Don, we see you.
We, too, are made of flesh and bone. We are not perfect, and we have the same tendencies, but we steer clear of questionable ones. We are the toilers, the wage earners dutifully making 30 years of mortgage payments, acquiring Medicare and sailing off into the sunset with our spoils.
We wait breathlessly as you utter edicts or sign with a flourish documents that affect us. You’re a simple sort and we are patient with your ilk, but Mitch and Paul know better. They are flesh and bone, too, and we see through to their dark hearts. Pearly whites gleaming on capitol steps, villainous comradery and congratulatory smiles. You toss us a bone with the tax bill but abscond with the dog house.
We see you. Stalin’s reign of terror? Yours, though subtle, is of the same make.
W. Heath, Arroyo Grande