Tuesday, December 06, 2005

5 days till the day after Bump

Things have slowed down considerably. It's been at least 7 minutes since I sent out a housing change.

Tonight is election night at the old corral. Team captaincy has an interesting history at Hen Hud. When I first started out, the team was so small that pretty much all the upperclassmen claimed the brevet rank of captain, and no one really challenged it, although Dave F was the President of the whole team, whatever that meant. When Kate and Noah were around in their sequential years, they were obviously the team leaders, but not really officially recognized as such. If I remember correctly, it was with Wedro and Jared that I finally decided that we needed something ex officio, and they were Solomonically appointed co-captains. Then, the year after that, we opened it up to elections.

Oy.

I mean, elections seemed like a good idea, except I hadn't reckoned with the concept of electioneering. Richard Nixon, CREEP and a certain Washington hotel were like Teletubbies by comparison. I won't go into details here, but suffice it to say that I was taken aback. Amused, but taken aback. Little had I known...

Despite the muck, or in aid of it, depending on your level of perversity, we stuck with elections for a while. Until last year when I simply didn't want to make an issue out of the obvious, and appointed McHush. End of story, just reward for years of dedication.

But this year I reverted. Not that I don't have my own opinions (and I do get to vote like everyone else), but a leader is someone who, to some extent, people want to be led by. Let the followers decide, in other words. It will be interesting. Nominations were open to anyone, in any combination of one or two (i.e., capt or co-capts), and we practically have every mathematical possibility on the boards. I doubt if there will be a majority on the first ballot, so some sort of run-off will probably ensue. I understand that odds have been posted by the sports book folks in Vegas, so if you want to lay a few bucks on someone, here's your chance.

By the way, at some point I did move the executive term to match the calendar year. When Noah got sort of tired of debate in his senior year, I began to understand the true meaning of senioritis. If he could come down with a touch of it, no one was immune. So matching the calendar year got people while they were still hot to trot, and replaced them with the next hot trotters.

Of course, most people reading this will remember things entirely differently. To which I say, get your own blog, you twit!

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