Political Satire: Having trouble surviving these times? You’re not alone. Join us in columnist John F. Di Leo’s exploration of an alternate universe, where we imagine the impossible:
Joe Buckstop, an aging, corrupt old fool, somehow becomes president in his basement, and every night, an aide has to bring him his soup and discuss the events of the day as he prepares to receive his nightly meds…
Dateline, April 7. Begin Transcript:
“Hello? Are you there?”
“Huh?”
“Umm… good evening, sir! I’m here with your soup again, sir!”
“Hey, you’ve been here before… are you working here now?”
“No, sir. I work for the pizza place, sir. But I guess I got here right as your soup was ready, and the cook asked me to take it down again. She says her knee’s been acting up, sir.”
“Oh.”
“So here you are, sir… Georgian beef soup, sir.”
“Really?”
“Yes sir. Umm… no, that’s not it…. there was more to it… Oh, yeah… Georgian Beef and Walnut soup, sir. Now I remember.”
“Beef and walnut? Really?”
“Yes sir. Georgian Beef and Walnut, sir. She said it’s really rich and it’ll fill you up, sir.”
“What else is in it?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Why not?”
“Sir, i dropped off a pizza and tried to leave. Your cook talks me into carrying a tray down a long steep flight of stairs three nights in a row. Do you honestly think I’m going to interview her at length about the ingredients of the soup?”
“Oh.”
“Look, sir, I don’t mean to be unhelpful, but this isn’t my job, it isn’t my interest, and it sure isn’t my specialty. I’m proud of myself for remembering the name of the soup.”
“Oh.”
“I remember that it’s Georgian. That’s really the main thing I remember. I’m not really a soup person, sir. I’d eat pizza three times a day if I could. But I’ve never seen Georgian food, so I guess it stood out, that way, anyway.”
“Oh.”
“So how is it, sir?”
“Oh. Fine. Rich. Very thick. A lot of flavor. Never had anything like this when I’ve been to Georgia. They’ve always taken me to places that specialized in Georgia pulled pork.”
“Huh? Oh, Heh heh. Good one, sir.”
“What?”
“Good one. Georgia. Heh heh.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh… OH, you weren’t kidding? Sorry. No, sir, this soup is from the other Georgia, sir.”
“Other Georgia? What do you mean?”
“You know, sir, the one in Europe?”
“When did Georgia go to Europe?”
“It’s always been in Europe, sir.”
“You lying dog faced pony soldier! Georgia has always been right here in the United States!”
“Umm… sir… this isn’t the one named after King George, sir. This is the one in Eastern Europe, sir. The one south of Ukraine and Russia, sir.”
“Oh.”
“Sorry, sir, I, umm, well, I thought you knew.”
“Good soup, anyway. Now I know why I’ve never had it in Atlanta.”
“Hey, umm, speaking of Atlanta, sir… did you here about the Masters, sir?”
“What masters?”
“The Masters, sir. The big golf tournament, sir.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“Well, sir, their president gave a speech today. I heard it on the radio, sir.”
“Oh.”
“Talking about the voting thing, sir.”
“Oh.”
“You’ve got all these good companies scared to death, sir… Coca-Cola, Delta, Major League Baseball, now the Masters, lots more…”
“Oh.”
“See, I drive in the car a lot. I mean, a lot, sir. Practically my whole day and evening, six days a week, is spent delivering pizzas, sir.”
“Oh?”
“A guy could listen to music all the time, of course, but you get tired of that after a while, sir. So, see, I listen to the news, all the time now, sir.”
“Makes sense.”
“And these last few days, sir, I’ve heard something I’ve never noticed before.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know, maybe it’s not so strange, and I’m only just noticing it, but you know, I really think this is kind of new. I’ve been around the block a few times, you know? So I think if I’d seen this before, I’d have noticed. But this is a first for me, sir.”
“Mmmm, this is good soup. Go ahead, go on…”
“Well, sir, it’s like I keep hearing the same story, again and again, only with a different company name each time. It’s the strangest thing, sir.”
“What’s that?”
“Well sir, all these companies sound so, well, scared. I’ve never heard of companies sounding scared, before, sir. But these spokesmen… you know, CEOs, presidents, chairmen, press secretaries, whatever… they all seem to say the same thing, sir.”
“Go ahead… don’t mind me, I’m just eating my soup, here. It’s really good…”
“They all make the same kind of statement, like, ‘we would like to go on record as declaring that the bigotry evidenced by this bill is unAmerican, and we want our customers to know we believe they deserve better,’ or some hogwash like that, sir. Almost the same, every time, sir.”
“So? Good for them. What’s your point?”
“Well, sir, it’s just that, they don’t sound like they’re fighting to keep the support of their customers, sir. I don’t think they really expect to lose any customers, sir… I think it sounds like they’re afraid of something else, sir. Not of losing customers, which could make sense, I guess, but like, like they’re afraid of political retribution, sir.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, kid.”
“Well, sir, it sounds like they’re afraid of getting in trouble for something they didn’t have ANYTHING to do with, and they’re baffled, sir. Like, it’s like this kid on the next block was playing a ball game, and he tripped somebody, maybe even by accident, and this other kid who wasn’t in the game, who didn’t have anything to do with it at all, but who heard about it, feels like he has to stand up in class and apologize for kids tripping other kids, and go on record as disapproving of tripping, sir. That’s how it sounds to me.”
“Look, just because I tripped on my way up to that plane a week ago, kid, that doesn’t mean I’m in favor of tripping…”
“What??? No, sir, it has nothing to do with that, sir. It’s just that, well, I’m in my car, from delivery to delivery, and I hear the same story again and again. It’s weird as hell, sir, begging your pardon, sir… ”
“What’s so weird?”
“They all sound scared, sir! BlackRock, Merck, Porsche, UPS…. All these businesses who have absolutely nothing to do with this voting law, nothing to do with politics at all, seem to feel this overwhelming pressure to go on record about stuff that has nothing to do with them whatsoever, sir. Doesn’t that sound weird to you, sir?”
“No.”
“Look, they had nothing to do with the law. It’s a perfectly normal law anyway, I still can’t figure out what’s got people all tied in knots over it… but in any case, it has nothing to do with them. Aren’t American companies supposed to be able to stay out of politics, sir? I mean, on either side. Doesn’t it scare you that businesses seem scared to be quiet about things that don’t concern them? That they feel like they all have to run out and grab a microphone just to make a public statement about something they had nothing to do with at all, sir? It’s like they’re terrified of retribution, when they’re totally innocent, sir.”
“Good for them.”
“But sir, if the issue has nothing to do with them, what on earth can they have to fear?”
“Heh heh… You’ll see.”
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“Go deliver your pizzas, kid. And maybe don’t listen to the news so much. It’ll rot your brain.”
Copyright 2021 John F Di Leo
Excerpted with permission from “Evening Soup with Basement Joe, Volume One,” from Free State West Publishing, available in paperback or eBook exclusively on Amazon.
John F. Di Leo is a Chicagoland-based international transportation and trade compliance professional and consultant. A onetime Milwaukee County Republican Party chairman, he has been writing a regular column for Illinois Review since 2009. His book on vote fraud (The Tales of Little Pavel) and his political satires on the current administration (Evening Soup with Basement Joe, Volumes I, II, and III), are available in either eBook or paperback, only on Amazon.
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