ALE TO THE CHIEF

Dedicated readers: An old essay.

Merle Bell practically shouted, “I voted for him for President. He’s a great guy. He’s the kind of guy you’d want to go out and have a beer with.”

I’d heard that expression before but I never heard anyone say it until I met Merle Bell. I was sitting next to Merle and his wife, Raylene, at a slot machine in Las Vegas. He mentioned he was from Texas and how proud he was of former governor and presidential candidate Rick Perry. (I guess Texans would even be proud of somebody who could tie their shoes after having George Bush as governor. Come to think of it, shoe-tieing is probably a lost art in the Land of Cowboy Boots.) That’s when he started shouting out his prospective drinking buddies.

I told him I didn’t think beer drinking should be among the criteria for selecting a president. Merle issued a brief “Hrmph,” then declared that of course “thurz other important ishuhs, like puttin’ up that wall along the border to keep them Mex-ee-kin furners from takin’ jobs away from Amurricans. And having an English Only Amendment “so’s we can purtect our language ‘ginst them Spanish speakin’ aliens.” I was about to respond when Raylene’s slot machine began clanging, indicating she had won the $10,000 jackpot. A dark haired casino cashier named Blanca came over to help Raylene cash her ticket.

I remember the picture of President Obama sipping a beer at a microbrewery in Maine last year. I guess his handlers were trying to appeal to guys like Merle. The picture showed Obama with that foam beer mustache you get sometimes. I read in the paper that he quickly used a napkin to wipe it off. Personally, I don’t drink beer with guys who use napkins. What do you think a sleeve is for?

It’s kind of like the photo-op New York Mayor de Blasio did recently when he ate a pizza with a knife and fork. You don’t win votes that way. It just irritates and insults people. They know de Blasio and Obama probably eat foie gras every night. Everybody knows these guys with million dollar salaries haven’t been near a pizza since The Godfather came out. Anyway I’m sure there’s no one in New York who says, “De Blasio’s a great guy. He’s the kind of guy you’d want to have a pizza with.”

Still, I wouldn’t disqualify a guy just because he uses a napkin while drinking beer or a knife and fork while eating pizza. My friend, Ralph, practically empties a salt shaker on steak he hasn’t even tasted yet. It’s not something I would do but it’s his steak. Merle frowns on that kind of behavior; excessive use of salt. “Not presidential,” he muttered.

I consider myself pretty liberal when it comes to the gastronomic arts, though I refuse to sit at the bar with anyone drinking Bud Light. Go sit in the kiddie section if you’re going to drink colored water. And order a Shirley Temple while you’re at it.

I believe that people’s personal habits do not reflect in any way on their ability to govern or on their ability to perform their job. The great ex-Yankee pitcher Dock Ellis famously pitched a no-hitter while high on LSD. If I were the Yankees manager at that time I would have made sure there was a tab or two in Ellis’ locker every time he pitched. In fact I might have put a few into the locker of that goddamn relief pitcher they had. He cost us the pennant that year.

After Raylene collected her big jackpot, they invited me for a drink at the bar. A television was broadcasting the first Republican Forum in Iowa where there were about ten candidates speaking. The venue was a red, white and blue barn, the traditional Iowa home. Our conversation naturally turned to the candidates.

“Well, Merle, which one do you want to have a beer with?” I asked.

Merle laughed good-naturedly. “I ain’t made up my mind yet. Not ‘til I see their table manners.”

I smiled. “I heard that Jeb Bush is excellent with chopsticks.”