The Experimental Memoir Day 12, Part 2
The Chamber of Commerce meetings almost feel like they come out of Sinclair Lewis’ Babbitt. They feel like they are dominated by upstanding older white men; perhaps not the captains of industry, but the lieutenants of local commerce. They are sincere well meaning supporters of the businesses in their local communities. They gather approximately monthly, for a breakfast in the ballroom of a large hotel near the interstate.
The breakfasts are better then many breakfasts that I’ve often had at conferences. They do run into the problem of having to be produced in bulk. The breakfasts are served buffet style. There are two long sets of tables running down a hallway. At one end of each set of tables are large piles of full sized white plates. These are followed by several large silver chaffing dishes full of various foods. One dish is full of light fluffy scrambled eggs. I’ve often wondered how these eggs are prepared. Are they made from a powered and whipped up and served? Does someone in the back actually crack hundreds of eggs open and pour the raw eggs into some giant bowl where they get beaten by an industrial sized mixer, and then poured on a grill to cook? They seem too uniform, too unvarying to be cooked this way.
The next chaffing dishes are filled with bacon and sausage. Years ago I worked at a summer camp with giant camp stoves. I remember food cooking on the large grills and imagine the rows of bacon and sausage spread out on the grill tops in the hotel’s kitchen. Some conference centers seem to get overwhelmed by the crowds and the need to prepare massive amounts of food over a quick period, and the bacon and sausage isn’t always cooked as much as I would like. I always worry about under cooked bacon and sausage. However, the bacon and sausage in the chaffing dishes at the chamber of commerce breakfasts are usually cooked properly.
Also on the tables are platters of muffins and Danish. This is a staple of many a conference breakfast. Yet too often, they have been stale, as if they sat on a table the day before for some other conference breakfast. Again, this has not been the case at the Chamber of Commerce breakfasts. Likewise, the juice, typically orange juice, grapefruit juice, and often some other juice, perhaps apple, tomato or grape juice, adorns the end of the table. At most conferences, the juice seems to be a safe bet.
Other conferences I attend often have packed food of one sort or another on the tables, although this is more common for a mid morning break. Sometimes there are small containers of individual serving of yoghurt or individually wrapped breakfast bars. These are normally safe but make the conferences feel a little more generic. At a conference at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN, there were unique ideas presented. One was of mixed nuts in shot glasses. Another was yoghurt with granola sprinkled on top in similar shot glasses. At times, they provided vegetables with some sort of dipping in similar glasses. All of which seemed much healthier and much more interesting.
As I gathered my food, I spoke with various members of the chamber. It was election day, and many sported little “I have voted” stickers on their jackets. I talked with them about how the voter turnout seemed to be going. Most said that turnout seemed light. Of course, it was early in the morning, and turnout is usually heavier at the end of the day. In addition, many areas were still recovering from a week without power, and some people may have been less inclined to get up early to vote.
I don’t know how many people in the chamber also hold elected office, but I suspect there is a good overlap and I wished one mayoral candidate that I recognized good luck at the breakfast. However, he ended up getting defeated at the end of the day.
One of the big issues in Middletown was about students voting. I remember when I was in college, registering to vote in the town I was attending college. I spent the most part of four years of my life in that college town. I ate there, in the college cafeteria as well as going into town to eat at local restaurants. I attended church there. In fact, with my interest in the varieties of religious experiences, I attended several different churches. I was involved in various civic activities in town. I don’t know who much most Wesleyan students get involved in the town they live in for four years, but for that matter, I don’t know how much people who live in Middletown get involved in their town either.
There were several articles in the town newspapers about whether or not students should be allowed to vote in the town they were residing in, so much so that at least one of the State Representatives and the Secretary of State weighed in, and local elected officials quickly corrected themselves in the local papers, only to then go on and make other misstatements about the voting process.
One person I ran into at the Chamber of Commerce worked at Wesleyan. He had voted already and was actively working to get the college students out to vote. I talked about the issue of the college kids voting in three different districts and pondered whether or not there were efforts to dilute the college student vote by splitting the university into three different districts. The time to redistrict is coming up soon, and we talked about whether or not the current districting should be challenged.
There are the normal traditional trappings to a Chamber of Commerce breakfast, the Pledge of Allegiance, the announcements and introductions. Depending on your perspective, it can be comforting and reassuring; things are proceeding the way they should be, even if there have been disruptions to the economy, to the power system, or simply to our sense of how things should be. To some, it can be monotonous; the same thing repeated meaninglessly and without feeling, month after month. To others it can be disconcerting; traditions propping up an old order of things that needs shaking up. Though I suspect that for most of the loyal attendees of Chamber of Commerce breakfasts, it is comforting and reassuring.
This month’s breakfast, falling a few days before Veteran’s day, was focused on the men and women that have served our country in uniform. Before the breakfast started, a local chorale performed patriotic pieces. The Governor’s Foot Guard was there to present the colors, and performed with the full pomp that has accompanied them for centuries. As an old bagpiper, I enjoyed hearing the pipes played as part of the ceremony.
Various veterans were recognized, including a World War II veteran wearing his uniform from over half a century ago. It was touching, but the words of “And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda” came to my mind
And now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
And I watch my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving old dreams of past glory
And the old men march slowly, all bent, stiff and sore
The forgotten heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask, "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men answer to the call
But year after year their numbers get fewer
Some day no one will march there at all
The keynote speaker answered the question, talking about how he had served in Vietnam and come home to find no crowds waiting to cheer him and his men and how he has vowed not to let that happen again. Yet he spoke with a decidedly political twist, talking about how important it is that the United States honor its commitments to the men and women that served in uniform. He spoke about making sure that we provided jobs for our veterans, and health and retirement benefits. He ended off with a touching story of a Vietnam veteran, recognized with a medal of honor, who was killed when he tried to rob a liquor store to get enough money to pay for medical coverage for his wife who was hemorrhaging as the result of a miscarriage. He ended his speech, which he gave without notes, perhaps because he has given it so many times before, to a standing ovation.
The story seemed so compelling that I thought it would be easy to find on the internet. I searched out the story and found a different version. The veteran had been killed in a liquor store robbery, but there was no mention of a wife hemorrhaging from a miscarriage and being denied medical treatment. Instead, the story was about a veteran who most likely had PTSD and had snapped. With any story, there is always more to it than is reported, and I wonder what the real story was, but without definitive sources, I didn’t link to it.
Whatever the story, the Chamber of Commerce meeting felt like it came right out of Sinclair Lewis’ Babbitt, from a day before Robert Putnam’s Bowling Alone. The men were sincere and well meaning, and while I felt a bit like an interloper from a different world, I have to respect their civic engagement and wished that more people from other walks of life were as engaged.