The press conference Kamala should give

A press conference I wish Kamala Harris would give 

Good morning.

I called this rare press conference in order to address an important issue to all of us, and when I say all of us, I mean me.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. 

You haven’t heard that laugh for a while, have you? That’s intentional.

Sounds like I fell out of a coconut tree, as my mother used to say.

Did I mention I grew up middle class? Yes? Good.

Today is my 60th birthday — campaign donations instead of cake, please — and the purpose of this nyabingi  (that’s Jamaican for gathering) is to make things clear. I love making things clear, and clear is clearly good. Clear? I will set the record straight on my positions, which some have said spin around like a weathervane in a hurricane. 

I realize I can’t expect a lot of people to support me if they don’t know my positions, and my core values.

My core values are equal opportunity for all, but not equal outcomes. Also love of country. Yes, to paraphrase Barack Obama, where else could the daughters of two immigrants have enjoyed a middle-class — did I mention that? — life, the opportunity to excel in our occupations, and to date celebrities? God bless America! 

My core values are like an umbrella shaft, but the canopy — boy, there’s the problem. Oh! I said “boy!” Of course, I meant person.

Harris is my father’s name. Can you imagine what might have become of me if I used my mother’s name, Gopalan?

Anyway — and I am getting to the point, so don’t go all Bret Baier on me — I was born in Oakland, which is even crazier than San Francisco, right across the Bay. Our home had a middle-class lawn.

Being a woman of color, whom Joe Biden wouldn’t bus, had an impact on me, as well as the Oakland social and political culture in which I was raised.

Really, that’s all I knew until the age of 12, when Mom got a job in Montreal, where I spent my teenage years. And you know how socialistic those Canadians are, right?

Then I went to Howard University, which is called the “Black Harvard.” That’s in D.C., another crazy environment.

If you were raised in my environment, you, too, might have wanted to ban fracking, decriminalize border crossings, mandate electric vehicles, eliminate private insurance through Medicare for all, offer free medical care for illegals, confiscate “assault rifles,”  pay for gender reassignment surgery for U.S. criminals and illegals under detention, defund police, dismember ICE, and, well, the list goes on.

Wow! If I were any farther Left, I’d be Cornel West.

Those ideas, yes, amount to “San Francisco values,” and they were OK when I was the San Francisco D.A., and then the California attorney general. Those cockamamie ideas actually got me into the U.S. Senate.

But then — former racist Joe Biden selected me as his choice for vice president, and suddenly the white patriarchy doesn’t seem so bad. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

As vice president, I had an epiphany. It was like a thunderclap. I was no longer representing just the sprouts, granola and nuts West Coast crowd, I was suddenly representing the whole of America, including blood red Oklahoma and Mormon Utah and rebel South Carolina.

As a public servant (that’s what elected officials like to call ourselves), I concluded I would have to move closer to the rest of America in order to be an effective servant (and also maybe to get elected.)

Just as I learned Biden is not a racist (I never really thought he was), I learned that the moderate positions held by most Americans actually make sense.

Outside of California, of course.

Like you, my ideas were formed when I was in my teens. Like you, I did a lot of silly things.

I am now 60, and have re-evaluated them, as many of you have done.

So I am asking you to believe me.

As Ronald Reagan liked to say, “Trust, but verify.”

To verify, you have to elect me.

What have you got to lose?

Oops. That’s what the other guy says.

Let’s go with hope — that I won’t change.