Talking to the Tea Party

Two words: Airport Security. I bet you feel a little irritated already. The security line at SFO International looks like a horde of fleeing refugees. It backs up like a clogged toilet all the way to the currency exchange kiosks. It advances in geological time. And what’s worse: travel to other countries that are just as safe (if not safer) than our own, and you know it doesn’t have to be this way. 

That’s what the chunky guy in a short sleeve white shirt, khaki shorts and flip-flops was bemoaning when I chimed in. It’s unbelievable! I find myself spontaneously kvetching with a total stranger. I don’t do this. Unless I’m getting paid lots of money or on one of my rare caffeine jags I keep my mouth shut and my thoughts to myself. I assume most people only want to hear what they already think. But spending months on these security lines changes you. The insane, impersonal, bureaucratic oppression of the post 9/11 world has been distilled into this one pointless, plodding moment, and me and this guy, we’re in it together.  We’ve reached the boiling point.

“Go to China if you want to see how quickly and efficiently this can be done,” he says to no one in particular, “and you certainly don’t have any problem feeling safe in China.” As long as your agenda is business and not politics, I think to myself, but out loud I agree with him emphatically, with an empathy and enthusiasm that’s almost backslapping. Next thing I know we’re swapping travel stories. You’ve been to Bangalore, Pune, Hyderabad? Me too! Man the security lines in Taipei, it’s like it used to be here in the eighties. We could almost hug each other.

How did it get like this: all smoke and mirrors, all show and no substance, squeezing and squeezing people relentlessly? We talk about how the security equipment industry has cashed in at our expense, and the decline of America in general, and before you know it we’re talking politics. I let him do most of the talking.

Here’s what I learn: He’s originally from Alabama, but now lives in Houston. A self-described southern conservative he thinks social security is a scam (it was sold as old age insurance, but all that money just goes right into the general fund so it was really just another Washington bait and switch scheme to suck more money out of the middle class,) FDR was the worst president ever (set the country on a path to ruin,) and that the US is in desperate need of great leadership instead of mealy-mouthed lapdogs who run the country by poll numbers. Unfortunately there hasn’t been anyone to fit that description from either party since Andrew Jackson who knew how to deal with the corrupt moneyed interests (When Biddle wanted to set up a Central US Bank Jackson threatened to drag him out on the dueling field and kill him.)

I have to admit that the thought of a shit-kicking American president ready to teach the oligarchic bastards that are still robbing this country blind a lesson by dragging them one by one onto the front lawn of the White House and popping a cap in their asses is very appealing.

Beyond that I disagree with just about everything else he had to say, but he explained simply and in compelling terms why he feels the way he does, and it makes perfect sense to me. This is a good man I’m talking to, a decent man. What’s more we share many of the same frustrations and concerns. We just differ in our understanding of the causes and solutions. I’d like to learn why, and because we’re stuck on this endless security line I have the opportunity to find out.

“You know,” I tell him, “I understand what you’re saying about social security, but I’d be interested know your thoughts about this. I heard on the radio recently that before social security the number of the elderly and the number of children living below the poverty line in this country was over eighteen percent. Today that number for the elderly has been cut in half. When Johnson’s programs for the war on poverty were fully funded the number of children living in poverty also dropped to about nine percent. But now that those programs have been gutted over the last thirty to forty years the number of kids in poverty is back up over 18%. Compared to what we spend on all these wars, for a relatively small investment government programs can really make a difference for the most vulnerable folks in our country if we’re willing to spend the money.”

He agreed. He is every bit as compassionate and concerned about others as I am, but here’s the problem:

“I used to work for a defense contractor,” he tells me, “and we used to make a sensor for the F-15 fighter. Part of the assembly required a special Teflon tape that we bought from 3M. So I call my contact there to get a price on these rolls of tape, and he tells me twenty-five dollars. Then he asks me what are we going to use it for, and I tell him. I hear him sigh, ‘This is for a government contract, isn’t it?’ he asks me. I tell him it is, and he says that means he has to give me a different price. He checks the price schedule for government work, and tells me the tape will cost $150 a roll. Before I can say anything else he tells me he knows what I’m thinking, but he explains that they have to fill out so many forms and jump through so many hoops every time they sell anything to the government that even at six times the price it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

Then my Alabama friend says to me, “For every dollar we send to Washington we’re lucky if we get a nickel back. Don’t you agree?”

That’s when the light went on. We’re both just sick of living in a kleptocracy and being ripped off. All he wants is a fair return. We’re not so different.

“So if you knew that we were getting eighty-five or ninety cents back on every dollar would that change the way you feel about these programs?”

“Absolutely.”

Could it be that simple? I think if he and I continued this conversation over dinner, by the end of the meal we might be able to sketch out a set of principles and guidelines that we could both agree would move this country forward. We wouldn’t solve everything obviously, but from this one brief conversation I know we could make a damn good start.

I think most people in this country of every political stripe would like to buy government like they buy a car. There’s a reasonable price for a base model that includes defense and a negotiated bare minimum of social services.  Then there’s a list of clear costs for packages of additional services that come with credible accounting so that people feel confident that they are actually getting what they are paying for. I bet my conservative friend might actually want some of those upgrades under those conditions, and I might be clearer about which add-ons I could live without.

I don’t mean to suggest that the solutions are simple, only that they may be simpler than the noise from the echo chamber allows us to see, and that our common humanity may allow us to discover that we are closer to each other than we think.

So let’s put the political divide in the resolved column, shall we? I will be working on the energy crisis tomorrow, climate change on Thursday, probably take a breather on Friday so that I will be rested and ready to take full advantage of the security lines coming home to sort out the Israeli/Palestinian conflict once and for all. I know what you’re thinking so let me conclude simply by saying, “You’re welcome.”  I’m going back to bed now to try and grab another hour of sleep.