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Charlie's Instant Fix-It Service

By HOWARD TROXLER
Published February 4, 2007

In my dream, Gov. Charlie Crist showed up at our front door.

"Need anything fixed?" he asked.

"Well, we have a couple of little things, but nothing to bother a governor with," I said.

"Not to worry!" the governor cried. "I'm looking for things to fix in my spare time!"

"Surely," I protested, "you should be working on the state's big problems. What about that insurance thing?"

"All fixed!" he chirped.

"Property taxes?"

"Fixed, just as soon as the Legislature meets again."

Crist peered over my shoulder and pointed. "You know, that picture is kind of crooked," he said.

"You can't tell me," I said, "that you don't have anything more important to do. You've only been in office a month."

"Well, I just fixed our election mess," he said. "All those people who said they wanted a paper trail? They got it."

"What about social issues?" I said. "We seem to be pretty messed up over that. What about, say, stem cell research?"

"Fixed, this past week."

"What about same-sex marriage, tolerance, end-of-life decisions, that sort of thing?"

Crist stood for a second and didn't say anything. He handed me a prewritten note that said: "My silence speaks for itself. Fixed."

I held up a hand for a minute, holding him off while trying to think. "Social services?" I offered timidly.

"Bob Butterworth in charge, to universal acclaim - fixed!" He looked impatient. "You got anything else?"

"Well," I said, "my own pet peeve has been the state Public Service Commission ..."

"Fixed, fixed, fixed!" he shouted in triumph. "I booted the last two guys, and put my own people on there!"

"Okay, then, education."

"Commissioner of education, outta here! And we're keeping the class-size amendment! Fixed!"

I noticed the truck parked in our driveway. The sign on the side said:

JEB'S BLUE-RIBBON STUDY COMMISSION Don't like it? Tough luck!

But that sign had been crossed out, and painted over with hand lettering saying, "Charlie's Instant Fix-It Service, No Waiting."

In the meantime Crist had sneaked past me. I followed him inside, just in time to see him taking apart our toaster. He told me he had gotten a letter from a man named Jerry with a broken toaster.

"As long as I'm governor, the people like Jerry will be entitled to good toast," he said. "This is for all the Jerrys out there."

"Aren't you going to put it back together?" I asked.

"The Legislature will do it when it meets," the governor replied confidently.

In the end, I let him have free rein around the house, tinkering with this and that. He shook my hand at the door.

"I am proud to be your governor," he said. "Always consider this to be YOUR house."

"This IS my house," I replied. He seemed confused for a second, but smiled and headed for the truck.

"Hey, wait a minute," I called after him. "I just thought of some more stuff. We need a better university system. We gotta fix this death-penalty thing. The Everglades are up in the air ..."

Crist rolled down the window and stuck his head out as he sped away. "Not to worry!" he yelled to me. "That's the second month!"

[Last modified February 4, 2007, 06:01:20]