“Democracy: The state of affairs in which you consent to having your pocket picked, and elect the best man to do it.”

- Benjamin Lichtenberg

There's an old phrase that some men are born with greatness, some achieve greatness and others have greatness thrust upon them. From the way I see it, I'm the latter of the three.

Allow me to explain. I was in Hunter's Diner this week having breakfast, casually talking to some fellow patrons when the topic suddenly turned to politics. When the question of who I was going to vote for came up I answered as honestly as I could in that I wasn't even sure I was going to.

That's when my world changed. An older gentleman looked me dead in the eye and said that it was my duty to pick the next president. I was stunned. After all this time I had no idea that this whole process was about me! Yes, I'm flattered, but to be honest I'm not sure I want that kind of responsibility. I mean I'm really not that good at picking things out in the first place. Don't believe me? Here's the proof; I have a copy of “Where's Waldo” on my bookshelf that I got about six years ago. Guess what? I still haven't finished it.

But what's a guy to do? Granted, I may not be all that enthused about having this responsibility, yet I accept the challenge nonetheless. I just wish I could find a way to clearly choose the right one. I started off thinking that I could go Republican but their mascot is an elephant which just makes me think of Dumbo. I thought that was sort of childish until I found out that the Democrats are backed by a character whose closet friend is Shrek. And speaking of sidekicks there is also the running mates to consider. Without a doubt, Sarah Palin is really pretty, but Joe Bidden is a better dancer. So, again, I'm stuck.

There are always the “issues” I could ponder, but I'm not really sure I understand any of them. The closest I've been to having a foreign policy negotiation is deciding whether or not to have dinner at Connie's or the Shanghai buffet.

You'd think I could narrow the field down by going with the person with the best financial strategy, but I realized that both guys have spent millions of dollars trying to secure a job that only pays a few hundred thousand. To me, that's like buying a new Prada suit so you'll look good at your interview at McDonalds. Impressive; definitely. Financially smart, not so much.

This whole ordeal is sort of like getting a mail-order bride. You have a picture to go by, but you really don't know much about the person except for the fact that they will be affecting your future.

So where does all this leave me? I'm not so sure, but, luckily, I still have a week to decide the future of this nation. I'll try not to let you down.

Auburn native Bradley Molloy's column appears here,

each Sunday, in The Citizen.

He can be reached at lovonian@hotmail.com