I am woman. I am smart. That makes me uber-F***ed.

So. Last night, The Coach and I went down to the local University to see two minor political pundits — one liberal, one conservative — face off about the presidential election. It wasn’t one of those contentious situations, like the old school program “Crossfire” before it went belly up. There was no shouting or screaming. In fact, they didn’t really seem to debate each other at all. They were polite. They answered a *few* questions from the crowd. They didn’t bicker.

But readers, they annoyed the hell out of me.

What is it with WASP males? Why, oh why, do they have such a problem with strong women? On one hand, they complained about Hillary riding her husband’s coat-tails to the (un)nomination. “Oh, there are plenty of qualified women who were elected to office on hard work and their own merit,” said the pundits. As if Hillary wasn’t reelected to the Senate based on her own hard work. As if Baby Bush wasn’t elected to office on his father’s coattails. As if. As if. As if.

I could go on and on here, but Hillary really isn’t the point of this particular blog entry. What annoyed me is that when the two pundits were asked to name potential vice presidential nominees (for both parties), they could not come up with a single individual who had a vagina. Not one. So where, oh where, are all of these qualified women? How come none of them muster up? And — and this one is a little off-topic — if Obama really is the anti-war, pull-them-thar-troops out of Iraq nominee, why on earth would he pick uber-hawkish running mates? That just seems like it would come across as a bit, well, hypocritical.

When I was a little girl, my mother used to whisper in my ear at night that “You, too, could be president.” She was obviously lying.

I am double damned because Americans also hate smart people. One of the pundits offered up this little tidbit — a presidential race is all about “I-Like vs. I.Q.” Now, The Coach and I have been jawing about that very problem for weeks now. For some reason, Americans *want* to have a Bubba for president. They look at the candidates and think to themselves, “Now which one would be more fun at a BBQ?” Or, like one of my female relatives, they want the guy who looks the best in blue jeans. {Whatever.}

Back in high school, all elections were about popularity — be it homecoming queen or student council president. But, the stakes weren’t as high in high school. At best, a student council president might lobby for Blue Jean Fridays (I went to private school). In the real world, our next president will have to lead a diverse country through a variety of landmines: a cooling economy, a warming earth, the foreign policy disasters that he (or she) will inherit from the last bumbling fool that was elected to office. We should have a bright, brain, policy wonk type person as president … not the guy you want to drink a beer with on a Friday night.

In the end, we are a country that rewards mediocrity. Our schools are set up that way. Most jobs are set up that way. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that our political system is set up that way too.