Three things.
First, vote for the best "cam-pain" slogan for my fake run for California Governor. The winner will be announced later this week.
Regarding my platform, I may steal some ideas from Bill Whalen, research fellow at the Hoover Institution.
Whalen suggested in the LA Times this weekendthat California secede from the US, declare war, then immediately surrender and request "nation building" aid. He points out that Iraq got $18.4 billion to restore infrastructure. He also suggests the Governor take the $500 million he wants to spend on job training and job creation and give it to director James Cameron to make a movie. Cameron will double our money. Finally, Whalen thinks the state should sponsor a reality TV show based on the pig and the pony causing hijinx inside the Schwarzenegger home, pets the Governor held up in his State of the State speech as symbols of teamwork, because they managed to open a bin of dog food. "I want to see if they really can get their mitts on that dog food," Whalen writes.
Second, when I'm finally elected Governor, what should we call my husband? "First Dude" is taken. Some have suggested "Tarzan" (me Jane), or "The Mominator". Since he's a pilot, perhaps he should be called my "First Officer" (heh, heh, except he'd divorce me if I tried). Please submit your ideas.
Third, pray.
Actually, prayer should be first on this list, since it's the only thing here which can be effective.
Just ask the folks in Mobile, Alabama, trying to land the $35 billion Air Force tanker contract. Mobile is where much of the tanker construction will take place if Northrop Grumman decides to compete again, and then wins...again. Recently, a woman appeared at the local City Council meeting to say that if Mobile wanted the tanker, folks had better get down on their knees.
Velma Jackson reportedly told the council members in late December that they need to hold prayer meetings in the town's Government Plaza every Wednesday at noon to win the contract and its 1,500 jobs for Mobile. If locals don't pray, not only will Northrop and its European partners lose the contract, Jackson also warns the waters will rise up and flood the city.
The City Council told Jackson it could not give her permission to hold weekly prayer meetings on county property, according to local reports. "I'm not asking for permission," she replied, "I'm delivering a message."
I don't know if anyone's been praying in Mobile since Jackson delivered her message, but one week ago, Northrop Grumman suddenly announced it's moving its corporate headquarters from Los Angeles to Washington, DC, to be closer to its number customer, the Pentagon. This puts it about a thousand miles closer than chief rival Boeing. That closeness could possibly give it an edge.
The Lord works in mysterious ways.
Questions? Comments? Funny Stories? Email funnybusiness@cnbc.com
