After the dog and I returned from our daily trespass on Union Pacific Railroad property one afternoon last week, the answering machine had a call-back message from Ananias Ziegler, media relations director for the Committee That Really Runs America.
“Do you want to join our program of spontaneous authentic grass-roots activism to intimidate and shout down the evil fascist-communist-socialist death-panel supporters at the congressional town-hall meetings?” he asked after the usual pleasantries.
“I do have some experience at being obnoxious at public gatherings,” I confessed. “But our congressman hasn’t scheduled any such meetings yet. Plus, Rep. Doug Lamborn is a hard-core Republican. If Obama walked on water, Lamborn would just say it’s because he doesn’t know how to swim. So I can’t see much point in it.”
Ziegler explained, “This isn’t about changing congressional minds, at least not in your right-thinking district. It’s about theater. We need to show that there are people who support the finest health care system in the world.”
I objected. “If ours is so great, why don’t other countries try to emulate it? Have you ever heard of any politician, in any other country, campaigning to install an American-style health-care system?”
Ziegler stayed his course. “If you’d like, we can provide a sign you can carry. It will look authentically hand-lettered, but it will also show up well on TV and YouTube.”
“What would it say?” I asked.
“You have a choice, of course,” he replied. “How about ‘Don’t let Nancy Pelosi kill my grandma’?”
“Too late,” I said. “Both my grandmothers are long dead. Somebody might ask, and I wouldn’t want to lie.”
“No wonder you’re so obscure,” Ziegler said. “If you want to amount to anything, you’ve got to get past that. Joe the Plumber wasn’t a plumber, Sarah Palin quits to show she’s no quitter, and you know about Mark Sanford’s family values. How about this sign: ‘Stop liberal Dems from rationing my health care!’?”
“But health care is already rationed,” I pointed out, “since there’s not an infinite supply. Mostly it’s rationed on the basis of money.”
Ziegler growled. “OK, wise guy, come up with one of your own.”
“Maybe you have some leftovers from 1994,” I said. “I liked ‘Keep the government out of my medicine cabinet.’ ”
“I know you did,” Ziegler agreed, “but the problem is that you take that slogan seriously. What would result if we put thousands of Drug Enforcement Administration agents out of work?”
“A free country?” I answered. “Never mind. How about ‘Save my right to go bankrupt because an uninsured texting motorist hit me while I was walking across the street’?”
“That’s too long for a sign,” Ziegler objected.
I tried a new tack. “Suppose you gave me some money that I could invest in health-insurance stocks.”
Ziegler interrupted. “That’s not how we work here.”
I made my pitch. “But then I could carry a sign like ‘Don’t let a public option destroy my retirement.’ ”
“I don’t get it,” Ziegler confessed.
“It’s simple,” I explained. “When you get right down to it, a private health-insurance company makes money by denying claims. There’s no profit in paying medical bills. A public option might change that, and then the private companies’ profits would drop, and their dividends and stock prices would decline, and my hypothetical retirement fund would take a big hit.”
“I see your point,” Ziegler said. “But it’s not something you can shout at a meeting. I’m afraid we’re just going to have to leave you out of this one.”
Ed Quillen (ekquillen@gmail.com) of Salida is a freelance writer and history buff, and a frequent contributor to The Post.
