I'm Unsuited for VP

        I dreamed I was asked to be the vice presidential running mate for the Libertarian Party. The scene was set in a small convention center of some sort. I’d been giving a huge rant, one that had attracted a small crowd. (I don’t even now remember what it was about.)

Mr. Barr heard me and asked me to run. (Not to cast aspersions on Mr. Root.) My main concern, and the apparent focus of the dream, was that I don’t own any suits, and don’t really have the money to buy any. This was a huge obstacle, I had to have a suit in order to have a jacket lapel to put my lapel pin on. I tried to convince the powers that be to allow me to wear a kilt with a nice shirt, tie, vest and jacket. The vest had to match the jacket, so I was going to have to buy a suit, anyway.

I didn’t want to buy a suit, and I didn’t think it was proper for the campaign to buy the suit. It looks like my candidacy is doomed. I can’t afford to buy a suit. (Not to mention that I didn’t want to become a suit, either.) I tried to talk them into just making me part of their policy board, and perhaps I could work with their speech writers. I wouldn’t have to wear a suit.

N told them that she would buy me a suit. With then settled they then said I would need to cut off my hair.

Yeah. Right.

That was a complete non-starter for N. “The world isn’t ready for a longhaired leader.”

“Yeah, that Jefferson guy had all sorts of problems with that.”

Ad astra per technica,

FF