The Parable of the Governor and the Gardener

One day while teaching, Josh was asked, ”Teacher, with the way a politician’s reputation can be so easily rejuvenated these days, can you tell me, are people’s memories that short, or is their power of forgiveness that strong, or are they just that politically stubborn?”

Josh spoke thus:

A governor was standing on the back porch of the gubernatorial mansion.  Just below the porch, a gardener was tending the gubernatorial roses.

“Politics are a lot like a garden,” the governor said to the gardener, “Gardens are controlled by cycles, and politics are cyclical.”

The gardener did not reply.

“I mean, think about it,” the governor said, “Every four years, we elect a new president.  The country runs on a four-year cycle: the election, a new presidency, a mature presidency, a lame-duck presidency, a new election.  Spring, summer, fall ... well the analogy isn’t perfect, but you get my point.”

The gardener neither agreed nor disagreed with the governor’s point.

“Not that I’m saying the president is going to be a lame duck,” the governor said, “But he has to run again, which takes up his last year.  Or he has a second term, and then he really is a lame duck.  So I’m not saying I’m running or anything.  I’m just saying it’s cyclical.”

The gardener pruned a rose stem.

“And senators, they have six-year cycles,” the governor said, “So how many seasons is that?  It’s kind of like the president is on a sun cycle, and senators are on a moon cycle.  And some senators are high tide, and some senators are low tide when the presidency comes around again.  But that’s not really a garden analogy anymore, is it?”

The gardener had no opinion on the applicability of lunar versus solar cycles in a gardening analogy.

“And congressmen, what would they be?  Months?  Two years is what, biennial?  Like a flower, right, there are biennials, right?  Perennials, which, thank the gods my job isn’t!  No wait, perennials are every year.  That would be me!  Ha, no, not really.  But annuals.  That’s it, right?  Annuals?  And biennials.  And what, quadrennials?  And sextennials, I guess?  Right up to cicadas, which come back every 18 years or something.  Man, what would a person have to do to be that Moses in the wilderness, I wonder?  You’d have to be impeached something raw, I bet.  What could get you thrown out of office that hard?”

“Being an immigrant?” the gardener asked.

The governor frowned.  “Is that some jab at that no-amnesty bill I just signed?” the governor asked, “Because that’s just politics.  Everyone just has to lay low, and everyone can come back, and no one will notice.”

“Just one more cycle,” the gardener said, cutting a rose off the rose bush and letting it fall to the ground.