I asked Tea Party Slim, "What makes you people so damn mean?"
Slim seemed taken aback. "Mean?"
"You're doing pretty well, aren't you?" I said, feeling a need to elaborate and/or rub it in. "Many of you are retired. Your homes are paid off and you have cars and RVs. You can visit your grandkids any time you want. Some, like you, are veterans and have the entire VA medical system at your disposal."
Slim appeared thoughtful. "We worked hard for our money. And
some of us slogged through rice paddies protecting our freedoms."
"Were you ever actually in a rice paddy, Slim?"
He seemed to blush a bit. "You know what I mean. Some of us served."
I had come to grips with my non-service during the Vietnam era. Apparently Slim had not. "But you're doing pretty well now, right? No a rice paddy in sight here in Wyoming."
"We're taxed to death. I wouldn't say that's 'well off' "
"Just how are you taxed to death? We don't have a state income tax. Property taxes are low. Sales taxes are 5 percent...."
"But they tack on that 1 percent to pay for things we don't need."
"Like road improvements?"
"They are always working on the roads but nothing gets improved. And how come sand trucks take all day to 'improve' the roads every winter?"
I had to admit he had some good points. "But overall, our roads are good. No muddy quagmires to get bogged down in, right?"
Slim shrugged.
"Sewer and water system improvements. Flood control. New landfill. New library. I know that you and the misses use our library."
"All right, all right. The 1 percent added tax isn't so bad."
"There's no regressive grocery tax."
"We buy our groceries at the base BX."
"Like I said..."
"You wouldn't deny a veteran his benefits, would you?"
"I'm happy to pay my taxes so that you get those benefits." I smiled. It was my Cheshire Cat grin.
"Federal taxes are too high. Government too big."
Slim often digs these holes for himself. We sat there for several minutes while his words drifted through the air.
"Government...." I began.
"O.K., I was a government employee most of my life," Slim sputtered. "We all know that. But government is way too big. You wouldn't believe the waste that I saw. Taxpayer money isn't being spent wisely."
"At last we can agree on something," I said. Then I was silent as a Buddha. I felt like crawling out of my chair and sitting cross-legged on the floor. I would have too, if my knees weren't so ancient and bad.
Slim broke the silence. "Mr. Anti-War Pinko," he said.
"Make that Mr. Bleeding Heart Anti-War Pinko."
"Done."
"You call me names. Why is that?"
"You call us names. Teabaggers, filthy things like that."
"But that's a sexual term. And you guys yourselves used that, at least in the beginning."
"No we didn't."
"Maybe not. But the words you direct at Occupy Wall Street are so much more hurtful."
"They're bums," spat Slim.
"See what I mean? They're kids just trying to make a living."
"Why aren't they making a living? They're out on the streets throwing bricks at cops."
"First of all, they're not throwing bricks at cops. The protesters are nonviolent. The cops are the violent ones."
"They have to protect themselves!"
"From what -- peace, love and understanding?"
"A cop in San Francisco -- your favorite hippie town -- was slashed by a razor during a demonstration."
"I heard about that. There have been a thousand of these Occupy events and that's all you have?"
"There have been thousands of violent acts."
"Name them -- all of them."
Slim stared at me.
"You can't, can you? Meanwhile, you Tea Party guys pack heat to your demos and the cops look on meekly."
"Second amendment."
"Spare me," I said. "Name one incident where there was gunplay at an Occupy event." I could tell that Slim was replaying in his head hours upon hours of Fox broadcasts. "If this was a violent revolution by a bunch of wild-eyed radicals, don't you think there would have been gunplay by now?"
"Just wait," said Slim. "It will happen." He grinned. "And when it does, the cops can count on us loyally armed citizens to back them up."
I had a mental image of thousands of well-armed geezers taking to the streets. A cop's worst nightmare.
"I keep asking the same question but don't get an answer: Why are you so damn mean?"
"It's our God-given right as American citizens," said Slim.
"God, I'm sure, will be pleased to hear that."
