Length: 1100 words/4 1/2 minutes

I love modern conveniences—I would not want to be without them and I have no desire, as do many people, to wave a magic wand and be transported to live out my days in a past era—the time of King Henry VIII or ancient Greece for example.

I do like the many habits from the “old days” however—such as not talking about religion and politics at work and other such places. Unfortunately, since we have obviously chucked aside that admirable practice, we now live in a world that is awash in opinions—most of which, as you know, you have no desire to hear.

Back in the present day, I find one of the most annoying aspects of modern times to be political partisanship. No matter what the party, partisans are so chipper, so always in the right, and so eager to sway you. They latch onto a public figure and do not let go. I find this slaven obsequiousness odd. Did their mother not tell them, first and foremost, just to be themselves in life and not worship at the feet of others? Don’t they have any hobbies to pursue? I guess not…

Since politics is not my thing, I often wonder about those people who sit behind political figures as they deliver speeches. The whole set-up gives the distinct impression that we average folk are mere stage props—decorations for a politician as he pursues his aspirations. Why do we continue to let it happen?

I first noticed this during the 1992 presidential campaign. Whenever Clinton, Bush, or Perot spoke, there were invariably rows of people behind them on the risers sitting in rapt attention and adoration. This was true at every single speech. I am sure this started decades before 1992, but it was then that it took on a whole new dimension. It was suddenly serious stage management.

It was as if Hollywood’s best casting directors had lent a hand. It was all the more glaring because they were, unsuccessfully in my view, trying so hard to be so coy and subtle about it. These collections of our fellow citizens perfectly reflected the race, color, creed, gender, tall/short, and thin/stout mixture of whatever audience was being targeted that day. Even though we as Americans deny thinking of economic class that much, it was obvious that this was exactly what was going on in these events—there seemed to be no attempt to even finely shade it.

As an airline pilot I am a member of a trade union and I remember a colleague who went to one of these rallies as a representative of our local council. When he arrived though he was told by a campaign staffer to “lose” his necktie. Apparently he did not have the “right look” for the working class. Needless to say, he kept his tie on and and took a seat in the audience and not, as planned, on the stage behind the speaker.

It was certainly a peek behind the curtain of these spectacles. Had he been wearing a Case tractor hat and a nylon windbreaker with the emblem of Pipefitters Local 367 embroidered on it would that have meant that he was good to go?

How utterly and completely patronizing. Did they also expect him to be carrying a tire iron and sporting a menacing glare a la the longshoremen bosses from the On the Waterfront days when organized crime ran the dockyards?

A few days later I saw the same candidate speaking to a NASA group. Here the men had ties and yes, true to the sartorial standards of engineers, many were wearing short sleeve shirts. (As an aside, I went to college in the South and there I learned that one should never wear a tie with short-sleeved shirt except when piloting of course) It was then that it dawned on me just how much these good folk were being used as props—just like a potted plant on the windowsill.

Wouldn’t it be fun to throw a wrench into this choreography? Dress the union guys up in Burberry suits and gold cuff links. Put the Association of CPAs in tractor hats and Pittsburgh Steelers jackets.

The NASA rocket cadre could be gussied up as Iowa farmers yearning for more ethanol subsidies. Then we could watch as the campaign staff tried to sort it out and get everyone back in their pre-determined economic box.

Although people attend these events voluntarily and clearly need no permission from me to do so, I feel oddly sorry for them. Why is it that we who are cut from common cloth want so badly to bond with men and women who, with their power, talents, wealth, and influence are so unlike us? Isn’t the idea of representative democracy that instead of us being the cup-bearers to them, they as public servants should be serving us?

I do not mean to sound cynical. I treasure our democratic institutions and traditions, but I know my place in the ranks of the average and I hate to see my fellow citizens being taken advantage of in such a crude fashion.

It is even worse when the military is involved. Now if there were ever a captive audience this would be it as no doubt the commander had strongly suggested (which basically means “ordered”) the sailors, soldiers, and airmen to dress out for this duty. I remember these kinds of events being called “mandatory fun” when I was in the service.

Civilian or military, this cack-handed campaign stagecraft is also troubling because these props, no matter how carefully selected, are expected to do nothing more than behave like automatons. They are required to cheer on cue but otherwise do nothing more than sit there with a constant gaze of adoration on their faces. Maybe a little sign waving or applause at the right moments, but they are never to stray too far from their script as a statist prop. Creepy barely does justice to the spectacle.

Can’t the professional ad men and women who have crafted these events do better? Why have these props on stage if all they do is look like the planets circling the sun? Doesn’t anyone ever feel used by this? Why is it so bloody obvious?

Maybe the joke is on me. Maybe substantive issues are being addressed and I am too dimwitted to catch on…but I don’t think so. The ad men think that I will recognize men and women of my tribe—those of my same socio-economic class ( however humble that might be) on the stage and think that if my tribesmen are for a certain candidate then that is automatically good enough for my vote. Well sorry, I don’t buy that. We should expect better—both from ourselves and from our candidates.

“So wise guy” I can hear you asking. “What would you do if you were asked to join a rally of your preferred candiate?” Well, I can assure you that would never happen. Why? Because I would most likely use the time sitting behind a pontificating pol as he or she drones to take a nap. Now that would never fit into the screenplay!

Stay average!