The Age of Bubba
by Dante DeAmicis
I
see we are getting another flurry of hype about us entering the Age of
Aquarius. Unless you are into horoscopes I say, "Don't you believe
it." We have entered the Age of Bubba.
"Bubba"
is an archetype coined by columnist Molly Ivens. He has limited education
and market skills, but is used to pulling his own weight.
Bubba
didn't actually exist as separate from the mainstream until recently.
In his glory days, he got an assembly line or equipment operating job with
a "good company" there were plenty in that fondly remembered era and
was set for life. For those with low ambition to go with their low
skills, there was plan "B" government jobs.
Having
a house, cars, and a good pension was easy if not your birthright.
Throw in a work-at-home wife, and those were the best of times.
But
all good things must come to an end. As the economy went sliding
irreversibly into the service sector, the only new "high pay" jobs required
highly skilled workers although the legal bottom-feeders continued to
prosper. Worse yet, many old jobs went into the toilet and were flushed
out of the country.
What's
a Bubba to do? It's tough not having a future when the past was so
sweet. At first, Bubba was embarrassed and humiliated, shuffling
off to his McJob, and then, maybe, to his second McJob. When he realized
that things weren't going to get better, and no one in government seemed
to even acknowledge that this new underclass even existed, Bubba got angry.
There
were plenty of real and imagined villains to blame, whether he understood
all of what was happening or not. He voted for term limits and anything
anti-immigrant sounding. For the first time in his life, he voted
Republican.
Still,
the politicians and pundits didn't get it. It was all a Republican
plot. They also didn't see that Bubba now had company.
Middle-management
jobs were being vaporized right and left, with no end in sight. Most
would bite the bullet, retrain, and take lower paying jobs. With
more understanding than Bubba, they resented government's "business as
usual" attitude. Although they were less likely to be first time
Republican voters, they became less discriminating, electing half-wits
like Sonny Bono to Congress.
Small
business owners chaffed at thanklessly being held responsible for carrying
out mandated social legislation. They were Republican-leaning before,
and became solidly Republican. They told Democrats that they were
not getting to heaven on their backs.
Recent
college graduates, seeking entry level jobs in places where Bubba used
to work, found that, sans skills, their degree plus ninety cents would
get them a cup of coffee. Once, this crowd was good for ten years
of Democratic idealism before caving in to the G.O.P. Now their vote
was up for grabs.
All
these groups are honorary Bubbas.
These
wounded classes don't just reflexively vote. They also support the
new creature, "Hate Radio", whose programs consist of hosts spewing torrents
of venom, and howling testimonials from victimized callers. Opposing
viewpoints are ridiculed, and their holders abused. There is no pretense
of fairness, only of giving Bubba his day.
Rather
than make some effort to understand what is happening, the keepers of wisdom,
with access to printed ink or a microphone, daily demonize the Bubba-pandering
DJ's as a disease. But, if they are going to prescribe any more of
their quack cures, they had better learn how to distinguish a disease from
a symptom.
How
does all this bode for Libertarians? Not very well, unless you're
bent enough to see a Libertarian as just an improved Republican.
Bubba
and his fellow-travellers are angry, fearful, humiliated, and very insecure.
He fell asleep in a "Leave it to Beaver" world, and woke up to "The American
Dream meets Godzilla". He has little interest in and even less patience
for abstract ideology -- the specialty of Libertarians.
Politicians
and media-folk haven't gotten the message yet. If we could only get
rid of a few divisive Republicans and "hot talk" radio jocks, why things
would be as right as rain. It's not going to happen. Instead,
whoever best promises a strong, no-nonsense government that will straighten
things out will win the heart and mini-mind of the Bubba block.
From
history, I know where this will lead, and I don't want to be around when
it gets too real.
Riddle for
Chemistry Students
by Professor Cottingham, San Antonio Jr. College, circa
1966
What's this?

(The answer is given on page 3.) |
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Buck Hunter shoots off His Mouth
Dear Buck
I have trouble going to sleep at night. What do you suggest?
Wide Awake
Dear Wide Awake
Lay very near the edge of the bed. You'll probably drop off immediately. |
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Smitten With Embarrassment Dept. (rarely used)
by Sam Aurelius Milam III
In
the March issue, I stated that the zip codes aren't in the Yellow Pages.
An alert reader directed my attention to pages 34 and 35. The smart
aleck was right! There they are. Zip codes. Drat!
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