The Old Broke Rancher Will Advertise Your Candidate For an RV

First of all, I just want to start by saying that my Mama always said not to talk about politics. Not just with strangers, or at the supper table, but pretty much ever. It's just not polite, she felt. Most people say no talking politics or religion, but she was fine with talking religion. She did that all day.

"Politics is religion for Godless folks," she said.

So I'm not talking about politics. Maybe I have some opinions on how things should be done, sure. But I will keep them close to the vest, like the proverbial playing cards. You gotta know when to hold 'em.

Consequently, I like to think I get along with almost everybody, no matter what side they're on. Nobody could possibly be offended by someone as dumb as me.

So I'm not going to talk politics today. Whatever side you want me to be on, I'm right there with you. Unless you want to be on the other side, in which case I'm over there, shaking my fist at you and giving you the evil eye. Whatever.

That having been said, however, I'm a single-issue voter. And that issue is that I want a brand new RV.

Now, I can't help but notice that neither of the prevalent American political parties, however substantive their policies, has "giving Gary Shelton a brand new RV" as one of the pillars of their platform.

I would vote for almost any candidate, however odious, if they would only just gift me a brand new, tricked-out RV absolutely tax-free.

Come to think of it, I have a second issue as well - I want the damned government to admit it knows all about UFOs and Bigfoot: that it knows they're there, have studied them, maybe even made deals with them. But the only way I can prove it is by getting a brand new RV, as jam-packed with luxury options as possible, so I can find their hairy and/or grey little butts.

I digress.

If neither party has my interests, i.e. free RV, at heart than what I am to do?

Well, it occurred to me last night while trying to watch a few moments of actual television sandwiched between long, obnoxious, apparently endless political ads... I need to get some of this political advertising money for myself.

I read, for instance, that $44 million dollars have been spent by PACs on election ads in Montana this year. Now, I'm not sure what a PAC is, but I assume it is somehow related to PAC-MAN, the beloved yellow pie with the insatiable hunger for ghosts, dots, and fruit. Back when I was a young buck, I was pretty good at PAC-MAN, even got a high score on an arcade cabinet at a bar in Bozeman, thirty or so years ago. What I'm saying is, I think I understand the intricacies of campaign finance.

For instance, I've looked and I think that I could settle for an RV that costs, oh, let's say $1.25 million. If both parties spent $44 million on Youtube ads everyone skips and TV ads everyone mutes, then (after consulting the calculator on my phone) if my math is correct, they could have bought about 35 really nice RVs with leather seats and full kitchens, maybe even a hot tub instead.

Then, I figure, they could give me one. And guess what, I'm not greedy, they can give one to you, too.

As no one is clamoring to do so, the time has come for practical action.

So here is my plan to get some of that lucrative PAC-MAN money... I am going to offer my cattle as advertising space. I can't make any money off the damn things anyway.

So for $1000, I'm willing to personally go into my field and spray paint "Vote Sheehy" on one of my moo cows. Then, I figure, I will turn around and offer the other side to Tester for the same amount. Or vice versa.

Alternatively, I am willing to offer an exclusivity clause, meaning that you can rent both sides of the cow, for $2500.

But that's not all. I think that my meager ranch offers a lot of unrealized potential ad revenue. For instance, my house has roughly four sides. At $25,000 a side, I can advertise your preferred candidate for office in 360 degrees.

For $42,000, I will mow the patch of agonized brown grass in the front of the house, which I laughingly refer to as "the yard," into the shape of your candidate as rendered in my best "stick figure and smiley face" style. For another $18,000, I'll do the same with my back hair, visible once a week to the other seniors at the swim center.

Let's see, what else. For $50,000, I will constantly, and at the top of my voice, holler whatever campaign catchphrase you'd like while shopping at the grocery and hardware store. Try to mute that!

For $70,000 I will call everyone I know and tell them to vote your way. This is no mere trifle; I know over 21 people.

A tattoo on my forehead will cost you a cool quarter mil'.

Now, if PAC-MAN and MRS PAC-MAN choose even a few of those options, I'm in RV territory.

But there is one line I'm not willing to cross. I will not, under any circumstances, allow any form of political ad on the side of my brand new, tricked-out, ultra-lux RV equipped with reclining leather seats, surround sound, spa, and fold-out patio. Never.

Why?

It'd scare away the aliens and Bigfoots.