How Not to Run for President Read Online Free Page A

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    â€œHa-ha,” Uncle robert said. “Who’ll be laughing when you look horrible on TV and I don’t?”
    â€œThat’s what I’m trying to tell you. The whole election, it used to mean something. Now it’s all photo ops. Zero substance,” my dad argued. “Same goes for this Brandon.”
    â€œI don’t know, I think she’s really got something with her Fresh Idea Party. And at this point, I don’t care if it’s a woman, a man, or an alien with three heads,” said Uncle robert. “Just as long as she gets something done if she gets elected. She’s for the little man, right?”
    â€œI guess so,” said my dad.
    â€œWell, then, that’ll work for you,” my uncle teased him.
    Simon and a few of the other kids burst out laughing. My dad glared at Uncle robert. “And if she knows how to represent stupid people, you’re in luck.”
    Everyone laughed again. My dad and my uncle could trade insults all night, and they often did.
    My dad is short, and so am I, but it’s nothing off-the-charts short. It’s just that Uncle robert is a grizzly bear in comparison.
    They mostly get along, but every once in a while their friendly teasing seems like it could erupt into a fistfight. I wouldn’t want to see my dad lose.
    And he would. Badly.
    It’s kind of like me fighting my big brother. I wouldn’t attempt that. Christopher has about a foot of height on me, and too many pounds to think about. Plus, he knows how to fight. I don’t.
    I sat there for a minute and watched T.J. crush the ball over the heads of the guys playing outfield. He was an amazing hitter. You can’t take that away from him.
    Actually, I can’t take anything away from him. He’s too strong.
    I play shortstop. I love my position, except for the fact it has the word short in it. Why does it have to be called that? There’s first baseman, second baseman … Why not stopman? There’s catcher, pitcher … Why not stopper? It doesn’t help that when my grandma comes to games, she yells, “Way to go, shortie!”
    Like a lot of shortstops in history, I’m a better defensive player than a hitter. Not that I put myself in their league, but the same was true of famous shortstops like Ozzie Smith, Omar Vizquel, and Ozzie Guillen.
    Sometimes I think I should change my name to start with an O , to give myself better odds of making it to the big leagues. Oidan. That sounds weird. Forget it.
    Then again, that would leave out Derek Jeter, and I wouldn’t want to do that. I love the Yankees. I know it’s wrong because I live in northwestern Ohio, and I should love the Cleveland Indians. I do, I totally do, and going to an Indians game last year with Simon was awesome, but I also just love the history of the Yankees.
    Dream #1: Go to a Yankees game at Yankee Stadium. Dream #2: Go to the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York.
    Neither of those places is even that far away. But it had been taking a long time to convince my parents we should go.
    The Football Hall of Fame? Oh, sure. We’d already been there, because Christopher wanted to go. Not only was it in Ohio, but what my brother wanted, he usually got.
    I know my dad tries to treat us equally. He just can’t help it that he’s more interested in Christopher’s athletic career than in mine. Or that he doesn’t come to all my band concerts because they tend to be at night, when he works. He’s never really gotten why I like the clarinet. Football is a lot easier to understand, and I can’t really blame him for that.
    Sometimes it feels like our family has two sides: me and Mom, and Christopher and Dad.
    We heard cheers coming from up on the embankment. I saw the Fresh Idea Party bus pulling up to park on the side of the road, where minivans usually took up the spots.
    â€œHere they come!” said my dad. Everyone in the field came