Bedtime Story
by Coinneach Fitzpatrick
28 December 1999
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"Well, Billy," the old man said, "what story would you like tonight?"
"I'm tired of the same old stories, Gramp," 10-year-old Billy replied. "You make one up for me."
"Me, make up a story?" Gramp mused for a few minutes, while Billy looked up at his grandfather from beneath the blankets. "Well, I suppose I'll give it a try. Don't expect much, though," Gramp said, grinning.
"It's OK, Gramp. You always tell good stories." Billy snuggled deeper into his pillow, and waited.
"Alright, here's one. Once upon a time-"
"Aw, jeez, not a fairy tale!"
"Nope, no fairies in this one," smiled Gramp. "This one is a tale of a land, long ago, but not real far away. The people in this land were just like you and me, but the way they lived was very different. F'rinstance, their Government only took about half of a man's paycheck before he got it. "
"Now I know this is make-believe," Billy said, laughing. "Didn't they take more like 90% of Dad's check before… well, before he went away?"
"Yep, they sure did," said Gramp. "But in that country, they didn't have nearly as many Government programs as we do, so the people who lived there didn't have to pay so much. Not only that, but a man could decide what job he wanted to do, and where he wanted to work."
"Really?" Billy asked, eyes round. "Didn't they have an Employment Division to assign people to jobs?"
"Nope. And if a man decided that he didn't want to do that job any more, why, he just told his boss that he was quitting, then went out and got another job. Man could spend his pay any way he liked. Most people paid their bills and took care of their families, then saved what was left, or spent it on things he liked."
Gramp looked out of Billy's bedroom window. Nothing out there to look at, Billy thought, but he liked listening to Gramp's stories.
"In that land, people could buy pretty much whatever they wanted, as long as they could afford it," Gramp continued. "People could even buy guns, and carry them around."
"B-b-b-but GRAMP! Didn't they go around shooting each other?" Billy sputtered. This was completely unheard-of!
"Nope. In fact, their crime rate didn't get bad until their Government decided to outlaw guns entirely. Except their own, of course."
Gramp fell silent for a moment.
"You know, Billy, you can be executed on the spot for not showing your ID to a cop, right?
"Yeah…"
"Well, in that long-ago land, if a cop asked for your ID, you could just tell him 'No' and walk away. Cops there had to have a good reason to go through your stuff, and they couldn't just take what they liked, at least until the Government took the people's guns away."
"C'mon, Gramp, didn't they have order? Wasn't the place just a loonybin?"
"Nope. In fact, it was a lot safer than we are now. People there lived by their consciences, knowing what was right and wrong, and acting that way. They didn't have the mandatory/forbidden laws like we do. Sure, there were a few bad apples, but they were taken care of, mostly by the good people... the people who just wanted to be left alone."
Gramps, teary-eyed, shuffled towards Billy's bedroom door. "I think about that land a lot just lately, Billy. Seems like I could actually go there, if I wanted to bad enough." Gramp shook his head, sighed, and said, "Goodnight, kiddo."
"G'night, Gramp."
A few minutes later, Billy's Mom poked her head in the door. "All ready for bed, big guy?"
"Yeah, I guess…"
Mom walked in with a look of concern on her face. "What's wrong, Billy? Didn't you like Gramp's story?"
"Yeah, but there's something I don't get about it."
"What's that?"
"Why's Gramp so broken up over a place that never existed?"
------------------
"The evils of tyranny are rarely seen but by him who resists it."
-- John Hay, 1872
by Coinneach Fitzpatrick
28 December 1999
------------------------
"Well, Billy," the old man said, "what story would you like tonight?"
"I'm tired of the same old stories, Gramp," 10-year-old Billy replied. "You make one up for me."
"Me, make up a story?" Gramp mused for a few minutes, while Billy looked up at his grandfather from beneath the blankets. "Well, I suppose I'll give it a try. Don't expect much, though," Gramp said, grinning.
"It's OK, Gramp. You always tell good stories." Billy snuggled deeper into his pillow, and waited.
"Alright, here's one. Once upon a time-"
"Aw, jeez, not a fairy tale!"
"Nope, no fairies in this one," smiled Gramp. "This one is a tale of a land, long ago, but not real far away. The people in this land were just like you and me, but the way they lived was very different. F'rinstance, their Government only took about half of a man's paycheck before he got it. "
"Now I know this is make-believe," Billy said, laughing. "Didn't they take more like 90% of Dad's check before… well, before he went away?"
"Yep, they sure did," said Gramp. "But in that country, they didn't have nearly as many Government programs as we do, so the people who lived there didn't have to pay so much. Not only that, but a man could decide what job he wanted to do, and where he wanted to work."
"Really?" Billy asked, eyes round. "Didn't they have an Employment Division to assign people to jobs?"
"Nope. And if a man decided that he didn't want to do that job any more, why, he just told his boss that he was quitting, then went out and got another job. Man could spend his pay any way he liked. Most people paid their bills and took care of their families, then saved what was left, or spent it on things he liked."
Gramp looked out of Billy's bedroom window. Nothing out there to look at, Billy thought, but he liked listening to Gramp's stories.
"In that land, people could buy pretty much whatever they wanted, as long as they could afford it," Gramp continued. "People could even buy guns, and carry them around."
"B-b-b-but GRAMP! Didn't they go around shooting each other?" Billy sputtered. This was completely unheard-of!
"Nope. In fact, their crime rate didn't get bad until their Government decided to outlaw guns entirely. Except their own, of course."
Gramp fell silent for a moment.
"You know, Billy, you can be executed on the spot for not showing your ID to a cop, right?
"Yeah…"
"Well, in that long-ago land, if a cop asked for your ID, you could just tell him 'No' and walk away. Cops there had to have a good reason to go through your stuff, and they couldn't just take what they liked, at least until the Government took the people's guns away."
"C'mon, Gramp, didn't they have order? Wasn't the place just a loonybin?"
"Nope. In fact, it was a lot safer than we are now. People there lived by their consciences, knowing what was right and wrong, and acting that way. They didn't have the mandatory/forbidden laws like we do. Sure, there were a few bad apples, but they were taken care of, mostly by the good people... the people who just wanted to be left alone."
Gramps, teary-eyed, shuffled towards Billy's bedroom door. "I think about that land a lot just lately, Billy. Seems like I could actually go there, if I wanted to bad enough." Gramp shook his head, sighed, and said, "Goodnight, kiddo."
"G'night, Gramp."
A few minutes later, Billy's Mom poked her head in the door. "All ready for bed, big guy?"
"Yeah, I guess…"
Mom walked in with a look of concern on her face. "What's wrong, Billy? Didn't you like Gramp's story?"
"Yeah, but there's something I don't get about it."
"What's that?"
"Why's Gramp so broken up over a place that never existed?"
------------------
"The evils of tyranny are rarely seen but by him who resists it."
-- John Hay, 1872
