I have been advised I need to be a bit more upbeat in my campaign approach.
OK.
I have been advised the world is really a wonderful place and people are good and things could be better, but we need to make the most of what we have here and now.
Yes.
Yesterday I knocked on a door and the woman who came to that door greeted me by name.
I stood amazed.
It showed.
“The accordion,” she said. “Bill Meicher,” the name of our accordion teacher in the halcyon days of actually wanting to strap a thirty pound piece of machinery on your chest and smile trying to make music.
“Oh my,” I said, “of course,” and she signed my nomination paper as we talked about those squeezebox days and people who play the accordion so well we wondered laughingly why we ever tried.
“So these two guys were in a bar,” I said – you gotta hear this one – “and they were enjoying a beer and a burger after an accordion gig and the one said to the other,
‘You know, I don’t think I locked the car.’
So the other guy goes out right away to check and comes back with a long face.
‘Don’t tell me,’ said his buddy at the table.
‘Yeah, doggone it anyway. Somebody left us another one.'”
That’s an accordion joke.
The woman came running down the street after me and she said, “I changed my mind. That’s the worst accordion joke I’ve ever heard. Can I erase my name?”
I’m joking.