How My Mind Works
I was at the Grey Lodge in the Mayfair section of Northeast Philadelphia last Friday for Friday the Firkenteenth, when the lodge taps gazillions of firkens of high quality, high-potency local and micro-brewed beers, sitting at a table with Christina and talking with a complete stranger, an older guy, probably around fifty. He was from New Jersey, waiting on his kid, who was coming from Penn State. The conversation started as we were pored over the menu debating between mussels, fish and chips, or the duck spring rolls, and soon segued pleasantly from food to beer to politics.
“You live close to Center City? Do you ever get that bulletin from the, what’re they called, the Drinking Liberally folks?”
We laughed, and I introduced myself as the host. “I’m the guy that writes those things!” I said, and we all had a good laugh, and began making fun of George Bush and ranting about the state of the country. Christina brought up Jesus Camp, a documentary we’d seen recently that scared the crap out of us. As we were talking another couple squeezed into the table next to us, and pretty soon the six of us were yapping away.
The couple came from Delaware, and I expressed my condolences. “I have to deal with Arlen Specter,” I groaned, “but you poor guys have to deal with Joe Biden.”
“Yeah, I hate that guy,” the fellow said nodding. “The only thing I hate worse than George Bush is fuckin’ liberals.”
“I wouldn’t call Biden a liberal,” I said. “he talks a good game, but at the end of the day he stands up for nothing but corporations and the credit industry. You can lay the blame for these ridiculous credit card rates between him and that other bastard Tom Carper. Besides, I’m more of a lefty than a liberal. All the freakin’ empty compromising…”
“Well, either way… I’m a libertarian, and don’t believe in anything that’s going on in this country right now.”
I raised my glass: “Then we have some common ground,” I said, “We both hate George W. Bush!” And there were hears-hears all around.
“So anyway, Jesus Camp,” Christina continued. The older man’s son walked up, and pulled up a chair. “It’s terrifying. These people are just… just brainwashing their kids!”
“Nothing against Christians, or any other religion” I said. “But these fundamentalists are just cuckoo-bananas. Fucking NUTSO.”
“Yeah, I don’t like those Christians,” the libertarian added. “Those people… but you know how you have to deal with them?
“You have to cut it off at the source. You know who Jesus came from. Get rid of those people, and bang, no more Christians.” He made a slashing motion with his hand.
I tired to keep my eyebrows from raising.
“I don’t have much time for liberals or those fundamentalists,” the guy continued. “I’m a libertarian, but mostly… mostly I’m a National Socialist.” The guy’s girlfriend didn’t bat an eye.
It’s hard not to jump when someone professes Nazism has a personal philosophy, but no one likes to make a scene: I saw Christina’s brow furrow nearly imperceptibly, and I saw her glance at me. “I don’t like the way this conversation is going,” I said with a smile, and pointed toward the older man and his son. “I think I’m going to talk to these people over here”. I turned my back on the couple and began talking to the kid who had just sat down with us. “So, how long was your drive?”
Christina cast me a look and muttered, “Did he just say he’s a Nazi?”
“He sure did,” I muttered backd. Who knew if he was serious or just trying to get us to butt out of his date: if it was the latter, there are better ways to say “butt out.” “Let’s just talk to these people over here,” I muttered back, nodding my head at the pleasant liberals to our north.
“I came down from State College,” the kid went on. “It’s a little out of my way, but Dada and I are spending the weekend together.”
“What do you do up there?” Christina asked.
“I’m getting my degree in organic chemistry,” he said.
“Any idea what you want to do with that?” she asked.
“Nah, not yet,” the kid said. “I have another year.”
“You know what you should do?” I said. “You should use that degree to become a mad scientist. Invent some sick fucking weapon or chemical that you could use to hold the world hostage!” He laughed.
“The best thing is,” I added, “you could make a pretty good living doing that. Even the minimum you demanded, say $10 million dollars, would have you set for life!
“I could be the low-cost mad scientist villain,” he said laughing.
“Serious!” I said. “And you’d probably only have to do it once or twice, and you’d be living LARGE! Fly into some city on your hovering saucer like the Green Goblin, threaten to use some chemical to blow up half the East Coast, get the cash, and go to some tropical island or something for the next 20 years!” Everybody laughed, and we ordered more beers. At some point, I ended up in line downstairs waiting for a refill next to the Nazi’s girlfriend. “Hey!” she said smiling, as she squeezed by me. “Long line, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Long.” Maybe she wasn’t a National Socialist? Maybe she didn’t know what that means?
About a half hour or so later Christina and I parted ways with the old guy and his son, hoping to bump into each other at Drinking Liberally in the next week or so. We drove home laughing about the intellectual incoherence of someone claiming to be both a libertarian and a National Socialist. Was he serious? He couldn’t be! But he’s from Delaware, and they have a reputation.Do they? I would say I know a dozen people from Delaware, and a third have weird attitudes, not to smear the state. And then there’s Biden…
That Sunday, we went over to visit with Somegirl and Richard, who were house-sitting in Bala with a non-chlorinated pool. It’s an oasis just across the city line where we head every couple of weeks: just a backyard, but semi-shaded by tall cedar pines and a high picket fence. The house itself is lovely. As we were swimming, another couple, Mike and Ann, dropped by. They were from Narberth, and I asked if they knew my friend Nik’s family, but they didn’t.
The sun was burning down hot, but was dissipated just enough by the cedars that you could sit out for forty minutes or so, slathered with sun screen, before jumping into the pool for a few laps to cool down. We drank some beers, smoked a few. Yakked about politics, movies. Mike and Christina talked about her search for work, the difficulties she was having, and possible connections.
“What about Dennis?” Ann called as she bobbed by on the inner tube. “He’d be good to talk to!”
“Do you do historic preservation?” Christina asked Mike. “You seem to both know people..”
“No,” Mike said. “Dennis is just a friend. Ann and I are property owners, investors.
“And,” he added, “I’m an inventor.”
“Really?” I said from the shallow end of the pool. “You invent stuff?”
“Yeah,” he said shrugging and grinning shyly.
“You know what you should make?” I said. “You should invent a death ray. Like, some totally planet-destroying death ray!” Mike laughed. “I’m serious, I know just the guy who would buy it,” I added.
“Hey Christina,” I called across the pool where she was taking a dip. “What was that kid’s name from the other night. The one I was telling should consider becoming a mad scientist?
“Mike, I’m just trying to get you some business,” I went on. “Your death ray and this kid’s mad scientist powers could make a real impact, you should think about it. I may see them this weekend so I’ll keep you posted.”
I guess that makes me weird. But that’s how my mind works.
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July 20th, 2007 at 1:04 am
[...] Clark Link to Article joe biden How My Mind Works » Posted at Brendan Calling - I hear the voices, [...]