Before I blew out all seventy-two candles on my birthday cake this year, I made a wish. I wished for something that had been gnawing at my soul ever since I first received my AARP card.
It was finally time to launch my political career.
But a sobering thought struck me. Am I perhaps too young to be taken seriously as a Democratic congressperson? I worry that the powers that be might take one look at my salt-and-pepper hair, only slightly elevated blood pressure, and spry body with both its original hips, and laugh me right out of the Capitol.
Could I even relate to the older members of the party? What if they make a reference to some TV show or song from the late sixties, when I’m more familiar with pop culture of the mid-seventies?
What if I declare my candidacy, only for Steny Hoyer to tell me, “Come back when you’ve got at least another decade of accumulated wisdom—or a pacemaker.”
I suppose I understand the party leaders’ reticence to step aside. Naturally, if you’ve been in Congress since before the moon landing, you’re going to cling to that seat with all the strength your gnarled, arthritic fingers can muster.
But it’s clear to anyone who has been paying attention that the Democrats have a big problem: youth—specifically, way too much of it.
You know, the sprightly fifty-eight-year-olds who are tired of being told, “Doing something isn’t really our thing, kid.” Those who insist that furrowing your brow isn’t enough? Some might say, if it weren’t for needing a young person to occasionally reset the DNC’s Wi-Fi router, it wouldn’t be worth keeping them around at all. While I don’t necessarily agree with that, I do believe that the younger wing of the party needs to learn to respect their elders.
Because let’s face it. The Democratic Party is powered by experience. Deep, rich, Kennedy-era experience. When you walk into a Democratic leadership meeting, it’s less “caucus” and more “group of people that remember being terrified by that movie of the train coming directly at the camera.” That’s what got them where they are today. And there’s no reason to rock the boat.
So, don’t let my youthful, septuagenarian face fool you. I know what keeps this party moving: long-winded floor speeches, strong opinions about AM radio, thinking everyone in their twenties is a millennial, and being able to remember when Joe Biden was just some hotshot, junior punk senator from the backwaters of Delaware.
So, please, put me in coach, I’m ready to do my part for this country and acquire insider stock market trading tips. I mean, with all the Democrats dying in office lately, can we really afford not to have a deep bench?