I was at Willow yesterday at Happy Hour time- big surprise- but I have an excuse. There was actual business to accomplish.
Old Jim and I have entered into an agreement in which he will review the 1100 pages of the manuscript I printed out a couple months ago that comprise the articles that make up the book about our pal Mac Showers.
It is time to get on with that, and I trust Jim’s literary sensibilities. He asked me what I thought the book was about, and I said I wasn’t quite sure- but it was about all of us, with Mac as a sort of moral compass in our collective life and times.
“You have too much Willow in it,” he growled, taking a sip of Bud from the brown long-neck on the bar in front of him. Jon-without sauntered in a few minutes later, looking cool and elegant as always. He slid onto the stool next to me.
“Happy Indigenous People’s Day,” he dead-panned.
“No shit,” I said. “Go Native Americans!”
He gave me his slightly lop-sided smile. “Who comes up with this lunacy? I mean, what was wrong with Columbus?”
“Well, the good people of Seattle elected a city council that thinks we should celebrate the advanced local cultures that were destroyed by the arrival of the Europeans.”
“Why did it have to be Columbus Day? Wasn’t that holiday the result of long hard work by the Italian-American community to celebrate their contribution to the American Dream? Weren’t they discriminated against?”
“The people in Seattle and Berkeley have moved on to higher things,” I said. “I mean, I take their point. We may not have been as bad as the Conquistadors in how we treated the locals but it was an ugly process. I remember the first time I flew into Santo Domingo, where they have the bones of Great Navigator. The Faro a Colon- the giant Columbus Lighthouse- was built by Dominican Republic to commemorate the 500th anniversary of the landing. They thought it was going to be a huge tourist attraction but it didn’t work out that way. The popular view is that the Europeans should have landed in China, where they intended.”
“That would have solved a lot of problems. But the whole thing is as insulting and ridiculous as the Purple Penguin thing,” said Jon, raising his vodka and lime.
Jim knitted his brow. “What the hell is that? Last Penguin I remember was Burgess Meredith on the TV Batman show.”
“It is more progress, Jim, said Jon, straightening his impeccably knotted bow tie. A public school district in Nebraska has told its teachers to refer to all children as “purple penguins” in place of gender specific adjectives.”
“Like what?”
“Boys and girls.”
“Is that a relative concept now, male and female?”
“Well, some of the penguins might want to be other animals, and their wishes have to be respected.”
“Why? They are kids, for Christ’s sake. They are supposed to be taught some useful things and we are wasting our time on that? It’s as crazy as the controversy over the name of the Washington professional football team.”
“People have to be riled up about something,” I said, looking at the diminishing level of Happy Hour white in my glass. “They need to keep us distracted on crap that means nothing. I mean, this is much more important than barbarous jihadis beheading their was across Iraq, or a couple out-of-control plagues they can’t seem to get their arms around or anything of the other lunacy that is going on.”
Jim made an accurate demographic suggestion as to what they might call the Washington Football Team which was much more offensive than polite society is able to tolerate any more.
Jon reached into the pocket of his well-cut suit jacket and produced his smart phone. “I saw some suggestions for the new logo,” he said. “Some of them are pretty good.” He scrolled though his picture gallery and held the phone up so Jim and I could see the images. This first one isn’t accurate, but at least it only offends White Men, who don’t matter:”
“He looks sort of noble.” I said. “I could get behind that one- celebrate our Caucasian heritage.”
Jon swiped his finger across the screen and held up the phone to show us another:
“With this one they can keep some of the tradition and honor the folks downstate.”
“I think there could be a lot of support for that one.”
“Or one that reflects some of the important diversity demographics of the Capital:”
“That one I like. Celebrate diversity!”
Jon drew his finger across the screen again. “But the only one that actually makes sense is this one,” he said. “It reflects the quality of the team, their commitment to excellence and goes well lightly salted and with butter.”
“Perfect,” said Jim.
“Well I’ll be a Purple Penguin,” I said, and drained the glass of wine. Then I wagged a finger at Jasper for more. “At least you can do something useful with potatoes.”
Copyright 2014 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
Twitter: @jayare303