I watch a lot of U.S. election coverage. Like everyone else, I try to read between the lines and see the gaps behind the gaffs. What I can’t find is any reason in the world to vote Mitt Romney the most powerful man on earth next to Bill Clinton.

It seems to me that a leader should have either an inspiring vision or skill in an important area. Ideally both. Romney’s vision apparently extends no farther than the idea of transporting his dog 600 miles in a car-top carrier strapped to the top of his station wagon; pausing only to hose off a trail of diarrhea spread all over the car and across four lanes by the terrified animal. ‘Seamus loves it up there.’

No shit.

Earlier in his life, the vision of a world in which haircuts sculpted by Nazi barbers would be part of the uniform led Mitt, accompanied by his bully buddies to throw a fellow student to the ground and shave his long locks. As for skill in a particular area, Romney is supposed to be good with money. He may have made as much as $20 million last year. No one’s certain because no one knows what tax free haven it calls home.

But $20 million? That’s it?

Mice nuts.

Justin Bieber made three times that much throwing up on stage and driving a chrome electric car. Judge Judy gets $30 million a year for talking down to trailer park residents. Between Thanksgiving dinners, Tiger Woods coins over $100 million. Add the fact that Mitt’s paltry paycheck has been earned on the backs of thousands he’s fired and otherwise let go and ripped off and it’s hard to see him as the pilot on any financial flight we’d want to tighten our belts for.

But the most distressing thing about this aspiring dog whisperer/hair stylist is his narrow definition of success and his lack of vision in pursuing it. In the shallow mind of Mitt, if you don’t have a car elevator at the beach house, you haven’t made it. I think that it’s safe to say that if any of us gives pause to think about the people who have influenced us in a positive way and inspired us to look inside ourselves for something special, wealth will have little to do with it.

During an interview many years ago, Bob Dylan said that ‘A lot of the ideas I have were influenced by an old man who had definite ideas on life and the universe and nature: all that matters. His name wouldn’t mean anything to you. He came to this country from Russia in the Twenties, started out as a boxer and ended up painting portraits of women.’

‘His first name was Norman.’

Nobody’s perfect, and Mitt doesn’t have a monopoly on lack of vision. For all I admire in Barrack Obama, I often wish that he would meet with Richard Branson and Burt Rutan over a Red Bull and dream up something temptingly absurd for all of us to rally behind and share stories of around the water cooler. If Kennedy can put a man on the moon, surely Barrack can stick a thorn up Mitt’s ass with an idea bigger than a car elevator. Perhaps he will, after he digs us out of the mess he was left and makes life tolerable for the people who had their dreams interrupted when Romney sent their jobs off-shore.