Oh, what the hell. I’m hereby declaring my candidacy for U.S.A president. After years of pleading from family, friends and strangers throughout the country, I decided, hey, why not?
My life story is great and it’s American. I was born in the state of presidents, the great state of Ohio, in the Rubber CHAMPION of the world, the Jewel of the Cuyahoga, shall I say sacred? City of Akron. In the fateful year of 1949, at the old Peoples Hospital, was I brought into the surly world: half-mile from the Ohio Canal, the burial waters of many families life’s treasures; a quarter mile from the Little Cuyahoga river, where a vital process of tire manufacture took place for the mighty Firestone Tire and Rubber – all God-given natural resources of Akron.
Akron, O Akron: the home city of Hugh Downs, John Lithgrow, Paige Palmer, Jeffy D.(rapper), Clark Gable, Louis-Ferdinand Celine, and the King of Basketball, may I utter his name? Lebron James. Akron has been envied by spiteful, small-minded people, but it is the largest city in America where so many, who left in a fit of madness, eventually return. This the greatness upon which I feed.
God blessed me with my parents, who shall go unnamed. In the second quarter of 1948, they teamed up to produce the zygote from which I sprung. Let us pretend that my father heard a commotion outside the house and had to leave for a moment to investigate. In that case, I would not have been born, but a brother or sister of my ethereal self. Or perhaps no one at all. Perhaps this hypothetical person decided not to run for president but to live out his or her life in private bliss. Ah, the mystery of Fate!
This is the first installment of my Great American Story. A very important basketball game is about to begin which requires my attention.