Presidents’ Day came and went . . . and I didn’t give my wife a present!

As you age, you forget these things.

In honor of George Washington, I could have given her a wooden smile, or retired after my second term as Taker-Outer of The Garbage.

In honor of Abe Lincoln, I could have grown a beard.

Or I could just have given her a box of chocolates.

Among my favorite presidents stands Grover Cleveland, a man of girth, the kind unlikely to pass up the chocolates (if you can tell from pictures). His daughter, Ruth, first presidential offspring to be born in the White House, was honored with a popular chocolate bar named after her, the Baby Ruth.

So, next year, chocolates.

But Presidents’ Day got me thinking. I notice that when historians choose the “greatest” presidents, they tend to choose war guys, or those who increase the size of the government. (Surprise, surprise: these are often the same.) I prefer, on the other hand, presidents like Jefferson and Harding, politicians who actually decreased the scope and budgets of the federal government while in office.

Recent presidents have talked about following suit, but have yet to accomplish anything like it. That’s why they aren’t great presidents, if you ask me.

So, in this spirit of cutting back, maybe I shouldn’t eat any of the chocolates I give. Maybe I should go on a diet.

Ahem, er, let’s not think about that; let’s wander back to the beginning, the beginning of all American political celebrations.

On July 2, 1776, America’s Second Continental Congress agreed upon the Lee Resolution, resolving that, in the words of the document, “these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States, that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved."

John Adams, writing to his wife the next day, prophesied that July 2nd would become the most memorable in the history of our country, celebrated with parades, marching bands, speeches . . .

He was wrong. It was the adoption of the Declaration of Independence, on the 4th, that went down in history. Who remembers the Lee Resolution?

No biggie, I guess. Celebrating the Declaration makes sense. Call it a triumph of eloquence over legislation.

America’s first constitution was written in 1776 and adopted in late 1777, and called the Articles of Confederation. In those days, the leader of Congress was called the President, in the sense of “presiding officer.” Samuel Huntington, the fifth president of the Second Continental Congress, was the first to be referred to as “President of the United States, in Congress Assembled,” but it was John Hanson, the successor to Huntington’s successor, who most often used the designation as President outside of the most official of acts, such as the signing of treaties.

He’s sometimes called the Forgotten First President. Truth is, he wasn’t the first, and he’s not quite forgotten.

Presidents in those days were the very opposite of monarchs. They had little power. And the Articles limited their term in office to one year!

Modern-day presidents seem more like kings, possessing vast hoards of power. But, thanks to the 22nd amendment to America’s second constitution, they, too, possess term limits.

Our current Congress has no term limits, however. Senators, Representatives — all may serve as long as they can win in lopsided elections where their advantages as incumbents tend to swamp most challengers. And our Constitution does not limit their time served on committees or time spent presiding as Speaker of the House or as Senate president pro tem. These matters are entirely up to the un-term-limited Congress.

Which is a big problem. It allows for accumulations of power. New Financial Services Committee Chairman Barney Frank recently told the Washington Post, “Financial services companies are inclined to give to me because I’m chairman of the committee important to their interests.” When asked if banking interests felt “obligated” to give to him because of his position, Frank replied, “Obligated? No. Incentivized? Yes."

Ah, incentived! How are incumbents incentivized? Well, unlimited terms give them too much time . . .

• to learn ways to work behind the scenes for their own benefit;
• to bottleneck power in committees and in favored positions;
• to learn tricky ways to give special benefits to favored constituents, like their donors (oink oink: I’m talkin’ pork here). Continued...