“And why not?” asked Fletcher.
“Because it’s a statistical fact that whoever gets elected to the college council in his first year, is almost certain to end up as president three years later.”
“Perhaps I don’t want to be president of the college council,” said Fletcher with a grin.
“Perhaps Marilyn Monroe didn’t want to win an Oscar,” said Jimmy, as he produced a booklet from his briefcase.
“What’s that?”
“The freshman yearbook—there’s 1,021 of them.”
“I see you’ve once again begun the campaign without consulting the candidate.”
“I had to, because I can’t afford to hang around waiting for you to make up your mind. I’ve done some research and discovered that you have little or no chance of even being considered for the college council unless you speak in the freshman’s debate in the sixth week.”
“Why’s that?” asked Fletcher.
“Because it’s the only occasion when all the frosh come together in one room and are given the chance to listen to any prospective candidate.”
“So how do you get selected as a speaker?”
“Depends which side of the motion you want to support.”
“So what’s the motion?”
“I’m glad to see you’re finally warming to the challenge, because that’s our next problem.” Jimmy removed a leaflet from an inside pocket. “Resolved: America should withdraw from the Vietnam War.”
“I don’t see any problem with that,” said Fletcher, “I’d be quite happy to oppose such a motion.”
“That’s the problem,” said Jimmy, “because anyone who opposes is history, even if they look like Kennedy and speak like Churchill.”
“But if I present a good case, they might feel I was the right person to represent them on the council.”
“However persuasive you are, Fletcher, it would still be suicide, because almost everyone on campus is against the war. So why not leave that to some madman who never wanted to be elected in the first place?”
“That sounds like me,” said Fletcher, “and in any case, perhaps I believe…”
“I don’t care what you believe,” interrupted Jimmy. “My only interest is getting you elected.”
“Jimmy, do you have any morals at all?”
“How could I?” Jimmy replied. “My father’s a politician and my mother sells real estate.”
“Despite your pragmatism, I still couldn’t get myself to speak in favor of such a motion.”
“Then you’re doomed to a life of endless study and holding hands with my sister.”
“Sounds pretty good to me,” said Fletcher, “especially as you seem quite incapable of having a serious relationship with any woman for more than twenty-four hours.”
“That isn’t Joanna Palmer’s opinion,” said Jimmy.
Fletcher laughed, “And what about your other friend, Audrey Hepburn? I haven’t seen her on campus lately.”
“Neither have I,” said Jimmy, “but it will only be a matter of time before I capture Miss Palmer’s heart.”
“In your dreams, Jimmy.”
“You will in time, apologize, O ye of little faith, and I predict that it will be before your disastrous contribution to the freshman debate.”