In 2019, I decided I just couldn’t take it anymore — the partisan bickering, the Twitter mob along with its jury and executioners, and just the general ugliness being spewed on a daily basis — it was just too much to bear. With impeachment of the president looming and hints of a “civil war” breaking out, I didn’t want to see that happen to my country, so I finally did what I had been threatening to do. I moved into a cave.
It was a very nice cave — I mean aside from the dirt and dampness, and those freaking stalactites I kept hitting my head on. Those things don’t play!
I won’t get into how all of this was possible, but you can trust me, this is all true. My woman cave was way nicer than Cheryl’s she-shed. It had water and power and a theater where I could watch endless amounts of Netflix (Hello, “Matlock”! You sexy thing!) and Amazon Prime, but no cable news or social media. There was a massive library, a gym and a kitchen with freezers full of delicious food. It had everything I needed.
But it’s been 10 years and it is time to emerge from my refuge of swank dankness. The year should be 2029 by my calculations, so things certainly should be back to normal, right?
All of the politicos who were fighting should be long gone, the “civil war” should be over and certainly social media has self-destructed and people have just gone back to having “real friends,” who they talk to in “real life.” That would be so crazy! It should be like the Garden of Eden up there now. Or least the 1990s. Either would be great!
As I climbed up the escape hatch, I was excited. It would be nice to see humans again! My pet earthworms were cool to talk to but they never offered much feedback. Plus, I’m pretty sure the longer one named Eddie was turning on me. But I have a bit of a paranoid personality, so maybe he was just constipated.
I made it out, and my first stop was Government Plaza to see what was going on in my beloved Mobile!
I made my way up to the 10th floor of GP where the mayor’s office still sat.
Some things never change, but obviously some do, as I was soon about to find out.
“The mayor will see you now,” the robotic secretary said as she opened the door.
“Well, hello, Ashley. Welcome back to the top of the Earth’s surface, or as it is technically called, the crust,” the mayor said with a smile.
“Alan Sealls, you are mayor of Mobile now? Wow!” I said excitedly.
“Yes! Once local television stations started replacing weathermen with holograms, and I licensed my hologram to the 50 top markets for a pretty penny, I still wanted to do something with my time, and I have always loved Mobile, so it was an easy decision,” Mayor Sealls said.
“Well, you were certainly always very popular, so I am sure you won in a landslide,” I said.
“Meteorologically speaking, a landslide is the sliding down of a mass of earth or rock from a mountain or cliff. Let’s just say we slid right over the mountain of competition,” he said, laughing.
“My TV ads with all of the rusting, high-speed ferries that no one ever used and, of course, footage of the one that tragically sank out in the bay with four cars on it, along with my campaign slogan, ‘The Forecast for Mobile is Bright and Sunny,’ well, it just seemed to resonate with the voters.”
“I bet,” I said. “I can’t believe they went ahead with the ferries. So whatever happened with the Civic Center?”
“Oh you mean, the Airbus Arena? It’s as beautiful as a cumulonimbus dancing across a bright blue Mobile sky! Everyone loves it. We get great shows all the time now, the Mardi Gras folks are happy and it doesn’t cost a fortune to maintain,” Mayor Sealls said.
“So Cordish ended up playing ball and doing it like we all wanted?” I asked.
“You can ask former Mayor Stimpson about all that. He and Jean are sailing around the world right now though, finally enjoying retirement. Now that no one dies or ages anymore we all have time to cross everything off of our bucket lists.”
“Wait, what? No one dies or ages anymore? How?” I asked.
“Well once the war ended with the signing of ‘The Great New Deal of 2021,’ and lobbying was eliminated, term limits were installed and lawmakers were once again able to work together to actually get things done, including addressing healthcare and prescription drug prices in a huge and effective bipartisan way, Big Pharma got nervous. So they quickly found cures for all major diseases. They now make money off of pills that keep us happy and from aging or from wrinkling or from our hair ever falling out or from us ever gaining a pound over our goal weight.”
“Well, that’s great news. I want some of those fat pills!”
“Everyone does! Everyone’s so happy now no one ever even says mean things on social media anymore. Compliments are the only things that ever go viral,” Mayor Sealls explained.
“That seems wonderful but totally unbelievable,” I said.
“I know, but it’s true. I think after the war, people were just ready for a change,” Mayor Sealls said.
I didn’t know much about the war yet. I feared the worst. I wasn’t even sure if I still had any family left. But I reluctantly asked.
“So tell me about it. Were many lives lost?” I asked.
“Oh no,” Mayor Sealls said. “Don’t be silly. It was fought entirely on Twitter until everyone was just metaphorically dead to each other. Everyone was just finally sick of it though and sick of hating each other over politics and other stupid things, Twitter went under and was replaced with Tweeter. It’s Twitter but sweeter, as they like to say.”
“Well, this all makes me very hopeful for our country,” I said. “But back to the city, so I take it the lawsuit between Mayor Stimpson and the City Council was ultimately resolved and that’s all worked out now?”
“Oh no,” Sealls said, with a chuckle. “Due to the anti-aging pills, we still have the same council. Unlike Congress, there are no term limits for local government … yet! It has cost us $10 million in legal fees to date, and we are still operating under the FY 2019 budget. But acting council president Manzie and I try to still get the job done. And we do!”
“They still haven’t elected a council president? You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“Oh no, some things even happy pills can’t fix,” Mayor Sealls said. “I hate to cut this short, but I have to go throw out the first pitch at the brand new, downtown baseball stadium.”
“Oh, so we got Double-A baseball back?” I asked, surprised.
“Oh no, this is Major League. We stole the Braves from Atlanta. We’re big time now. The extended forecast for Mobile remains bright and sunny,” Mayor Sealls said with a wink.
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