"You are one - hundred percent correct, John - your father was Liberal - AND your grandfather was a Liberal, too!" he stated emphatically - as if it were something to be proud of.
He reaffirmed what I already knew - that I was the only logical male in our families recent history.
Mr. Jensvold took a bite out of his sandwich, chewed it slowly then swallowed; he washed it down with a big gulp of hot coffee.
I winced as he poured the steaming hot coffee in his mouth. He liked his coffee hot - the hotter the better, and it fascinated me that he never burned his lips or tongue on the scalding liquid.
He swallowed then continued his story: "I grew up with Jack - your grandfather...we hung - out together - played ball together—chased girls together...hell, we enlisted in the Army together and went to Viet Nam...Jesus, in '63 we were in the same History class when the principal came over the loudspeakers and told everyone Kennedy was killed...of course, we were too young at the time to know what it meant for our country..."
He took a bite out of his sandwich, and another big gulp of the steaming coffee. I knew what was coming next, but bit my tongue and feigned to listen attentively.
"When those assholes murdered JFK they changed the entire course of America's future...number one: We wouldn't have been in Nam and 56,000 soldiers wouldn't have been killed for nothing...and after that, 'Big Business' and 'Big Government' took control and we've all suffered ever since!"
I remained silent. I was taught to keep an open mind and listen to others - no matter how wrong they were...it had also been drummed into me to respect my elders - to 'listen - and - learn' from their experiences regardless of how much they mis - remembered and distorted the facts of our great country's history.
"The last decent republican president - Eisenhower - warned us in his farewell speech...'Beware of the Military/Industrial Complex' - he knew what was coming - he understood the danger of unchecked and unquestioned, secret government power."
I think that is what amuses me most about Liberals - they treat facts like they're the truth!
"...and then along came 9/11 and the final nail to the coffin of America - absolute power for an elite group of business and government officials - unaccountable to anyone and the end of democracy as we knew it."
"You know, " I said, "...we still have elections in this country - the average person can vote for the best person for the office - "
He smiled and said, "Yes, we all can vote but who are the candidates anymore? Everyone running for office has either been handpicked by the elite, or once an independent man or woman is elected, they soon discover they have no voice - no power unless they go along with the elite...this is why you are seeing such a big turnover in Congress - many representatives and senators assume office with high hopes and grandiose plans, but they figure out real soon that the game is rigged - that they will never gain enough votes to implement positive changes."
Mr. Jensvold finished his sandwich and swallowed another mouthful of the hot coffee.
"Republicans and Tea Party people are content with the status quo; people who believe solving injustices and creating a fair playing field between business and the average citizen is not the purpose of government.
In fact, they deemed any laws protecting workers, and assisting the average citizen in their day - to - day life as intrusive, and unconstitutional.
Their mantra was 'Individual Responsibility' or as I like to call it: Every man for himself.
They felt no sense of community, or a duty to help the less fortunate. They truly believed 'that all men are created equal' and anyone can become prosperous and successful on their own thru hard work and sheer determination."
I had to say something: "Mr. Jensvold, isn't that all true? It's right there in the Declaration of Independence - 'All men are created equal' - and what's wrong with 'personal responsibility'? Shouldn't everyone be held accountable for their actions? No one is above the law, right?"
I thought I detected a flicker of sadness in his eyes. He swallowed the last of his coffee.
"John, those are all noble and inspirational ideas...goals for us as a nation and people to strive, but in reality, they have never existed."
I couldn't believe he said that. "So you don't think 'all men are created equal'?" I asked him.
"Of course not - the very notion we are all born with the same abilities and opportunities is ludicrous! John, as an example, look at our own town...you were born into a middle - class family and grew - up on the West - end of town...what if you had been born to parents on the Eastside?"
I could see where he was going with this, but wasn't sure of the legitimacy of his argument. I did like the fact he was not talking down to me; he was treating me as an intelligent human being.
"You were brought up in a nice house with modern furniture and appliances...as a child, you played in a large backyard, covered in green grass, with as many playthings and toys your folks could afford to buy...you went to newly - built schools that were well - funded and hired competent teachers...and they provided you with the latest technological tools of learning."
"I didn't have a choice who my parents would be!" I interrupted.
"Precisely!" he replied. "I call it 'the accident of birth'...imagine, if you will, you had been born to a family on the Eastside...small, box - like houses crammed together with ten - feet separating you from your neighbors...tiny, crab - grass infested backyards with almost no room for children to play with far fewer toys."
"Yes, but those people choose to live there!" I countered.
He furrowed his eyebrows and continued:
"Every year, your parents bought you new clothes for school...on the Eastside the children either wear hand - me - downs, or clothes bought at 'used' clothing stores..."
"Whose fault is that?" I asked. It was beginning to feel like he wanted me to apologize for who I was and where I was born.
Once again he ignored my question and continued:
"Most of the Eastside children survive the high rate of crime to make it to at least high school...once there, due to budget cuts, they work with inferior equipment and materials, and on top of that, many of the teachers are there only because they're not qualified to teach at better schools...now, in 10th and 11th grades many of the children begin to drop - out of school...the drop - out rate on the Eastside is near forty - percent - imagine that - forty - percent of the kids drop - out of school before they get a high school diploma... "
I thought of his phrase - 'accident of birth'...then remembered a saying I learned in Sunday school - 'There, but for the Grace of God, go I.'
"...some of the kids drop - out to find work and help pay the bills at home...others become hopelessly addicted to drugs and turn to crime to support their addiction...and more yet are either mentally or emotionally challenged and there is no money for programs to help them face their crises..."
We heard the sound of a truck backing - up to the loading dock. The shipment we were expecting had arrived.
"I guess 'Civics 101' is over for today," he said with a smile. "Oh, by the way, did you know the founding fathers of our country counted one black person as three - fifths of a human being? So much for 'all men are created equal'!"
I wondered if he was right - I never heard anything about that in school or on Fox news.
I wanted to say I appreciated him talking to me in such an adult manner - that I found his words not only interesting, but thought - provoking, as well...but I just nodded my head and smiled back at him.
It didn't take us long to unload the truck. I had now been working at the hardware store for six weeks, and the shipments kept growing smaller, and the backroom inventory had been sharply reduced.
The Wal - Mart Super Center was due to open in three - weeks, and if that wasn't bad enough, All - American Hardware surprised many of us when they announced they would build a store in Flowerton.
Once All - American opened their doors, I knew Mr. Jensvold would be forced to close his.
Judith sat on the edge of the big bed in Room 137 wondering why Mr. Bagley had instructed her to remain clothed until he arrived. This would be the first time she wasn't laying naked on the bed when he came thru the door.
Her mind wandered back to simpler times...when her husband Jeffrey was alive, and the two of them with their son and two daughters lived safely and comfortably in their two - story home, oblivious to the sometimes cruel nature of the outside world.
She sadly shook her head at her transformation from soccer and PTA mom; and a loving and devoted wife into the person she had become - a woman who sold her body for sex - a prostitute, or as it was now called: a Personal Assistant.
She couldn't grasp what had taken place in America in a few short weeks.
Two - months ago it was illegal for a woman to do what she is doing, but now, it was becoming almost commonplace.
Scouring the employment section of the paper every day, she saw fewer - and - fewer 'real' job listings, and more - and - more notices for 'Personal Assistants.'
The world has gone absolutely crazy, she thought; when a motivated, hard - working woman cannot find a decent job at a livable wage and has to resort to doing this in order to pay the bills and feed her family - something is terribly, horribly wrong!
My God - what has happened to this country?
She heard the door unlock and sat upright. To her surprise, Mr. Bagley's secretary, Mary, entered the room first followed by her boss.
Judith and Mary had been classmates in high school, and had over the years run into each other around town and would chat, but they had never been close friends.
The sight of Mary gave Judith a momentary surge of hope. Why would she be here unless it concerned business? Maybe Mr. Bagley has a 'real' job for me!
Judith's positive feeling quickly dissipated when she studied her friend's sullen face and downcast eyes.
Uh - oh, she said to herself as a cold shiver raced up her spine. She prayed to God that what she was thinking was not about to happen.