn’t seem all that smart sometimes, I agree. But that’s hard to know because TV only ever gives us part of the story.

He knows who the last President is too. They colored a small workbook in class telling a short biography about him, brought it home. His mother hung it on the refrigerator.

That President he likes.

Do you like him? he asks.

I don’t know, I say. It’s hard to say whether you like someone like the President. There’s no way to really know. The way we see them on TV is different than how they are.

I pause, look out the window.

I don’t like many of his decisions, I say. But I don’t like many of the decisions any President has made.

He doesn’t ask what decisions and I’m glad. I don’t want to explain to him endless war and how I believe it is used to obfuscate greed and economic wrecklessness.

Mommy doesn’t like him, he says, meaning the current president.

No, I say.

My friends at school don’t like him.

I guess they wouldn’t, I say, knowing our neighborhood.

This is the place we live now. A friend of mine who lives someplace different began homeschooling her son when the kids in his junior high taunted a Pakistani and some Hispanic students by chanting the current President’s name as they came in the school.

Do you like him? he asks, and this time he means the current President.

And here’s the thing: you don’t want to lie to the young, but you don’t want to destroy their innocence with your cynicism either. If what I think matters at all. I tell myself, it’s only to this little boy.

I don’t know him, I say. I don’t like a lot of his decisions. I didn’t like a lot of the decisions of the past President either. The truth is, I’m not sure how much control either one of them really has.

If I’m honest, I say. I think they have a lot of power, too much, but I think we think they have more power than they actually have. I think the TV and news reinforces that belief, basically tells us what we want to hear, regardless of what we believe.

Who do you like better? he asks. Him or the last President?

I think of the last President trying to dip a cookie in milk and the brim of the cup being too narrow, slyly poking fun at his detractors. I think about how he had Dylan to the White House and put Tombstone Blues on his playlist (John the Baptist, after torturing a thief/ Looks up at his hero, the Commander-in-Chief/ Saying, Tell me, great hero, but please make it brief/ Is there a hole for me to get sick in?). I think of him having a beer with that celebrity chef turned travel journalist in that hole-in-the-wall restaurant in Cambodia.

I’d rather have a beer with the last President, I say. If someone made me pick. But that’s not what’s important. It’s about whether I think he makes good decisions as a leader. I think he acts more like the leaders I like, but I don’t like a lot of his decisions. This President is not as well spoken and doesn’t seem as smart, but I don’t know how true that is because I don’t know him or what goes into his decisions.

The truth is, and there are a lot people who would be disappointed in me: I don’t believe it matters that much. I believe the only thing I can control in the world is my reaction to things. And you can like him or not, it’s your decision. Or you can not choose sides. That’s what I like about where we live.

At least for now, I don’t say.

I don’t like him, he says.

That’s fine, I say. It’s your choice. And at least that’s better than hate, I tell him. And I tell myself, if that’s all I ever teach him, in spite of myself, that’s fine too.