Being There

JUST GOT BACK on the shuttle from Washington yesterday. What a hangover! My brother took me to every bar in Georgetown. Rolled into the subway afterwards, still flying. I caught a bit of the conversation in the seat next to me through the haze. Two guys, the Director of Something or Another and the Secretary of the Other Thing, were arguing about the Phillipines.

I think the Secretary had a cold, since he kept coughing all the time. Some old bag lady who somehow got on the train was trying to keep warm behind them. Their argument ran something like this:

Secretary: Well (cough), this is another fine mess you've gotten us into. Elections half a week away, and the damn Marcos machine is still intact and ready to rig the balloting.

Director: Hey, don't look at me. I gave you the scoop on Marcos six years ago. You were the one who thought he was such a fine fellow then.

Secretary: Naval bases do wonders for a personality. And those bases, among other more nuclear (cough) interests, are what I worry about now. Do you realize that sonuvabitch might actually win?

Director: Yeah, yeah. He wins, the commies gain strength, civil war, and we're in another land war in Southeast Asia. Apocalypse Again, hey? Well, I'm not all that thrilled about our "moderate alternative." She isn't exactly the "Winston Churchill of Southeast Asia" either.

Secretary: Well, at least her backers are sensible people. Good businessmen with the country's (cough) best interests in mind. In any case, you don't have to be thrilled with her. You can find some (cough) alternative to her LATER. That's your business, to find (cough) alternatives to situations. Right now, we got to find some (cough) alternative to Marcos remaining in power.

Director: Don't forget that pushy wife of his. I heard her singing "Don't Cry for Me, Manilla." Imelda may yet be el vice presidente. We have both of them to worry about.

Secretary: Any chance the sonuvabitch might finally reform? (Chuckle).

Director: (Laughing) About as much chance as a contra snowman has in Managua.

Secretary: Then exactly what are we going to do?

Bag Lady: (Piping in) Why don't ya' just blow him up?

Director: What...?

Bag Lady: You know, nuke him, like that Aquino fellow. Do unto him like he did to Aquino, I always say. Blame it on the Commies. You blame everything else on the Commies. So does he. Or get Khaddafi to do it. He'll try anything, like Mikey. He's the Antichrist ya'know. I saw it in a movie.

Secretary: (to Director) You know, there is a revolutionary Muslim minority in the Phillipines.

Director: Yes, or we could find somebody for hire loosely associated with the Communists. Marcos's dialysis machine has interesting possibilities too. I think our venerable friend here has gotten to the heart of the matter quite succinctly. With so much of the United States economic, geopolitical and military interest at stake, there is really too much to lose in the Phillipines.

Secretary: Then we are decided.

Director: Yeah, we're decided all right. I'll take care of everything. Tell the Big Man not to worry, sans detail s'il vous plait. (Turning to the Bag Lady) Excuse me miss, where do you get your political opinions?

Bag Lady: Why, the Enquirer of course. I use it to keep warm. Enquiring minds want to know.

Secretary: Would you care to join us for a drink? We would like to discuss your future in foreign policy analysis.

Bag Lady: Well, I don't know how much of a future there is going to be, what with you boys' balderdash on disarmament and all, but sure, I'd love to help you young folks out. Order me a double vodka martini.

Director: (voice trailing off as he leaves the train) The Big Guy is going to love this...