The Mayor

His Honor, James A. Garfield McCann


     Buzz and Marsha were at breakfast Saturday morning in the Lafayette dining room when Buzz spotted a courtly pink-faced man with an impeccably groomed mane of wavy white hair standing in the doorway looking for a table. The man grinned when he recognized Buzz and came forward, despite his robust frame, with the bouncing step of an old basketball player as Buzz beckoned for him to join them.
     “Marsha, this is James A. Garfield McCann, the mayor of our fair city — and a lifelong Democrat despite his Republican name.”
     “There were eight of us.” explained the mayor as he eased himself into a chair, being careful not to wrinkle the trousers of his expensive, well-tailored summerweight suit.
     He spoke with the hint of a brogue. “My father and mother were so proud to be in America that they named every one of us after a president. And when they got down to me, Garfield was the only name left that they could think of. They didn’t realize till years later that old Jimmy Garfield was in the wrong party.”
     “And this, Mister Mayor, is Marsha Antonelli, one of my competitors from Worcester County.”
     “I didn’t know Worcester County had such fetching women, I’ll have to get over there more often.”
     “This man,” said Buzz to Marsha, “is a folk hero back home. He’s the one who after half a century of other people trying became the first Irishman to wrest the mayor’s office away from the Yankee Republicans.”
     “The Yankee and the French-Canadian Republicans. Remember, there were a couple of them, too.” The mayor turned to Marsha. “Is that the way it is in your part of Worcester County? They came down from Canada to work in the mills and pretty soon they were just as Republican as the old Yankees. We Irish were never like that.”
     Before Marsha could answer, Buzz picked up again. He knew the mayor had a weakness for flattery. “Since that first time — what was it, Mayor, sixteen years ago?”
     “Seventeen.”
     “Since that first time, all Big Jim has to do to get reelected is to put his name on the ballot.” It might be flattery, but it wasn’t far from the truth.
     “If it were only that easy,” sighed Big Jim.
     “Don’t be modest, Mister Mayor. You’ll get reelected just as long as you want to keep running, and you know it.”