Thinking Things Through
A hard rain fell, pounding the asphalt, collecting here and there in puddles and running into streams, and without a bus in sight. Five men stood forlorn, lost in their thoughts, waiting and wondering. Somehow it surfaced that they were all trying to get to the polls in time to cast their votes, and so they all decided to chip in for a cab. There was Joe the Plumber, Joe Six Pack, Joe Camel, Joe the Bartender, and Joe Mamma. The cabbie also happened to be a Joe – Joe Biden. But he was a strange guy in a Stephen King sort of way. The passengers each settled into their seats and tried to relax as their cab sped through the night.
Joe Six Pack was the first one to break the silence with a chuckle. “Ain’t this something. I haven’t voted in years and years. But when I found out that Obama might get into the White House, I had to vote. He wants to raise everybody’s taxes! I haven’t worked for six months and can't get health insurance, but that made my blood boil. I said to myself, ‘Joe Six Pack, it is your civic duty to vote. Sarah Palin is counting on you.’”
Joe Mamma had a sudden realization, “If Obama gets in, it shouldn’t be called the White House any more. Them blacks are always ruining things. Them and the Jews… and the Latinos… and the Catholics… and the chinks in China whose taking away all the jobs. Obama is in cahoots with them. That guy is dangerous. He’s a socialist, commie Marxist. Probably wants to raise them taxes so he can send our hard earned wealth to China. That’ll be the day – over my dead body.”
Joe Camel budded in “And what about the gays. Can you imagine if the gays and lesbians took over. There wouldn’t be any more children to carry things on. Nobody goin to the car races, foot ball games… no kids around to see Saw XX. The seats would all be empty. Something has got to be done! I mean, what’s going to happen to traditional family values. Heck, I’m all for marriage. Been married three times myself. But you think Obama cares!”
“But the worst thing,” Joe the Bartender added, “is that Obama would pull us out of Iraq. To bring home the troops now??? It doesn’t make any sense. Especially with the job market the way it is. I still got my job because most people have their priorities straight. But has Obama ever even been in a bar? Bush knew what he was doing – creating lots of jobs and a cash flow to the right people. Spreading the wealth around to the Blackwater guys and Halliburton. And now it’s going to those fat cats on Wall Street. All these guys, when they come into my bar, they can really put it away. And then, in the natural God given course of things there’s what I call “the trickle down effect.” See, Reagan had it right. It’s just the way God arranged for things. But this Obama, I don’t know what he’s thinking! The guy’s a wimp. Somebody’s got to stand up for the freakin rights of the free world.”
Joe the Plumber was unusually silent. “McCain’s gettin my vote,” was all he could muster, and the rest of the group mumbled in agreement.
All the while, Joe Biden the cabbie had been listening intently, peering into what seemed to be an endless void, driving through the mother of all rainfalls as the windshield wipers worked frantically. He wanted to speak up in the worst way, but he bit his lip. All he knew is that he couldn’t let this bunch get to the polls any time soon. His man was Obama, and five less votes for McCain surely couldn’t hurt. He wouldn’t have to say anything, but he’d have the last laugh. The trip was just going to take a little longer than anybody expected. He decided to take the long way around, head over to the east side of town, and across the bridge at San Luis Rey. But he did not know that his cab would be on the bridge as flood waters swept it away. And paying the cab fare, which none of them had anyways, turned out to be unnecessary.
Joe Six Pack was the first one to break the silence with a chuckle. “Ain’t this something. I haven’t voted in years and years. But when I found out that Obama might get into the White House, I had to vote. He wants to raise everybody’s taxes! I haven’t worked for six months and can't get health insurance, but that made my blood boil. I said to myself, ‘Joe Six Pack, it is your civic duty to vote. Sarah Palin is counting on you.’”
Joe Mamma had a sudden realization, “If Obama gets in, it shouldn’t be called the White House any more. Them blacks are always ruining things. Them and the Jews… and the Latinos… and the Catholics… and the chinks in China whose taking away all the jobs. Obama is in cahoots with them. That guy is dangerous. He’s a socialist, commie Marxist. Probably wants to raise them taxes so he can send our hard earned wealth to China. That’ll be the day – over my dead body.”
Joe Camel budded in “And what about the gays. Can you imagine if the gays and lesbians took over. There wouldn’t be any more children to carry things on. Nobody goin to the car races, foot ball games… no kids around to see Saw XX. The seats would all be empty. Something has got to be done! I mean, what’s going to happen to traditional family values. Heck, I’m all for marriage. Been married three times myself. But you think Obama cares!”
“But the worst thing,” Joe the Bartender added, “is that Obama would pull us out of Iraq. To bring home the troops now??? It doesn’t make any sense. Especially with the job market the way it is. I still got my job because most people have their priorities straight. But has Obama ever even been in a bar? Bush knew what he was doing – creating lots of jobs and a cash flow to the right people. Spreading the wealth around to the Blackwater guys and Halliburton. And now it’s going to those fat cats on Wall Street. All these guys, when they come into my bar, they can really put it away. And then, in the natural God given course of things there’s what I call “the trickle down effect.” See, Reagan had it right. It’s just the way God arranged for things. But this Obama, I don’t know what he’s thinking! The guy’s a wimp. Somebody’s got to stand up for the freakin rights of the free world.”
Joe the Plumber was unusually silent. “McCain’s gettin my vote,” was all he could muster, and the rest of the group mumbled in agreement.
All the while, Joe Biden the cabbie had been listening intently, peering into what seemed to be an endless void, driving through the mother of all rainfalls as the windshield wipers worked frantically. He wanted to speak up in the worst way, but he bit his lip. All he knew is that he couldn’t let this bunch get to the polls any time soon. His man was Obama, and five less votes for McCain surely couldn’t hurt. He wouldn’t have to say anything, but he’d have the last laugh. The trip was just going to take a little longer than anybody expected. He decided to take the long way around, head over to the east side of town, and across the bridge at San Luis Rey. But he did not know that his cab would be on the bridge as flood waters swept it away. And paying the cab fare, which none of them had anyways, turned out to be unnecessary.
posted by Andy Fraenkel at 9:20 AM
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