Tuesday, August 26, marked the first public debate of Shreveport’s mayoral race, taking place at Southwood High School; featuring candidates Anna Marie Arpino, Sam Jenkins, Victoria Provenza, Ollie Tyler, and Rep. Patrick Williams. Two other candidates, James Crowley and Melvin Slack, missed the deadline to participate, but were also in attendance. This being the first debate, candidates were eager to posture and wax poetic about their professional accomplishments, attempting to outshine one another in a packed auditorium. The public assembly left many unchanged in their choice of candidate, but it did inspire one Shreveport citizen to jump into the ring and bring some much needed diversity to the professions, skills, and passions demonstrated that evening.

I met Hamilton Crane at a discussion group following the debate, located just down the street at Hanny’s Sports Bar. Mr. Crane led the discussion with a tone of both frustration and contempt. “Let’s just start things off by addressing the elephant in the room,” he paused for a long slurp from his drink, “Do any of these people really represent the majority of us living in Shreveport?” He elaborated, “I looked across that stage and saw business professionals, suited up puppets who want to see Shreveport jolted with economic progress, infrastructure. They want to try to turn us into something other than what we are.” The crowd of seven nodded in agreement, each one of them paying more attention to the video poker machines than the outline of the new political mantra that was about to be proclaimed.

I sat down with Mr. Crane directly after this private address. He outlined his political strategy as threefold: First, he would hammer home his credentials as a true Shreveport native. “Unlike some of my adversaries, I have lived in Shreveport my entire life. Furthermore, I’ve lived in the same house my entire life!” he joked. Crane attended Southwood High School, playing for their football team, before beginning his employment at the nearby Thrifty Liquor upon graduation. “I was the first person in Shreveport to put the tape on half of the daiquiri straw-hole,” he proudly recalled, “our location was the most popular in town due to this brilliant marketing tactic!” Indeed, this hometown hero’s knack for discovering unique strategies to come up with innovative solutions for pressing problems may be the trait that was lacking from Tuesday’s dismal panel. This strategy would represent Crane’s campaign goal of him being a man of the people – he knows what our citizens want and works tirelessly to make it a reality.

After achieving a managerial position at Thrifty, Crane branched out to work at one of the new casinos that had just opened up along the Red River. This experience was transformational for him, and brought about his second revolutionary idea that will propel him to become a front-running mayoral candidate. “I was working the tables every night, seven days a week,” said Crane, “I started having a few regulars come play at my table and we developed a rapport.” Soon Crane began mastering the art of the “false shuffle,” providing winning hands to his new friends. Later on, in the parking garage, Crane would receive his cut of the bounty.

“This went on for a few months,” confessed Crane, “I used the money to purchase access to the Petroleum Club.” From there the world was his oyster. “I take this life lesson as my second tenet for the political campaign,” Crane said, “Ruthlessness. If Shreveport wants to become the ‘Next Great City of the South,’ hell even the ‘second greatest,’ you have to use every play in the book.”

Indeed, Hamilton Crane’s dedication to mastering his craft and networking with the city’s movers and shakers is a notable asset to his case for mayorship.

The final tentpole in what is sure to be a storied career as mayor, is simple. “We have to kill all of the birds in the city,” said Crane in an unwavering tone. “This city is receiving incredible sums of money for planning grants, strategic plans, associations, and for experts in other cities to scratch their heads about why this city is so aesthetically unappealing,” states Crane, “I’ll tell you why. It’s bird shit.”

With Hamilton Crane’s words echoing in my ears, I took a tour of the city that evening. He’s right. Every square inch of sidewalk downtown, every awning and telephone line, and, believe it or not, the floor to ceiling of every abandoned building downtown – filled with bird excrement.

At first I had no idea what to think of Hamilton Crane. He doesn’t have a degree, he’s never had a career trajectory, and he’s never been to Bossier City. After rereading my notes from the mayoral debate, I have come to a conclusion. I want Hamilton Crane as mayor. He brings a fierce dedication to his community, creative brilliance for our most complex problems, bought and paid-for ties to the “old Shreveport” families, and a sensible approach to our downtown blight. You can keep your dolled up candidates, regurgitating pageant-perfect responses to quaint questions. I want Hamilton Crane, someone who will actually roll up his sleeves and start killing those damn pigeons.

Read more on Candidate Crane here.

*This is 100 percent satire.