"They're just like the Kennedy's," proud Papa gloated, "but girls."

The candidate, Kasmira Trapp, 11, scurried about the room, taking paste from her youngest supporter Amelia, 3, and instructing her most ardent supporter, Alexandra, 6, that her posters could hang in the first- and second-grade rooms.

Papa analyzed the electorate (first- through sixth-grades), and explained that it would be very important for Kasmira to garner votes in the lower grades. Alexandra was delegated to inform all of her her little friends that her sister is a candidate for the proud post of HISTORIAN, and that they should vote for her.

Kasmira was slightly concerned that "all the popular girls" were also running for the post (Mama explained that this is because it "is the most fun and isn't much work").

"Don't worry about that," Papa counseled, "they may be so pissed off after running against each other in the primary that they'll all vote for you!"

"I'll vote for Kasmira no matter what!" Alexandra declared.

It was decided that posters should be made in the Orcas Island Elementary tradition, but the campaign suffered a near immediate setback when Kasmira determined that all of the suggestions being given to her were woefully inadequate.

Trusted advisor Mama resigned her position, Alexandra went to play with Blackberry (also known as "ya Big ole blackberry-haid" for short), and Amelia reconsidered eating the glue.

Papa, who has perhaps seen even darker moments in campaigns, knew just what to do. Popping open a Foster's and putting a Sly & the Family Stone album on the turntable he declared that *HE* would make the very first campaign poster to be submitted for the candidate's approval.

Papa then suffered a series of setbacks himself involving irregularly cut paper, markers without sufficient ink reserves, and watercolors mixed beyond anything white supremacists could fear for the national gene pool.

"Could be a two Foster's situation..." he muttered.

The first poster was approved by the candidate, and the postering process swung into full gear. National Geographics were cut up, scrawl scrawled, suns and waves drawn...

"We need to have at least fifty," Mama advised generously as she sat on the couch looking at catalogs. (she has since declared that she was "organizing her own personal files" and it may be true that I took some poetic license)

Papa was most proud of his offering depicting National Geographic photos of a 300-pound mermaid at some horror in Florida and a prehistoric bird, with the exhortation "These two may not vote but you should!" scrawled in his best crayon-scratch.

A near-scandal was averted when Papa advised Alexandra that although repeating a letter is very artistic, the slogan "Kasmira-KKK" might not send the message to voters that the candidate sought.

After being informed that her peace sign was upside down in another offering, Alexandra showed the poise that most candidates pay hundreds of dollars an hour for. "Who cares?" she decreed, and moved right along.

It was ultimately decided that Kasmira's and Papa's posters would be hung upstairs, where the fourth- through sixth-graders have an acute eye for sleek advertising and proper spelling, that Alexandra's would be hung in the first- to third-grade sector downstairs, and that Amelia's work would be exhibited around the house to ensure that Kasmira vote for herself and Alexandra fulfill her promise.

The reading of this report was met with protest from all quarters. Next Kasmira turns her attention to The Speech. Blackberry figures to figure prominently.

EPILOGUE: Although by all accounts Kasmira made a brilliant speech, touching on the new millennium, the importance of the yearbook, and her love of Blackberry the dog, she could place no better than second.

Nor is the Orcas Island Elementary School Historian, in the wake of the election, one of the popular girls.

A rather large young man in the 6th-grade gained the post, riding a wave of support for his speech which was, literally, "I ran for Historian in 4th-grade and lost. I ran for Historian in 5th-grade and lost. Now I'm in 6th-grade and I figure it's about time I won."

"Don't worry Kasmira," Alexandra said bitterly, but with no small amount of determination, "in two years you can say the same thing."

I don't like politics, I want to go home now