From Both Sides, an Earful

Feb. 4, 2007
Chris Satullo
Inquirer Editorial Page Editor

The scene: Two coworkers eat lunch at the Down Home Diner. Logan (split pea soup with hog jowls) lives in the city. Wayne (the meatloaf platter) lives in the suburbs.

Wayne: Can you believe those yahoos on City Council? Changin' rules in midstream just because their horse is behind in a poll?

Logan (looking up from his soup): Don't go there, friend.

Wayne: Don't go where?

Logan: Do not spoil my tasty lunch with a smug suburban lecture about how bad and corrupt my city is.

Wayne: It's my city, too.

Logan: Really? Last time I looked, Radnor was way on the other side of the line. Out in burbland, Wayne, your kids go to nice schools. Your trash gets picked up twice a week, no muss, no fuss. I'm happy for you. But the only one at this table who lives in this city is me; the only one who's got any right to talk about City Hall is me.

Wayne: Yo, Logue, get a grip. Have you noticed who sits in the cubicle next to you, right on Market Street? Me. I work here. I pay that wage tax, too. Nearly 4 percent out of my paycheck.

Logan: Yeah, which is less than what I pay. And why shouldn't you pay to support all that stuff you like to drive in and use: the Kimmel, the Linc, the museums? Plus that comfy SEPTA train you ride while I'm on the subway.

Wayne: Logue, you're killing me here. Four percent. Thousands a year. Don't you think at least a little of that goes to pay for the cop car on your street, the teacher teaching your kid? But I get no say about what goes on at World HQ for Pay-to-Play? Didn't they throw that tea into Boston Harbor over that kind of thing?

Logan: OK, so you've got an interest in the city. But you know the old line about the ham and eggs breakfast? The chicken has an interest. But the pig? He's committed. So am I. Me and Denece, we're making a stand. This is where we've lived and loved and where our kids were born. We love our neighborhood. We love the trees, the old bricks, the way history just seeps up out of the sidewalk as you walk along. We got stores owned by people whose names you know, not the same
ol' chain stuff they got in Topeka. The 'hood's got spirit. We know everyone; they know us. All kinds of people. Some nicer than others, but we pull together to make it work. 'Cause if we didn't, it would fall apart. No way out in Radnor do you have to work so hard. Out in Radnor, the punks don't hang on your corner, trying to drag your kids into hell. Out in Radnor, they don't take a year to fill a pothole. The builders don't decide the vacant lot next to you looks like
a great place to dump their debris for free. When was the last time the sewage backed up in your basement, Wayne? The last time you went to a civic association meeting?

Wayne: Hey, I coach soccer on Saturdays. Don't scowl, Logue; I'm kidding. I hear what you're saying. But do you get what I'm saying? I love this city, too. I want it to work; I need it to work. It's my home, too, my kids' home. I don't get so hung up about lines on a map. I hear you on how frustrating it gets. So here's my question: Why don't you ever vote the bums out? Time after time, the whole sick crew just gets re-elected, no harm, no foul. No wonder they treat you
like chumps. That drives me crazy. It's my tax money they're wasting, too. To help you, I don't mind paying. But to line some hack's brother's pocket so he can pretend to do a job at the airport for twice the price it should take to do it for real? Hey, no! You know how city 'tood comes across in Radnor? Send us your money, then shut the hell up. You plastic people have made the morally inferior choice to live out in the land of Houlihan's, unlike us gritty, gutty, real city folks. As your punishment, plastic people, we get to raid your wallets whenever we like.

Logan: And you know how suburbanites come across, Wayne - not you, but a lot? You're all animals, druggy, gun-waving thugs who kill each other over sneakers and live like pigs. No clue that most people in this city are decent folks who just want to work hard, live on a nice block, send their kids to a good school, just like you.

Wayne: I agree, Logan. That film-at-11, bleeds-it-leads crap screws up perceptions. Hey, let's make a deal. Let's be partners. I'll bring your message to the 'burbs, defend the good folks, take on the know-nothings. I'll support taxes that make sense. But you got to do something for me.

Logan: What? Wayne: You've got to take on the crooks, the hacks, the lazy bums. Throw 'em out. We did that last year out there, a few of them, over that pay raise in Harrisburg. Know what? That gets their attention. Couple of 'em lose their jobs, the rest start behaving. Just throw a couple out, Logue. Then we can have a new deal, a new partnership. Whaddaya say?

Logan: Worth a try. Deal.