Joe the Plumber: Lost in the House of Dreams

You never can tell what sort of thing may inspire a “comeback” (but don’t call it a…).

Some of you know I have been unraveling for a while now—those who know me really well probably can’t remember a time when I didn’t feel like this was happening. So, in that sense, I guess, yadayadayada, huh? As the yadayadayada has been happening, my writing (blogging, emailing, journaling), for the most part, has come to a stand-still, though up until about three weeks ago, I was putting a lot of time and energy into a personal writing project focused on my experience growing up as a sentient queerchild ; ) But now, even my work on that project has ceased, though I am thinking of posting parts of that endeavor here.

Anyway.

I compose blogs in my head all the time, but I have lost the ability to translate my musings to the screen. I was just doing this—composing a blog in my head—after reading an article about that stupid prick, Joe the Plumber, when I decided to give making my thoughts public another try.

Though I am now so disturbed by my own characterization of what I am doing—“making my thoughts public”—that I feel stymied all over again.

OK. Whatever.

Joe the Plumber.

Watching the final presidential debate, I learned that Joe the Plumber, McCain’s “everyman”, was considering purchasing the quarter-of-a-million dollar plumbing company that employed him (that is not like any man or woman I know, let alone everyman), but Obama’s proposed tax plan, should he be elected, was somehow going to keep Joe from fulfilling that dream. In between grunts, grimaces, and eye-rolls, McCain worked in as many “Joe the Plumber” references as he could, until I wasn’t even sure that this plumber was a real guy—I thought maybe McCain had resorted to some sort of biblical parable-speak.

But, no, turns out Joe the Plumber is, indeed, a real guy. Funny thing, though—he’s not a licensed or registered plumber.

His real name is Joe Wurzelbacher, and he’s been the focus of some major media attention ever since Obama visited his Toledo, Ohio neighborhood in order to greet voters and seek support. As Obama made his way through the neighborhood, Wurzelbacher challenged him about his tax plan and said that he wanted to buy the plumbing company that he worked for, but that Obama’s tax plan would make it prohibitive. Obama responded by explaining that he wanted to be able to give tax breaks to 95% of working Americans and that he wanted to help all the folks who were hoping to get a start in a small business (read: businesses with annual earnings of less than $250,000), and he mentioned something about “spreading the wealth around” (oh no he di’n’t)(oh yes he did).

So this Wurzelbacher fellow, our Joe the Plumber, in addition to not being an actual plumber, also seems in a poor position to purchase the plumbing and heating company for which he works, as his divorce papers show that he earned about $40,000 in 2006. Then, in 2007, there was a lien placed against him for about $1200 in personal property taxes that he hadn’t paid. So, although Obama’s tax plan would actually benefit this dumbfuck far, FAR more than McCain’s proposal would, he insists that he would not want Obama’s promised tax cut, should Obama be elected. It seems his delicate, working-man sensibilities were injured by this talk of “spreading the wealth around,” because Joe the Dumber buttresses his blustery claims with vague comments about socialism and about how it’s wrong to “take someone’s money because they work a little harder.”

Beyond how utterly pathetic it is, all these poor slobs who vote as if protecting some future wealth that they have not yet accumulated—and never will under the policies of the leaders they support—it nearly makes my head explode, this feeble-minded buffoon’s grasp of socioeconomics, not to mention his empty-headed parroting of the ridiculous notion that folks who make a lot of money work harder than those who make a little money. If hard work increased earnings, my grandpa—who worked sunup to sundown from the time he was a boy, until multiple strokes and bouts with cancer whittled him down to a whisper; who finally succumbed to death while digging up a weeping cheery tree just as stubborn and rebellious as he was: its branches refused to “weep,” thus my grandpa’s fight to uproot it that quiet April day—should have died with more money than Warren Buffet.

Another hard-work vignette: The people across the street from me struggle to keep their lights on, to heat their home, to eat. They earn a portion of their living from junking and scrapping—they scavenge dumpsters and trash cans, abandoned houses and empty lots, hauling, carrying, and dragging hundreds and hundreds of pounds of metal to their yard almost daily, where they disassemble it with brute force—smashing big things with sledgehammers and little things with claw hammers. They then separate the wheat from the chaff, so to speak, and haul the prized metals to the scrap-yards. I have seen them disassemble an entire car in a matter of hours. They do this work every day, sometimes until late into the evening. I often drift off to sleep and awaken to the same repetitive sound of hammer on metal, a ringing thunk thunk thunk in the air. This is hard work. It is heavy, dirty work. It tears skin and bruises knuckles and breaks backs.

These people are also pretty fucking scandalous, which I mention lest I have unintentionally painted too sensitive a portrayal or romanticized their scrappin’ ways. For example, soon after Elizabeth moved into the neighborhood, the oldest son in the scrappin’ house set her up to be robbed, as he had done for nearly every house on the block, including his own. So.

Back to Obama’s “spreading the wealth” comment … I am completely flabbergasted by the negative response this comment generated—all this wild-eyed talk of socialism and wealth redistribution, all this swooning and calling for the vapors. I got news for you motherfuckers: wealth is redistributed, it just moves from the bottom up, you know?

Same old fucking thing—as soon as there’s talk of moving wealth from the top down, it’s class warfare—just like William Sloane Coffin said:

When the rich take from the poor, it’s called an economic plan.
When the poor take from the rich, it’s called class warfare.

In a short email exchange with a friend recently, I lamented about all these folks who have been so negatively affected by the culture wars that they align themselves with the cruelest, coldest, most terrifying leaders. All this brainwashing, all this polarizing and factionalizing, all this effort to ensure that Americans somehow have less solidarity, as a people, than they have nationalism—you know what I mean? All this “proud to be an American” bullshit, all this “they hate us for our freedom” bullshit, all this “America is the best” bullshit, but then, somehow, Americans just hate the fuck out of each other, you know?

Worse, we don’t even hate the right people. The "American Dream" has been so deeply implanted in our psyches that poor and working-class folks most often recognize each other as competitors for an ever-diminishing slice of the money pie, when we should be recognizing each other as comrades (oh no she di’n’t) (oh yes she did). I mean, what level of delusion does it take for a loser like Joe the Plumber to think that *he* can join the ranks of the folks who slice the pie and, with it dripping from their soft, smooth hands, smear it all over their greedy faces?

Someone should tell Joe that around 20% of the American population owns 85% of America’s privately held wealth. And yes, this means that the rest of us—80% of the population—share the remaining 15% of American wealth. I mean, I don’t even know how to add commentary to those figures, because they make such a powerful statement all on their own.

Here’s another stunner: The richest 10% of the American population hold 85% to 90% of stock, bonds, trust funds, and business equity, and over 75% of non-home real estate. So, as the site I lifted these numbers from points out, that means that about 10% of our population owns this country.

The last set of statistics I will throw at you concerns the gap in annual pay between a CEO and an average American factory worker: this ratio rose from 42:1 in 1960 to as high as 531:1 in 2000. It was at 411:1 in 2005. You are, indeed, reading that correctly. So, for example, if a factory worker makes $25 an hour, the corresponding CEO rate would be $10,275 an hour. We live in a country where people can't afford health care, where people live on the streets, where people go to bed hungry, while other people are making $10,000 an hour.

Again, I have no words that could make those statistics any more meaningful or powerful than they are on their own.

And I am totaly bumming myself out, anyway.

My friend "the injector" invoked Bruce Springsteen in her last blog and talked about “The Rising.” I think that may be a nice way for me to wrap this up, as well—posting the text of this absolutely beautiful speech the Boss has been giving at voter registration events.

Peace.

I am glad to be here today for this voter registration drive and for Barack Obama, the next president of the United States.

I've spent 35 years writing about America, its people, and the meaning of the American Promise. The Promise that was handed down to us, right here in this city from our founding fathers, with one instruction: Do your best to make these things real: opportunity, equality, social and economic justice, a fair shake for all of our citizens, the American idea, as a positive influence around the world for a more just and peaceful existence. These are the things that give our lives hope, shape, and meaning. They are the ties that bind us together and give us faith in our contract with one another.

I've spent most of my creative life measuring the distance between that American promise and American reality. For many Americans, who are today losing their jobs, their homes, seeing their retirement funds disappear, who have no healthcare, or who have been abandoned in our inner cities, the distance between that promise and that reality has never been greater or more painful.

I believe Senator Obama has taken the measure of that distance in his own life and in his work. I believe he understands, in his heart, the cost of that distance, in blood and suffering, in the lives of everyday Americans. I believe as president, he would work to restore that promise to so many of our fellow citizens who have justifiably lost faith in its meaning. After the disastrous administration of the past 8 years, we need someone to lead us in an American reclamation project.

In my job, I travel the world, and occasionally play big stadiums, just like Senator Obama. I've continued to find, wherever I go, America remains a repository of people's hopes, possibilities, and desires, and that despite the terrible erosion to our standing around the world, accomplished by our recent administration, we remain, for many, a house of dreams. One thousand George Bushes and one thousand Dick Cheneys will never be able to tear that house down.They will, however, be leaving office, dropping the national tragedies of Katrina, Iraq, and our financial crisis in our laps.

Our sacred house of dreams has been abused, looted, and left in a terrible state of disrepair. It needs care; it needs saving, it needs defending against those who would sell it down the river for power or a quick buck. It needs strong arms, hearts, and minds. It needs someone with Senator Obama's understanding, temperateness, deliberativeness, maturity, compassion, toughness, and faith, to help us rebuild our house once again.

But most importantly, it needs us. You and me. To build that house with the generosity that is at the heart of the American spirit. A house that is truer and big enough to contain the hopes and dreams of all of our fellow citizens. That is where our future lies. We will rise or fall as a people by our ability to accomplish this task. Now I don't know about you, but I want that dream back, I want my America back, I want my country back.So now is the time to stand with Barack Obama and Joe Biden, roll up our sleeves, and come on up for the rising.