Fried green politicians
I have a vision of a better world. And every time I entertain
that vision, Andy Rooney is never there. I'm not going anywhere with
this. But I feel better for mentioning it.
When I was in California, I got to meet a member of the Green
Party. Green Party guys aren't hard to find in Sebastopol, since the
city now holds a Green majority on its council, only the second city in
the country with such bragging rights. The first city was... I don't
know. Who cares? Sebastopol's second, and that's all that matters for
this column.
So I was sitting at a table with this Green boy, a young city
councilman by the name of Durwood. Not his real name. I can't remember
his real name, which is just as well, for he looks like the kind who
would sue my ass. For he would not be able to kick it. You know the
type. Looks gay, happens to be heterosexual. Durwood.
Anyway, I get introduced to him and he's talking about getting
pharmaceuticals -- legal ones, mind you -- from somewhere. Could have
been the local junior college, might have been an HMO. I really didn't
catch it, having entered in the middle of the conversation. All I heard
him say was, "And they offer almost every kind of pharmaceutical there."
My ears perked up. I was drunk, so perky ears was a given.
"Can you get roofies?" I asked.
He looked at me and said, "What are roofies?" I looked around
the table -- it was a grim, politically-correct bunch, so I wasn't
going to get any help.
"Roofies? Hmmm. It's kind of like Viagra for young people."
Nodding heads all around, including mine (for I was drunk).
Roofies are the date rape drug. It's okay if you don't know
that. Probably speaks well of you. But a city councilman should know
what roofies are. [Cut to next night. Interior shot.]
Tuesday night, I finished a set at Jasper O'Farrell's bar,
where I regaled them with original songs and commentary, mostly about
stroke victims and Alzheimer's patients. The Piranha Man sat in, and I
can safely say that after my set, half the crowd left the building. Can
I move an audience? I think so.
And after that same set, I spied my favorite politician in the
house, Sebastopol city councilman Bill Roventini (see "Roventini's
Magic Trick"). Unlike
most politicians, Roventini manages to be sneaky, adroit, manipulating
and effective, yet still keeps a sense of self. That is, he ain't no
phony. I went up to reintroduce myself.
"Bill. Long time. Did you read my column about you?" He said
he had.
"How's the new council?"
"It's good," he lied. "Have you met the new councilman?" he
asked, pointing out the person to his right.
It was Durwood.
"Yeah, I met him last night."
Being discreet -- for as Will Rogers said, all men are
ignorant, just on different subjects -- I took Durwood aside and said,
"Listen, let me tell you what roofies are. Roofies are --"
"Oh," he said, smugly. "I know what they are. I just don't
like to admit that in public."
I stopped dead in my tracks. For once again, I was drunk. But
I also was interested in bending Roventini's ear (who, after all, was
buying me a drink) so I didn't really respond. I just said, "Really."
But here's what I was thinking:
You don't like to admit you know what roofies are in
public? Why? Are you holding? Besides, you just admitted your knowledge
of roofies in public. And we're at the same bar we were at the other
night. Maybe you just didn't want to talk about it in front of your
girlfriend, lest you have to give up bowling night. Either way, you're
a lying sack of shit, right? For if you do know what roofies are, you
lied to me last night. If you didn't really know about roofies until
the next day when you looked it up on the Internet, then you're lying
to me now.
I know for a logical fact that Durwood is a lying sack of
shit. I'm just unsure as to the time frame.
Whatever. As I talked to Roventini, Durwood started laughing.
"What's so funny?" I asked Durwood. "Oh, I was just thinking about the
other night."
I squinted at him. Did I fuck him? Naw, I was sure I didn't.
Did I fuck his girlfriend? And if so, why was he laughing? Was I that
bad? Then he said, "So you're on NPR and you write a column on the
Internet? Can I get the Web addresses for both of those?"
"Sure," I said. And I understood readily where he was coming
from. He wanted to check up on me. Lying sacks of shit always think
everyone else is a lying sack of shit.
Anyway, now I know what the Green Party stands for -- wet
behind the ears. And now you know why I admire Republican politicians.
Like every other politician, Republicans lie like crack whores. But it
takes me months to figure out their bullshit. Not 24 hours.
* * *
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This column aims to be funny. If you can
read anything else into it, you're on your own. Copyright 2001 by Mike
Jasper.
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