Jack Canon's American Destiny

by Greg Sandora

  All the advance work had paid off. The materials we put together and the ads were having an even greater effect than we’d hoped.

  Vic said to a sound guy, “We need the senator mic’d and out front in 5.”

  Melanie was just finishing applying a thin cream makeup to my face, “It looks a little dark, Melanie, are you sure?"

  “You’ll get washed out under the bright lights if you don’t have this on. Don’t you worry, I’m doing my best work for you.”

  At the same time the soundman is wiring me up.

  Vic says, “All set, let’s go. This way please, Senator.”

  We filed through a doorway onto the stage area. Vic walked me over to a small podium facing the moderators. Lexi and I immediately found each other’s eyes. I was glad she was here.

  Brett Prauer, a brash egocentric bully that passed for a Washington correspondent, was seated next to her. Brett was twice divorced. I thought, what woman could stand him? In his late forties, he made his reputation asking the so-called tough questions many other national reporters would not ask. I usually cringed when watching him interview and preferred just to change the channel. Brett had very thin hair, black hair he made a point of cutting short, and cold features that reminded me of a third world dictator.

  I’d have to be very firm with him right out of the gate and let him know this dog could bite back. Let him lock horns with the governor or one of the others. Next to me, on my left was Anne Griffin, on my right Dr. Tim Greene. Next to him was the Reverend Terry Williams, then Bobby D on the far end. The league had invited just the five of us for tonight’s debate and Anne Griffin was spoiling for a fight. She had just edged out Dr. Tim in Iowa and I could tell by the way she was posturing that she was looking to break out of the pack tonight. In her usual style, she wouldn’t care who she stepped on to do it. I’d have to put her in her place like a gentleman I thought looking over at her and smiling.

  The crowd was standing room only. It looked over capacity for a room that normally held five hundred; it probably had seven hundred fifty pressed into it. I was ready to go; the throngs of people calling out to me on the way in had given me a burst of energy. It made me feel incredible.

  I could hear a producer’s voice in my earpiece counting down the seconds until we were live. The cameras were hot, the producer signaled to Brett Prauer who introduced himself, the event, and then Lexi.

  Lexi began speaking, “Thank you Brett. Each candidate will be allowed a brief opening statement, after which we will begin the questions. There will be no direct questions between the participants, but rebuttal to statements will be allowed.”

  Lexi introduced each of the five candidates including their state then gave time for opening comments. I listened as each candidate gave their canned spiel, to polite applause, and I thought how cliché they all were. I didn’t like any of the competitors personally with the exception of Dr. Tim. I always thought he was a good man from Maine, really smart, but his views were a bit too ‘save the planet’ for my taste. Lexi introduced me and I began.

  “This campaign is for the poor, the disenfranchised, the forgotten Americans who had suffered through the hardship of back to back recessions. You deserve better than you’ve been getting from Washington. The middle class is shrinking, the poor are suffering, and wealth is ever more concentrated in the hands of a few.” I paused for a moment and scanned the audience.

  “I am in this race because it is unfair that 1% of Americans control 50% of the income in this country. It’s wrong that the other 99% are forced to subsist on what remains. The inequity has gone on too long. An elite super class has developed in this country while ordinary Americans suffer as a result.

  “If you’re tired of living off the scraps…

  “If you’re fed up with lack of opportunity…

  “If you want to take this country back for the many rather than the few…

  “Then I need your help and your vote.”

  The crowd broke out into a raucous applause and many people stood.

  Brett Prauer was trying to regain control, “Please we are going to have to ask for you to hold your applause in the audience.”

  I continued speaking over him, “If you want the unfairness to continue…

  “If you’re happy with the way things are…

  “If this economy is working for you…

  “Then by all means, vote for Gil Barker!

  “If you want an America that produces its own energy and the jobs and investment that goes with it then vote for me.

  “This campaign is all for you, America, and make no mistake - We Can! Take this country back!

  “Look, everyone, it’s not going to be easy to change the status quo. We’re all brainwashed from school age that everyone has an equal chance to make it in this country, but that’s a lie!

  “I reject the myth, and I strongly object to 38 million food challenged, I vehemently object to millions of homeless in this country.

  “If you’re tired, if you’re hungry, if you’re worried about your home, this campaign is for you—the real people who are hurting in America!

  “Our bridges and roads are crumbling on the outside while our hearts are breaking on the inside. The pain is causing many to rot from within; it impacts health, marriages, and self-esteem. It is not your fault our jobs were sent overseas.

  “But…there’s plenty of blame to go around in Washington. Our campaign is for the future of every man, woman, and child in America.

  “I am asking you to take to the streets and tell your neighbors what you heard here tonight! Let’s take this country back and create a brighter future for all Americans.

  “If you’ve had enough…

  “If you’re fed up with all of the above…

  “If you want an America that works for all Americans - Now is the Time to act!”

  I could here the cheers from the crowd outside. I spoke the words God Bless America as the audience sprang to its feet. Americans were at the end of a very long rope, and our message was gathering momentum. It took several moments for Brett Prauer to settle the crowd enough for the Texas Governor to begin.

  Anne Griffin introduced herself last, spoke about her two terms as Governor and her executive abilities, “What America needs is someone who has managed a budget and handled the number one job of managing a state. America has illegal immigrants crossing the border stealing American jobs. We need to produce more of our own oil by expanding drilling in the gulf and cutting the red tape, allowing for more refinery capacity. We need to put more into education to attract the high paying technical jobs within a growing global marketplace!”

  [LM9] She raised her voice for effect, “My plan of Free State College for every citizen would make America more competitive. Like it or not, the fuel for our economy is oil and that isn't gonna change anytime quick.”

  She was looking at me while making an effort to dissuade the crowd, “If the Senator’s plan would have worked we would’ve done it already. Why hasn’t that happened?”

  Brett Prauer said, “Thank you all for the introductions, with that I would like to ask Senator Canon the first question. Sir, what do you think of the Governor’s last statement?”

  “Brett, I would answer the Governor by saying we are already doing it. The technology is with us to turn corn, soybeans, and Jatropha into biofuels. I gave a speech a few weeks ago at Georgetown University, outlining our plan to create energy right here in America, and we have a book out on the subject.

  “What she’s not telling you is it’s going to take a presidential initiative to steer us in the right direction. The oil companies are not just going to lay down while we work to drop the price of their product! We need to subsidize the growing and production of feedstock like Jatropha into biofuels. We have to give farmers incentive to grow fuel for America. Just like the victory gardens of old, citizens have to get involved. School kids could learn about bio energy growing gardens at recess. We need to change the national psy
che to understand and to use the new fuels. The great thing is we can make a major impact in just one growing season; we are talking months, not years.

  “We can work to increase yield the way we did with corn, and Jatropha is a grass, not a food source. It grows where many other plants will not, making it perfect for our efforts. Our goal is to produce enough bio energy that the price of oil drops in half.

  “The oil producing nations, realizing the market is shrinking, will begin to dump oil onto the market and the byproduct of our efforts will be cheaper energy.

  “For the foreseeable future to help that along, we will outlaw the speculation in oil and petroleum by those who do not take delivery as an end user of the products. The reason is simple. Right now oil, gas, and natural gas are bought and sold many times each day on speculation that the price will rise. This happens with many commodities and usually it’s a good thing because it makes a market for products and allows manufactures to lock in prices for raw materials like sugar or cocoa for the year. The exchanges allow a market to be made for planning purposes and the system works well.

  “The problem is - there is such a vast and nearly insatiable market for petroleum and energy products - the speculation only drives the price higher and higher. People know that winter is coming and we will need oil to heat our homes. Speculators bid up the price with no intention of ever taking delivery on the product. They know people will want to hit the road over the Fourth of July, so they bid up gas prices. This phenomenon just serves to create a false demand that drives the price artificially higher.

  “Look, if you’re an airline or own a chain of gas stations, nothing changes; taking delivery of the products as an end user, you will be able to lock in the price. That was the original intent of these commodities exchanges.

  “Conversely, if you’re sitting home in your pajamas with nothing more than a computer waiting for a cold snap or a summer holiday to buy up oil and gas and you have no intent or ability to use it then you won’t be able to do that.

  “False markets in energy will be against the law, period.”

  Lexi asked, “Senator Canon, you’re saying there is a false demand for oil in this country, and that is driving up the price of oil and hurting our economy?”

  “Yes, Alexa, my first day in office, I would sign an executive order prohibiting speculation in energy unless intended for sale to end users. Then I would work with Congress to make it the law of the land. Let’s be clear, there are very wealthy people in this country right now that are hoarding large quantities of oil in tanks just waiting for a cold snap or shortage so the price will go up, and then they sell. That behavior hurts ordinary Americans. I am here to let Americans in on this activity.

  “Speculators, even small time investors, many with nothing more than a home computer and a telephone, buy and sell fuel all day long hoping to make as little as a quarter cent a gallon on each trade.

  “Right now, any number of people will buy because they can unload in seconds with the click of a mouse to other speculators for a profit, or if the price turns, to limit their losses. That’s patently unfair with products that play such and important role in manufacturing, transportation, heating, and other essential services Americans depend on.”

  “Well, Senator, let me ask you this. What happens if this false market stops and a buyer has to take delivery?”

  “Alexa, imagine a truck pulling up to your home and delivering a tanker load of fuel. That’s how the system was designed to work. Believe me the false demand will evaporate overnight.

  “If you’re holding oil and don’t plan to use it yourself, you’re gonna be looking to unload well before the executive order.”

  After the debate, Tip, Bud, and I left the building under police escort. Even with cops all around us, getting to the car was slow. By the time I entered the car, without a jacket, I was freezing.

  Tip called ahead to the driver and made arrangements with the police to help get us out of there. The crowd was amped up calling Canon…Canon…as we jumped into the car. The police instructed the driver to pull up along the side street between Faneuil Hall and the parking garage.

  As soon as I got in the car, I could feel the rush of warmth. I felt good that at least we had some steel separating us from the throngs of people. It was quickly becoming a mob scene as the road filled with onlookers. There were police in the front and rear of the car. We were just creeping along with the cops dispersing the crowd when a guy leaped onto the front hood. I thought I heard him say ‘help us,’ before the cops quickly pulled him off and he disappeared into the darkness.

  Tip said, “Jack we’re gonna need a lot more guys.”

  Bud was amped, “I had no idea people would react this strongly.”

  “Bud, next time we don’t want to have anyone stirring the people up, we probably caused most of this.”

  “Jack, I didn’t have anyone whipping up the crowd, the guy I had in mind couldn’t make it so we concentrated on the posters and the flyers. I didn’t want to bother you with anything on your way into the debate. What we’re seeing is the natural reaction. There is a lot of frustration out there; twenty five million people are unemployed and the rich keep getting richer. People get it rubbed in their faces on television; they deserve better. The pressure’s been building for years. People are fed up and you’re their outlet.”

  Kathy was calling in on the cell, “Jack that was wonderful tonight, you did a great job up there, Honey. It felt incredible just watching on Television. The people really responded to you.”

  “We’re on our way back to Washington to drop the guys off and then I’ll be flying home tonight. How is Mom doing?”

  Kathy said, “There is news, Jack. Your mom spoke this afternoon, she was asking for you.”

  “Thank God, what did she say?”

  She just asked where you were, We told her you were up in Boston and she would see you soon.”

  “Well that is what we’ve been praying for; God is good to us Honey. I’m going to stop by the hospital after I land.”

  “Are you sure, Jack? You must be exhausted.”

  “I’m wide awake and I feel bad that I’ve been away from her. How’s Dad?”

  “He’s doing well. Roger brought him to see your mom and they stayed at the hospital most of the day. Jack, speaking of Roger, he called during the debate and wanted me to tell you - he’s thankful for the way you handled the questions about him and the Real Estate mess in Florida; you made him very proud.”

  During the debate, Brett asked about my brother, Roger, and his walking away from a major residential real estate project. He linked the mess to the closing of a bank by federal regulators. He mentioned the Colonel’s money being involved. I took the question as an obvious attempt to paint my father as one of the super rich, my brother as irresponsible, and by association these foibles ran in the family.

  My answer was plain as to my father’s wealth. I handled that by saying simply, “I have a unique understanding of the very wealthy. My father would not want to give up anything, but if his income declined slightly, he and those like him would never miss it.”

  “If just one percent of the wealth were spread over the remaining population, the standard of living for ordinary Americans would improve greatly.”

  I added, “99% of Americans are living on just 50% of the National Income while the elite 1% enjoys the rest. For every 1% we wrench out of their greedy grasp, your standard of living will improve by 20%. Why should the many suffer because the accident of birth leaves the rich feeling entitled? I know for a fact they are no better than you are, no more deserving than you. The unfairness has gone on too long.” The room erupted.

  Brett tried to settle the crowd, raising his voice to no avail.

  I spoke over them, “Regarding my brother and his investment in Florida, and to all the others who were taught that Real Estate was a reasonably safe investment: you have been hood winked by corruption in the financial markets, the likes of which pol
ite society can scarcely imagine!

  “The corruption runs so deep that Ordinary Americans didn’t have a chance to make these investments work. The underbelly of this corruption involves the banks and the lack of regulatory oversight. The government fell asleep at the switch and didn’t just allow it to happen; they encouraged it!

  “Hear me, America, if you got caught up in this scandal, it is not your fault, you’re not to blame. Homes should never be valued for less than they cost to build. When I am elected, the corruption will be unraveled and those responsible will be brought to justice. Help is on the way! Americans hurting from the mortgage mess will be helped; I guarantee that to you tonight!”

  I motioned with my hands for the crowd to settle, “The greedy banks were bailed out to the tune of hundreds of billions of dollars: money they were supposed to loan to help Americans. Instead, they used the easy cash to bolster their balance sheets. Loans were extended to banks at zero percent while people hurting from the crippling drop in values had their feet held to the flames.

  “The people didn’t get bailed out, the people weren’t helped. Instead, they were made to feel ashamed by inept politicians and greedy banks. The system failed you.

  “I promise you the banks won’t like it! We Can… make this right! We must unwind this mess and provide the relief people need to get their homes and their country back on track.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  After dropping the guys off at Reagan around midnight, I sat back for the flight to Kentucky. I was feeling exhilarated, as if electricity was flowing out the ends of my fingertips. I thought— this is what it must be like to leave the stage after a rock concert. Ushered through throngs of people calling out to you, pushing slowly toward a waiting limo, inching down a crowded street, disappearing into the myriad of one-way horse trails turned roadways that is Boston.

  I saw that Lexi had left a text on my phone, ‘Great job tonight, call me if you can.’ I pressed her number and waited for the phone, three rings, “Hi, Jack, how are you?”