Jack Kemp played ten years in the old AFL. During his career Kemp tossed 114 touchdown passes and 183 interceptions. His average pass covered 6.9 yards, not great by the standards set years later by Dan Marino, John Elway, and Brett Favre.
Kemp made out better in politics. He served in the House of Representatives for many years and ran for the White House with Bob Dole in 1996. Dole & Kemp went down in defeat to Clinton & Gore, though when Clinton got caught up in the Lewinsky mess Kemp got the last laugh. At least he didn’t have to answer embarrassing questions about cigars and semen-stained dresses under oath and surrounded by high-priced DC lawyers.
Like most arch-Conservatives, Jack Kemp is horrified that John McCain will be the GOP’s standard bearer in November. In the end, Kemp will hold his nose and support McCain – as will other staunch Conservatives, like that fat toad, Rush Limbaugh -- but that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. In fact, Kemp is as depressed as a Buffalo winter.
I came across the following Kemp quote in a recent edition of the Nation: “…those who would weaken our nation’s defense, wave a white flag to al-Qaida, socialize our healthcare system, and promote income redistribution and class warfare instead of economic growth and equality of opportunity.”
I happened to be on an airplane flying to San Jose when I came across this twaddle, and when I burst out laughing the flight attendant immediately came over to see if I needed anything. Apparently, it’s no longer acceptable to laugh out loud aboard an airplane.
“Jack Kemp is an idiot,” I said, pointing to the quote. The flight attendant raised her eyebrows, concerned now that I might be dangerous. “Does he really think things could get worse if the country doesn’t elect another right-wing pinhead? My God, how’d this fool ever get elected to Congress? ‘Socialize our healthcare system.’ Does this pecker-head have any idea of the disgrace that our for-profit health insurance system has become? We don’t provide care, we specialize in denying care. That’s what for-profit health care does best. The more care the big insurance companies deny, the more dough they make.”
I was warming to my subject now, building a head of outrage and the flight attendant was clearly worried. A routine morning flight from Santa Barbara to San Jose was turning into something ugly.
“And how about this ‘class warfare’ horseshit?” I asked the flight attendant. “What does Kemp think has been going on in this country for the past twenty-five years? It’s class warfare alright, an all out pitched battle against the middle-class and the working-class by free market ideologues. Redistribution of wealth my ass. We’ve redistributed – to the wealthiest citizens. Tax cuts for the rich, subsidies to corporations, no-bid contracts for cronies! Is this what Kemp means by ‘equality of opportunity?’”
“Sir,” the flight attendant said, glancing nervously toward the cockpit door. “Please take your seat and fasten your seat belt.”
Whoa, I didn’t realize I’d risen from my seat, or that I was shouting or that my fellow passengers were staring at me. This wasn’t good, not in fascist, reactive, Gulag-loving America. I had a quick vision of Dick Cheney coming at me with a cattle prod.
I smiled at the flight attendant, spread my arms wide, just your average, un-armed American. “It’s OK,” I said. “I’m fine. My medications will kick in any second now. I suffer from Terminal Outrage, a result of seven years of Bush-Cheney and all the pig-headed, reactionary, and un-American policies they have shoved down the throats of good people. They’ve shrunk the great America heart to the size of a raisin! I love my country and I want it to live up to its ideals. I revere Thomas Jefferson, Lincoln and FDR. I’m fine, really, go back to your laptops and Blackberries. I’ll keep it together for the remainder of the flight. Don’t forget to vote this November. Vote as if your life depends on it. Vote your pocketbook. Vote for your children and their children. Thank you for listening.”
I sat down, buckled my seat belt and pulled the Sky Mall magazine out of the seat pocket. The Nation would have to wait until I was locked safely in my hotel room. I began flipping the glossy pages, through electronic mole zappers and $1500 BBQ grills. Yes, a little consumerism to calm the nerves. I’ll see you in Hell, Jack Kemp, you and the rest of the architects of American inequality.
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