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Also (n This Tssuc Exilc On Main Slrccl    '

Nobody knous vou wiicn vou're barcloot and cold and wrapped in blue plastic    .    \

By GARRISON KEiLOR*

Oct. 2, 2000

Kwas in Chicago reccntly, in frónl of a big crowd, and gave the foLks the chancc to sing a song (to the tune of The Battlc Hymn of tlie Rcpublic), and tlicy went for it like il was ffee beer.

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Ifs tinie for workiug pcoplc to risc up and defeat The brokers and t.lic bankers and the media elite And all tltc cducated buins in paneled Office suites And throw thcin in the Street. _v Peoplc sang this with great glisto, even tho swelis down front in the S60 seais. They sang verses denouncing liie Hast Coast liberał aristocracy (which rhytnes with Washington. D.C.) and "Wc'll take them out of First class and with n iuighly diccr/ We'll send them to the rcar" and a verse about Bush and Gore ("We'11 make them work the nigiit shifi in a 7-Elcven storę/ And lot Lhcm clcan the toilets and let them scrub tbe iloor") and another verse agaiust ^,Jthc media, thosc inighty millionaires/ Who \vcavc tlieir little llctions sitting on their derrieres" and the chorus, of coufsc, about truth inarching on. The rabble gol liighly aroused, and sonie peoplc couJd hardly contaiu their joy as they sang:

Lefs rcvcrsc the social order— oh, wouIdn't it be cool? Down with liianagement and let tlie seeretaries nile. Let the-cleaning ladics sit around the swiniming pool, Send the hosses back to scliool. -Of coursc it was only in lun, but there was real beat in the crowd, good old populisra biowing off stcain. and after tiie conceit. włien the limo took me back to the hotel. 1. slumpcd down in the scal lest ! bc seen.

Everyone knows thal in this country, if you havc nothing, nobody waots to havc anytliing to do with you. and if you havc CYcrything you could possibly want, peoplc can’t do cnough for you. The rich are showered with lovely gifts; tlie poor scrapc hard for bus farę. A Park Avcnue divorcc easc is fought by \ piatoons of talented lawyers; a man up for murder in Texas is represcnlcd by a clown in a grecn polyester suit. The hemonhoids of the wealthy are treated JiJkc diainonds, while the poor lic gasping in hospilał hailways. The guiding principlc of American lifc is: don’t dare not havc money.

On the other band, populist tiiough you.be, you dcn't entrust your lifc savings to a fncndly guy named ^ Bud wliom you met this moraing at the bus depot. You prefer men named Calvin who work in buildings with pillars.    J

? Ycars ago, I did a publicity tour for a book tiiat started crceping up the bcst-seller list, and as it erepl higher, my accommódations got nicer and nicer until l was staying in stately hotcls willi rcal art on the wallś and towels as big as blankets and wherc the answer to everv ąuestion is. "Yes, sir. My pleasurc, sir. Right away. sir." Black Lincolns waited at the curb, maitre d's whisked mc to seeluded comers, and i ncver saw a bill. Livervthing was handled quietly, out of sight. 1 went around for a week with $40 in my pockut, mispent.

Aftcr the tour, 1 wc.nl to a friend's bouse at a fainous ski resort in Utah for a weekend, a half-million-dollar house with timbered ceilings and high Windows with vicws of snowy peaks and tali pines. And here, alonc on a ciuli March aftemoon, I discovered what ifs like at tlie bottom A simple tale. After lunch, I tcok off all my clothes and went out to the hot tub. and the door closed behind mc and locked.

1 sal in tlie hot water for an liour or so, thinking tiiat Santa might drop in, or the Lone Ranger. or Sl Judc, and wiicn they didn’1. i wrapped mysclf in a blue plastic tarp off tlie woodpile and trudged (barefoot) down the rond (gravel) and knockcd on doors and pleaded for help.

A nakcd man wrapped in blue plastic docs not win friends casily. I knockcd on the doors of five iiomcs with lights on and cars in tlie dru eway, and nobody sliowed his face. What Mark Twain said is truć: Clollies make the map. Nakcd peoplc havc little or no influence in society. 1 waved in an urgent way to three men diTving by in a pickup, and they managed not to make cyc contact and drove on. At Uie fiflh house, a woniąn came to the door and opened il a crack. She agreed to cali my fricnd's officc. Slic didn't invilc me in, rhou.gh I was siiivcring. or offer tea or a lift back to tlie hot-tub house. l'd been schmoozing on national TY tlie week beforc, and now I was a pariali in Utali.

1 hiked half a mile back to the hol lub and was rescucd an liour later. and tiiat was tlie parable of the nakcd man in the blue plastic. The morał is: Have mercy when youYe riding high: tliings have a way of changitig suddenly. Ever sińce tbeu, 1 have braked for the naked.