Vic Socotra

16 February 2009

The O-Man

(Scales of justice and Fairness)

The morning started with a meeting with the Ombudsman. It is a double Monday, since this Tuesday starts after the federal government had the day off to honor the dead Presidents and we were supposed to be in the office looking like we were working.

I hate it.

The last thing I wanted was a quasi-legal meeting to start what is left of the working week. I think he should just leave me alone and let me do what I want, but he claims his job is to protect the readers and protect me from getting in over my head. That is what an Ombudsman is supposed to do- serve as a designated internal mediator whose duty is to assist with conflict resolution and other problems. My O-man is a pain in the butt. He is fiercely independent and is always making unsolicited recommendations to improve the Socotra organization’s effectiveness and efficiency.

I think he is pure overhead, all cost and no benefit, but the legal staff says it is important to dodge potential litigation.

“I live over my head,” I said grimly. “This is serious stuff. The Republic is at stake.”

The Ombusman looked disapprovingly at the ashtray on the Mission-style desk. “Where you live is your own business, at least until the Carbon Footprint legislation is passed. You and your Marlboros will be headed for the ash-heap of history.” He pressed his fingers together and made that pious phony-baloney face that irritates me.

“Like yesterday. You claimed the President signed an executive order that would permit the Hamas leadership of Gaza to come to the United States at the taxpayer expense.”

I bristled immediately. “Listen: he did sign an administrative order on the 27th of January and it was published in the Federal Register on the 4th. I had to dig pretty deep to find it, and there it was. It was a modification to the Migration Act of 1962. What was I supposed to think it was about? Baby food? And why did the White House site not have any information on it, when it was clear that someone had snuck it into the Federal Register to make it legal. We used to do that all the time about jobs we wanted to fill and hope no one would notice.”

The O-man pursed his lips. “Despite the relative lack of fanfare, the President did authorize the expenditure of $20.3 million in emergency funding for immediate humanitarian assistance to Palestinian refugees and conflict victims in the Gaza Strip. That was in support of Middle East special envoy George Mitchell, who is attempting, against all odds, to broker a sustainable and durable cease-fire in Gaza.”

“Fat chance,” I said. “This is insanity. We bankroll the Israelis with $5 billion and they use it to smack the loonies who are shooting rockets. We bankroll the Egyptians with the same amount, and they stand around and watch the Palestinians tunnel under the border that they closed. Then we throw millions at Gaza for relief after they launch a thousand rockets at civilians. This is nuts.”

“It may be nuts, but it is bi-partisan lunacy. You well know that the $20.3 million in new emergency funds, $13.5 million will go to the U.N. Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA), $6 million to the International Committee of the Red Cross and $800,000 to the U.N. Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs. It augments $85 million the Bush Administration anted-up in December before they left town. A little spade-work on your part would have made that apparent.”

“I know it now,” I said. “And I will clean it up. But listen, I refuse to use slander all the time. I rejected that piece on the President changing the oath of allegiance for the military. That was a clever psyop twisting the old story about Hitler making the German army swear allegiance to him. I did not lean on that thing about White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emmanuel using his personal foundation to dodge real estate taxes on his house in Chicago. And I completely dropped that whole thing about the President not being a citizen because his mother was a little disorganized while she was moving around the world marrying foreigners.”

“I'm sure the President appreciates it. You did not apologize to Mr. Emmanuel for asserting he is a tax cheat. The Cook County assessment office says that his property is a double-lot and that accounted for the discrepancy. $13,000 was paid to the County last year.”

“Just because he wasn’t cheating on that doesn’t mean he isn’t a tax cheat. Who else would declare himself a foundation?”

“Cool off, Vic. All the politicians do it to enable them to use campaign contributions for things the rest of us have to pay for. The last thing Socotra Enterprises needs at the moment is a tiff with the Executive Office of the President. You are out of your league if you take on the Chicago machine. And don’t you have to file taxes this year, too?”

“Don’t remind me. I remember Dick Nixon and the way he used the IRS to get even with people who crossed him.”

“Well, true enough. It is my opinion that if you maintain some sort of balance and perspective on these matters, I think we can let the Hamas matter slide. The First Amendment has not been amended, and it is not like Hezballah is not already in Dearborn, and controlling the distribution of un-taxed tobacco from their stronghold in North Carolina.”

“The haven’t taken away our word processors yet,” I said grimly. “They will have to pry it out of my cold dead fingers.”

“All in good time, Vic. Don’t panic yet. This is all too interesting. Thank your lucky stars that you live in interesting times.” The O-man gathered his papers together and stuffed them into his briefcase. I lit up a Marlboro and exhaled a large smoke-ring.

“Thanks for wasting my time this morning. I was going to do something witty about the North Koreans and the next Taepo-dong missile launch while Secretary Clinton is touring Asia.”

The O-man stopped as he reached the front door to leave Tunnel Eight. He glanced back at me, looking thoughtful.

“You know, the President had a press opportunity on Air Force One, headed back to Chicago last weekend. He is trying to keep some perspective by staying out of town when he can. Washington can drive you mad, you know, and you need to take a look in the mirror once in a while. You are pretty close to all this, and you ought to step back and get some perspective. The President told the reporters he was going to help the country take the long view. He said there are certain moments in history when significant change is possible. Not a certainty, but a possibility.”

“That is precisely what I am afraid of.”

The O-man chuckled. “Stay vigilant, Vic, but stay out of trouble, Vic. Don’t trust anyone. Check your sources. And keep a hand on your wallet.”

“I’ll do that,” I said ruefully. “But there isn’t anything in the wallet except plastic.”

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