POLITICS: Fundraising in the suburbs

So Bob Gates from down the street wants another $600 of my money for the war against the Iraqees. On one hand, I'm tickled pink -- it's not like I've signed over a blank check to the military -- this civilian guy actually comes round every now and then asking. Like this morning. At first I thought it was the day manager from Safeway who had become quite down at heel. Bob didn't look so good. There he stood on the stoop smoothing his shirt and brushing off some dead leaves from his silver hair. For some reason this struck me as charming in the manner of Wolfowitz. I felt my heart melt slightly. He said I had already preapproved $500 of it and this request was only for $120. I got out my books and checked. His tab was at $1500. Actually, not a lot of money for three and a half years, so you had to figure this was coming. I have Bob sort of budgeted as an inevitable suburban expense, much like school fundraiser items from a catalog. But when you get to thinking about it, at least you get tacky items when you support the schoolkids. With Bob, it's always Freedom this and freedom that -- he never wants to talk about himself or his past -- but you get the feeling the money is going down a black hole instead of to the Hottentot government.. Mrs. Reardon who lives kitty corner to us says Mr. Gates has disreputable associations and ithe money doesn't even get to where it's supposed to go. I don't believe it. Well, the long and short of it is that I gave him the old B of the D, as we say. "All right Bob," I says pleasantly enough, drawing myself up from my writing desk and handing him the check. "I hope we'll see some democracy pretty soon. Tell those Hottentots to shape up."