Vote TEEJ

This originally appeared in The Argonaut on Jan. 29, 2008. 


All the election news has me excited. Since I was 12, I’ve done my best to pay attention to politics and presidential elections in particular. If my sixth grade class had been able to vote, Ross Perot would have been president.
That is why 12-year-olds don’t get to vote.

A couple years later, I calculated how long it would be until I could run for president myself. I’ve never held an elected office outside of high school clubs and my one campaign for student council was a lot like this year’s Miami Dolphins. My one win came via the votes of friends. I didn’t have enough of them.
Parents in this country are fond of telling their kids they can be anything they want, even president. I’m throwing my hat into the ring right now.
Tranchell ’16.

I figure if I start now, I might have enough money to run in one state and drop out after garnering less than one percent of the vote.
Just like high school.
If I’m lucky, I’ll hang on for a few more states and then drop out like Dennis Kucinich.That’s my last Kucinich joke, I promise. He’s back in Ohio with his smoking hot wife and I’m here in Moscow, waiting to see a UFO of my own.

OK, that’s the last Kucinich joke. Enough about him, more about me.2016 is only eight years away. That means whomever is elected this time around will be an outgoing incumbent. I won’t have to face either a popular two-term president or someone who spent eight years solidifying his/her reputation as a waste of space.
On the other hand, if the next president turns out to be a one-term-and-out punk, I may have to face 2012’s election winner.

This gets more complicated all the time.I can’t let my potential competition prevent me from entering the race. I can’t let not having any money, supporters or experience prevent me from putting myself on the line for my country.Age, on the other hand, has kept me from running. Why wait until 2016, you may have asked yourself? I will turn 37 a week before the general election.
All those hindrances — money, support, experience — are why they don’t let 25-year-olds run for president. Or in my case, 28-year-olds. For now, and for the next election cycle as well, I’m left with just voting for president.

That’s still a big deal to me as it should be to everyone. There’s a naïve pre-teen boy inside me that wants to vote even if it’s for the wrong person. It’s someone who refused to vote for the establishment but for some weird reason thought voting for someone shorter than him was a good idea.
Election results have a way of jading people. One way to get over that is to attempt to make a change at the highest level. Sure, my presidential run will be mocked, scorned, rebuffed, and — most likely — ignored, but I have to try. It isn’t political suicide if one has no political life to kill.Or, I can just vote and encourage others to do the same. (Yes, I once said most journalists don’t vote, but that’s because I read it in two places I thought were reliable but nothing beats hearing directly from other people. Note to presidential hopeful self: Don’t trust polls.)
Part of me wants to participate in primary and/or caucus voting but that requires party affiliation and that I won’t do.

I’m registered in Nevada anyway, so technically I missed my chance.
Don’t you do the same. Pay attention to the debates and speeches. Decide for yourself who you want to be the leader of this country for the next 4-8 years.

And remember to vote T.J. in 2016.

Can I hear you now?

I have one bar. Sometimes. I can make and receive calls, sort of. I can get text messages, but not send them.

Welcome to the middle of nowhere.

If you don't hear from me, that's why. You are asking yourself how I can be blogging if I can't even get a cell phone signal, aren't you?

I should get my own mobile broadband card and none of these things would be a problem.

Indiana Jones and the Latest Crusade

Sure, everyone else had their reviews of "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull" up days ago. Yes, I saw the film as soon as I could Thursday, but I had a good reason to wait to write anything about it.

I went again. I took my little brother. He was barely a year old when the last Indiana Jones movie came out, but that's part of the appeal. Hell, I was a toddler when "Raiders of the Lost Ark" was released. Since its release, the name Indiana Jones has been synonymous with high adventure, like saying "Errol Flynn" in the 1930s. You know you are in for a good time and maybe--maybe--learn something.

When I was five and had seen "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" about a million times, I knew true adventure was in history and getting out there and digging it up. Some things have changed, but when I dig into a story, I always see myself putting on that brown fedora.

And that is why so many people are shelling out money the don't have to see this movie. I'm broke and I've bought three tickets. One was a matinée so lay off.

OK, I'm a sucker and I paid $6 for the "collector's bucket" of popcorn. I paid a bit more than that for the action figure I had in my jacket pocket each time I saw the movie.

"But what did you think of the movie," you are asking. I've seen it twice now. Shouldn't that be enough?

No, no. It never is. So here is my review of "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull":

Knowledge is the greatest treasure in the world. If you don't believe that, you can go watch the next romantic comedy that infiltrates your local showhouse. If, on the other hand, you do believe that knowledge is the greatest treasure of all, don't let that which seems unbelievable prevent you from searching for the truth.

That's it. Does it makes sense? No and neither does much of this movie. Do I care?

Um, no, I don't.

I'm going to visit the official movie Web site now and talk myself out of buying the official Indiana Jones fedora. Click my ads and maybe I'll be able to afford it.

It's no secret

One thing I can't stand is control freaks. Even as a child, I had authority issues. If you tell me what to do, I will most likely do the opposite.

Yes, my claims to dictatorship ARE ironic, that's the point.

When someone I don't know much about tries to push around someone I love, I bristle up like a scared cat and want to yell, "Don't tell her what to do. You are not her boss."

It's a good thing I haven't been in Moscow. I might have made a situation that turned out for the best into a bigger clusterfuck than it needed to be.

The hardest part for me is telling people to stand up for themselves. I can get all bossy trying to convince others not to take any shit from anyone. It's like an overbearing parent telling a child not to give in to peer pressure. Don't give in. Don't do it. It makes me feel like a hypocrite when I order another person not to be a puppet to outside forces.

The good news is that the need in some people to feel powerful is so great that they cave and run away when confronted with their shortcomings.

It's the way of most dictators and bullies. They aren't used to having their shortcomings forced in front of their faces. Instead of taking a long look and changing, they turn tail and run.

I'm glad they do. It makes easier for people like me to take over.

WELCOME TO THE TEEJOCRACY!

Greetings, to everyone, be you wayward traveler, Internet addict, past reader, or "other."
This is the new blog of T.J. Tranchell and shall serve as a continuation of his work at The Argonaut. We will have new columns as well as reprints (or repostings) of columns that appeared over the last year and a half.

So sit back, relax, grab a can of soda and get ready for the ride.

I don't promise it won't be bumpy.