The Money is Going Where?

“Senator Marker announces Blackfork to receive $450 million from Stimulus Plan to study effect of blind cave catfish on quality of water supply and to develop blind cave catfish farming for the American consumer.” – Congressional news release.

“Suppose you were an idiot and suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself.” – Mark Twain

Senator Marker plans to visit Blackfork to make his announcement concerning the $450 million that is about to be spent on the blind cave fish in surrounding caves. Unfortunately for him, one of the places he is planning to visit is the Whittlers’ Bench. Come join the fun.

Mayor Jenson proudly strolled down Main Street. His smile had never been bigger, even compared to the day he won his first election fifteen years earlier. Stopping each time he met someone, the mayor shook hands and slapped backs. Slowly but surely he made his way toward the Whittlers’ Bench.

“Wade, this looks like your chance for a big story. It ain’t ever day the mayor comes out of his office and walks down the streets. Seems like the only time he does is when it is election time, and elections are eighteen months off.”

Reaching into his pocket to retrieve his notebook, Wade prepared for the arrival of the mayor. “Now Claudel, it is time you put your nice face on. The mayor doesn’t come visit us much, but when he does, you know it is something important he wants to discuss.”

“Mr. Freeman, Mr. Johnson, Mr. Baker! It is good to see you men enjoying such a fine, sunshiny day. What a good day to be out enjoying our fine community.” Mayor Jenson puffed out his chest with mayoral pride. “I guess you’ve heard the news.”

“Mr. Mayor, we’ve been sittin’ here mindin’ our own business all mornin’. I don’t know how we coulda heard any important news like the news you hear.” Claudel couldn’t refrain from a little snicker.

Clearing his throat and throwing his out his chest, the mayor said with significant pride, “My office has just learned that Senator Marker will be visiting our community tomorrow. He will be making a very important announcement. I wanted to tell you boys first, especially you, Wade, since you need to write an article for the Eagle News.”

“You know, Mr. Mayor, I remember when Mike Marker used to run around these streets. I also remember how many times he was caught stealin’ stuff out of Leon’s grocery store. Things shore ain’t changed that much.” Burl didn’t even look at the mayor as he continued to whittle his block of pine.

“There’s one other reason I’m telling you boys first. Would you mind behaving this time?”

Friday morning burst bright and sunny. Blackfork had several out-of-town visitors in honor of the senator’s announcement. Press from Little Rock, Washington, D.C., New York, and other major outlets all arrived in a retinue with the senator not far behind. Television cameras were already stationed at the base of the courthouse steps.

Driving down Church Street, Senator Marker sat in a 1966 Mustang convertible he had borrowed from the local car collector, Willifred Hodges. Willifred loved to drive his cars in local parades. His Mustang had even been driven in the Cotton Bowl Parade in Dallas. People lined the streets to gawk at the local boy who made it big.

As Senator Marker climbed out of the Mustang, the crowds politely applauded. He promptly moved to the microphone and began a forty-five minute speech extolling the virtues of his favorite city, Blackfork, and how the city would soon become the biggest boom town in America due to the President’s stimulus plan and the senator’s foresight to get money added to the plan for Blackfork.

After he finished his lengthy speech, the senator moved down Main Street, kissing babies and shaking hands with the crowd. The closer he got to Main and 4^th Street the more his eyes fixed on the Whittlers’ Bench. Wade, Claudel, and Burl had not moved an inch during all the festivities—except for whittlin’, of course.

Senator Marker worked his way to the Bench. “Boys, I’m glad to see you again. I remember all the fine things you did for me when I was growing up in this fair city.”

“Mike, I also remember some of the stuff you did when you was a boy in these parts.”

“Uh, yea, but that was a long time ago. I’m here to tell you boys about something, so you can get in on the ground floor. There is going to be some research teams that are going to hit town pretty soon. Then right behind them will be some people that are going to establish catfish farms in all these caves. I thought maybe since you boys are so well respected in town that you could spearhead a reception campaign for our out-of-town guests. Then you could also get in on the catfish farming and make a fortune. It will require a little capital up front, but the rewards will be beyond anything you could imagine.

A smile crawled across Wade’s face. This is the moment for which he had waited. “Senator Marker, the mayor told us you were going to be in town today, so Claudel, Burl, and I did a little talkin’. After our talk I went up to the courthouse and did a little research. Do you know what I found? Just two months ago, just about the time you were makin’ your Stimulus Pork Plan, I found you bought thousands of acres all over this county. Now the funny thing is that caves are all over that property you bought. Then I found the day the President signed the Stimulus Plan you sold all that land.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. I want to spread the opportunity around to others. Why, I knew that land from the time I was a boy playing around in those caves. And, I also knew that if I didn’t buy that land, there would be someone else who would come in here and take advantage of you fine folks.”

“There’s one other thing I found, Senator. When you bought that land you paid $2,000 an acre. Just two months later you sold that land to the federal government. They paid $100,000 an acre. That’s pretty good profit for two months.”

“Yes, well now. You just don’t understand how the government works. I need to go, boys. It is awful good seeing you again.” Senator Marker moved away from the Whittlers’ Bench as fast as he could refusing to look back.

Burl glanced at Wade. “You got your article written yet?”

“Yep. As a matter-of-fact, I’ve already shown it to one of those fellers from the New York Times that came into town this morning. He took a look at it but said that weren’t newsworthy because that stuff happens all the time in Washington.”

Burl threw his block of wood down in disgust. “My pappy used to say that when chickens come home to roost, they better have a place to land or they will be in deep trouble. Ole Mikey Marker may be livin’ it up in Washington now, but he shore better not try to land around here.”