In the late 90’s I was an upstate New York college transplant living in the Burlington area doing what I could to get myself an education. By working a lot of different jobs to support myself and keep the number of student loans to a minimum, it was all I could do to stay afloat. The job I had at the time this story took place was as a salesperson at a used sporting goods store located in a suburban strip mall. It was run by a really kind and decent family who were fair to their employees but after a morning full of classes and an eight hour shift, it was enough to wear me down to the frayed and cynical ends.
Three minutes before we are set to lock the door, cash out the registers and then figure out what was for dinner, in walks this elder gentleman with thick glasses in company with another person who was considerably younger. Eager to help these customers in tailored suits with what they came in for and get them moving along was all I could seemingly muster. I customarily asked if there was anything I may help him find. The reply was no, just came in to have a look around. That browsing seemed to last an eternity even though it was probably only half a minute.
I countered by saying Sir, we are about to close. Is there anything I can help you find? If not then I have to ask you to leave. Ignoring my invite to leave, he insisted on having a look around the store again — used hockey equipment and cross country skis must’ve been real interesting to him, or so I sarcastically thought. I started tailing him as he meandered through our modestly sized store, talking in soft inaudible tones to his colleague. I began to ask him once more if I could help locate anything! a keychain, some abec 5 bearings for his rollerblades, AA batteries (land in Montana!) whatever you want, buy it so I can please close the store (full wahhmbulance! brigade here). At the peak of my frustrated inability to help this customer, my co-worker comes out of the back room and says to me in a room filling voice that I’m sure we can stay open a few extra minutes to allow our congressman to have a look around.
That moment and those few words had great impact on me. After years of reflection I can see how I have changed because of it, learning that politicians may act self interested and at times rude towards others, but that perception isn’t always the reality we live in. Within that revelatory light there began a great conversation between myself and Bernie, who proceeded to ask me how many loans I had to put me through college, if the job I was working was enough to afford all of it (it wasn’t even close) and what he thought about people like myself who worked full time and took classes full time as well. I came away from it feeling like I had learned that things weren’t always two sided and that people who worked towards uniting others in common goals were far more appealing than those who would choose to scapegoat and demonize others.
I never bought into the They, Those and Others arguments for life’s ailments, it never made sense to me how such prejudicial generalities could be used to explain away pretty much anything, from Welfare Queens soaking up funds that would otherwise fill potholes in the street to people who have babies strictly for the tax break? (pour me a double WTF neat for that one please). The one that always ate at me was how our highly exalted active service members are commonly praised in effusive ways while in the Service yet treated as outcasts and ignored once they officially become a citizen again, earning the dubious title of Veteran. Like that means you never lived life before you entered the Service. Or that a good job waits for you once you’re out but at a fraction of what you earned in the already low paying military. Starve wages lead to myopic thinking,for some it leads to pointlessness, homelessness, and for some real unfortunate souls, suicide.
For the unemployment rate that we see today with Vets, it astounds me there isn’t any meaningful transition for them back into civilian life supported by the government. The rampant homelessness among Vets is indicative of this void they enter after the Service and I see that Bernie is attempting to help this cause by getting more of our citizens to vote by drafting bills to make Election Day a national holiday (www.congress.gov/...) but I think this legislation isn’t tying together two obvious needs. What if Veterans Day was turned into Election Day? The 11th of November is already a holiday on the books, does anyone really care that they vote on the first Tuesday of November? By defending our democracy’s right to choose, voting is one of the most sacred tenets we who choose to exercise it hold dear. Why hasn’t there been anyone who can tie the connection between putting Vets to work by becoming FEC ambassadors, poll workers, bus drivers, line organizers — all things election — but run by our proud Vets, seeing the democracy they put their lives on the line to defend, in action?
Look, let’s be honest, I’m not the brightest LED in the screen you’re reading this on, I tried to throw a sitting congressman out of my store because I didn’t bother to take the time to ask who he was or if there was something beyond a new set of skate laces that he would like so we can quickly part ways. I don’t however have to be bright, but I do know that by sharing my observations and thoughts on this topic might be worth your time to think about as well and if any real possibility exists around making it a reality, how could it happen in this current hyper-partisan atmosphere? Thanks for taking the time to read this. Cheers.
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