Bright and early this Friday morning, I received a call from United States Congressman Don Young – don’t fret if you have never heard of him, because before he distinguished himself during a candid interview on radio station KRBD this week, Don was the sole member of the House of Representatives for the state of Alaska, and his name was hardly a household word even here inside the Beltway. There are four hundred and thirty-five of those people, after all.
Tom: Hello, Representative Young?
Young: Yes. Is this Tom Collins?
Tom: Indeed it is, sir, how can I help you this morning?
Young: I… um… is it true you offer an… initial consultation… without… charge?
Tom: Sure – it’s great for business.
Young: That’s good, because, I mean gee whiz, your rates are astronomical!
Tom: You get what you pay for.
Young: Um… true… well… okay, I suppose you know… ah… why I’m…
Tom: You’re calling because you referred to undocumented alien Hispanic farm workers as “wetbacks” in a radio interview right when the Republican Party is trying to make nice to the one faction in the Democratic coalition they figure they have a chance of winning over to their side, I assume?
Young: I did what?
Tom: You referred to undocumented…
Young: No, no, not that part… the other part that came… after, you know?
Tom: You mean my reference to your particularly unfortunate timing?
Young: Oh. Is that what it was?
Tom: I beg your pardon?
Young: No, no, I mean… is that why they’re all so mad at me? Because really, I was just using my early experience on my father’s farm to explain…
Tom: Yes, that’s why they’re mad at you – and not because you said “wetback,” but because of when you said it. If you had said it in the Republican Party primary that selected Mitt Romney to run for President, nobody would have done so much a bat an eye. Now, on the other hand…
Young: Mr. Collins, you’ve got to help me! I’ve apologized until I’m blue in the face! I’ve knelt down and kissed so many fat behinds, my lips are in dry, pulsing and chapped agony! But none of it seems to work – they keep on trying to crucify me for it – my own people, my own party! I can’t take it anymore, and believe me, being crucified is one hell of a way spend an Easter!
Tom: Plus… the price is right.
Young: Yeah, there is that.
Tom: So why not? My compliments on your shrewd judgement, Congressman.
Young: Okay, yeah, so my problem is obvious.
Tom: It sure is.
Young: And they say you’re the smartest person in Washington.
Tom: Which is a lot like being the tallest building in Baltimore.
Young: Baltimore? That run-down Maryland port town full of Polacks, Jews and [expletive] up US 495?
Tom: Yeah, that one. And there’s your problem. First of all, Congressman, although Americans of Polish extraction do, in fact, refer to one another using the term you chose, and while there is, in fact, a famous hot dog stand chain in Baltimore known as Polack Johnny’s, it is considered to be in extremely bad taste for persons of other ethnic groups to use the word “Polack.” Secondly, Jews prefer to be referred to as “Jewish people,” unless they, too, are speaking about one another…
Young: They do?
Tom: Yes, and as for that last one…
Young: It’s in the works of Mark Twain, isn’t it? It’s in Huckleberry Finn!
Tom: So get yourself a time machine, go back to 1850, and use it there. Otherwise, never say that word, okay? It’s worse than “wetback.”
Young: But they call each other that!
Tom: Reference, please, my comment about Polish Americans. And furthermore, even them calling each other that word is a subject of considerable debate in the African American community.
Young: It is?
Tom: Look, Representative Young, I know that you are a well-intentioned, fundamentally decent person, and I can sympathize with your situation. I’ve listened to the interview in its entirety, and your remarks were obviously taken out of context. But that’s not the point with political correctness. The point isn’t your thoughts, it’s whether the words with which you express them are, or could be, potentially offensive to a protected class. And that’s your problem – that’s your real, essential, core problem.
Young: Okay, in that case, when apologizing over and over for saying “wetback” is getting me nowhere, what can I do to make this whole thing go away?
Tom: You need to write an op-ed piece.
Young: Me, write an op-ed piece? Hmph! All right, I see what you’re talking about… what’s stopping me? Hell, what could I lose at this point? The Speaker of the House has put this member of the House in the dog house, and if you have an idea that can get me out, I want to hear it!
Tom: In this op-ed piece, you should reiterate your observations about having been quoted out of context, provide some short – and I do mean short, no more that a four sentences, tops – highlights of the important issues you were speaking to the public about in that interview; apologize again for the umpteenth time in the most remorseful style you can possibly manage; and then suggest Twenty Five Derogatory Terms for Alaskans.
Young: I should suggest what?
Tom: Sir, before Sarah Palin, whenever we folks down here in the Nation’s Capital were introduced to someone from Alaska, we’d just say, “Great, that’s wonderful, tell me about what it’s like living there,” or something along those lines. Now, after Sarah Palin, most of us just want to say, “What in the world is wrong with you people?”
Young: You do?
Tom: Yes. And not all of those folks are Democrats, either. We all say something else, of course, but that’s what we’re thinking.
Young: I see. So what’s your rationale, again?
Tom: Well, actually, I haven’t presented that yet. Doing so wouldn’t be necessary in most…
Young: Be that as it may, nevertheless, I’d like to hear it, if you don’t mind.
Tom: Of course. The rationale is, that if, by an insightful application of self-deprecatory humor, you can successfully demonstrate what sophisticated, jocular and tolerant people Alaskans are by facetiously suggesting a list of things to call you folks, you will hold the scolds of political correctness up to comic ridicule, and thus defeat them.
Young: And you thought of this?
Tom: No, Voltaire did.
Young: Who?
Tom: François-Marie Arouet.
Young: Never heard of him.
Tom: And that’s a perfect example of why people like you hire consultants. Trust me on this. You have a grave, self-inflicted wound and you must down a very bitter dram to cure it. This is the prescription.
Young: That I say people should call us Alaskans… what?
Tom: “Snownecks.”
Young: But… that’s… um… reprehensible or something,… what would my constitutents think?
Tom: “Seal Shaggers.”
Young: Are you kidding? I couldn’t possibly…
Tom: “Beaver Bush Pilots.”
Young: Beaver what?
Tom: “Northern Lightweights.”
Young: Huh? That’s some kind of pun, right?
Tom: “Boreal Buffoons.”
Young: And that’s some kind of lower-forty-eight pussycat SAT question, isn’t it?
Tom: “Iditarod Idiots.”
Young: Now that’s just plain downright mean!
Tom: What, and “wetbacks” isn’t? In that case, how about “Huskie Huggers?”
Young: Um…okay, I gotta give you that…. that’s kind of cute, actually. Do you really think this could work?
Tom: “Sourdough Stuffers,” “Tundra Turkeys,” “Crab Trappers…”
Young: You know, that last one is sort of a back-handed compliment…
Tom: Minorities call white people “crackers” without realizing that it’s no particular insult. It just refers to the crack of a cattleman’s whip, that’s all. “Limey” just means that’s what the British Navy issued in their rations to prevent scurvy, and if the people who call themselves “rednecks” at NASCAR events had any idea what that’s about…
Young: Excuse me?
Tom: The original rednecks were radical Socialists.
Young: They were [expletive] what?
Tom: The organizers and members of the International Workers of the World, one of the largest, and also one of the first officially Socialist labor unions. In the nineteenth century, at demonstrations and strikes against the industrial robber barons, the criminal bank trusts and the corrupt government in Washington DC, they would wear red handkerchiefs tied around their necks. “Go get the rednecks;” the Pinkerton’s bosses would shout at their hired thugs, “kill those Commies for Christ, Lady Liberty and President Rutherford B. Hayes!”
Young: That can’t be true!
Tom: Which part of it, specifically?
Young: Uh… that we had a president named Rutherford.
Tom: Sorry, but… we did, in fact.
Young: Oh, all right… I’ll admit it… I wasn’t listening close enough to answer that question, actually. You were saying?
Tom: What I am saying is, you should shoot back with the proposal that Alaskans be referred to as “Polar Poltroons,” “Trailer Park Prospectors,” “Big Dipper Bozos…”
Young: Got a state flag reference in there, that’s not too bad…
Tom: “Snow Blind Sammies and their Muskeg Mammies…”
Young: Well, I got to hand it to you, there’s a family reference in that one…
Tom: Okay, let’s riff on the subzero motif here… ah… “Snow Machine Jockeys,” “Permafrost Peckerwoods,” “Frozen White Trash…”
Young: Hey, that’s kinda harsh, don’t you think?
Tom: I think it shows you Alaskans can take it as well as dish it out, though, doesn’t it?
Young: I don’t know, I’ll have to think about that one… “Frozen White Trash,” hmmm… We Alaskans would have to actually, really, totally, in fact… be… um…. what was it you said?
Tom: You mean, “sophisticated, jocular and tolerant people?”
Young: Um… yeah… and the truth is, I don’t know if enough Alaskans are really, totally, actually, you know… sophisticated and tolerant… I mean, the voters up here are jocular enough, make no mistake about it – they love a good joke, like when some guy gets hit real hard in the nuts or something, we laugh our butts off, make no mistake, but being jocular’s only what, one out of three, right? So I’m worried about that one, “Frozen White Trash,” because it… I donno… hits kinda close to home, you know?
Tom: Okay, so how about you depict yourselves as hapless victims, then, “Grizzly Bear Snacks,” perhaps, or “Mosquito Buffets,” “Klondike Wannabes…”
Young: Hey, wait a minute, are you implying the Canadians don’t like us?
Tom: Are you kidding? They despise you. As a matter of fact, after this call, I strongly suggest you contact the Canadian Embassy over a secure channel and ask if they know any good derogatory terms for Alaskans so you can include them in the op-ed.
Young: Oh, man… I never thought of that. What do they call us?
Tom: “Great Northern Hemorrhoids,” “Forty-Ninth State Fools,” “Forty-Ninth State Faggots,” “Forty-Night State [expletive]-ups…”
Young: Omigod! They call us that?
Tom: They call you worse… much worse. Want to hear it?
Young: No, no, I don’t think so.
Tom: Okay then, how about some regional stuff, maybe – you know, what you Alaskans could call each other. Things like “North Slope No-accounts…”
Young: Please…
Tom: “North Slope Ne’er–do–wells?”
Young: Er…
Tom: “North Slope Nincompoops.”
Young: I… I…
Tom: “Matanuska Morons.”
Young: Ah…
Tom: How about, “Southeast Panhandlers?”
Young: I…
Tom: “Bering Sea Bums.”
Young: That’s… hold on here…
Tom: “Yukon Yokels.”
Young: Mr. Collins, I… I’m not much of a writer myself, and these are extremely…. touchy subjects, to say the least. I don’t think I can write an op-ed piece like you’re suggesting and um… accomplish the goals you’re proposing. The bottom line is, on the one hand, I know I can’t write this op-ed thing you’re talking about and, on the other, I can’t possibly pay you to write it, either…
Tom: No problem. I’ll write it for free and e-mail it to you, and if you want to publish it as your own, well, I can assure you of the same level of confidentiality that I provide for all my clients.
Young: An interesting proposition, Mr. Collins.
Tom: My pleasure, Representative Young. Now, if you will excuse me, my private secretary informs me that a paying client has just arrived, so…
Young: Of course, of course, I understand. Thank you, Mr. Collins.
Tom: And thank you, Representative Young. Goodbye.