City Councilors George Ansbach and Sheila Black Petrovich sit across from each other in the back booth of Brown’s Lunch Counter. They are waiting on two constituents, members of the Cemetery Board, to convene their quarterly meeting, Sheila’s last in her capacity as city councilor.
George stirs his coffee, “You know, national politics — state politics — how do they survive in such festering petri dishes, the jousting and backstabbing?”
Sheila nods. “It is curious. What little history I’ve read says elections and running governments have always been contentious and unkind. We have had national periods of consensus, but that’s the exceptional juxtapositioning of crisis and strong leadership. We are back-biting little creatures when it comes down to it! We can’t expect philosopher-kings and loyal followers. We’re human beings, after all. Now, if we were ants or whales, well, that would be a different thing altogether.”
George snorts out a laugh. “I guess we in Warhaven just try harder to cooperate.”
Sheila continues, “I think of — ahhh — 1856 when abolitionist Senator Charles Sumner was beat to an inch of his life on the Senate floor by an irate pro-slavery Representative Preston Brooks. Of course, the issue of slavery led to our Civil War, to Brooks the moral issue was a corollary of states’ rights”
George nods.
She smiles, “When you see your neighbors, your constituents, every day, it’s a hard decision to waste their trust. On the national level, they’re a bit like mad dogs. Even John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, both conscientious founding fathers, they couldn’t turn the other cheek and agree to disagree. The election of 1800 was a mud-slinging fest. Adams was a fool and a tyrant and Jefferson an atheist and a coward. The slander they employed! Joe McCarthy didn’t just pop up in the woods like a mushroom! Or — maybe I mean he did — that there is this mycelial network of the land — barely perceptible to society at large — that is as much American as is corn and beef and baseball, that racism, xenophobia, jingoism and fear are as much a fabric of our nation as any benevolent themes around general welfare.”
George breaks in, “I’ve read that in America there’s always the ‘twain unbridged,’ that we need opposing camps, contention in intention. But that’s just human nature.”
Sheila offers her Mona Lisa smile, “In Warhaven we have been lucky — blessed — to have had the pluck since day one to foster kindness among us.”
George sighs, “War gives the soldier a true picture of what peace looks like.”
This silences Sheila, who knows of George’s horrid bouts with PTSD.
George shakes his head. He smiles at Sheila. “We do live in Brigadoon! I sure am going to miss you on the city council! But, life goes on, madam. Count ourselves lucky to live in a place where our children appreciate and foster a balanced symbiosis between competition and cooperation, where the ideals of democracy ride even with the demands of capitalism.”
Sheila stares at George. “Amen!”
Judy Wallingstadt and Leonardo Sanchez walk in together. They join the two councilors. The four commence their meeting. Foremost on the agenda is the growing trend in the mortuary business of green burial. They all know for a fact that Todstadt’s Mortuary is not as robust as it once was. Fewer families want expensive funerals or lovely coffins from Lyon Chapman Casket and Bat Company. Celebrations of life now mean public park picnics or backyard barbecues, not rented limousines and satin shrouds.
Leonardo mutters, “Even in death, the economy marches on. You can buy a casket online now! The middlemen are tightening their belts another notch!”
“So,” asks George, “How should the city proceed with writing local code and in lobbying for progressive state laws to adjust to the new world? You’ve all had a chance to look at the website, the Green Burial Council?”
“Hmmm,” Judy thought, “If we embrace green burial, we can cease to require burial vaults and perhaps require no embalming and a cardboard coffin or perhaps just a canvas or hemp shroud. And, we need to consider cremains, not so much on the regulatory side, but on adjusting burial lot sizes.”
Sheila nods. “Yesterday I spoke with Hen Chapman on this topic. They are adding a line of softwood caskets, but he believes for reasons of faith constraints, for vanity and in opposition to change, their high-end products will continue to be in demand. They are expanding into cardboard products as well.”
Leonardo smiles, “I’m the note-taker. Let’s get some language down and make some recommendations for the city council.”
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