This might be the wrong time of year to say this, but I hate politics. It's not the politicians that bother me, it's when they make promises they can't — or won't — keep.
I remember when Barack Obama was running for president. He sided with the Armenians and pledged his support of a genocide bill in Congress. When April 24 rolled around and Armenians in this country waited for something to happen, he issued a lame statement without ever using the "genocide" word. We're still waiting.
As we gear up for municipal elections, I feel more generous in spirit.
Our city has a long and proud legacy regarding elected officials when you consider the likes of Brian Dempsey, who broke into politics as a teenager is still there, representing the city in the state House of Representatives.
It wouldn't surprise me if he made a career out of politics, much the same way his predecessors did before him — guys like Jake Rurak, Francis Bevilacqua and Frank Emilio — who all served Haverhill well at the Statehouse.
I recall once making a contribution to a neighbor who was running for state office. It was a harmless donation to be sure. It didn't mean I was backboning his campaign any, but when I saw my name among a list of supporters, I suspected a problem. I was right.
An editor called me on the carpet and said Gazette reporters are supposed to remain neutral in an election. They shouldn't endorse a candidate, much less post a bumper sticker or a campaign sign. He gave me a stern warning, but then let it go.
I was taken aback when, some years later, the paper began endorsing candidates. To me, it's a case of 'Do as I say and not as I do.'
Now, media endorsements have become commonplace and it takes a good winner to show no sour grapes after being snubbed. It's up to that elected official to prove the naysayers wrong by doing the best possible job over the term.
I had only one brush with politics. It was my freshman year at Boston University during the early 1960s and I decided to run for class treasurer. At the time, I was intent on majoring in accounting.
I was no politician to be sure, but decided to give it my best shot. It wasn't an ego thing; I just felt I could benefit my class in some way. As the campaign took on steam, my opponent turned nasty.
In an effort to be innovative, I went around the school passing out cards with a lucky penny on it. Generous as that was, my challenger poked fun.
Look at Vartabedian," he said. "He doesn't make much 'cents.' If you want a real class treasurer, put your money in my hands."
On Election Day, the campus cast its vote. As a last-ditch campaign ploy, my rival showed up with his picture on a dollar bill the size of a billboard, replacing Washington, and mine on a 1-cent piece the size of a half-dollar substituting Lincoln.
He got elected, lasted one semester before flunking out, and I wound up as treasurer after all.
I found out how much I didn't like accounting, switched career gears and enjoyed a lifetime in my chosen career. Guess that means I won.
Retired Gazette reporter and photographer Tom Vartabedian contributes this weekly column.
