The Kult of Kemp

HIS EYES WERE glazed, and he had a smile on his face as he sat down to have brunch with me. But perhaps it was just because I hadn't seen this old high school friend in quite some time.

"How're you doin' Bob?" I asked between scoops of Fruit Loops.

"Just great, Jon, really super," he said firmly, leaving no room for questions, as he dug into his heaping plate of sausage and eggs.

"Good," I said.

There was a momentary lull in the conversation.

Finally I asked him, "What did you do this summer Bob?"

"I found the light Jon," Bob responded, as his glazed eyes seemed to look through my own. "I found the key to life."

"Gee that's, um, super," I said, expecting to hear how a nice Jewish boy from New York had turned to Jesus.

"I worked for Jack Kemp, Jon. You should too," Bob said as he leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest and began to tell me the story of why he joined the "Kult of Kemp."

"Opportunity, Jon, that's what makes this country great," Bob told me. "That's what Jack Kemp is all about. He understands that America doesn't have to retrench; we have to progress. There is no limit to growth as long as we believe in our own potential and this great land of ours and..."

"And Jack Kemp?" I asked.

"Let me tell you a story, Jon," Bob said quickly, cutting me off. "When Jack Kemp was a freshman in college he went out for the football team and was smaller than most of the other people on the playing field. But the coach called him over and said, `Jack, out of all the players here, you're the one that's going to make it to the pros.'''

"So Jack worked hard. He believed in himself, he believed in his coach, he believed in football. And, you know what? The next year he grew, gained some weight and eventually became a great pro player," Bob said. "But you know what the funny thing is Jon?" he asked.

"No, Bob. What?"

"The funny thing, Jon, is that the coach told all the guys that, and those that believed in their unlimited potential did well," Bob explained.

"That's what Jack Kemp's message is: Believe in yourself, America. We're great," Bob told me and about half the dining hall.

I could see the fervor came from deep within his soul, and I shuddered as I began to comprehend his message. All I had to do was believe in the power of our free society, and good things would happen.

As if he was reading my mind, Bob stopped my thoughts short. "Don't get too excited Jon." Bob warned. "There is another ingredient--hard work. The Japanese believe in themselves, but they also work hard. We've forgotten that in America.

As I pondered this new twist to the message of Kemp, I must have had a sour look on my face, because Bob felt the need to alleviate my fears.

"It's not that tough, Jon," he said, much to my relief. "Look, let me tell you another story. O.K.?"

"O.K.," I said.

"Great," Bob said. "A few years ago when the negativity of Carter and Mondale covered the nation in a great shadow of non-productivity, the great concern here and throughout the world was too little food," he exlained. "Now, you know what the problem is--the problem is too much food."

"Wow."

Bob was pleased, he was close to getting someone else to join the "Kult of Kemp." "You know, Jon, when Kemp is elected president, there'll be two VCRs in every house," he asserted.

I believe.

The name of this friend has been changed to keep shame from his mother.