Jess Brownell is a freelance writer living in Milwaukee.
So here you are, 75 years old, tired, bitter, after many years of political semi-activism deeply cynical about that process (and most others as well), in a car on a blustery March morning on the way to Madison, Wisconsin, a town you’ve never much liked, to participate in a goddamn protest rally. Why are you doing this?
Could be that the celebratory “Walker Wins” headline in what passes locally for a daily newspaper, the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel (your Bay Guardian publisher once worked in those precincts, but that was long, long ago) had something to do with it. “Packers Win” is fine any time it happens. Everybody loves the Packers. Everybody does not love Scott Walker. On the other hand, the paper actually endorsed Walker, so what could you have expected?
Your wife, with you today, has been here several times before to protest Walker’s budget, as have many friends and neighbors. You could say that you owe them this one. But then, you owe a lot of people a lot of things, and it doesn’t often get you off the couch.
Maybe you’re just looking for a chance to call a Republican legislator an ass-licking whore; there would be some satisfaction in that. But it’s the weekend and the ass-licking whores will all be in some safe place where crazy old men can’t call them names. And that’s probably for the best. You have always tried to be a mannerly person and a phrase like “ass-licking whore” is hard to work into polite conversation.
Or maybe it’s the involvement in Wisconsin of the Koch brothers, those strange and malevolent creatures who have burst in a most unseemly way into the national spotlight. Time enough on the ride to consider the eagerly gobbled-up myths they have spread about themselves. They are Libertarians, they claim, and global warming skeptics. If they are Libertarians, why are they spending millions of dollars in the hope that government will restrict the freedom of people in Wisconsin? As Libertarians, shouldn’t they just leave us alone? And if they are global warming skeptics, why are they so anxious to destroy whatever vestiges of the labor movement are left in the Great Lakes states? Have they not in fact realized that as the south and southwest become less and less habitable the real money will have to be made in places with ample water? Sure they have. They’re evil, not stupid. They are not here, though, to vocally accost, and are not likely ever to be.
Hey, it’s tractorcade day. Are you by any chance here to see the tractors? There’s a long parade of them. Haven’t seen this many tractors since the Centennial in your hometown in Nebraska. Some of them are huge, today’s models, designed as much for combat as agriculture, it seems, and thus in the right place today — or would be if there were any ass-licking whores here to run over. Others are vintage and have names you had all but forgotten – Case and Oliver and Massey-Ferguson. A little twinge of nostalgia there, yes, but hardly enough to justify your presence.
All of them seem to be driven by real farmers, too, and it’s nice to think so many farmers took the time and effort to show support for the rights of teachers and public employees. But you grew up on a farm. You’ve seen a lot of farmers. Not here for that.
Tony Shalhoub is at the rally today. He’s the actor best known for starring in “Monk,” though his career would be substantial without that. He’s from Green Bay and has a sister who’s a teacher there. Apparently he doesn’t like the way Scott Walker and the Republicans are fucking over his sister. Not that they care about anybody’s sister. Dalai Lama got a sister? Bring her on. (Have they thought ahead on this? Scott Walker has promised to create 250,000 jobs. What if the teachers take 59,000 of them? What then, Scott?)
Good for Tony Shalhoub, but you have worked in the theater and met a lot of actors and liked most of them. You’re not here to see another one.
Is it the Capitol itself, that beautiful and venerable building? On the whole you think not. Your most vivid recollection of the Capitol is of a day spent years ago as part of a group lobbying for money for the arts, a laughable notion in today’s political climate but not unthinkable at the time. You had a sore back, spent hours walking those marble floors, and as far as you can remember the only tangible result was the worst case of sciatica you have ever had. Don’t want to go back in. Might not want to go in even if there were ass-licking whores in there to yell at.
If it’s not actors or tractors, buildings or buddies, what is it? Might as well face the facts. It’s the people. You’ve always had a taste for low-life, for cheap saloons and marginal characters. You’re really here to mingle with the thugs and slobs who have turned out in full force – some 70,000 or more – to march and protest and chant. These greedy parasites are your kind. You are one with the venal and self-serving pair carrying that Solidarity banner around Capitol Square, one with the misfits in the firemen’s uniforms and the drop-outs pretending to be retirees. Don’t let the friendly smiles fool you, all this “excuse me” and “thank you” business. These are the dregs of society, unproductive at best, vicious when aroused, in need of a firm hand. Why, if there were still a Welfare program you could all be Welfare cheats together. You have found your place, you fall into step, you stride out purposefully . . .
Damn. Felt that in the back, didn’t you?