And...I'm Outta Here!

The Obama administration is going to be so cool. These people think of everything. The other day I discovered that the transition has its own Website, even its own blog. Obama understands our generation's compulsive need to record every experience for posterity, in journalistic style, as if the world hangs on our every act. Obama, man. He gets it.

But I was even more happy to discover that anyone can apply for a job in the new administration.

Anyone. The official transition web page has its own job application page, where readers can name the administration job of their choice. Talk about being inclusive! These are the halcyon days of a new era, when it is still possible for anyone to be Secretary of State. Or, for those with less ambition, Secretary of the Department of Transportation. Or Deputy Secretary of the Carpool Bureau of the Motor Vehicle Division (I'm just trying to help out those with less knowledge of the inner workings of government).

Obama kept saying during the campaign that it was us, not him, who would bring about change. Turns out he meant this literally. Like, apparently, we are literally supposed to run the new government. I have to say I'm impressed. The man talks a straight game.

Naturally, I put in my application. The job in the new administration that best fits my needs, I decided, is Ambassador to Italy. I think it would be a good fit. I love Italian wine, and I had a great time the one trip I took to Rome. They have amazing art, and the ruins of the ancient city are incredible. You can stroll around what used to be the Roman Senate, right where Brutus stabbed Julius Caesar. The Italian people were so friendly and it seemed they all spoke English. Also, on my one trip to Rome, I had a romantic fling with an expatriate American art student. This, as is well known, is the dream of every American tourist. So I think I am well qualified to be Ambassador to Italy.

I also think I would enjoy the position. I read recently in the New Yorker that these days Italian politics consist of Berlusconi and his cronies auditioning runway models for government appointments by taking them to bed. Surely the American ambassador can somehow get in on this? Even if I am merely asked to accompany Italian heads of state and their would-be assistant secretaries on the dinner portion of the interview, that would be fine. Berlusconi could say, "Ciao bella, Angelica! Circumstances require that you accompany our American friend to an afternoon performance of Pagliacci at the Venice Opera House." Then I would take it from there. That would be fine.

True, I don't speak Italian. But I am willing to learn. I don't know. Maybe the expensive state dinners I will attend can be conducted in English? How much trouble could that be? I don't mean to be culturally insensitive, but they already speak the language. Why make me suffer through Italian night school when my audience can already understand what I'm telling them? Maybe I could just learn a few key phrases, like, "I now cut this ribbon in the spirit of cooperation between two great nations, etc., and with that I must go. I need to pick up a bottle of Montepulciano before I meet the prospective Italian Minister of Education on the Spanish Steps. Grazie!"

The application is admirably direct. You enter your name, address, current occupation, and the job you'd like to hold. Is the entire Obama presidency going to be this easy? What's next, a place on the White House web page to enter the kind of health insurance you'd like to have? I'll take single-payer, please, with full dental benefits, thank you.

Of course I was distressed to learn that Obama is already interviewing for key administration positions, including Secretary of State, and that Hillary Clinton is a candidate for the job. That was a blow to my potential ambassadorship to Italy. Because, as I understand it, the Secretary of State recommends prospective ambassadors to the Senate. And if Hillary is doing the recommending, I'm probably not getting the job.

Of course I'm naturally cynical. I suspect that, in the end, I'm not really going to be named Ambassador to Italy, and that I will not be partying with Italian supermodels in Venice. Instead I'll probably end up being commenter number 1,045 on the latest post on the "What's Going on in Italy?" page of the State Department blog. Ho hum.

Still, as I said, these are the early days of the Obama transition. A boy can dream. I've already signed up for the Rosetta Stone crash course in Italian and, until someone else gets the job, I'm waiting by the phone. And when that call comes, it's going to be Arrivederche America! Ciao! San Luis Obispo!

It's going to be a great four years.

Follow Sean Carman on Twitter: www.twitter.com/seancarman