He's heavy, my brother

March 18, 2007
Tom Ferrick Jr.
Inquirer columnist

To: My Diary

From: John Street Recent Events

Re: Woe is me, Dear Diary, I am being besieged by problems of a familial nature. It began a few weeks ago, when I was sitting alone in my office in City Hall, playing Tetris on my Blackberry, when in bursts my aide de camp, Joe Grace.

He says: Mr. Mayor, I just found out that your brother, Milton, has decided to run for mayor. I reply: Of Moorestown? Not a bad idea. It would keep him busy.

Grace says: No, not mayor of Moorestown, N.J. Mayor of Philadelphia! I say: You mean Philadelphia, Pa.? You mean here? You mean this city? Grace says: Exactly. And the reporters are asking for a comment. They want to know what you think. I respond: What do I think? I think it's a terrible idea. If Milton runs he steals votes from Chaka. He aids and abets Dwight and Mr. Na Na Smarty Pants Nutter. If either of them become mayor, I will be out in the cold. This is a disaster!

Grace says: Great, should I tell the reporters that? I say: Gadzooks, no! Milton's a very spontaneous person. If I say that, it will make him more set on running. Say something noncommittal like: "It's really premature to discuss this." Meantime, we'll wait him out. This may pass. And so it is done.

The next week, I am sitting alone in my office, playing Mini-Golf II on my Blackberry, when Grace bursts in the door again. He yells: Mr. Mayor, Milton says he's going to hold a rally at City Hall and if 5,000 people show up he's going to run for mayor! What should we say? I reply: Nothing! Tell the reporters I will ignore the rally. I will be here, in my office, holding a Cabinet meeting. In the meantime, Joe, you go to City Hall Tower, observe the proceedings and report back immediately. And so it is done.

On the day of the rally, I am sitting alone in my office, playing Frogger on my Blackberry, when Grace bursts into the room. He says: Mr. Mayor, I've got some good news and some bad news. I say: Give me the good news first. Grace says: The good news is, only about 200 people showed up at the rally - and half of them were reporters. I say: And the bad news? Grace says: The bad news is,
Milton says he's still running for mayor. I ask: Why? What's he got against the other candidates? Grace says: Well, it's hard to tell, but he's told reporters Nutter isn't black enough. I ask: And what about Chaka and Dwight? Grace says: Well, he seems to think they are too black. I reply: And he's just right? Grace says: That seems to be the gist of it. I remark: What is this? The mayor's race or "Goldilocks and the Three Bears"?

Grace says: You've got to tell your brother to get out of the race, Mr. Mayor. I reply, sagely: No, that never works with Milton. Ever since he was a child, you tell him to do one thing, he does the other. My Momma knew that. She used reverse psychology. Cell him up, I want to talk to him. And so it is done.

I say: Hey brother, how are you doing? I hear you are running for mayor and I just want you to know I will support you 100 percent. Oh, really? Well, whatever you think is best. I get off the phone and Grace asks: What did he say? I reply: He told me he didn't want my public support because it may hurt his chances. I have planted the seed. Now, we must wait while he cogitates.

Another week passes. I am sitting alone in my office, playing Combat Thumb on my Blackberry, when Grace bursts in the door again. Grace says: Mr. Mayor, your reverse psychology worked. Milton announced today that he is not running for mayor . . . . I say: See, I told you he would . . . . Grace interrupts: He is running for City Council at large! I leap from my chair and cry: He can't do that! Sharif is running for Council at large! One Street too many will create a disturbance in the field.

My cell twerps. It is Sharif. I say: Hello, son. Yes, I just heard. Well, you can't do that. He's your uncle and it's illegal. No, don't blast him in the media, either. Tell them something noncommittal, like: "I'm still gathering my thoughts." Grace says: What are we going to do about this, Mr. Mayor? I reply: I'm still gathering my thoughts, but Milton has given me an idea. Grace asks: What's that? I reply: Maybe I should run for mayor of Moorestown.