Bacon Scrapins – “It’s My Party and …”
by Barry S. Wolfe
Bacon Scrapins are the little bits of meat left in the greasy fry pan. They’re tasty, but the ‘nutrition’ needs searching for. This tale is a bacon scrapin.
All the kids from blocks around got together for a special event every year. In the rec. hall. They’d gather together for talk, drinks and foods from various cultures, because the kids on the blocks around had all come from away. From somewhere else, originally, and had lots of neat things to share with each other.
One highly anticipated event was the opportunity to meet in the main rec. hall to exchange their ideas about the latest issues of interest to them all.
The big kid that lived closest to the rec. hall thought that his ideas were best, because it was located closest to his house. “Nah!” said the kids. “We’re in this together, and you just get one say.”
“You never listen to what I want, and just do what you want.”
“Yup,” replied one, “that’s because your ideas are only about you, and what you can get from us, and not about sharing all our stuff. Because you have so much stuff, you don’t think you need to share with everyone.”
“I have been sharing my stuff.”, retorted the big guy, “And you still don’t do what I want. You need to show gratitude for the stuff I share. You need to show appreciation and humility, and do what I want.”
“Sorry,” replied another one. “It doesn’t work that way. The best ideas, those that are best for everyone, aren’t bought with money. They’re decided by all of us, by consensus or vote.”
“Voting doesn’t work. I usually lose the vote.”
“That’s because,” added another, “your ideas don’t serve anyone’s interest except your own. Your only interest is getting anything and everything you see. You have to learn how to get along in this big sandbox with others. There’s more kids involved than just you.”
“That settles it!” declared the big kid. “I’m cutting off any more money to support these meetings. I’m going to close this meeting room to anyone else. You aren’t invited to come anymore!
I’m going to start my own new group that will do what I want. It will be by invitation only. If I don’t like you, if I think you won’t do what I want, I won’t invite you. And, if anyone gets uppity, or challenges what I want, I’ll kick you out.
“It’s gonna be my party, and you’ll cry if I want you to, cry if I want you to. You’re gonna cry when I make it happen to you!”
“Works for us!” the group replied in unison. “You form your group of fellow bullies. Try to keep control of a bunch of autocrats like yourself. See how that works out for you eventually.”
One of the middle-sized guys said in conclusion, “You want to start your own party group of fellow bulllies or suck-ups. Understood. But, “Another way is possible: the arc of history isn’t destined to be warped toward authoritarianism and exclusion – it can still bend towards progress and justice.”
All the others looked at each other as if to say, “Who knew?” “Where did this mid-sized guy come from?”
To a fulsome round of applause, a kid said, “That’s the guy who’s always telling Corny stories with a meaningful punch line. He lives on Canuck Street, up a few blocks to the north! He might be worth listening to?”