Thursday, July 26, 2012

Warnings: It's Like Yelling in Antartica Anyway

Faldo doesn’t go to a lot of bars. But Faldo has a couple of them he will frequent. One is where you will usually find me. The one with chicken wings and cold draft beer.

The other semi-regular place is a cigar bar. Friendly, open, trendy and like Faldo said, you can smoke a cigar.

The last spot is where Faldo goes to drink alone and stew in my own thoughts. Not as classy as the cigar bar and not trendy like the wing restaurant, but not a dive where Faldo has to worry about hassles. Faldo is not there often enough to where the employees notice me. As a matter of fact, this night all the “help” appears to have changed - again. This is perfect for my desire to not be bothered. If Faldo wanted company the other two places is where Faldo will be.

Faldo was all the way at the end of the bar on a more crowded than usual night for his “alone” place. It is a rainy weeknight and that seemed to have packed in some of the professional people and professors from the financial district and major college campus nearby.

Faldo was half-way thru my first glum solitary drink when a well-dressed suit about my age sat down in the only empty stool left at the bar – next to me. Faldo thought maybe he recognized him as a “somebody” but could not quite place it. Or maybe Faldo had seen him in here before and that 1st class suit just made him look like a “somebody”. Either way, it was dismissed as - after all - he is sitting next to Faldo. It don’t get too much more “somebody” than that!

Mr. or Prof. GQ orders a double from the bartender who knows which scotch to reach for – it’s the best and most expensive of the bottles of scotch in view. He downs it like it is iced tea and nods to the bartender for a re-fill and with a raised eyebrow from the pourer, the glass is refilled. This time, only half is poured down quickly and the bartender retreats to other thirsty people.

We sit there in silence for 10 minutes, with only an interruption in our private thoughts is from the silent drink pourer with a quick double refill for my neighbor and a fresh cold stout beer for me.

Some time passes and Faldo notices GQ is looking at his smartphone and is staring at it approximately 5 inches from his own face. After a few minutes he says to know one in particular, “The new day starts in about 10 hours – more or less.”

He then sets the smartphone down and throws back his third double and signals for a refill – which is slow in coming. Faldo looks at the phone and it is the latest and greatest on the market. This thing could fly the space shuttle if it needed to. Faldo saw the advertisements for that smartphone, and know that not only are they are more than triple the price of any other smartphone on the market, but there is a waiting list to get one. Only the hoy-connected-paloy has them right now.

So, this guy is a “somebody”. But who?

After his re-fill arrives, he turns to me and asks, “Do you know anything about how the world financial markets work?”

Faldo said, “I just know it is all IOU’s, smoke and mirrors and controlled by a few people in a few countries.”

He doesn’t confirm or deny my allegation. The look on his face is one of study. Like he is deciding whether to agree with me or set me straight. Not from an opinion standpoint. No, the look tells me he knows the correct answer and is debating whether or not to tell me.

After a while Faldo asks, “Why did you ask me that?” That breaks his trance and he says, “What?” like he never heard my question at all. Faldo repeats it and he just turned back to his drink.

Faldo did the same thing and after a few minutes he said, “When I was in junior high, there was a game we played once in class. It consisted of asking the question ‘If it was nighttime and we knew positively that the world was going to be destroyed tomorrow morning, would we tell anyone? If you ask enough people, you will notice some interesting patterns.

There are really only three basic answers. Some will say that they will spend the remaining time screwing, eating, drinking, getting stoned, listening to their favorite music or walking in the woods. The Sensualist reply.”

Others will say that they will try to escape even if it was hopeless. They would spend their time searching for the loophole that would save the planet or at least themselves. This is the Pragmatic reply.

Others will try to come to terms with the oncoming doom. They will settle in their own minds any way to find some peace or retribution. They will either enjoy the time with spouses, family and friends. While others come to terms by strike out at who they thought was responsible for bringing this apocalypse. This is the Appolonian reply.

There are some crossovers and mixtures of the two, but you can really fit them all into just these three categories.”

He downed another drink before continuing. “The next question was even more revealing. If you knew the world was about to come apart completely and unravel, making currency, property and banks worthless overnight. And then the world will fall into total anarchy followed by purges of governments, colleges, media outlets, with death, starvation, slavery, re-education camps and despair for the masses, would you tell anyone else?”

Mr. GQ turned to me and said, “Would you tell anyone else?”

Faldo thought for a while and asked again if there was “anything that could be done to stop it?” He said, “Nothing.”

“In that case,” Faldo said picking up my mug for a swig of beer, “I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Ok, then I won’t either.” And with that, Mr. GQ got up, threw a hundred dollar bill on the bar and walked out. The bartender looked really happy when he saw the massive tip lying there. But also lying there was Mr. GQ’s smartphone.

“Well that guy will be back for his phone…..and for his change,” Faldo said to the bartender, who now looked a little mad at me for suggesting that. Then Faldo asked the bartender, “Who is that guy?”

The bartender said, “Oh, he is the top Economics professor at that college and is also one of the main advisors to President Obama. Yeah, that guy is way up there in the Democrat Party. One of the key guys in the inner circle fund-raising efforts for the Obama campaign here in Michigan. I thought you knew him, because I never heard him speak except to order a drink. But he seemed to be talking your ear off.”

Then Faldo remembered where Faldo saw his face before – on the cover of TIME magazine while walking thru an airport on a business trip.

It has been an hour now and Faldo keeps looking at Mr. GQ’s smartphone. Surely, he will notice he doesn’t have it on him and will come back for it.

But Faldo is starting to worry.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I saw the same sign in Cedartown, Georgia. Too bad in either state very few people could read it.

Herbavor

Cigar4John said...

Gold and Guns? Did he come back?