Growing Up Then and Now

Chapter 7

Skip’s Story

     Morning came with two surprises:  Susie had come out to spend the night in Huck’s tent and Rocky had woken up early and discovered the marijuana patch.  Smoking pot got Rocky and Skip telling stories about each other.

     Skip was our unofficial leader, the one who had found the Land Yacht and brought together this version of The Merry Pranksters.  He didn’t look like the politician he was.  In fact, he hadn’t looked much like a politician back when he was one.  Cheap suits, long hair, last name Dewar, nicknamed “Scotchy” by other legislators (making fun about his preference for Passport Scotch), he was admired by all for his authenticity and earnestness.

     The lady farmers (not what they called themselves) were hospitable, but after a day and a half, even Susie was finding the conversations a bit of a drag – returning so often to who was seeing whom in “Lesbian Seattle” and who might be coming up to the farm for a visit this weekend.  We kind of kept our own company.  The weather outside was breezy but nice.  The apple farm bordered the Skagit River a little east of Interstate 5 along Cove Road. It was just a half mile hike through rolling hillsides from the farm house to the river, but for most of us one walk was enough – Sally regretting she left her fishing pole in the Land Yacht.

By the second night, more than a couple of us were for heading back to Seattle first thing in the morning, leaving this love nest and the murder mystery behind.  (All except Huck – who wanted to stay – with Susie.)

     Skip said it was always a toss-up which he loved most, politics or baseball.  It was through baseball he made enough of a name for himself to win an upstart campaign against an establishment incumbent.  Skip still looked like a ballplayer, a slender 6’2” with long arms and a great butt (if you asked the ladies), and always wearing a baseball cap.

     Never married, always kind, nary a bad word about anybody, Skip was such a nice guy that – to the ladies – he came across more like a brother than a possible paramour.  When asked, he’d say he was still waiting for the right woman to come along. 

     Skip got elected to office as a 38-year-old Democrat, but a reformer and strong proponent of changing election laws to give third parties more of an opportunity.  Arguing for Ranked Choice Voting laws, Skip would say:

          “Having more choices is good.  Heck, when I was a kid, we only had three TV channels to choose from.  Who would want to go back to that?  But our current voting laws are rigged in favor of a two-party system.  Third party candidates have little chance – viewed as spoilers mostly, wasted votes.  Tell you what, folks, if we could vote for a third-party candidate without it being a wasted vote, we could end political gridlock in one election cycle.”

     When he retired from the legislature, Skip was quoted in the paper saying, “It’s gotten way too partisan, too much posturing, gaming for the next election, rather than trying to do good things for people.”  After retiring, Skip returned to his first love, baseball, being an announcer for the local minor league team.  When his doctor buddy Max proposed they go on a long fishing trip around the country, Skip was quick to see that as an opportunity to take the nation’s political pulse.           

     Skip’s best friend since college, Rocky, was notorious for coming up with answers for “What is Fun?”   Rocky started life in a John Bircher family but became Skip’s official Treasurer when Skip ran for office as a Democrat.  Rocky had a cackling laugh, oftentimes accompanied by a faint smile, meaning you were the joke.  He had a barbed tongue, which we tended to notice more than his large belly.  Rocky made his living gambling and playing bridge professionally.  Jeans, a jean jacket and aviator glasses were his trademark – the Dr. Hunter S. Thompson look.  

      After discovering the marijuana patch, while eating breakfast with just the guys, under blue skies, Rocky offered up one of his edgy comments about the people in his life, especially the ones he liked: “Come on you guys, let’s stick around, get stoned with these lady lovers.  Maybe pick up some pointers on what really turns a girl on.” 

     Huck agreed with sticking around (thinking about Susie), but everyone else was for getting back on the road.  And then the third surprise of the morning.  As we finished packing, Susie got back on the bus!  She said she was having too much fun to get off, whipped out a baggie and told us that her daughter, Stephanie, had said it’s perfectly legal . . . “but we gotta smoke some right away or we’ll be over the legal limit.”

     “You know you guys,” she said, “you all kinda make me feel like Cinderella, and I wanna have some fun before this carriage turns into a pumpkin or we all end up in jail.”

SECOND PART – Vying for Susie’s Attention

     “Well, college friends,” Patty starts, answering Susie’s question, “I knew Max in college, and we all played softball together on Sunday mornings  (taking a swing to imitate her batting stance)  . . . and we kept on doing that after we graduated, and then Skip started showing up . . . ”

     “Yeah,” Huck jumps in (aiming to regain Susie’s attention), “Patty got me playing softball, but the big thing is – we met when my band had a regular gig at the Longhorn Bar back in Minneapolis.  One night she thought I was so good she bought me a drink, and we kept on talking all night . . . and don’t you think, Patty, it was pretty good . . . while it lasted.  You know Susie, I’m a lucky guy – all my exes are still in love with me.”

     “No,” Patty was quick with, “Don’t make it sound like we might still be rolling in the hay – not true – I admit once upon a time you knew how to show a girl a good time.  Here’s the thing Susie, Huck loves everybody, if you know what I mean . . . and we all love Huck.”

     “Okay, so who’s single, and who isn’t, on this bus?” Susie asked looking at all of us.

     “Well,” Patty continues, with a smile in Huck’s direction, “it depends upon how you define ‘single,’ if it’s Huck’s way, then everybody is  – well, maybe not Max, now that he’s hooked back up with Eloise.  I’ve been married twice, once divorced, and happy living by myself with my 25 year-old daughter . . . ”

     Susie jumps in, “Geez Patty, kinda like me – still married, but without a man in your life.”

     “Yeah, well, but I’ve got all these guys around me,” Patty replies, looking towards Rocky driving and Skip checking the map to see how far it is to Utah.

      Rocky looks in the rear-view mirror towards Steve: “The way it sounds, Steve, I must have known you before you even learned how to kiss a girl – no, just kidding.  But Skip here, shit, we’ve known each other more than 50 years, starting in college, playing poker, partying, smokin’ pot.  Different college though, than Max and Patty.”

     Continuing his comments in Steve’s direction, Rocky goes on, “Steve, good thing you didn’t know me and Skip back then.  Probably never would have become a lawyer; instead, a drop-out like me, having too much fun doing things like kissing girls the way they want to be kissed.  And then you never would’ve had to been my freebie lawyer getting me out of trouble having too much fun.”

     “Don’t get the wrong impression, Susie,” Skip interjects.  “Yeah, true, Rocky’s always had a great definition for what is fun, but listen — Max is a doctor — Steve’s a lawyer — and I’ve been a legislator . . . so, yeah, well, . . .  we’re all perfect gentlemen . . . well, maybe not Huck.”

     That got a pretty good chuckle from Patty and Sally, but not Huck.  “Well,” Sally says, “I can vouch for Max at least, but I haven’t known the rest of these guys for very long.  I was Max’s investment counselor.  We both love fishing – he even took me ice fishing in Canada on his float plane.  A couple months ago we were at the same dinner party and he tells me about this fishing trip he and Skip are planning – and my husband hates fishing – so here I am . . . and, by the way, we’ve only gone fishing once so far!” 

     “You’re saying, Sally, you never knew any of these guys, except Max, before you got on the bus!?” Susie asks incredulously, “and yet you wanted to come?”

     “Max told me one of the rules for the trip is that anybody can bail anytime – and still retain their part ownership of the Land Yacht . . . but, yeah Susie, it’s good to have another female on board  – maybe more nights staying in motels with hot showers.”

     Sally still looked more like the businesswoman she was than the avid fisherwoman she was hoping to be.  Prim and proper at 5’5”, always manicured, with jet black hair (probably dyed) neatly pinned down, she preferred V-necked cashmere sweaters over sweat shirts.  It was easy to guess she might prefer bubble baths to out-houses.  Sally also wore a wedding ring, but none of us really knew her story yet.  She was always twisting it.

     As storm clouds started showing-up over the mountain tops in the west, Steve continued vying for Susie’s attention.  Lowering his voice, fingering his moustache, turning towards Susie, he starts again: “Long story short, Susie.  Yes, I am still married . . . but like you, right?  Just on paper.  Jodie and I get along okay, but we’re both talking about maybe moving on . . . I’m single . . .”

     “I heard that!” Huck interrupts, “You’re not single.  You’re still living together, right?  And Jodie’s a real babe, don’t tell me . . .” 

     “Dry up, Huck.  You’re too short for Susie anyhow.” 

     Slightly changing the subject, Steve continued his pursuit of Susie: “I’ve known Skip and Rocky a long time.  I was a big reason Skip won his first campaign for office – was a big donor and the campaign’s legal advisor.  Got to know them playing in the same fantasy football league.  I liked taking Rocky’s money betting on football.  But then, you know, wife and kids came first.  Now the kids are gone, and I’m mostly single again.”  And then very quietly he says to Susie, “You still haven’t told me about your first kiss . . .”

     “Spin the bottle – what’s to tell,” Susie said.

Chapter 4

We Make Headlines

     Eloise arrived back in town to teach her Monday morning classes, and invited Max and Skip to give a presentation on the history of third parties in the United States.  Skip talked about his time as a legislator back in Minnesota and his failed attempt to get “fusion” to be a constitutional right – a political party should be able to pick anyone they want to be their candidate, even if already some other party’s candidate, based on the First Amendment Right of Association.

      Skip explained, “Here’s the idea – it sends a message – put up somebody to our liking, that we can vote for too, or we’ll run somebody against you.  Find out which party line gets the most votes.”  Skip recommended the class read Andrew Yang’s book, Forward – Notes on the Future of Our Democracy.

    One of Eloise’s students asked if Eloise was running for school board as a Yang Ganger because the two major parties kept running candidates who were too extreme on the issues.  Eloise said she hoped voters would take the time to study each candidate before voting.  “The more candidates the better,” she said.  

     Later that day a reporter called Eloise and informed her that one of her opponents had issued a media release saying she was using class time to campaign, and the school board should fire her.  Eloise said that was not true, but the story in the paper the next day had a picture of our Land Yacht and its bumper stickers, including that 60s one “Question Authority,” and the reporter, without checking the facts, referred to us “as a bunch of old hippies, outside agitators, in town to stir up trouble.” 

     Up until then, not much attention was being paid to the upcoming school board election, but now there was an uproar about it.  We tried to cheer Eloise up recalling the old political saw about getting your name out there anyway you can. 

     The day the news story hit – a mild, blue skies, September day – we started being followed around town by guys in pick-up trucks, the kind with rifle racks and real rifles on the back window.  Later that day, back at our waitress-friend Susie’s place, one of those pick-ups pulled over and parked, and then a second one pulled up.  Susie came out with a couple of us.  The passenger-side guy in the second pick-up rolled down his window and shouted, “Get out of town!  NOW!.”  He was wearing a Trump “MAGA” cap. 

     Fortunately, the driver in the first pick-up recognized Susie from the Chat & Chew as a “sorta-friend,” and Susie suggested, “Hey guys, let’s head over to the Chat & Chew for coffee and talk things through.  I’m buying.” 

    A few minutes later, we were all in the back dining room at the Chat & Chew, us Minnesota left-wingers, these Montana cowboy types, Susie and Eloise, who arrived after school let out.  Eloise looked younger than her age (64, we later learned).  Coming from teaching, her hair was still up in a bun, her blouse buttoned to the top, but in a skirt that showed off her nice legs – which the men in the room surely noticed.  She had a great smile, and gleaming eyes.  She knew how to look right at you, and win you over – a natural politician.

     Susie steered us to some common ground being anti-authoritarian from the left and the right.  We found we shared a common desire to bring down the corporate duopoly controlling the country.  Skip agreed with them that average working-class Americans had good reason to be pissed about their government, but pinned the blame on Reagan’s failed trickle-down economics . . . and race baiting.

     “Yeah, maybe,” the guy with the MAGA cap said, “but what really pisses me off is the way that so many non-Americans, Africans, Latinos, whatever, come over here and got more rights than we’ve got.” 

     Eloise got the Montanans to agree freedom should include reading anything you want (which is what got her to run for office) and Susie got one of them to nod when she said “Do no harm to others should include stopping corporate polluters from poisoning the water or raping the wilderness.”  

     Skip referred back to the politics of the 1960s and ‘70s, when, with good reason, patriotic Americans started losing faith with a government that couldn’t be trusted, saying, “Our institutional systems, our common purpose – our sense of patriotism – to fight evil and corruption were stronger in the Watergate era.  It’s much more frayed today.  We need to be careful about authoritarianism.”

     Yes, we thought, an open–minded, intelligent conversation, all–around, although there was total disagreement on what reasonable gun safety laws should look like.  We did agree that not having armed mobs storming the Capitol was something all patriotic Americans should get behind.

     The Montanans, knowing we were just passing through and leaving soon, said farewell on friendly terms.  Later, we heard from Gregory, and his teenage buddies we met the first day, that the word on the street, amongst skateboarders, Zoomers and Trumpers, was to vote for Eloise. 

     “Wow!” Skip said as we were leaving town, “Not just stirring up imaginations across the generational divide, even the political divide!”

     One more thing about our time in Boulder:  While some went fishing in the Boulder River, Skip, Rocky and Steve took in a murder trial going on at the local courthouse.  It seemed insignificant at the time, but soon proved otherwise.