No less an economic expert than the esteemed hostess of the DR Show on NPR, has, herself, proclaimed: “We must pull all the levers”. Yes, pull every one! It’s been generations since we have seen so much pulling in Washington. So much excitement!
What are we, outside the Beltway, here on “Main Street”, the average “Joe the Plumber”, supposed to do? What do we pull on? (For my buddies back in Brooklyn, PLEASE don’t answer that)
I can only speak for myself.
When, looking down their noses, the elitists talk of “populist” resentment, I know what they mean. They mean you and me: The outsiders, the ones who don’t get it; the un-infected.
Go shopping, they tell us. Send us to Washington, they say; we’ll clean up the mess, we’ll drain the swamp. You people, the plain folks, just keep on truckin’, they say, keep yourselves busy, while we, who know absolutely nothing about anything, we’ll kiss the boo-boo, and make all the pain go away.
In between filing the rejection letters, that’s what I do: I keep myself busy. I’ve never been too good with crosswords, but I’m a fair hand with the easier games. I like connecting the dots.
Yesterday, Dot One appeared in the morning. NPR was having yet another plug-ola session; another book to sell; another “hot” topic to discuss, another alarm to be raised, another worthy cause and prescient author to help along the path to royalties.
This guy was no slouch. A Pulitzer prize-winner. No less.
The topic was the “new” pollutants. It seems the old dangers- the smokestacks, the rivers of fire, are now passé’. If you want to make a buck, write about the new pollution. All of the dangers that we see, taste and feel are five minutes ago.
A billion pounds of chicken-crap surrounding our nation’s capital is, apparently, the least of the problems facing the good folks in D.C. The massive dung-heap there is simply a tell-tale. There is an even larger, invisible, problem. The aqueduct bringing in the water is full of the new dangerous chemicals: Eighty-Five of them. The old screens just aren’t up to the job. They’re getting through! Fifty-five of them. (Or so)
I must confess. I did find the discussion very interesting. I’m half-Jewish after all; and I have a certain weakness for scholarship in general, and the learned in particular. (As long as their righteous) Not only that, I’m a baby-boomer as well. My mind is a product of most of the movements. I consider myself a dyed-in-the wool environmentalist. I can prove it to anyone who doubts my sincerity: I still have four Joni Mitchell albums lying around somewhere.
Dot One titillated my mind- for a few minutes. I was distracted. I’ve been pre-occupied with rumblings along the Tejano line. Even though I don’t have a dog in the race, I was going to the six-o’clock (In Texas-that’s six sharp) meeting of the Hondo City Council. That’s where the establishment was trying to hold the line against the Latino earthquake called Real Change. I wanted to see if a certain bulwark of resistance would have the eggs to show up.
Well, Gruber didn’t make it. The whole show was something of a dud. While the town’s elected leaders retreated into executive session to discuss the really HOT stuff, the rest of the assembled multitude, (About twenty-five people) milled about outside the modest Municipal Building, and smoked cigarettes, as the sun set on yet another perfect day in heaven.
When the council reconvened, a motion to inflame and perpetuate the division between Real Change and the Establishment was allowed, it found no seconds, and died a natural death.
Very little fireworks. But, I made a new friend during the recess, and that’s always a good thing.
It was almost nine o’clock when I got home. As soon as she heard the car crunching into the driveway, she had the franks on the griddle. She was hungry.