I readily admit, I’m biased on this one, so…grain of salt…
Perhaps I had the worst education growing up, though not so bad that I got me some learnin’ in me, but could use me some learnin’ some’ore. Let’s call it something between a flyover education and a coastal one. How about rocky? Let’s go with rocky. My education was rocky. So when I heard what happened at the end of Hamilton, I didn’t think much of it, but of course, so many others did. Stupid education, why didn’t you teach me to get all up in arms about this? Oh, that’s right, because instead of being pissed off about it, I was bummed. I wanted to be there. I believe this is what some of my better teachers would have called a teachable moment. And in this instance, a missed opportunity to take advantage of that teachable moment.
I don’t know about you, but my creative little mind began spinning. How awesome would it have been to have a present day political figure hop onto the stage after being addressed directly by a cast member in character and the two have some improvised anachronistic dialogue? It would be like Westworld, but without all the sex and violence. I mean, come on, who among us hasn’t wondered how many of our elected officials aren’t actually just robots? If anything, I think Hamilton should make this a recurring thing. Plant a politician in the audience every night, make the show a twofer.
But he was just there to enjoy the show—every person should be able to head out into public without being the unsuspecting recipient of attention whether by comment or question. I’ll give you that, but I am going to thin the up in arms heard a bit. If you’ve ever watched TMZ for longer than the five seconds it takes for a person to recognize, “Oh crap, this is TMZ,” [click – next channel], then you don’t get to complain.
The notion of being a president for everyone, or a vice president for everyone, or chancellor, or the generic leader for everyone is a little empty regardless of country, nation, state, or territory. That’s why there is something so incredibly special about the name President of the United States. It’s not President of America. It’s not President of Everyone or President for Everyone. A dictator is a ruler for everyone, a ruler of everyone—it’s why every four years I’ve always wanted some politician to have that moment of epiphany and say to his or her opponent, “I’m sorry, [insert candidate’s name], I thought we were running for President of the United States, not President for Only the People Who Believe What We Believe.”
There are many people who come from flyover, coastal, and rocky upbringings who have decided to get their doctorates. Some do it for the right reasons, others are pressured into it, while others simply do it because they want the PhD or MD at the end of their names—they like the sound of doctor before their surname. And maybe that’s where we’ve gone wrong. A rose is a rose is a rose. And a president is a politician. And a politician puts forth policy. And…and…and…And that’s the problem. President has become the pinnacle. President [surname]. As if that’s the most important title—as if that’s how every president should be addressed. And yes, that is how every president should be addressed, until he or she earns that allusive title, the one where my own rocky education has me stumped for an answer as to when was the last time, if ever… You get elected president, you get to be called president, you get to be called President [surname]. But you have to earn the title of President of the United States. And good luck on that one, because that’s as much on you as it is on us—the us that’s not united. Can you get the United States? The United. One hundred percent unity. One hundred percent united. Hell, I’ll even settle for ninety-something. You do that, you get to be called President of the United States. If not, you’re just another president. President [surname]. Close, but no cigar. And we don’t need to put an asterisk next to every name in our history books. We can read: President, President, President, President…President of the United States…President, President, President, President…President of the United States…President, President, President…Has there been one? Will there ever be one? Or should we just type “President” and [Fill Down]?
But I digress—I was talking about Hamilton, right? Yes, yes I was. So I must state the obvious. It was Hamilton. It wasn’t Seussical. It was Hamilton. It wasn’t Mamma Mia! It was Hamilton. It wasn’t Cats. Seriously. If it were Cats, then I would probably be right on board with the non-TMZers. If it were Cats, I too would be mid-sentence distracted, talking about how my day was going when I sudden—“Wait, huh…Hold on. Rum Tum Tugger said what?”
So here in America we have Cats, but this was Hamilton and not Cats. And I’m told in Australia one can throw a dead cat onto a table. But, again, this was Hamilton and no one is chucking Jellicles, left and right, to see which one is going to the Heaviside Layer. We’re here in America. We’re here in “of America”. Whether it’s the United States…I guess we’ll find out in January. Until then, as cats go…I’d put my money on Schrodinger’s.
MINUS THE LIKE 