"OK, new topic. Do you think I could get elected President?"
"Yes, but we'd need to raise a lot more money somehow. TV ads aren't cheap. Maybe someday there will be a cheaper way to reach millions of voters."
"What is the best way to raise money for an election campaign?"
"Giving exclusive speeches that only rich people can afford to attend is a common method. Book deals are another. There are other legal, yet dishonest methods, like selling art through an intermediary. It's basically money laundering. The good news is 18 presidents were US representatives first. 20 were governors before becoming presidents. Those are the top two previous jobs for presidents, besides being a lawyer."
"Should I try to become a governor? Or seek some other experience?"
"The longer you stay in Congress, the better your chances are. If you get offered a cabinet position, I'd take it. Same goes for an offer to be someone's running mate as vice president. You have a solid place on a powerful committee. Try to become in charge of it. The chair of the Appropriations Committee is the second most important representative after the Speaker of the House. That's another office you could aim for in the future."
"And you...what are your plans?"
"I'm not ambitious anymore. When I was young, I thought that maybe I could become a general or some other great military leader. Later, I was convinced I would die in battle in my 20s. From my perspective, I have already reached Valhalla. I climbed all the mountains and killed all the dragons. Now all I want to do is live quietly in peace, help you with your endeavors, and watch our kids grow up."
"There's an air of sadness in your words; a taste of unfulfilled dreams."
"Maybe. That's your perspective. From my point of view, once you've cheated death enough times, you start to feel sorry for the Grim Reaper."
"You're never too old for a new adventure. Keep an open mind. For me."
"Roger, good copy."
Given the demands of parenthood, I didn't want to stray too far from home. I decided to spend my free time reading the classics and writing poetry. It was a nice change of pace from writing military articles. Many men have written on war, yet poetry has had a greater impact on civilization. I particularly enjoyed Kipling and his famous poem If. Here it is:
***
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
***
Kipling was a soldier himself and had a reputation as a patriot. His only son was later killed in battle during WW1.
Another poem that spoke to me strongly is Invictus. It was written by a man who had a leg amputated because of tuberculosis and then had to have the other leg amputated a few months later.
***
Out of the night that covers me
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance,
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate
I am the captain of my soul.
***
The poems of Kobayashi Issa also spoke to me. His pen name means Small Forest One Cup of Tea. Despite a life full of tragedy which included the death of his mother, wife, and children, he remained optimistic and often funny. He wrote thousands of haikus, often about animals. My two favorite poems of his are below:
***
New Year's Day—
everything is in blossom!
I feel about average.
...
O snail
Climb Mount Fuji,
But slowly, slowly!
***
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