Chapter 6: Starting Out in the Ownership Society

              I call this chapter “Starting Out in the Ownership Society” since this tells about our (Alice, myself and Fifi) first days in the ownership society.  As you know from the last chapter we stayed at the pass until dusk waiting to see if anyone was coming to Western Washington.  As you already know, the “Great Migration” was one sided.  From my notes (did I tell you that I take notes?) I have the exact words Ike said as he surveyed the long line of cars waiting to pass into Eastern Washington. 

“Today, a mighty stream of humanity yearning for personal freedom is flowing into Eastern Washington.  The people have spoken, and we are humbled in their presence.  May almighty God bless this moment, and give us the strength to govern wisely.” 

Since Alice and I were part of this “mighty stream of humanity” we seemed to be going in the right direction.  Personally, I wasn’t sure about how much “yearning for personal freedom” was in my soul.  I was happy living in Seattle, but Alice said that I had lost so much of my personal freedom living in Seattle that I wouldn’t know “personal freedom” if it came up and bit me on the rear end.   She said that once I got it back, I’d realized what I had missed.  Well, I’ll tell you, Fifi sure found out what it meant to be bitten by personal freedom all right.  If doggy ghosts could come back I’d sure like to hear what Fifi would have to say, but that’s a story for another chapter. Well since it was getting dark, and we had to drive all the way across Eastern Washington to Spokane, we decided to stop in Ellensburg for the night.  (Oops, I forgot that I was going to tell you about sleeping facing east, so I’ll do that now so as not to be a liar, and then I’ll continue my story of our first days in the ownership society).

            I never knew this man, but my Uncle Bob did.  Uncle Bob lived in Montana for awhile back in the ‘30s.  Uncle Bob was a “jack of all trades,” but that’s another story.  Montana is where he met Joe Norris, whom he referred to as “Shorty.”  Now, no one in that part of Montana used their real names.  Uncle Bob was called “Slim” and the others had names like “Bushy” and “Smokey.”  Joe Norris always insisted on sleeping facing east.  Joe claimed that he could feel the spinning of the earth, and since he got sick if he didn’t ride facing forward, he had to sleep facing east.  The fellows wanted to nickname him with a name that reflected his compulsion to sleep facing east, but they couldn’t think of a good one.  He wasn’t particularly short either, as Uncle Bob related, but since all the other nicknames were taken they settled on “Shorty.”   Shorty was perfectly normal otherwise, in fact, he was better than normal according to my uncle.  He was smart, handsome, had money, could cook most anything, and didn’t mind doing the dishes.  On top of all of that he was an excellent dancer.  As you can guess, he never lacked for woman friends.  Most people would think that a minor thing like always sleeping facing east wouldn’t matter much in the face of all those good qualities, but as I will relate to you in the next paragraph, it was his “Achilles’ heel”.  If you don’t know what I mean by “Achilles’ heel,” look it up on the Net.  I didn’t have to, since I learned all about it going to the movies.  Rent the old movie “Troy” if you don’t have access to the Net.  Time goes too fast – it’s hard to believe that Brad Pitt is middle aged.

            So in review, Shorty was a woman’s dream with one minor flaw.  He wanted to always sleep facing east.  Actually wanted is too kind of a word according to Uncle Bob.  He simply had to sleep facing east.  His first wife was called Grace and she was a looker.  Everything went smoothly until the honeymoon.  That is, until the last part of the honeymoon.  They took the train east to Niagara Falls.  Since the tracks faced east, he could sleep in the Pullman car facing east.  But, when they continued south to New Orleans he was stuck.  He hadn’t yet told Grace about his slight problem.  Well, it turned out that the only car he could sleep in sideways was the baggage car, and it didn’t help that the train was carrying 1,000 live baby chickens south.  Do I need to tell you that sleeping alone didn’t go over so big with Grace, dancing or no dancing?  Right now you are probably thinking the same thing I was thinking at the time, when I asked Uncle Bob the following question.

 “Uncle Bob, if he got sick if he didn’t face the way he was traveling, why didn’t he face south?”  Uncle Bob just laughed.  He said, “Why?  You’ve had more schooling than me; you should know the earth is spinning much faster eastward than that train was moving south.” 

Well, that shut me up for a while.  Anyway, the honeymooners survived that part of the trip, but it got worse after that.  I’m worrying that I’m taking too much time with this story, but Uncle Bob said that there is only one thing worse than a poor story, and that is an unfinished poor story. That said, I’ll continue.

            New Orleans went really well as they could always find a hotel to sleep in where the bed faced east.  Grace had forgiven Shorty by that time because he was the perfect man otherwise.  I wonder if Fifi has forgiven Ike?  Well, to get back to the story, Shorty and Grace returned north to Montana with Shorty sleeping in the baggage car.  Grace and Shorty lived happy lives in Montana and raised several kids.  Of course, all this time their bed faced east. 

Everything would have been okay if a lecturer on space travel hadn’t come to their small town.  During the lecture it was mentioned that the earth spun on its axis at so many miles an hour, but the earth itself was traveling around the sun much faster, and the sun was traveling through the solar system even faster, and the Milky Way even faster than that, and so on and so on and so on.  I guess that you get the idea.  Uncle Bob said that Shorty was awful quiet after he came home from the lecture.  The next night he moved the bed around to face south.  The next night after that, he moved the bed to face north.  The next night he moved the bed three times, the night after that twenty times.  Grace had to move into the front room to get any sleep.  They were at the point of separating when Bushy saved their marriage.  By this time Uncle Bob had left Montana, but he got the end of the story from Bushy, who was always ready to relate the story of how he saved their marriage.  Shorty had become unglued because he couldn’t figure out which way to face, so Bushy rigged up Grace and Shorty’s bed on a turntable that rotated slowly, turned by a motor all night.  This could lead to another story of how Bushy’s grandson invented the turning restaurant in the Space Needle in Seattle, but I have to get back to my story of our first days enjoying personal freedom. 

            The first thing that I noticed as I left Snoqualmie Pass was the lack of a daytime speed limit. There was a suggested limit for nighttime of seventy mph which we couldn’t make use of since we were pulling a trailer with some of our stuff in it.  The next day I learned more about the personal freedom speed limit in Sprague, Washington.  So as I started to say, we drove to Ellensburg that night.  We stopped in a small, older motel.  Alice always said that people got more personal treatment in the “mom and pop” places.  When I was registering at the office I noticed a handmade sign that looked like a circle with a line across it over an odd looking little man.  When I looked closer, it wasn’t a real man, but a kitchen sponge with a face, arms and legs.  Curious about it I asked, “Does this mean no using sponges for cleaning up?”

Flabbergasted at my ignorance he asked, “Haven’t you heard?  It’s a sinister plan to convert children to the (then he leaned over close and whispered in my ear) lifestyle.” 

Now, this is where I will switch to the historical fiction mode, where I use single quotes and odd indentations to indicate the rest of the conversation is for historical purposes.  This is necessary since I didn’t take notes, as my notepad was in the car.  Now, I also have to tell you that I was confused about what “lifestyle” a sponge represented, but I didn’t want to show my ignorance on my first night in my new home.  I also have to interject something here before I relate the rest of the conversation.  It occurred to me as I was telling these stories that maybe a teacher would use part of my book as a history lesson for high school students. So, to have this story suitable for that purpose, I’ve bleeped out some of the words in the following historical rendition. 

Him: ‘You don’t know about Spongebob Squarepants?’

Me:  ‘Spongebob who?’

Him:  ‘Bleeping Spongebob Squarepants.’

Me: ‘Come again?’

Him: ‘Spongebob Squarepants.  He’s a cartoon character.’

Me: ‘Is that right?’

Him: ‘Damned right.’

Me: ‘You don’t say?’

Him: ‘He and his friend Patrick are always holding hands, if you get my drift.’

Me: ‘Patrick?’

Him: ‘Patrick the starfish.’

Me: ‘A starfish?’

Him: ‘Damned right a starfish.  It’s damned unnatural.’

Me: ‘Oh.’

Him: Leaning closer and lowering his voice, ‘They’ve adopted a bleepin’ clam.’

Me: ‘A clam?’

Him: ‘Damned right, a clam.’

Me: ‘Oh.’

Him: ‘The bleepin’ devil is always working, 24/7.’

Me: ‘You don’t say?’

Him: ‘Where’re you heading to?’

Me: ‘Spokane.’

Him: ‘From?’

Me: ‘Seattle.’

Him: ‘Welcome to the bleepin’ land of opportunity and personal freedom.’

This is where I stop the historical account and restart our story.  I was as confused as I was at the start of our converstaion, but it was late and I was tired.  When I got into bed I asked Alice if she knew about Squarepants and Patrick.  I rolled over and fell asleep when she said, “Squarepants who?”

            The next day we headed towards Spokane.  Personal freedom was great.  Cars passed us like we were standing still.  Whoosh, one after another.  It seemed like everyone was enjoying personal freedom.  I was anxious to get the trailer off and see what the old car would do.

You know how on the side of the road where someone had died in an accident, how a cross sometimes marks the site?  Noticing this I said to Alice, “Don’t you think there are a lot of crosses along the freeway, more than the usual number?” 

“I’m noticing that myself.” Alice replied. 

We drove on a ways until we noticed a sign just before Sprague advertising the best pies in all of Eastern Washington.  Neither Alice nor I can resist a good pie so we turned off at Sprague and pulled up at the local café.  I glanced in the window just to see if there might be a “No Spongebob Squarepants” sign there.  Satisfying myself in that the coast was clear, we opened the door and went in.  Alice likes to sit at the counter if there is one, and this being an old fashioned café, there was a nice bar with high stools.  While we were eating our pie, we struck up a conversation with the owner.  This conversation is interesting enough to switch to historical mode.

Me: ‘How’s business?’

Him: ‘The restaurant business is okay, but I’m thinking of hiring someone else to run it.’

Alice: ‘You don’t say?’

Him: ‘I do say.’

Me: ‘Why’s that?’

Him: ‘My other business is booming.’

Alice: ‘What business is that?’

Him: ‘Funeral home and burial service.’

Me: ‘Funeral home?’

Him: ‘It was just a sideline.  Not too many people died around here – an occasional farm accident.’

Alice: ‘Farm accident?’

Him: ‘You wouldn’t want to know.’

Me: ‘What changed?’

Him: ‘No speed limit on the highways.  I have a nice sideline in white crosses.  Would you like to see our selection?’

Me: ‘I don’t think we’ll be needing one.’

Him: ‘I guess you won’t, pulling a trailer and all.  Of course, you could get a blowout, or fall asleep.’

Looking back on that conversation, if I knew then what I know now I would have bought one for Fifi.  He made them out of cedar so they would last.  It was a nice touch and Fifi would have appreciated the gesture.

“This is the land of opportunity.” Alice said.  “Ike was right.  Giving more freedom to the people will open all kinds of business opportunities.  Maybe you could build crosses as a sideline to painting houses?”

I didn’t answer, as I already had a sideline in taking notes, but I was really careful to watch the cars zooming by and to listen for a tire going bad.  I’m all for promoting business, but I wasn’t ready to help an undertaker in an up-front and personal way.

Finally, our trip was ending as we pulled into the long driveway of our new house and property.  I’m adding about the property since that was the reason we bought what we did.  We had a nice house in Seattle, but only a small yard.   Alice was sure that Fifi would enjoy country property, with lots of room to run.  I’d only seen Fifi run to the food dish, but I liked the idea of having room to roam myself. 

We hadn’t actually seen the property first hand, but Alice’s sister had and was sure we would love it.  Alice’s sister wasn’t right about much as far as I could tell, but she was right about this.  As we drove along the tree shaded lane, we could hear a brook babbling away, birds were singing, and the sun was shining through the trees.  It was beautiful.  The house was small, but it had a nice porch with a view across a meadow to the brook.  Alice, Fifi and I could fit in just fine.  If the Ownership Society meant owning this beautiful spot, I was all for it.  The property around us was mostly woods and meadows – it was dreams of ours come true.  Even Fifi was excited.

That evening, while Alice looked out from the porch, she talked of how this was a new start for us.  I’d have plenty of business as a house painter with all the people moving eastward from Western Washington.  She was feeling especially generous as she even thought that I might make some money from my notes.  So we ended our first full day in our new surroundings full of hope and promise for the future.  Even Fifi looked as full of hope as a dog can be, but I guess it’s lucky that a dog or anyone else for that matter can’t know the future. 

“This is all ours,” Alice said, “we own it and we can do anything we want with it.  No one can tell us what to do on our own property.” After that first evening time passed and not much of interest happened in the fall, except that I found work and we settled into our new life.