Under the Sun
Hunkering down before
an uncertain stormA little girl asked if the dozen or so people sitting at tables in front of the stage at Ala Moana Center on Saturday were famous. "No," I said, "famous" is much too grand a designation for the Star-Bulletin staffers who were on hand as the newspaper celebrated the opening of its consumer convenience office at the mall.
"Famous" fits the renowned -- movie stars like Jennifer Lopez and Brad Pitt or political figures like George Bush (father and/or son) and Donald Rumsfeld.
Even though many of us whose photos and bylines appear regularly in the paper may be recognizable, I don't think we could accurately call ourselves famous. Otherwise, we'd not have needed the little name tags clipped to our chests. Humorist Charley Memminger and men-about-town Dave Donnelly and Ben Wood may appropriately claim celebrity, but for the most, we're really just working stiffs, much like anyone else who puts in a 40-hour or so week for a paycheck.
And like hotel desk clerks, dry-wall installers, waiters, loan officers and book sellers, we're all holding our breath and crossing nervous fingers as the president hauls our country toward a war with an outcome as cloudy as the reasons for it.
There are certainties. People will kill and be killed. People will suffer even as we attempt to relieve their misery. Some will grow to hate us even more; others will be cowed as the only superpower in the world wields carrots or sticks until they re-jigger their policies to fit our political needs.
A secondary certainty taps at our pocketbooks. Experts know war will damage the economy; they just can't predict the extent of losses. Hawaii and most state governments post-9/11 already find themselves drained of revenue and with no help coming from the federal bank accounts since tax "rebates" formulated for political gain, and ill-conceived spending notions will leave the country with trillion-dollar deficits through the next decade.
Consumers -- who have been the economy's little engines that could -- are running out of steam. Many who had jobs in January don't today, while 1.9 million Americans have been without work for more than six months. I've never been unemployed for that long. I can't imagine having to endure the frustration and loss of worth that comes with not being able to find a job.
News people often joke that we're useless for anything else but journalism. (There are politicians and some in the public who think we are anyway.) But I suspect that behind the banter, we realize that the work we do is so much a part of our nature that separation would be wrenching. We've got ink in our blood.
I wonder if this push for war, this militancy, has coiled itself similarly through the veins of the president and his advisers. Since 9/11, Bush and his soldiers have been marching on to war, bearing a cross of righteousness so fiercely they can't break off. Have they been so seduced by might? Has the horror that stilled the president's eyes when his chief of staff whispered into his ear the tragic clash of airplanes and skyscrapers spoiled him for temperance? I don't know.
I know Saddam Hussein is a cruel dictator, a man who cares little for the people he is supposed to shepherd. I know he is deceptive, greedy and savage. I know the Iraqi people can't do worse for a leader. But I don't know that there's no other way to get rid of him other than to endanger his people with bombs and bullets, too.
So we sat at the tables arrayed near a stage of a shopping center to promote the Star-Bulletin, cheered that we're still working at a newspaper that two years ago seemed doomed to shut down. But we worry because our jobs, like yours and so many others, are tied to the economic future of a world headed for war and uncertainty.
Like storm watchers, we keep an eye on a hurricane veering toward us and hope that it spares us its worst.
Cynthia Oi has been on the staff of the Star-Bulletin for 25 years.
She can be reached at: coi@starbulletin.com.