You know the universe is messing with you when the opening act for this year's Pro Football Hall of Fame Festival's "Concert for Legends" could invariably become the next junior senator from Michigan.

Rumors abound that Robert "Kid Rock" Ritchie might remove his hat (for once) and toss it into the ring as a candidate for U.S. Senate.

No one knows for certain what Kid Rock believes about what should be done to shore up democracy in Venezuela, or how to solve Syria, or how long we should stay in Afghanistan, or what to do about North Korea's latest belligerence. Apparently, it does not matter to Michiganders, who are ready to make him a senator simply because he is famous. 

Some fans say he's just what a hidebound Senate needs. Maybe so, but Ritchie isn't some working stiff from a trailer park on 8 Mile Road. He grew up on an estate, heir to a car dealership fortune. 

He's more "Richie Rich" than "Kid Rock" Ritchey.

In it to win it

We have this presumption about famous people in which we assume they're capable, based on nothing more than their fame. It's how Arnold Schwarzenegger became governor of California. Some folks were ready to change the Constitution to enable Schwarzenegger to run for president until sex scandals derailed the train.

Fame shouldn't be held against anyone wishing to serve their country, but nor should celebrities be held to a lesser standard. Like any candidate, they should have knowledge of those things that matter.

They ought to have a grasp of history, economics and public policy.

They ought to be able to name books read.

They should know why diplomacy and compromise are necessary tools of governing.

Politics is such that if you don't put the work in and if you're in it just to win it, sooner or later, everyone knows it. In 1999, frustrated Minnesotans elected Jesse Ventura as governor, because he was a former Navy SEAL, but more importantly, a professional wrestler. Ventura lowered taxes, supported unions and supported public transportation but his first and only term struck an iceberg when the economy did, and the ensuing criticism finished it.

American Churchill

Minnesotans also elected Sen. Al Franken, a former writer and cast member on "Saturday Night Live." Franken happens to be a cum laude government major from Harvard, but it would be disingenuous to pretend that being "Al Franken" didn't help.

Right now, we're in the throes of a national temper tantrum, pretending that this country wasn't founded by educated elitists. We've fallen for the illusion that deeply complex problems are easily solvable with tough talk from people who have no clue how anything works.

Perhaps Ritchie has emerged because of his support of a president whose base has been unshakable, and because the Midwest still isn't hitting on all cylinders. Disaffected voters in Michigan see that four of the eight candidates running for mayor of Detroit are former felons, and entrenched disasters like Flint, and the veteran politicians who should have been able to fix it, and they wonder how much worse it could be with a completely inexperienced neophyte?


In the case of Kid Rock, who knows? Perhaps beneath all the rock 'n' roll raunchiness lurks an American Churchill. Maybe he's ready to stop being a rock star to become Robert Ritchie, policy wonk. If not, let's hope he can resist the flattery, because although politics is practiced in an arena, it isn't a show. People's lives are at stake.

Reach Charita at 330-580-8313 or charita.goshay@cantonrep.com

On Twitter: @cgoshayREP