Jim Hutchins who is running for the senate is pulling his hair out! Mudslinging commercials, second guessing the public, up and down crazy daily polls, marathon campaigns, public persona adjustments, and the need to cultivate an image and hone a message. Then there is the constant job of raising money… raising more money… raising more and more money… ad infinitum. Meanwhile he is staring down the harsh world of exhaustion, perfecting the sound bite, moving from steam to steel, organizing delegate strategies through endless cell phone babble at all hours. All the while Jim is expressing to his staff that this or that region has been claimed only to see some unexpected event or person come and take it away. Then it is back to plan B. “Ahhhh… excuse me, sir, but that was plan B,” states a dead tired adviser. “We are at plan C now,” he continues, not even knowing what day it is.
The whole campaign for high office is a grind of grinds and if Mr. Hutchins gets any traction out of it he better run with it, sleep be damned. But here is the kicker: after he has laid out all the issues, at the end of the day Americans really only care about one thing: CAN THEY GET THEIR PIZZA DELIVERED WITHIN HALF AN HOUR? And he realized that an election turns on a dime and a roll of the dice, J.H. suddenly has to face the reality he should have gone into another business like owning a pizza joint. And make dang sure that his drivers were trained in Daytona. That, after all is where the Nascar dads truly come in handy. Less on voted, more on fast delivery.