Reappraising Arizona

Sir Harry, my employer in The Trade, had been quiet for some time. This usually meant that either things were very quiet, or he, Cheney-like, had been whisked off to some undisclosed location because things were far from being quiet. As it turned out, he had simply taken some vacation time where he had enjoyed swanning around the Costa Del Sol. (I found this out via Rachel's WRAITH software, which, by means of taking over a computer, allows me to find people, anywhere, anytime. Wonderful stuff.)

"I need a report," stated Sir Harry, never one to waste time in pleasantries.

"Nice tan you've acquired," I replied.

"How did you --"

"Uh, uh. That would be telling."

A long pause, followed by, "Well, we'll put that aside for now. What I want to know is what is going on in Arizona."

I said, "The media is full of what is going on in Arizona. Some of the stories are even accurate. You don't need me on this one."

"Actually, you're right. But I would like to hear an assessment from your contact there."

This stymied me. "What contact?" I asked.

"There was this sheriff you got to know when you were reporting on illegal immigrants. Dupstick or Dipstick or something. He spoke sense then. Maybe he can speak sense now."

I thought for a moment, then it hit me. Clarence. Clarence Dupnik. The sane sheriff in Pima county in contrast to the out of control Joe Arpaio in Maricopa county. (Cf. Appraising Arizona, entry for May 1, 2010).

I told Sir Harry I could have a talk with Clarence Dupnik, but this would necessitate a trip to Tucson.

"Just do it quickly. Use Grimsby if you have to. The Home Secretary is interested in this one for some reason."

I got in touch with my pilot on retainer, Hank Grimsby, and shortly was in the Lear heading for Arizona. I booked in to an inexpensive but clean-looking motel near the centre of town, slipped into jeans, western boots and my 'Truckers For Christ' T-shirt, and sauntered off to meet Clarence, receiving some approving glances by the way. I mean when in Rome....

My outfit certainly impressed the deputies, and I had no trouble getting right in to Clarence's office.

He looked up, took in my appearance, and said "Really, Simone?'

"Helps to pass unnoticed. You OK?"

"I've been better. I enjoyed our first meeting. How is Ms Hatt? And the immigrant woman, Maria, wasn't it?"

"It was. Tilly is doing just fine. As for Maria, she stayed with us awhile, helping her cousin Consuela. Shortly after, she met a young Guatemalan man who was just entering a metal-bashing course somewhere. She decided to do the same thing, and now both are gainfully employed at a Guatemalan auto-body shop. Apparently she is somewhat of a genius at spot welding. Who knew?"

Then we got down to business. I was aware that Clarence had spoken of the need to use the tragic shooting of the Congresswoman, judge and the others -- a nine year old girl, for Heaven's sake! -- as an opportunity to dampen down the fierce rhetoric between the American right and left. He also stressed that President Obama had given perhaps his finest speech ever urging the same thing. Sadly, it doesn't look like pleas such as these will work, and the good Mr. Dupnik made the following points.

First, the National Rifle Association views this as a marketing opportunity, with the NRA urging everyone to acquire more weaponry in order to be more adept at self-defence. (Well, that crazed organization would, wouldn't they?) Secondly, while the Congress cooled down a bit, the radio talk shows didn't, and even Clarence found himself pilloried for trying to calm things down. And then there was Sarah Palin.

Clarence is always fair, and he stated that Palin had begun her remarks in a reasonable and even- handed way. All was fine, and if she had simply signed off at that point, she would have gained stature.

She didn't, and out came the reference to 'blood libel'. Clarence hastened to say that he doubted very much if Palin had the slightest idea of what the term meant, but rather had evolved it all on her own. I tended to agree. Sarah Palin would not be the first source I would go to for data on medieval Europe (although she does seem, from time to time, to hail from the 14th century). Therefore she would have been unaware that the term applied to Jews using children's blood to prepare Passover matzo. The term's usage by Palin ignited a firestorm, and saner Republicans lamented that the Jewish vote was now a lost cause. Not that it was any hell to begin with.

On hearing all this, I leaned forward and said, "Clarence, my good friend, I can state truly that I admire your courage in speaking out, and at least attempting to put forward a position with reason and integrity."

"Yeah," he said glumly. "But the next election for sheriff doesn't look good."

"Oh, you might be surprised. and I brought you a little Russian message."

I handed him a piece of paper. He read it, then said, "A Russian wrote this?"

"Yes. A poet. Yevgeny Yevtushenko."

"I will tape it to my desk. And thank you."

What I handed to him was this:

"How sharply our children will be ashamed taking at last their vengeance for these horrors, remembering in how strange a time, common integrity could look like courage."

Might want to tape that to your desk, too.