September 22, 2017--Jack & Betty: Rocket Man

Between breakfast and lunch rush, it was quiet at the diner and so Betty plopped down in the booth with us.

"Don't get me wrong, I like when we're busy. I like the action and of course the money, but it's about a month since the season ended and I'm about burned out."

"And what about your other jobs? Are you still so busy?"

She smiled at Rona. "My weekend job runs 'til Columbus Day. But the house cleaning is tapering off. The people who tend to be here now, I mean in addition to us year-rounders, tend to be like you guys. Owners who are here for six months and don't require weekly cleaning. So, I'm getting a bit of a break, which is good 'cause my arthritis is getting worse." She stretched and turned her head with effort from side to side as if to illustrate.

"One good thing," she said, "I haven't seen much of Jack. Actually, he hasn't been in in a month. But to tell you the truth, I sort of half miss him. He stirs things up."

"Really?" I said, "I thought he gets under your skin. The last time we were all here I think you called him a hypocrite. Sort of harsh. Not that I disagree, mind you. He's set up with his state job and benefits and vacation days but points his finger at anyone else who is helped by the state. You pinned him about that. How he is oblivious to the fact that he too in some ways is on the dole. And though he rants about shrinking the size of the government he works for that same government he wants to get rid of."

With that, wouldn't you know it, as if on cue Jack bounded through the door. It felt like half the oxygen was sucked up by him. 

Before he sat down, he bellowed, "How's my boy doing?"

"Here we go," Betty muttered, "He's all pumped up again after having some doubts about Trump a month ago. You know, after Charlottesville and the white supremacist business." 

I did remember that and told Betty I wrote a piece about it. About his grandfather who had been in the Second World War and saw the slaughter that had been going on in Nazi concentration camps. What racism and white supremacy can lead to.

"That's right," Jack said, as if he could read my thoughts. "He's back!"

"Yeah, like Freddy Krueger," Betty said half under her breath.

"I can see my president has you all confounded. In the meantime, how 'bout getting me a cup of java?"

Betty hauled herself up and went to get it. Still muttering.

"How's the state job?" Rona asked with an edge. "Just rode up here on the Bristol Road and saw some of your compadres hard at work. Especially those flag guys who direct traffic where only one lane is open. You know, the ones that have signs that say 'slow' and 'stop.' How much are they making? By, the hour, I mean. Not that what they do isn't important, but the state needs to employ them? I would assume you'd want them to be contract workers. You know, to shrink the size of government. Like one of your heroes says, to make it so small it can be drowned in a bathtub."

"That's Grover Norquist," I said, "the anti-tax guy."

"You guys have your daggers out, don't you. Did you rehearse this? Can't even wait for me to get my coffee." 

Betty was back, and after depositing Jack's coffee just out of reach on the table, slid back onto the banquette next to Rona. Jack smirked.

"We haven't seen you for awhile so we've got up all this pent up material. Your boy doesn't disappoint in one way at least." Jack looked at me quizzically, "By saying and doing stupid things. He's a gaff machine." Betty had her arms folded across her chest and glared at him.

"You mean you don't like how he's behaving and what he's saying at your UN?"

I ignored the jibe. "So you're liking what he's been saying about North Korea and Kim Jong-un?"

"Not liking it, loving it. It's about time someone told it like it is."

"You mean getting us into a nuclear war with them?" Rona was incredulous. "That's telling it like it is?"

Betty said, "How, he said, it's getting close to the time when we'll have to, as he put it, 'totally destroy' North Korea and then referred to Kim as 'Rocket Man' on a 'suicide mission.' You're OK with that? You think that's the way an American president should address the UN?"

"Like I said, it's about time. Where has talking in diplomaticese gotten us? Let's start with Bill Clinton, then there was George Bush, and after that Obama. They all spoke the same language of reasonableness and diplomacy. With a few pathetic threats mixed in. And where did that get us? An agreement with North Korea about nuclear weapons and intercontinental missiles? Not even close. Over the past 20, 25 years, while presidents of both parties talked this way the North Koreans developed A- and H-bombs and seem to be close to having rockets big enough to reach not only Guam but soon the west coast of the U.S. You think that's a good thing?" When we didn't answer, he said, "So, if you were president what would you do?"

For the moment, the three of us had nothing to say.

Jack continued, "That's what your fancy talk gets you."

"You think it's smart to call Kim Rocket Man?" Betty asked, "To insult him, especially an Asian is frankly stupid. It's a cultural thing. He's not Little Marco or Crooked Hilary. This is serious and dangerous business. But of course your boy if nothing else can be pretty stupid."

"I think you have it backwards," Jack said, ignoring his coffee, "Let's remember that for some crazy reason Kim Jong-whatever loves Dennis Rodman. Not just because he was a basketball star but because of his flamboyance, his cartoon-like, super-hero style. So, what Trump is doing is actually buttering Kim up. Remember during the campaign when he said he would be 'honored' to meet with him? That's a direct quote. What do you make of that?" Not waiting for an answer, he plowed ahead, "I tell you what I make of it--it's my view that my boy is flattering Kim. My guess is that Kim loves being thought of as Rocket Man. I doubt that he knows the Elton John song, 'Rocket Man,' or any of the lyrics. He may know Trump played that song at his rallies. Maybe Trump thinks of himself that way too."

"This is lunacy," I said. "You really are comfortable with your leader, our leader thinking and behaving this way when things are so hair-trigger scary?"

"I repeat," Jack said, "conventional politicians got us to this point. They're the ones who have acted dangerously. They kicked the problem down the road and now here we are. Trump is trying something different,"

"Yeah," Betty said, "Including leading us to a big unwinable war. You think China will sit still if we attack North Korea? We can only get away with that if North Korea acts first and bombs Guam or Japan. And even then we could overreact."

"I can't believe the three of you. Weakness itself is dangerous. If we continue to act like pansies what kind of message does that send to Kim? If you're interested I'll tell you what I think is really going on."

Looking away, Rona said, "Tell me. I'm waiting with bated breath."

"That behind the scenes we're having discussions with the North Koreans. Like we did with the North Vietnamese. Trump figured out that Kim wants respect and he's giving him a little. Enough to begin the process of making a deal. But, in the meantime, publicly, to underscore the seriousness of how we're taking this threat, Trump is behaving like a scary crazy man. If you were Kim and not the head of a suicide cult, I think I would take Trump's crazy act, and that's what I think it is, very, very seriously because we really can totally destroy them. It would be hideous, but we could do it."

He sighed and gulped his coffee.

"There's enough blame to go around," I acknowledged, "Clinton, Bush, Obama, and now Trump. He's the one who may finally take the steps to blow up the world. I think it's that precarious and so I really hope you're right." At that thought Jack was glowing again. "But try as hard as I can, I think the two of you are crazy. And I don't mean acting crazy."