The time has come to adress a serious inequity in our society today. Yes, I'm talking about the complete lack of representation in public government for the squirrels among us. Though no hard data exists to document the size of the squirrel population, it is estimated that the total number of individuals comprising this segment of our society exceeds one billion. And yet they have no representation at any level of government. I ask you, how is that fair? I am here today to argue in favor of allowing squirrels to run for public office.

One could make the argument that the sheer size of the squirrel population entitles them to representation. But leaving that aside for a moment, squirrels possess a number of other qualities that make them well-suited for public service. Let me expand upon a few of the most admirable of those qualities:

1. Squirrels are accomplished fence straddlers. Think about it. How many times have you watched a squirrel zip across the top of your backyard fence? And do those squirrels really care which side of the fence they come down on? No. As long as they can find food or something else that serves their self-interest, squirrels will jump down on whichever side of the fence gives them the biggest reward.

2. Squirrels are by nature adulterous and they don't hide their behavior. If you elect a squirrel, you can expect complete transparency when it comes to immorality. No more wondering whether your elected representative is concealing some type of lewd and distasteful behavior. You know your squirrel will cheat and mess around so it can focus on the job at hand instead of being distracted by all that morality stuff.

3. Squirrels are proficient thieves. Anyone who has attempted to keep squirrels out of the bird feeders knows that a squirrel worth its salt will find a way to steal the seed. Since the ability to steal effectively is a highly prized trait in our public servants today why not elect those who have the expertise. Squirrels are unparalleled here.

4. Squirrels are exceptionally good at posturing. Take a look around you and you will immediately see what I mean. They puff themselves up to look fierce. The twitch their tails emphatically. They chatter and yammer and throw acorns around. But when things get rough, self-preservation kicks in and they disappear in a flash. They will fit perfectly into any legislative body to which they are elected.

5. Don't be put off by the squirrel's small brain size. Squirrels are canny and shrewd. And though I'm not aware of any scientific study to verify this opinion, it's my belief that the size of a squirrel's brain more than meets the minimum required for other public office holders in our government today.

So let's give the squirrels their due. We should allow the squirrels among us to run for public office. Support your local squirrel is what I say! What do you think?

Warning: There can be limits to free speech and repercussions as well.

My family and I recently moved from the busy Seattle suburbs out into a quieter, more rural part of the state. The air is clean, the farmland verdant, the trees large and mossy. Nature revels itself in every corner; sometimes with pleasant surprises (a cluster of wildflowers) and sometimes though an uncanny overabundance of spiders which, while keeping the mosquitoes at bay can nevertheless prove disconcerting to a "city girl".

I have settled amacably into this snug new life, pleased at the opportunity to own land. Used to my own habits, and happy to be free of apartment living, I wander outside inspecting the 1/3 acre that to a native of NJ is a sprawling wonderland.

With my hair tied back in a loose pony tail, dressed mainly for comfort, I break out my cell phone and a small garden shovel and plop myself down at the edge of my driveway to begin my battle with the encroaching weeds that have begun to lay claim to to the gravel. The cell phone provides my distraction. I set my b-berry on speaker and dial my parents. The call will be pleasant and last approximately 2 hours. More than enough time to wage my war on the forces of vegetative chaos.

Lost in a good conversation and the montony of pulling up each weed one by one (and uncerimously tossing them into one of the 10 gardens conveniently left by the previous homeowners) I do not notice as an elderly woman slowly approaches me.

I hear a quiet cough... "um... are you okay?"

I lift my head and shield my eyes from the sun as I gaze up at a tiny woman of about 85 years, carrying a disproportionately large broom. It is probably a foot higher than she is; she clutches it like a weapon.

"Hi, good to meet you" I say wondering why she's on my property. Perhaps she's the welcoming committee.

"What are you... doing" she asks. It suddenly occurs to me how I must look- in my sweats and tennies on my knees wrestling with dandylions and a bevy of strange northwestern plants I don't recognize. Sweat on my forehead, talking to some unknown source (the cell phone lies next to me several inches away). My parents hear me talking and offer their regards to the myserious figure. She doesn't hear them.

"Ah... I'm fighting back the tide of nature in my driveway- and talking to my parents on speaker phone" I quickly add, holding up my blackberry as evidence. I'm half inclined to blush but think better of it. I instead grin at the sense of entitlement to be silly on my own property. Then it occurs to me that she's in my front yard and must have specifically stopped what she was doing to check on my mental well being. "Thank you so much for checking on me, I'm so glad to meet you".

The woman still looks a bit confused, and perhaps a bit disappointed that I am not quite as unhinged as she had expected. I smile once more and point to her broom... "and what are you doing, out of curiosity?" The question is tinged with friendly curiosity.

"Me?" She asks. "Why, I'm chasing the squirrels out of your yard". I can hear the "pop" sound of her husband's .22 as he takes out any remaining rodents within firing range of his property.

I nod and wave as she wanders away. And I know at the moment that we will live happily and harmoniously for many years to come.

(I posted a portion of this last week to get people started on writing a fairy tale together.
This is the version of it I wrote.)
There was once a boy named Squirrel. He wanted to be like his friends who had normal names like Malcolm, Martin and Jose.

Squirrel decided to travel to the castle of the Prince of Names.

He would walk, skip and jump for fun during flat parts of his journey but
he really liked it when he got to climb some hills. And he even had to
swim across a river at one point but that was fine because he was hot and
sweaty and needed a bath soon anyway.

He stopped when it got dark but became scared because he heard noises he
had never heard before - sounds like "ribbet" and "hoo!" and other howling
noises - and he had trouble falling sleep.
When he woke up, there was something staring at him.

"Who are you?" Squirrel asked.

"I'm Frank," the thing said.

"And what are you, Frank?" Squirrel asked.

"I'm a squirrel," came the reply.

"Well, I'm a human," Squirrel said. "My name is Squirrel. Or at least it is
right now. I hope to change it."

And then he heard a sound so unusual he wondered if any human had ever
heard it before: It was the sound of a squirrel laughing.

"You're a human named Squirrel," the voice said. "And I am a squirrel
named Frank."

"And?"

"And I don't like my name and I bet you don't like your name," the squirrel
said.

"That's true," the boy said. "That's why I am going to visit the Prince of
Names."

"Mind if I join you?" Frank the squirrel asked.

"Not at all," Squirrel the boy said. "Let's shake on it," and the hand and
paw shook and the boy was even given some of the nuts the squirrel had
gathered to eat.

They eventually got to the scene of a noisy road and the boy explained that he
saw a photo once that explained this. It was called a freeway and those
were cars, he told the squirrel, pointing at the objects that moved even
faster than paper boats in a river.

They did not know how to cross the road with all those fast moving
vehicles blocking their paths.

The boy came up with a plan: They would use some red berries they
carried with them from the woods and write a message on the boy's white
T-shirt.

Eventually the boy took off his shirt, wrote the message - "Help us get to the Prince of Names castle" - and waved it at passing cars. Soon an older man in a blue Buick stopped and let them in.

They explained their dilemma and the driver agreed to help. But as they
drove the man kept trying to get them to join him in singing some song
about bottles of beer on the wall.

Soon they stopped at a rest stop. There was a man there
who was selling items out of the back of his van. The
man had one scooter and one bicycle.

They explained their mission but that they needed
transportation but only had 48 cents and some berries
and nuts as payment.

For some strange reason the man kept asking if they
were cops or if there was a hidden camera.

Finally he agreed to give them the scooter and bike
for 48 cents, three berries and a walnut.

The squirrel rode the scooter while the boy rode the
bike.

They eventually arrived at the castle and explained to guards that they had
to see the man in charge of the names.

"The only way we can allow you to go inside is if you can make us laugh,"
said one guard, who looked like he had never laughed in his
long life. The other guard just nodded.

The squirrel told some dirty jokes he once heard but the only expression it
caused was a frown when some bad words were pronounced wrong.

The boy shouted out words - "Booger! Fart!" - but still received no
reaction.

After about 10 minutes, the guards grew tired of this game and asked their
names. Well, that did it. They laughed at them and their names for what
seemed an hour.

They were then shown the way to a room filled with an incredibly huge
computer and a little old man sitting in front of it. "Is he working?" the boy
asked.

"No, he is instant messaging the Prince of Numbers," a guard explained.

When the man finally quit he asked them to state their names.

When the boy said his name was Squirrel and that was why he was there,
the man shouted, "No! No! That can't be. Your parents must have been in
error."
Turning, the prince said. "Well, surely your name is Squirrel, squirrel."

"Nope, the name is Frank," the squirrel said. "Is your name Squirrel too?"

The man's face turned red as he shouted, "I am not a squirrel! You are the
squirrel! I have a normal name. You know, like, Henry or Gus....."

"Like Frank?" the squirrel suggested.

"Yes," said the defeated old man who was now looking older.

The man checked his computer and found that indeed there had been an
error and he let them just switch their names. To make up for his mistake he promised to send both of them computers.

He also agreed to squirrel's suggestion to consider developing different names for each squirrel .

The next day - after resting - they left the castle, but not without promising that they would send instant messages to the Prince of Names because sometimes he got lonely.