I am not running for president of the United States next term. It will be the first time since 1994 that I have not announced as a write-in candidate for the highest job on the planet.
I did not arrive at this decision lightly. My reasons are deeply personal, which is why I'll write about them here before talk show noise holes decide it's their business.
It comes down to religion. I'm Mormon. With two other Mormons expected to join the race, that's plenty. More importantly, I don't want my faith (such as it is) to cloud the real issues.
For example, it's no secret that had I been elected last term, I would have traded Larry Erdmann to Mexico in exchange for crawdad-fishing rights along the Rio Grande.
Also, I would have made Sonny my secretary of defense, immediately after which Predator drones would have started hunting Oprah, and Delta force operatives would have cut Donald Trump's hair with a weed whacker.
Because of these campaign promises, the press would have been all over my faith, as illustrated by this wholly fabricated quote by Wolf Blitzer: "With Donald Trump's bleeding scalp nailed to the gate of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, America would have to ask itself, Diane, just how good of a Mormon is Robert Kirby?"
It wouldn't just be the media sticking its nose into my faith. In a culture steeped in public testimony-bearing to no end, Mormons are equally bothered by the question of commitment.
When Jon Huntsman Jr. got a little evasive about the extent of his Mormonism during an interview with Time magazine, some Mormons were a bit disappointed.
In a quote I'm drastically paraphrasing, a BYU political science student said, "I find it disingenuous that [Huntsman] didn't say anything about getting 100 percent of his home teaching done last month."
Why aren't people doing this to Mike Huckabee? The guy's an evangelical Christian, some of whom are clearly nuts, and nobody's picking at him about just exactly how inerrant he thinks the Bible is. A hundred percent? Two-thirds? A teaspoon?
I'm guessing it's because in virtually every other faith, it's accepted that there are varying degrees of commitment. Except, of course, in Mormonism, where you're either a "good" one or not one at all.
Has this ever mattered in the past? Quick! Name the religious affiliation (and corresponding level of commitment) of these former U.S. presidents: Hoover, Buchanan, Cleveland, Wilson and Roosevelt.
Answers: How in hell would I know? Look them up.
Does anyone with a real brain stand inside the Lincoln Memorial and wonder how much Sunday school Abe had under his belt? Did he believe in a god with arms and legs? Sprinkle baptism or full-dunk?
Had the "good Mormon" question been posed during my campaign last year, I would have instructed my press spokesman to issue the following statement: "Thank you for coming. Mr. Kirby went to church last week. Here's a picture. Beyond that, his level of commitment to his faith is none of your [flippin'] business. Thank you."
This sort of candid candidacy is why I'll never be president, or for that matter an apostle.
Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/notpatbagley.
Know an exciting destination? Tell Kirby where to go, he may show up
It's nearly summer, and Robert Kirby is ready to hit the road. He's not prepared to go just anywhere, though. Kirby needs your help. What's happening in Utah's hinterlands this summer that's worth a road trip? Kirby prefers town celebrations that involve blowing stuff up, but he's game for nearly anything. (Woodruff, Kirby already knows about your Black Gold Testicle Festival.) Share the lowdown by sending an email to rkirby@sltrib.com or visit facebook.com/notpatbagley.
