Chapter II
Joe’s Office and The General
Joe loosely shuffled some paper work together. It was a ragged pile on the corner of his oak desk. He stood up, stretched and walked over to lie down on a tattered old brown couch. Like Joe, it had seen better days.
"We've both seen better day's," he thought.
He turned the radio on low, a habit that allowed him to concentrate on an issue. His mind was well organized, although the condition of his office today might belie that fact. Several torn magazines were thrown on a scratched coffee table. A pile of out of date newspapers stood stacked in a ragged pile in the corner. A half empty mug of coffee from the day before was the crowning glory of the mess. A mess that one might think reflected his character. It was not the case. Joe never stopped to take the time with things he considered meaningless.
“What the hell can I do,” he sighed. It had been five years. Five of the hardest damned years of his life, five long bitter years and they were still at his throat. Bit by bit they had chipped away at everything that stood in front of them. Rolling over everyone like a thunderous machine. Compassion and justice were unheard of phrases to them, unless it fit into their warped perception of business.
Joe had lost his clout entirely in town. They had convinced ,or replaced, the local council that their way was the only way to a prosperous Summit County. He indeed was a Sampson against a mighty Goliath, only this Goliath, was a Untied States Senator. He was alone in the fight that should have had the whole country on his side. No one cared anymore, if it wasn’t their back yard or wasn’t a loss to their profits then it wasn’t worth the effort.
“To hell with them all. I’m not going to lie down and let a faceless group of filthy rich corporate whores walk over me! Not as long as I have a few aces up my sleeve. No better time than the present to play my hand.”
He jumped up and walked briskly to the phone. Thumbing through his files, he pulled out a single yellow card. ‘General Matthew Dowe’ was printed in large black letters. The office number, extension and home phone number appeared underneath.
Two years ago the army needed a place to hold winter maneuvers, Joe had offered Arapahoe Basin to the ski troops. The Basin had been founded by the men of the 10th Mountain Division after they returned from the fighting in the Italian Alps in the Second World War. General Dowe had promised to return the favor, if the need ever arose.
“Anything ya ever need Joe,” he had laid his hand on his shoulder. “You hear me Joe! Anything at all!” he boomed. The heavy smoke of his cigar had risen and choked Joe.
Joe was desperate, although he hated asking for favors. He wasn’t sure what, if anything the General could do. A General in the Armed Forces should be able to come up with something threatening, he thought. Joe laughed out loudly as he picked up the phone. He was mentally picturing the entire Tenth Mountain Armor Division taking their corporate offices by storm. Arresting the Board of Directors for being Heartless Sons of Bitches, and the secretaries for putting you endlessly on hold.
“That’ll teach the bastards,” he thought. We’ll force them to have dignity and honor for the rest of their lives,” he said dialing the number.
“I wonder if he’ll go for it?”
* * *
My Greatest Audience, who loves a good story. We share a mutual desire to be adored. I as an older man, she (Pete) as a toy champagne poodle. (She never really liked Mr. Strump and hopes he never comes back.)
Once Upon A Time------ I dwelled upon a Mountain in a Land of a Thousand Suns. They were Great Rising Suns and I had a beautiful wife. She was the most beautiful woman in the land of light. Her name was Mom and we would rescue abused horses and heal them and set them free. We taught other people from all over the land to Rescue Horses.They were giants and we would sit in the evenings an watch the the suns set, but it was never dark for long because a new sun was always rising. We would listen to the thundering hooves as they ran wild up the mountain. The setting suns lights were so bright that when the horses galloped they would glow fiery orange. It was a land of peace and harmony and there were no evil warlords because all the good nations put a stop to the last bad warlords childish tantrum because like Humpty Dumpty he couldn’t put his nation back together again after its fall. And that's a good story right!
