Crazy People

This was Ben’s Saturday.

He was a guest on far right radio early in the morning. Then he addressed (in Spanish), “The Latino Crime Prevention Festival,” followed by an appearance at the Peruvian Festival, then a community meeting in Little Cottonwood Canyon. Sandwiched in were appearances at other events that I’ve forgotten and was never a part of.

In the midst of all this he approached a booth occupied by Ashley Sumner, Martha Camarillo and me. Ben was with other staffers, each of whom was trying to get his attention regarding one issue or another.

For a moment, in the midst of all that, you could see him collect his thoughts. A smile lingered, but his gaze was fixed at a point in mid air. Then he suddenly came to and looked down in my direction. His smile broadened and he remarked, "This will be a typical day until the election's over."

“If you’re lucky,” I replied.

Without responding Ben glanced at Joel, our field director, and asked, “Can I take my son to the Cottonwood event?”

Then he turned and headed for the parking lot with a couple people trailing behind.

I asked myself, “Where do we get people like this?”

Ben’s got an Ivy League law degree. So does his wife Julie. They’ve got contacts galore, and no one gave them any of this. Why not do less, earn more, and enjoy a far more private life.

And yet here’s Ben, pursuing a job piled high with challenges and the promise of grief. If he’s successful, come January he’ll be making less than he did five years ago. Only the occasional person will know his name and odds are that one person will have a complaint.

And strangely, this odd behavior isn’t just limited to Ben or Julie.

I looked to my right and saw Martha Camarillo. She was born in Mexico and is one hundred pounds of the smartest and prettiest Latina you’re ever likely to find. Ask yourself, “How hard did she have to work to graduate from college with honors and win admission to an elite law school?”

An admission she’s now deferred for a year while she and her fiancé work on Ben’s campaign.

Then I looked to my left and saw Ashley Sumner. She has a degree in public relations and a strong record of success. She’d asked me to look over notes she’d prepared for Ben’s next appearance. They were perfect... concise, informed, complete... the very essence of what Ben needed to say.

Who could believe that I might improve them?

Ashley is excessively smart with skills that could win her a career almost anywhere. So what is she doing? She’s working six day weeks in a windowless office at a job with one guarantee. It will disappear in November.

I don’t understand any of this, so I’ve come up with the single explanation that makes any sense.

Somehow I’ve surrounded myself with crazy people to whom the term “self interest” has no meaning.    

Please send help. The condition appears to be contagious.