Tucson Sammy

Unlike the 1981 movie “My dinner with Andre”, I came away from my luncheon with Ed happy, smiling, and with new hope.

I met my friend Ed Kahn many moons ago through the Pima County Libertarian Party. At that time, Ed was the Libertarian candidate for Mayor of Tucson, running against Molly McKasson and Uncle Bob Walkup. He did not win, by the way, but he did have lots of fun “shooting from the hip” while his opponents muttered platitudes in an effort to please – or at least not offend – more Tucsonans than their competitors.

Ed is always taking a shot at evil, whether as a candidate for public office, or as a constituent writing letters to our public servants explaining the illegality and/or immorality of their latest scheme. Ed is a semi-retired attorney who lives both in Tucson and Prescott.

We dined Chars Thai Restaurant – my favorite for Thai food. Ed joined me at the table with a law text in hand. He is considering filing suit against Pima County for illegally financing private entities with taxpayer money. The text had a number of bookmarks that identified the relevant sections of the Arizona Constitution.

At this point, one might imagine Ed as a mean, frustrated, old man, and were he an atheist leftist, he might fit that description; but Ed is none of those things. Quite the contrary, Ed approaches the world with the joyful, light hearted manner of a deeply religious man. We discuss the current state of affairs with smiles and laughter.

Being a religious libertarian myself, I suppose that it is this approach to the world that I understand and admire in Ed.

While the socialists may be carrying the day in Pima County, they are losing their “treasure in heaven.”

I attended a meeting of Ward III Neighbors the other day. There were about twenty people there, mostly representatives of neighborhood associations. There were three speakers representing the government of Pima County – County Administrator Chuck Huckleberry, and Supervisors Richard Elias and Sharon Bronson. There was no agenda for the meeting. The County folks took questions on any and all topics.

There was something unnerving about the speakers. They seemed awfully laid-back, as if they had not a care in the world. They were happy to speak, and they had no concern over the direction of the conversation. Now, I don’t know how many of these things you’ve attended, but I’ll tell ya, politicians are never carefree when speaking to constituents. Even after an election day victory, there is still some left-over energy, and fertilizer to be shoveled.

Imagine President Clinton with a nose full of toot, a pair of sixteen year old twins under his desk, and a fist full of three hundred thousand dollar checks from his overseas speaking engagements, and you’ll get the idea.

It took about an hour of smiling discussions of the Regional Transportation Plan, the upcoming bond election to fund new psychiatric facilities at Kino Hospital, and Richard Elias taking a cheap shot at Randy Graff (then explaining that he did not want to take cheap shots at anyone), before they slid into the source of their euphoria.

The politicos freely admitted that the recent sharp rise in residential property values has led to an increase in valuations, which will lead to huge increases in property tax revenues – without any new taxes or increases in rates! Dang! It just does not get any better for an elected official or administrator! Suddenly, without having to lift a finger, they get a big pile of money without any pesky constituents bugging them about it.

I was tempted to raise my hand and ask if anyone in the county, or anywhere else, thought of lowering the tax rates to keep the revenues the same and avoid this major tax increase…but…they looked so happy, so contented sitting there, I just didn’t have the heart to rain on their parade.

Yes it’s true, the usual suspects are at it again. This time they intend to add another eighty cents to, can you guess, cigarettes and other tobacco products. More flesh will be ripped from the bones of the nicotine junkies.

They considered taxing alcohol products, but this will be a referendum, and too many people drink. Smokers are few enough now, and politically incorrect, so the commies can pretty much have their way with them. You know, it might be simpler, and more honest, frankly, to just round them up and send them to labor camps – commies are “down” with the labor camp thing; besides, they’re just smokers.

Can you guess who the beneficiaries will be? Of course, the children. In this case, the smoker money will be used to prepare little children for kindergarten. No, really, I’m not making this up. According to an article in the Arizona Republic, “The money would be used for services such as dental screenings, literacy programs and transportation to quality preschool programs.” Gosh, are kids supposed to know how to read before entering kindergarten? At least all those lines, stretching over the horizon, of kids waiting to see the oral surgeon will disappear.

They say the tax will raise fifteen million dollars a year. I had no idea that there were so many parentless children in Arizona.

The scheme is called “First Things First”, and will be on the ballot in November if the Bashas have their way. Joining the Bashas in support of the scheme are Jack Jewett, Lattie Coor, and Tucson’s own RINO mayor Uncle Bob Walkup.

They need to collect 124,000 signatures by July. Pray that they don’t.

Mission Bay in San Diego is a huge aquatic park. It has many coves, and serves everyone from sailors to Jet Ski riders. As you might imagine, it is chock-full of marinas, which are some of my favorite places.

Recently, my friend Jason and I were walking down a sidewalk on the south side of Quivera Basin in Mission Bay Park. The sidewalk connected a couple of marinas, and other businesses that served the boating public. It was near dusk, and I was enjoying a view that included wood shingled buildings, trees, and lawns.

I noticed a man near the sidewalk who was standing at the base of a flagpole. He appeared to be in his fifties. He wore glasses, navy work clothes, and work boots. In his hands was the end of a huge American flag. He was slowly gathering the material with a look of grave consternation on his face.

I recognized the problem, and approached him. “May we help you with the flag?” I offered.

He turned to me and said, “They sent me to do this alone. You need more than one person.”

“Yes,” I said, “It’s a two man job.” He allowed me to take hold of the flag.

Jason, a student of the Spanish language, spoke to the man in that language. The man’s face brightened with surprise and delight. He pointed at Jason and said, “Habla Espanol?”

Jason modestly responded, “Un poco.”

I pointed to myself and said, “Tambien!” more out of hope than humility.

The man pointed at me, now truly shocked, and said, “Habla Espanol?”

“Un poco, tambien,” I responded - somewhat concerned that I might be put to the test.

Jason and the man chatted in Spanish while they worked together disconnecting the flag from the halyard. The conversation ceased when the flag was held out flat with Jason at one end, and I at the other. I did not need to ask him if he knew the drill. With solemn focus, and in silence, we folded the flag in half the long way, then in half again. I was at the end with the stars, so Jason folded the corner across then forward, across then forward, repeating the pattern until our hands met. All three of us tugged at the material to make the job as neat as possible.

The man asked from where we came. Jason explained that I lived in Tucson, while he lived and worked in San Diego. The man asked Jason where he worked. Jason explained that he worked in an expensive bicycle shop. The man asked what the bikes cost.

“Cinco a dies mil,” said Jason.

“Por uno!” I added.

“Ay, c—–!” the man exclaimed, showing some skepticism.

We three yucked it up a little longer, then I presented the flag to the man, and he accepted it. We bid each other, “Adios.”

I am truly sick of all the “diversity” crap. “Diversity” is billed as an enhancement of our cultural experience, but more often is used as a wedge to divide people. It is our commonality that binds us together - our love of country, and our love of each other as individuals.