I love Halloween. The sense of community, the candy, the creative costumes, the brisk October air all fill me with that pleasant aching of a childhood nearly gone. On second thought, I really just love candy. But after I’ve eaten enough candy, I’m also quite partial to a little mischief. Small pranks can add that extra spice to the spirit of Halloween. Things like wrapping a car in toilet paper, or putting plastic bugs in with the silverware, or releasing ten thousand giant vampire bats into the Garver Room and locking all the doors are some of the techniques used by willey tricksters on Halloween. A recent example of an innocent good time came from Senator John Kerry. Supposedly he knew this guy John Edwards, and convinced him to run for vice president instead of campaigning for his own seat in the senate. This Kerry character then LOSES the election, and leaves his pal Edwards with neither senate seat, nor home state political base, nor venue through which he can maintain his notoriety to run for president him self in 2008. That Senator Kerry, I tell you, he’s a trickster! But after a few good laughs I began to feel a little bad for John Edwards. He does after all sound funny. It’s not his fault he gets picked on. So I decided to look around campus here at Andover for a job since the whole second-in-line-for-command-of-the-free-world thing sorta fell through. The first place I stopped was in the Chapel. There were several guys there from OPP hooking up voice-activated booby traps for next week’s ASM. I suggested a better way to get kids quiet would be to hire John Edwards to assist in discipline at All-Schools. They loved the idea, since the poison tipped darts fired from the traps kept flying crooked. The one problem is the limited hours: one per week. So I headed over to GW. I decided to check my mail and get some money out of the ATM. But I had forgotten that I drained the account when I ordered ten thousand giant vampire bats for a science project. But that made me think of a great idea for John Edwards. He could open up a booth in GW, and if you were out of money to go to a movie, he would sue your doctor for a million dollars, and off you go to the movies. I couldn’t think of any remotely conceivable flaw in the business plan, but then I remembered that Ms. Effinger won’t let you set up a booth in GW, plus it gets really creepy when no one’s there. Some obstacles are simply insurmountable. “Hold on James,” I said. “You’ll find your heart somewhere.” Realizing that has nothing to do with my train of thought, I moved on. “You know,” I thought, “the All-School Meeting job and the ATM scheme are all well and good, but keep in mind that this man will likely make his own presidential bid in 2008. He could really use some experience in the limelight.” So I went back to my dorm, put in a call to Yusuke Uchiyama ’05 WQS Cluster President, my contact in the elite Student Government. I ask if maybe they could find a place for a former U.S. Senator in the organization. There was a pause as this political behemoth collected his thoughts. “His resume looks fine,” said Yusuke. “But listen, Remeika, and listen good. I need to know that when he is in that room, he’s gonna be able to take that pressure. You think he can handle it?” I gulped. The U.S. Senate was prestigious enough, but I realized he never had to walk into a room and make decisions about life and death. “The cameras, crowds, the security…” Yusuke continued, “I’m not saying he’s a dandy, but the attention can turn men rotten.” Trying to lighten the mood and stop myself from crying in the presence of this political god, I offered up a joke. “Well”, I replied, “if he does cut it, he could always deliver for Golden Chopsticks.’”
