December 26, 2012--Snowbirding: Collision Center

"Where're you from?" he asked, glancing over at me. We were both in the waiting area of the Sawgrass   Mall Shopping Center Neiman Marcus dressing room where Rona and presumably his wife were trying on clothes.

"From your accent," I said, not really wanting to be distracted from the paper I was reading, "I can tell you're from Texas.

He smiled. "And I can tell you're from New York. Not from any accent--you don't seem to have much of one--but from that paper of y'alls." He tapped on the first section of the New York Times I had placed on the side table between us.

Here we go, I thought. To avoid a discussion about the "liberal" Times and left-wing media--I had already stereotyped him as apparently he had me--I said, "I think I lost it along the way. My accent, I mean. When I went away to college."

"No dez, dem's, or doe's for you," he chuckled, putting on his best Brooklyn accent and slapping his thigh.  I laughed too, still a little worried where this might be heading. "The one time we were in New York, I loved goin' to restaurants there and listenin' and watchin' all those Jewish people there talkin' so loud and gest'rin'," he imitated this as well, laughing deeply in a tobacco-thickened way.

Now I had real cause to be concerned. But before I could or had time to come up with how to respond, he quickly added, "Don't get me wrong, I love the Jews. I had one grand-pappy who was one and he was my favorite."

I decided to take his word for this. After all we were in a dressing room and in less than half an hour I'd never see him again. So I picked up the Arts section of the Times and buried my face in it.

In spite of this he asked, "Do you live in the city?" I didn't look up, pretending I hadn't heard him. "The Big Apple? Any idea why they call it that?"

I realized my attempt to ignore him wasn't working, so I decided to take a minimalist approach. "Yup," I said, trying to sound Texan, thinking that might shift us into some less tense territory. I was also hoping that Rona would hurry up finish trying on clothes so we could leave.

"Yup to what?" he wasn't going to let go of me that easily.  "That you're from the Apple or you know why they call it that?"

"I'm from there," I mumbled into the fold of the paper.

"Wha'ja say?"

Still not looking up, I mumbled a little louder, "I'm from there."

"Sorry to hear that." Was he mocking me, I wondered. And then in a different tone, "Did you get hit by that storm? Sherry, I think it was."

"Sandy."

"Sandy then."

"Personally, not that badly."

"It sure looked bad on the TV."

"It was."

"Back in Lubbock, where Mary Ellen and I come from--up there in the panhandle--we get storms blowin' through all the time. They can be real big ones. Come the summer tornadoes rip the place up pretty good. But, I'll admit, they're nothin' like what that Sandy did. That was some lady."

"Especially for people living along the coast." I was glad we were no longer talking about dining out in New York.

"Did those folks have any insurance?"

"Some did," I finally put the paper down, "and some didn't."

"S'pose they now want the government to bail 'em out."

"Like the banks?" I wondered if he would get my full meeting.

"I'm not sure I believe in the government bailin' anyone out--banks or folks with houses built right up by the water. I'm thinkin' that if they don't have insurance they're on their own."

"Even after a line of F-3 or F-4 category tornadoes rip up places like the panhandle pretty bad?"

"You got me there, pard'ner." He gave me a dramatic wink and reached out to slap my hand. I didn't extend mine to reciprocate. "We did get some government help from time to time. I do have to admit that."

Thinking that maybe we could reach some common ground, I said, "You shouldn't think that a majority of the people most effected by Sandy are rich with second homes along the coast. Some in New Jersey, yes, but most of the people who live there are modest. Many are first responders. And on 9/11 dozens who lost their lives were from those communities. So maybe that too is important to consider when thinking about what the government should and shouldn't do."

"I take your point, but still, shouldn't they have been expected to have insurance?"

"Probably, yes. But a lot of those people don't make enough money to pay for replacement insurance. The cost of insurance after 9/11 skyrocketed in the area and for most of these people their income hasn't kept pace. Especially for the police, firemen, and sanitation workers. They do important work for us, even putting their lives on the line, so shouldn't we help them out when, through no fault of their own, disaster strikes?"

"You know, back in Lubbock where, like I told you, we're from I got a collision center and . . ."

"Sorry, but what's that?"

"A collision center?" I nodded. "It's a body shop. And as you might 'magine, I work lots with insurance. And even for cars it's not a pretty picture."

Now I was fully engaged. "How's that?"

"To tell you the truth," he whispered to me, "I'd rather not say."

"No problem, but I think I know what you mean." He was nodding vigorously.

"One more thing about those poor folks who lost their houses."

"Sure."

"You got me half persuaded," he said, "that the government should probably give them help so they can rebuild. But . . ."

"What's your 'but'?"

"But just once." I looked at him not understanding. "I see I have you confused. I mean, help them once but after that they're on their own. No more government help. What's that old sayin'?--'First time, shame on you; second, shame on me'?"

"That's about it. And I think I get your drift--one bailout per family. I can live with that." In fact, I could.

"See there--you're one of them liberals from New York and I'm a redneck from Texas, but in fifteen minutes we could work this out."

Rona, thankfully, had reemerged from the dressing room and I stood up to head for the cash register with her. She had a few things she planned to buy.

"Now if only the folks in Washington could do the same thing," he smiled, "where would we be?"

"In a better place," I said, reaching out to shake his hand.