Conversation w/Dooley--Part 2

I strolled across town last week and talked to my friend Buddy Dooley. He recorded our discussion and sent this in an e-mail. I've tried to edit his spelling errors. There were so many I may have missed a few.

TS: Where were we before you started drinking Saturday night?

BD: My notes say we were talking about voting.

TS: Ah, yes. That...

BD: I said voting changes little.

TS: Yes, you're right. The big picture doesn't fluctuate at all. Corporations steal the show and that is a result of the two-party system. The question is how to take big money out of the process and allow a true pluralism to unfold. Were that to happen, you would see the overall voting numbers go up. If people believed that actual representation was the norm then they might sense that their concerns are being addressed. This is not a mystery. Nothing will change until people organize that part of the dynamic. That would be an absolute grassroots exercise. A lot of energy would be required to succeed. A new draft constitution, or at the very least a nationwide referendum based on a truly national dialogue would be required. As it stands, there is no dialogue of significance happening. An edge of parliamentarian-style chaos might help persuade people that they have a real voice. Where is the communist party in the U.S. Where are the socialists? What you have now is two big boulders blocking the highway. Third and fourth movements are marginalized by the big money in cahoots with Big Media. Look at what they talk about. Every time something of substance grabs people, the real power, the opinion makers, leap into action. Where is the next missing child story? Where is the next O.J.? The important stuff is swept away by a tidal wave of sensational garbage. Hey, not to be insensitive to those affected by tragedy. It's just that the larger, looming national tragedy should take precedence. Power works overtime to distract the populace. Here's what we get. A cover picture of an Afghanistan woman with her nose cut off. Where was the picture of the bride's brains splattered by a U.S. bomb? That one was missing. Strangely enough... What are elections getting you now? A sense of loss, even despair among the disenfranchised. It's a rocky boat right now.

BD: You were a grassroots organizer, correct?

TS: You read the new book. It's all in there.

BD: Share please, for the great unwashed.

TS: Do you have any beer? (a pause as Buddy goes for beer)

BD: You have to have your beer, don't you?

TS: Throat's a little dry. (cough). Yes, that's better...okay, yes I worked as an organizer for a couple of years a long time ago. Welfare rights. Prisoners' rights. Tenants organizing, etc. It was me and a few others against the power. There's that word again. Power to the people, man? It was the sixties all over again in Maine in 1974. The movement never dies, it just changes tactics. That's part of what got Obama elected. That coalesced fast man, once he got sanctioned by big money. Big money rolled the dice. You don't see peace breaking out. I think Obama had to promise that wouldn't happen.

BD: That's very cynical. What did you do for the masses back then.

TS: "The masses, which rhymes with asses." A sociology professor I knew in college always used that phrase, incessantly. Bad habit. (sips too loudly). To answer your question, honestly, not much. As an advocate I helped people obtain services, often pleading and kicking, making a nuisance of myself around city hall. A partner and I might drive fifty miles to a small town in the sticks, approach the mayor who was usually a local businessman, and make a case for our client. A little food money. A barrel of oil. Essentials that the family budget couldn't cover. I'd say to the mayor: "we need a barrel of oil and a case of potato chips..."

BD: You're kidding right?

TS: I am. Sorry. (pausing to swallow, smacking lips) I tried to form groups in these small towns. Community groups with a charter, officers, the whole ball of wax. In Waterville I found a landlord who lent our group an office space. Very generous. One of the Pillsbury kids came in one day and said, "Do you want some money to run this place?" We were doing advocacy right there in Waterville, running people in and out of city hall who needed assistance. Word got around. George Pillsbury walks into our office and writes out a check. I can't remember how much. Paid the light bill, that's for sure.

BD: I take it you're talking about the dough boy, the food family? That Pillsbury?

TS: Well, not Grandpa. The kid. He was a young kid. It may have been George. I can't really remember all the details. The kid inherited all this money and decided to give us some. A rich, conservative family. The kid was sort of rebellious I guess. Or maybe he thought we'd continue to buy his frozen biscuits if he ponied up.

BD: How's that beer?

TS: It's good, bro.

BD: That's brewed around the corner, you know?

TS: Portland, Oregon...

BD: Beer capital...

TS: It's sort of heavy. Maybe I'd prefer a lager next time...

BD: Next time?

(click)

(to be continued)

TS