Good things happen to those who get their sleep |

Good things happen to those who get their sleep

Many say that my greatest strength is I know what sucks about me. For this I cannot take full credit; my wife has been very helpful.

Other than the usual faults – selfishness, laziness, a judgmental nature and a fetish for feathers and latex – my biggest weakness is a bad brain. I have the attention span of a hummingbird on Pepsi.

Fortunately, like some of our country’s leaders, I have not let my defects keep me from public service. Despite my incompetence, I have sat on the board of directors of more than a few social and political organizations, as well as nonprofit groups. Unlike some of my fellow board members, I don’t flaunt my flaws at meetings by speaking up; I often sleep through meetings.

Generally, I can make it through most of a conference before I nod off.

Unless they go right into the treasurer’s report. As soon as the discussion turns to (these are actual subjects) “regular assessments,” “adjustments to reconcile excess of revenues over expenses to net cash provided to operating activities,” I’m in a coma.

Many board members would be ashamed to pass out at meetings. Not me. I’m of the mind that as long as I’m sleeping, I won’t say anything stupid. In fact, I’ll go as far as saying if more figures of authority slept on the job, the world would be a better place.

I should point out that I don’t go to these meetings with the intention of sleeping. I try to pay attention. It is just that the subject matter is so tedious there is not enough caffeine in South America to keep me interested.

Just last weekend, I was attending a meeting of the homeowners association of a condo project where we have a rental unit. I sit on that board because my mate and I used to live there and many of our friends still do.

Since all other board members live out of the county, I feel it is important to have someone to represent the interests of the locals who actually live in their units.

We had just finished discussing parking, painting, landscaping, and the storage of bicycles – issues I was concerned about – when we moved on to the budget. I was determined to remain awake. For a while I did, but when the treasurer began to drone on, my eyes started to cross. The next thing I knew I standing at the front of the conference room naked. LUCKILY I WAS ONLY DREAMING.

I awoke to applause. I looked quickly to determine that I was still wearing pants and then said, “Did I miss something?”

It seems that while I was sleeping I was nominated, seconded, and elected vice president of the homeowners board.

I didn’t want to appear ungrateful, but in my mind vice president is a lame position. That is why no one on the board wanted the honor. It doesn’t have the prestige of president, responsibility of treasurer, the penmanship of secretary or the macho image of sergeant at arms.

Vice President has a lot in common with the Miss Congeniality award at beauty pageants – both are given to the likable loser.

Take Dick Cheney for instance. Since becoming the second most powerful person in the country, he’s like a ghost. Certainly, since elected, he has done a good job for his friends at Haliburton with billions of dollars of contracts in Iraq, but other than that, he is noticeably absent. By the same token, both Dan Quayle and Bob Dole were mostly out of the picture.

I hope to model my vice presidency after Al Gore. Under Clinton he was policy-involved yet he didn’t grope interns. Certainly I don’t have Al Gore’s (or even Dan Quayle’s) intelligence, but I can outdance both of them.

Despite the fact I had no say in my election, I hope to bring some respect back into the office of second fiddle. If something, God forbid, were to happen to the president, I would ascend to the throne. It is for that reason we will never be in the same location. If our condo project was ever attacked, and if they got the both of us with one missile, chaos would reign.

A good VP needs an image; I plan on being the charismatic-when-he’s-not-sleeping vice president. Of course, that motto won’t work when I announce my candidacy for president of my homeowners association.

You see, now that I’ve tasted power I’m not content to play second string. So if, God forbid, nothing happens to the seated president, I plan to run in the next election. Look for my campaign signs, which will read:


Jeffrey Bergeron, under the alias of “Biff America,” can be seen on RSN television, heard on KOA radio, and read in several mountain publications. He lives in Breckenridge where he rests well.

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