My turn: Not cut out for presidency

On Presidents Day tomorrow, I will honor our presidents with their favorite pastime — golfing.

The occasion also makes me contemplate what to tell the Mission Manor Nursing Home caregivers in my east Texas hometown of Mt. Vernon, Texas —after I eventually move in to sharpen my domino skills — on why I never became president.

Here are the political realities I will share:

• I couldn’t make complex issues black and white enough to rake in enough green.

• I couldn’t hit a moose.

• I couldn’t see Communists from Portales.

• I didn’t know how to sneak in Oval-Office interns.

• I wouldn’t admit to Playboy that I had “lust in my heart” (but, unlike Jimmy Carter, will cop to ogling their centerfolds).

• I couldn’t tell insurgents to “bring it on.”

• I wouldn’t pretend that the military, postal service, interstates and public schools weren’t Big Government.

• I didn’t think that wars and tax cuts mixed.

• I wouldn’t pretend to be religious.

• I couldn’t win support from birthers who claimed that my ebony-and-ivory FUBU shoes proved that I wasn’t born in Texas.

• I couldn’t win with my tiny base’s Green-Tea-Party platform that listening and compromising for half a loaf is wiser than demonizing and ending up with a biscuit.

• I wasn’t tall enough.

• I couldn’t stay par for the course by beating that old dead horse.