by Dave Barry
I’m thinking maybe we should do something about this pesky federal budget deficit. Of course this is not our job. We have a political system called “democracy” (from the ancient Greek words “demo,” meaning “white men,” and “cracy” meaning “wearing blue suits”) under which we, The People, do not personally govern the nation because we have to work. So we elect representatives who go to Washington on our behalf and perform the necessary governmental functions that we ourselves would perform if we were there, such as sending out newsletters, accepting large contributions, and becoming involved in a wide range of sex scandals. My favorite part is when the scandal becomes public and the congressperson, in accordance with congressional tradition, attacks the press:
CONGRESSPERSON: Are you media people perfect? Have you never committed an immoral act?
REPORTER: Not involving agricultural products, no.
SECOND REPORTER: At least not soybeans.
So there’s no need for us to become involved in the government, unless of course we have a good reason, which is why, about a year ago, I called up the U.S. Treasury Department in an effort to get it to stop making pennies.
Pennies were invented during the Great Depression, a grim era that was filmed entirely in black and white. The nation needed a very small unit of money, because back then—ask anybody who lived through it—the average salary was only four cents per year, and houses cost a dime, and a dollar would buy you a working railroad.
Today, however, nothing costs a penny. Even shoddy, worthless products such as stale gum balls, rest-room condoms, and newspapers cost at least a quarter, the result being that pennies have become nothing but a nuisance, the Mediterranean fruit flies of the coin world. Everybody hates them. Stores deliberately palm them off on you by programming their cash registers so that no matter what you buy, the total comes to something dollars and 61 cents, allowing the clerk to dump upwards of 17 pennies into your hand, knowing that you can’t prove that the amount is incorrect because, thanks to the electronic calculator, no normal American outside the third grade remembers how to subtract.
All these pennies end up in your home. In my household alone we have several penny deposits easily the size of brutally persecuted minority group Zsa Zsa Gabor. At risk of suffering fatal hernias we have lugged them from household to household, watching them grow, unable to turn them back into money because the bank won’t take them unless you wrap them in those little paper sleeves, a job that we estimate would take us, assuming we did not stop for lunch, until the end of time.
So as a concerned citizen, I called the Treasury Department, where I was eventually connected with an official spokesperson, who told me that the reason the government keeps making pennies is—she really said this—the public wants pennies.
“No we don’t,” I pointed out.
But the spokesperson insisted that yes, we did. She cited several scientific surveys, apparently taken on the Planet Weebo, proving that pennies are highly popular, and assured me that the government plans to keep right on cranking them out.
It is at times like this that we should remember the words of President John F. Kennedy, who, in his stirring inaugural address, said: “Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask whether your country has been inhaling paint-thinner fumes.” I mean, look at the federal budget deficit. Everybody in the known universe agrees that the deficit is way too big, so the government’s solution is to make it bigger, by means of innovative programs such as the savings-and-loan industry bailout. Here we have an industry that managed to lose hundreds of billions of dollars because the people who run it apparently have the financial “know-how” of furniture, so our government’s solution is to give them hundreds of billions more dollars, which they’ll probably rush out and spend on shrewd investments such as worm farms.
So I’m thinking maybe it’s time that we, The People, swung into action. Just sitting here scratching my armpit I’ve already come up with several practical ideas for reducing the deficit:
Hire men named Vito to kidnap federal pandas Hsing-Hsing and Ling-Ling so the government will stop spending millions each year trying to make them (the pandas) reproduce.
Require each congressman to sell $17 billion worth of cookies door to door.
Pass a constitutional amendment requiring a balanced budget.
Well, OK, I admit that last one was “off the deep end.” But my point is, our government needs help, which is why I’ve decided to hold:
A DEFICIT-REDUCTION CONTEST
I want you to think up an idea, write it down on a POSTAL CARD (remember, it has to be short enough that even top federal officials can grasp it) and mail it to me c/o The Miami Herald, Miami, FL 33132. If you win, I’ll print your name and suggestion in a column, and armed federal employees with dogs will come to your house at night. Not only that, but if yours is the BEST idea, I’ll send you a CASH PRIZE. I’m totally serious here. This will be such a massive cash prize that it will be shipped from my house to yours by truck. I’m sure it will bring you much happiness, once you get those sleeves on it.
THE SHOCKING SOLUTION TO THE BUDGET DEFICIT
Today we announce the winners in our big Deficit Contest, in which we asked you, the ordinary taxpaying citizens who make up the backbone and pelvic structure of this great nation, to see if you could come up with helpful suggestions for getting rid of this pesky federal budget deficit. As you know, our congresspersons have been unable to work on this because they’ve been busy passing an Ethics Bill, under which we’re going to pay them more money, in exchange for which they’re going to try to have some ethics. I think this is a terrific concept, and if it works with Congress, we should also try it with other ethically impaired groups such as the criminally insane.
Speaking of whom, you readers did a heck of a job responding to the Deficit Contest. As I write these words, my office floor is covered with thousands of contest entries, carefully arranged in mounds and in many cases welded together with dog spit supplied by my two research assistants, Earnest and Zippy, who were a major help. But it was you readers who really came through, proving once again that when the American people decide to “get involved” in a problem, it is best not to let them have any sharp implements. Because quite frankly, reading between the lines, I detected a certain amount of hostility in these entries, especially the ones proposing a nuclear strike on the U.S. Capitol.
Some hostility was also directed toward me. In some versions of my original contest column I had proposed, in a lighthearted manner, that we reduce the deficit by “selling unnecessary states such as Oklahoma to the Japanese.” This caused a number of Oklahomans to send in letters containing many correctly spelled words and making the central lighthearted point that I am a jerk. They also sent me official literature stating that Oklahoma has enormous quantities of culture in the form of ballet, Oral Roberts, etc., and that the Official State Reptile—I am not making this up—is something called the “Mountain Boomer.” So I apologize to Oklahoma, and as a token of my sincerity I’m willing to sell my state, Florida, to the Japanese, assuming nobody objects to the fact that Japan would suddenly become the most heavily armed nation on Earth.
But most of the hostility in the Deficit Contest entries was directed toward our elected federal officials. This is especially true of:
THE CONTEST WINNER
This is Geoffrey Braden of Seattle, Washington, whose idea is that we convert the federal budget deficit to electrical voltage—the bigger the deficit, the higher the voltage—and then run the current through our congresspersons. Geoffrey recommended that we run the current through a specific section of the Congressional anatomy that I will not identify here, except to say that besides eliminating the deficit, this proposal would put a real dent in all these sex scandals. Geoffrey therefore wins the big Cash Prize, consisting of all the pennies in my closet, estimated street value $23 million if put into paper sleeves, which will never happen.
Speaking of pennies, about a thousand of you suggested
that we eliminate the deficit by sending all our accumulated hateful penny deposits to the government. This is a brilliant idea except for one minor flaw: It’s stupid. What it boils down to is giving the government more money, which of course the government would immediately convert into things like accordion subsidies. Which is too bad, because some of you had excellent ideas for increasing government revenue, such as:
“A $10 million Roman numeral tax on movies. For example, Rambo IV would cost Stallone $40 million. I’m not sure whether reducing the number of movie sequels would be a side benefit or the main benefit.” (Ed Goodman, Waterbury, Connecticut)
“Fine people $50,000 for each unnecessary education-related letter attached to the end of their names. For example, ‘Robert H. Monotone, B.A., M.B.A., Ph.D.’ would be fined $400,000 annually.” (Ron DiCesare, Troy, Michigan)
“The U.S. government should sell its secrets directly to the Russians and cut out the middlemen.” (Leslie Price, Hibbing, Minnesota)
“Rent the Stealth bomber out for proms.” (Jimmy Muth, Haverstraw, New York)
“Sell live film footage of George Bush showering with his dog.” (Leslie Gorman, Fort Worth, Texas)
“Mug Canada.” (Kyle Kelly of Dubuque, Iowa, and Mike Orsburn of Gainesville, Texas)
We also got a lot of suggestions that we do not totally 100 percent understand but that we are presenting here as a reminder of the importance of remembering to take our prescription medication:
“Make deer legal tender.” (Jon Hunner, Tesuque, New Mexico)
“Arbitrarily and capriciously eliminate every other word in government documents.” (George Garklavs, Golden, Colorado)
“Sell manure (all kinds) at North and South poles.” (Sharon Rice, Oologah, Oklahoma) (Really)
“Substitute politicians for road barriers.” (Steven Lenoff, Deerfield Beach, Florida)
“I have a secret plan. Make me president and I’ll tell you.” (Richard Nixon)
“Put it in the bunny.” (Travis Ranney, Seattle, Washington)
You wacky readers! I love you! Please stay away from my house!
But all kidding aside, the time has come for us to work together on this deficit thing. What can you do? You can write to your congressperson. Tell him you’re fed up with government irresponsibility. Tell him you don’t want excuses. Tell him you want action.
Tell him these are going to be very sharp electrodes.
BUG OFF!
I am sick and tired of our so-called representatives in Washington being influenced by powerful special-interest groups on crucial federal issues. As you have no doubt gathered, I am referring to the current effort to name an Official National Insect.
This effort, which I am not making up, was alertly brought to my attention by Rick Guldan, who’s on the staff of U.S. Representative James Hansen of Utah, at least until this column gets published. Rick sent me a letter that was mailed to congresspersons by the Entomological Society of America. (An “entomologist” is defined by Webster’s as “a person who studies entomology.”) The letter urges Representative Hansen to support House Joint Resolution 411, which would “designate the monarch butterfly as our national insect.” The letter gives a number of reasons, including that “the durability of this insect and its travels into the unknown emulate the rugged pioneer spirit and freedom upon which this nation was settled.”
The letter is accompanied by a glossy political-campaign-style brochure with color photographs showing the monarch butterfly at work, at play, relaxing with its family, etc. There’s also a list entitled “Organizations Supporting the Monarch Butterfly,” including the Friends of the Monarchs, the National Pest Control Association, the Southern Maryland Rock and Mineral Club, and the Saginaw County Mosquito Abatement Commission.
Needless to say I am strongly in favor of having an official national insect. If history teaches us one lesson, it is that a nation that has no national insect is a nation that probably also does not celebrate Soybean Awareness Month. I also have no problem with the monarch butterfly per se. (“Per se” is Greek for “unless it lays eggs in my salad.”) Butterflies are nice to have around, whereas with a lot of other insects, if they get anywhere near you, your immediate reaction, as an ecologically aware human being, is to whomp them with a hardcover work of fiction at least the size of Moby Dick.
But what bothers me is the way the Entomological Society is trying to slide this thing through Congress without considering the views of the average citizen who does not have the clout or social standing to belong to powerful elite “insider” organizations such as the Saginaw County Mosquito Abatement Commission. Before Congress makes a decision of this magnitude, we, the public, should get a chance to vote on the national insect. We might feel that, in these times of world tension, we don’t want to be represented by some cute little flitting critter. We might want something that commands respect, especially in light of the fact that the Soviet Union recently selected as its national insect the Chernobyl Glowing Beetle, which grows to a length of 17 feet and can mate in midair with military aircraft.
Fortunately, we Americans have some pretty darned impressive insects ourselves. In South Florida, for example, we have industrial cockroaches that have to be equipped with loud warning beepers so you can get out of their way when they back up. Or we could pick a fierce warlike insect such as the fire ant, although this could create problems during the official White House National Insect Naming Ceremony (“WASHINGTON—In a surprise development yesterday that political observers believe could affect the 1992 election campaign, President Bush was eaten.”)
Other strong possible candidates for National Insect include: the gnat, the imported Japanese beetle, the chigger, the praying mantis, Jiminy Cricket, the laughing mantis, the lobster, the dead bugs in your light fixture, the skeet-shooting mantis, and Senator Jesse Helms. I could go on, but my purpose here is not to name all the possibilities; my purpose is to create strife and controversy for no good reason.
And you can help. I recently acquired a highly trained, well-staffed, modern Research Department. Her name is Judi Smith, and she is severely underworked because I never need anything researched other than the question of what is the frozen-yogurt Flavor of the Day at the cafeteria.
So I’m asking you to write your preference for National Insect on a POSTAL CARD. (If you send a letter, the Research Department has been instructed to laugh in the diabolical manner of Jack Nicholson as The Joker and throw it away unopened.) Send your card to: National Insect Survey, c/o Judi Smith, The Miami Herald Tropic Magazine, 1 Herald Plaza, Miami, FL 33132.
Judi will read all the entries and gradually go insane. Then I’ll let you know which insect is preferred by you, The People, and we can start putting serious pressure on Congress. If all goes well, this could wind up costing the taxpayers millions of dollars.
In closing, let me stress one thing, because I don’t want to get a lot of irate condescending mail from insect experts correcting me on my facts: I am well aware that Senator Helms is, technically, a member of the arachnid family.
INSECT ASIDE
I wish that the critics who claim the average American doesn’t care about the issues could see the response we got to our survey about the Official National Insect. We have been flooded with postal cards from all over the United States and several parallel universes. Just a quick glance through these cards is enough to remind you why this great nation, despite all the talk of decline, still leads the world in tranquilizer consumption.
As you may recall, this issue arose when the Entomological Society of America, realizing that troubled times like these call for bold government, began lobbying Congress to name the monarch butterfly as the Official National Insect. Congresspersons received a glossy full-color promotional brochure pointing out that the monarch is attractive, ecological, educational, and courageous, having on several occasions disregarded its own personal safety to pull little Timmy out of the quicksand.
Or maybe that was Lassie. Anyway, the m
onarch butterfly appeared to have a lock on the National Insectship, because the Entomological Society of America is a powerful outfit. More than one person who has dared to challenge the society on a piece of insect-related legislation has found his automobile ignition wired to a hornet’s nest in the glove compartment.
Well, you can call me a courageous patriot with cruel yet handsome eyes if you wish, but I happen to think that when our Founding Fathers froze their buns at Valley Forge, they were fighting to create a nation where the National Insect would be chosen by a fair and open process, not in some gnat-filled back room. That’s why I asked you, the average citizen with no ax to grind and way too much spare time, to write in and voice your opinion.
All I can say is, it’s a good thing that some of you don’t have axes, if you get my drift. I refer particularly to the person who wrote: “My choice for Official National Incest is mother-son. Thank you for asking.”
Many of you voted for the dung beetle, the mosquito, and the leech, all of which were inevitably compared to Congress. I’m sorry but that’s a low blow: Our research indicates that no dung beetle has ever accepted money from a savings-and-loan operator.
Other insects receiving votes include: the earwig; the gadfly; the tarantula hawk wasp (which kills tarantulas for a living and is already the Official Insect of New Mexico); the maggot; the killer bee (as one reader put it, “We better start sucking up to them while there’s still time”); the scorpion; the pissant; the stink bug; the termite; “men;” the tick; the Stealth bomber; the nervous tick; a dead bug named Hector that was actually mailed to us; the screw worm; the fly (“Zip up, America!”); the weevil; the dust mite (“I want a National Insect I can unknowingly inhale”); the worm at the bottom of the tequila bottle; the spittle bug; “Those little moths that get into your cabinets and lay eggs in your Stove Top Stuffing which hatch and cause you to eat the larvae;” the pubic louse; the horned fungus beetle (“because it strongly resembles ex-president Richard Nixon, which makes stomping one into oblivion a special American experience”); Johnny Mantis; the Ford Pinto; Mothra; “any 13-year-old or my ex-husband;” the contact lens borer; the booger, the bug that goes splat on your windshield; and Ted Kennedy.
