Rick Slackett entered the roadhouse on Kentucky Hiway 68 just outside of Murkin, and dropped a tightly bound stack of tabloids on the bar, near the Pabst Blue Ribbon tap. "How's business, Rucker?" he said to his old chum behind the bar.
"Well, look who's here," the young barman grinned in the slow, thick twang that characterized Central Kentucky. "How ya doin', Rick? You been scarce as union jobs around here." Rick engaged the blade of the long, thin knife he had pulled from his pocket to cut the plastic binding that secured the papers.
"The July issue of Kentucky Rhythm, personally delivered to your doorstep by the new Associate Editor. Now that's service." The windowless clapboard lounge was dimly lit by a broad assortment of cheesy neon beer signs given away over many years by the local wholesaler. It was not yet very crowded at quarter past eight that summer Thursday night.
Rucker pulled a copy off the top of the pile and turned to the table of contents on page three. "You're doin' good. You get to write the top story and be chief paperboy. That six years you spent in journalism school has finally paid off."
"Hey, I'm photographer and ad salesman too. I told you I'd make it big someday." The barkeep tossed two beer glasses in the air, making them do double back somersaults before landing bottom first in his hand in front of the PBR tap. He handed the first full glass to Rick and toasted him with the second. "Here's to hanging out in bars gettin' wasted."
"Same to you. I'm glad to see you keeping your chops up. I remember how many beer bottles you used to break. You know I've been thinking about getting Green River Day back together," Rick tapped on the bar for emphasis, his slim body leaned at an awkward angle, "and I'll need you back as my drummer."
"Right. It's been seven years since you broke up the band to go to college, and every time you're back here you want to get it together again. Some of us have real lives, now."
"Just remember, when I make it big, Rucker, I'll make you eat those words."
"You just might do it, pal. You just might do it." Rucker thumbed through the Rhythm, which covered an eclectic mix of music, theater and lifestyle-oriented features. "What's this piece you wrote here about this Coatsdale guy? I thought you only wrote about music."
"What a piece of work that guy is. He's running for Congress, like he's some sort of revolutionary. A Republican revolutionary, if you can believe that. Kevin Taylor -- he's the editor - he likes to have the occasional political piece. He thinks it gives his rag more class, like it's Rolling Stone or something. This guy Coatsdale's puffed up so full of smoke that I was wheezin' half way through the interview."
"We could use a revolution around here. I should own this joint. Power to the people. Yeah!" Rucker unscrewed the lid from a two gallon jar of pink sausages floating in murky brine. He skewered a couple with two long toothpicks and offered one to Rick.
Sunday, December 22, 2019
Thursday, December 19, 2019
Congressionally Challenged, A Political Satire
1994
"Thank you for taking the time to do this interview with me. You must be very busy on the campaign trail." The young, denim-trousered man tried hard not to reveal his lack of experience in political reporting.
“The pleasure's mine, son. You know, I think it's especially important for young people to be involved in politics. A lot of people your age don’t even vote, you know.”
"Yes, sir, I'm aware of that. But you seem to be making change the centerpiece of your campaign, and that’s why my editor wanted me to do this interview. A lot of young people want change.”
“Do you think so, Rick? Well, like the Beatles song says, 'A Change Is Gonna Come. Or was that Bob Dylan?”
“I think it was a Sam Cooke song. My brothers used to listen to him when I was growing up." Rick examined the candidate for visual clues about his background. Pushing 50. Doesn't look like he was ever a rocker. Not highbrow enough for classical, yet pretentious enough to keep some Pavarotti in his collection for when his high-powered friends came over. Probably ‘Pavarotti Sings Broadway' from Time-Life.
“Why do you think a change has got to come?" Rick scribbled notes, with a tape recorder as backup.
“Son, you see, we've had Democrats controlling the Congress -- especially the House of Representatives -- for the past 40 years. And today, our country is almost bankrupt. We have a staggering national debt, and someone your age -- you look to be about twenty...."
"Twenty-five"
"Someone your age -- every child and young adult in this country has been endowed with an $18,000 share of the national debt. $18,000." He paused until Rick stopped scribbling, “I put balancing the federal budget at the very top of what I'll do when I'm elected to Congress.”
The November 1994 election was fast approaching.
"But didn't the Republicans cause a lot of that debt? Didn't it start in the Reagan years?" Rick tried not to sound argumentative. After all, he had a journalism degree.
“Son, I know your memory doesn't go as far back as some of us, but when Ronald Reagan came into office, the Democratic President before him, Jimmy Carter, had just about run the economy into the ground. You couldn't even get a tank of gas, things were so bad back then. Let me put it to you this way. Republicans want to cut back the government and cut taxes so you'll have more money to put in your pocket. Democrats want to raise taxes." Don Coatsdale stretched out his thin lips into a big smile. He exuded warmth and sincerity, but in a practiced way.
“So I understand you've recently returned to Murkin to run for Congress?”
“Rick, you know I've never really left Kentucky. I've carried Kentucky in my heart wherever I've been. When you're born and raised in this rich soil, in this heartland, when your forefathers and your kin chose this land and worked it for generations, you never leave it. You're never far away. And when you're needed, you're here. I love this land like no other."
"That's very...well said." Well rehearsed. Rick remembered why he didn't trust politicians.
"Thank you, son. I grew up listening to my daddy preach. He was the preacher at the First Baptist Church of Murkin, you know. The Lord's word just used to roll off his tongue."
"Sir, you've made a big issue in your campaign about being anti-Washington, but you've been criticized by your opponent because you've lived there for 25 years and are a lobbyist for the tobacco industry.”
“Yes sir, now I'm real glad you brought that up, because I have a few things to say about that. When you say my opponents have criticized me, you mean the cronies of Congressman Cal Hubble, and yes, they're trying every mean political trick in the book. You know, Hubble has been in office for twenty eight years. That's longer than your entire lifetime, son. When a Congressman has been in office that long, he completely loses touch with the people who sent him there. He becomes a part of the problem, and the problem is that government has become too big, and taxes are too high, and the Congress isn't listening to the people anymore."
"But, uh, doesn't being a lobbyist make you a Washington insider too?"
"Son, I've looked out for the interests of Kentucky citizens my entire career. I went to Washington to work for Senator Earl Mayfield, may his soul rest in Heaven. He was a great friend to the Kentucky Farmer -- he was a friend and benefactor to every man and woman in the Commonwealth of Kentucky. And I’ve continued to represent the interests of Kentucky every way I know how. And if you think… And those who say I'm an insider -- when I'm fighting for the very livelihood of the farmers and thousands of jobs in Kentucky -- well, they just don't know how outside of the politically correct mainstream of Washington politics that puts me. But I'll fight for the people of Kentucky no matter how unpopular that makes me in the halls of Congress. You can bet on it."
"Thank you for taking the time to do this interview with me. You must be very busy on the campaign trail." The young, denim-trousered man tried hard not to reveal his lack of experience in political reporting.
“The pleasure's mine, son. You know, I think it's especially important for young people to be involved in politics. A lot of people your age don’t even vote, you know.”
"Yes, sir, I'm aware of that. But you seem to be making change the centerpiece of your campaign, and that’s why my editor wanted me to do this interview. A lot of young people want change.”
“Do you think so, Rick? Well, like the Beatles song says, 'A Change Is Gonna Come. Or was that Bob Dylan?”
“I think it was a Sam Cooke song. My brothers used to listen to him when I was growing up." Rick examined the candidate for visual clues about his background. Pushing 50. Doesn't look like he was ever a rocker. Not highbrow enough for classical, yet pretentious enough to keep some Pavarotti in his collection for when his high-powered friends came over. Probably ‘Pavarotti Sings Broadway' from Time-Life.
“Why do you think a change has got to come?" Rick scribbled notes, with a tape recorder as backup.
“Son, you see, we've had Democrats controlling the Congress -- especially the House of Representatives -- for the past 40 years. And today, our country is almost bankrupt. We have a staggering national debt, and someone your age -- you look to be about twenty...."
"Twenty-five"
"Someone your age -- every child and young adult in this country has been endowed with an $18,000 share of the national debt. $18,000." He paused until Rick stopped scribbling, “I put balancing the federal budget at the very top of what I'll do when I'm elected to Congress.”
The November 1994 election was fast approaching.
"But didn't the Republicans cause a lot of that debt? Didn't it start in the Reagan years?" Rick tried not to sound argumentative. After all, he had a journalism degree.
“Son, I know your memory doesn't go as far back as some of us, but when Ronald Reagan came into office, the Democratic President before him, Jimmy Carter, had just about run the economy into the ground. You couldn't even get a tank of gas, things were so bad back then. Let me put it to you this way. Republicans want to cut back the government and cut taxes so you'll have more money to put in your pocket. Democrats want to raise taxes." Don Coatsdale stretched out his thin lips into a big smile. He exuded warmth and sincerity, but in a practiced way.
“So I understand you've recently returned to Murkin to run for Congress?”
“Rick, you know I've never really left Kentucky. I've carried Kentucky in my heart wherever I've been. When you're born and raised in this rich soil, in this heartland, when your forefathers and your kin chose this land and worked it for generations, you never leave it. You're never far away. And when you're needed, you're here. I love this land like no other."
"That's very...well said." Well rehearsed. Rick remembered why he didn't trust politicians.
"Thank you, son. I grew up listening to my daddy preach. He was the preacher at the First Baptist Church of Murkin, you know. The Lord's word just used to roll off his tongue."
"Sir, you've made a big issue in your campaign about being anti-Washington, but you've been criticized by your opponent because you've lived there for 25 years and are a lobbyist for the tobacco industry.”
“Yes sir, now I'm real glad you brought that up, because I have a few things to say about that. When you say my opponents have criticized me, you mean the cronies of Congressman Cal Hubble, and yes, they're trying every mean political trick in the book. You know, Hubble has been in office for twenty eight years. That's longer than your entire lifetime, son. When a Congressman has been in office that long, he completely loses touch with the people who sent him there. He becomes a part of the problem, and the problem is that government has become too big, and taxes are too high, and the Congress isn't listening to the people anymore."
"But, uh, doesn't being a lobbyist make you a Washington insider too?"
"Son, I've looked out for the interests of Kentucky citizens my entire career. I went to Washington to work for Senator Earl Mayfield, may his soul rest in Heaven. He was a great friend to the Kentucky Farmer -- he was a friend and benefactor to every man and woman in the Commonwealth of Kentucky. And I’ve continued to represent the interests of Kentucky every way I know how. And if you think… And those who say I'm an insider -- when I'm fighting for the very livelihood of the farmers and thousands of jobs in Kentucky -- well, they just don't know how outside of the politically correct mainstream of Washington politics that puts me. But I'll fight for the people of Kentucky no matter how unpopular that makes me in the halls of Congress. You can bet on it."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
