Not long ago I wrote an editorial encouraging Jacksonville citizens to run for public office just for the fun of it.  Last week, while attending Economic Development Institute in Indianapolis, I decided to take my own advice.  Our class of 70 students had to elect three representatives to participate in a focus group evaluating the course curriculum.  I wasn’t particularly interested in the focus group, but I decided to run “for the fun of it.”

On Tuesday, the six candidates gathered at the front of the room to give their five minute presentations to the class.  The instructor randomly drew names from a hat and, fortunately, I was drawn next to last.

The first four presenters were oh so serious, describing their credentials, their lofty ideas for changes to EDI and their commitment to listen to the class.  All of them were worthy candidates.  Then the leader said, “Our next presenter is Mickey Anders.”

I began by solemnly explaining how the class representatives needed to have CONVICTION!  But then with a smirk I explained that my CONVICTION wasn’t like the others’ because I believed that somebody ought to bring some FUN to this election.  That’s when I donned the Mickey Mouse ears, and everybody started smiling.

“I want to run a fun campaign,” I explained, “but I realize that if I run such a campaign, there’s an outside chance that I might win.”  I explained that I did NOT want to win, so I had devised an anti-campaign.  Then I added, “I have decided the best way to lose is to campaign… AGAINST MYSELF!  So I am here today to convince you NOT to vote for me.”  That’s when they started laughing out loud.

My campaign posters were little Post-It notes scattered around the room with Mickey Mouse’s face drawn in a circle with a line through it and the word VOTE at the bottom.  They had been looking at this logo all day, but they didn’t know what it meant.  When I flashed it on the overhead projector, it dawned on them what it meant - “Don’t vote for Mickey!”  And the class started to fall apart.

On the overhead projector, I presented the letters of my name as an acrostic explaining the main points of my campaign:
M = ME - Don’t vote for ME.
I = I don’t want the job.
C = See if you can’t elect somebody good.
K = Can’t you find somebody better than me?
E = Elect them, not me!
Y = Yes, I can, but I won’t!

By the time I got to the TOP TEN reasons not to vote for me (also on overheads), the room was in total hysteria, hooting and hollering and egging me on.

I explained that I had a Top Ten list just like David Letterman and asked if they wanted me to show it to them.  They all shouted, “YESSS!!!!”  And the laughter got louder with each descending number.

“Top Ten Reasons why you should NOT vote for me.
10.   You don’t want EDI to become a Mickey Mouse organization.
9.  I’ve got a great resume, but I’m not even going to tell you what’s on it.
8.   What will your mother say when you tell her you voted for a guy like me?
7.   I’m from Arkansas, the home of bimbo eruptions and trailer park floozies.
6.   The last book I read was Two Hundred Yards to the Outhouse by Willie Makeit.
5.  Any Arkansan worth his salt would be named Bubba, not Mickey.
4.  Arkansans still think there are only 12 seconds in a year.  January 2, February 2....
3.  I’m so dense I thought EDI stood for “Everybody Does It.”
2.   The last time you voted for an Arkansan you got BILL CLINTON!
And the number one reason not to vote for me is-
1.  You know in your heart you don’t want to vote for a man who wears mouse ears!”

Then I led the whole class in singing my theme song to the tune of “Mickey Mouse:”

“Vote-for-class-rep.  Vote-for-class-rep.
Who’s the whacko of the class that says, “Don’t vote for me?”
M-I-C-K-E-Y Please don’t vote for me.
Hey, there. Hi, there. Ho, there.  He’s as crazy as can be.
M-I-C-K-E-Y Please don’t vote for me.
Vote for them.  And Not for me.
If you do, you’ll always wonder why (why, why, why)
Come along and sing a song.  It’s easy as can be.
M-I-C-K-E-Y Please don’t vote for me.”

I ended by inviting the class to look up my campaign on the Internet at www.not-me.org.  “In conclusion,” I said, “I can sum up my whole campaign in one word – NOT ME!”

That’s when they all jumped to their feet in spontaneous applause, and they just wouldn’t stop.

My campaign turned out to be more fun that I realized it was going to be. And, furthermore, it was an utter failure.  I got elected!