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Election Season Blues

Anita G. Gorman

    It had been a difficult election season in Ashleyville, Ohio. The searing antagonisms at the national level seemed to have descended into local elections. Half of the city council seats were being contested as well as the office of mayor, which Jason Arthur Wemberly, Jr. had held for the last four years. Contested was the right word.
    Mayor Wemberly’s father, Jason Arthur Wemberly, Sr. had also been mayor of the fine city of Ashleyville, and no one objected when Junior ran for office. It had seemed, up to one month before the election, that the current mayor, Jason Arthur Wemberly, Jr., would be reelected without so much as a quibble from anyone within earshot. After all, Mayor Wemberly, Jr. (sometimes called JAW Jr.) had done what mayors were supposed to do. He marched in the Fourth of July parade, he led the annual Memorial Day tributes to the town’s fallen military, and he presided over City Council as the members allocated tax money for roads and street lights and the police and fire departments, all without any opposition.
    Then everything changed.
    Some local citizens thought the poison had dribbled onto Ashleyville from the national level. Whatever the cause, Mayor Wemberly’s reelection was now in jeopardy. Someone from the Ashleyville Gazette had found something.
    What was the something? It seems that while in college Mayor Wemberly had been seen kissing Heather Smithson outside of her sorority house on a warm evening in May during the mayor’s junior year at Ashleyville College.
    Huh? That was the reaction of most of Ashleyville’s citizens when they heard the news. Kissing outside a sorority house? Not quite the same as fornication, though most of Ashleyville’s citizens weren’t familiar with the term. Having sex: that’s what they called it. Had anyone taken a photo of the couple in bed? No. All that the public had was hearsay evidence. Someone had seen young Jason and the attractive Heather kissing. Who was the someone? Would someone come forward and reveal himself, or possibly herself? It didn’t seem likely.
    Then it turned out that Mayor Wemberly’s opponent, Horace Manderbee, also had skeletons in his closet. The Ashleyville Gazette reported that Horace Manderbee was often seen betting at a local casino. Yes, the casino was legal in the state of Ohio, but a number of Ashleyville’s good citizens frowned on the entire concept of gambling. Some even went so far as to condemn the state lottery, which, as its name implies, was also legal in the state of Ohio.
    Then Eustacia Turner, a first-year student (formerly known as freshman) at Ashleyville College, decided to run for office. She was eighteen and had never been kissed. That fact became the substance of her platform, in addition to the fact that she had never been inside a casino. She would get laughs by telling people that she had been inside a casino only when watching her favorite movie, Casablanca.
    Then the election took an even darker turn. Jackson Witherspoon, also a first-year student (formerly known as freshman) at Ashleyville College, decided to enter the race. His platform focused on the fact that he had, in fact, kissed Eustacia Turner when they were both seniors at Ashleyville High School. This newsworthy event had taken place at the Senior Prom when the lights were dim and the dancing was slow. Jackson was sure he could find witnesses if needed. No one was suggesting that Jackson and Eustacia had done anything fornicative (a word recently coined by the Gazette) nor that they had visited the local casino, which everyone knew was legal, even if suspicious.
    The Ashleyville Gazette decided that their readers needed endorsements, information, a chart, a map, anything to help them determine for whom they would vote. After much ado, the editorial board came up with their findings and, having abandoned the idea of minute details, just stated the following: “We endorse Jason Arthur Wemberly, Jr. for the office of mayor of the town of Ashleyville, Ohio. After all, JAW, Jr. is the incumbent, and he looks great when he leads the Fourth of July parade. The potholes in our streets have been filled, and all is well.”
    Yes, it wasn’t as formal or as weighty as an endorsement from, say, the Wall Street Journal or the Times of London, but no one expected those august publications to pay attention to tiny Ashleyville. Still, some citizens were concerned that the little that had been revealed about the candidates might conceal more infractions, more sins, more canoodling, even.
    Eric Nordgren, owner and bartender at the Ashleyville Bar, thought the citizens needed more information, perhaps on social media. When bartending became slow one day, he pulled out a big piece of paper from a cabinet and started writing down what he knew about the candidates.
    “Jason Arthur Wemberly, Jr.: current mayor. Does his job. Kissed a girl in college. Didn’t marry her. Is there more to the story?”
    “Horace Manderbee. Likes to bet at the local casino. Is therefore bringing in revenue to both the great state of Ohio and the charming town of Ashleyville. Married and the father of four. Has probably had sex. Not that handsome. May not be the best leader of the Fourth of July parade.”
    “Eustacia Turner: running for mayor as an independent, like all the rest. Her platform: she’s never been kissed and has never been in a casino. Is she lying? Does she know anything about potholes or marching in a parade? She does look pretty good, however.”
    Eric Nordgren the bartender continued. “Candidate Jackson Witherspoon. Claims to have kissed Eustacia Turner. Not much to put on a resume. Kind of young, just like Eustacia.”
    When Eric Nordgren went home that night, he organized his information, included cartoon illustrations, and then put his post on three social media platforms.
    Before long, questions and comments started to pour in, like the beer in Eric’s bar. Some wondered who Eric Nordgren was. He was happy to tell them. “I like beer. I have a wife and three kids. I belong to every civic association in Ashleyville, except for the Ashleyville Women’s Guild. I’m a Scout leader, and every Fourth of July I help both the Girl Scouts and the Boy Scouts put together the best dang floats you can imagine. That’s me, Eric Nordgren.”
    And when Election Day was over, Ashleyville had a new mayor: not Jason Arthur Wemberly, Jr., member of an Ashleyville dynasty; not the contenders Horace Manderbee, Eustacia Turner, or Jackson Witherspoon. No, when the votes had been tabulated it was obvious that the new mayor was a write-in candidate by the name of Eric Nordgren.
    The drinks were on the house the next day. No one complained, though there were murmurs of opposition from the usual suspects.

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