In Which I Channel Margaret Thatcher

Chris Christie doesn’t think he’s too fat to be president.  I agree.  I don’t think he’s too fat to be president.  I would, however, pay much, MUCH more attention to his vice presidential pick than I would if he weighed 175 pounds less than he does.  If he’s over 50 and that weight he’s a heart attack risk.  Period.  We last had a president felled by a blocked artery in 1945; by one of the most happy turns of fortune in all of American history, we got Harry Truman instead of Henry Wallace.

Before that, in October, 1919 Woodrow Wilson was left a vegetable by a stroke and his wife (without public acknowledgement) took over.  It wasn’t pretty.

So I think that while Christie’s weight is certainly not a disqualifying factor, it’s highly relevant.  Win or lose a further benefit of his running would be to break the damned grip of the beauty contest movement.  We just elected a committed marxist to a second term, largely because an entire slice of the electorate got all dewy about how “sexy” he was; in fact it’s why they voted for him in 2008 as well (it sure as hell wasn’t on either his track record, his accomplishments, or his specific proposals).  We can’t afford to select our presidents on their looks any more.  Chris Christie won’t set anyone’s heart aflutter . . . and that’s a very, very good thing.  If I want a date I’ll go to the red-light district, not the polling booth.

But as far as all those roseate numbers showing him yards ahead of Corey Booker, his most likely challenger?  As Margaret Thatcher once said, “I refer you to my earlier comments.”