Friday, October 26, 2007

The Spies

#312b The Spies

This was back during World War II. Maxie got a few bucks, working as a Fuller Brush Man in places like Maspeth and Ozone Park. So we went and got this radio.

Gorgeous Radio. From the Lafayette Radio guys. A record changer on the top. A huge loudspeaker, and a receiver that got both regular radio and shortwave.

Gorgeous radio. Deep red-brown mahogany cabinet. Automatic tuning. The works!

One day Fat Chickie comes to the door. He’s the repair guy from Lafayette. Says he has to make a “slight adjustment” to the radio. Maxie says there’s nothing wrong. Gets everything just fine. Plays the records just fine. Fat Chickie says “no, office says I gotta make some adjustments.”

Okay. In he comes with his tool box and his bald head and his gut. Squats down behind the radio, fiddles with a few things and then says “okay, all fixed.” Maxie says “let me try it.”

Now, the shortwave, which worked fine this morning, isn’t working so well. In fact it’s not working at all.

“What did you do to my fancy radio?” he asks.

“I disabled the shortwave. Orders. Sorry.”

“Orders? That’s what I left in Germany.”

“If you’re still here after the war, we’ll come put it back,” says Fat Chickie on his way out.

Maxie the German Spy. A US citizen, a Jew, a refugee, and a Holocaust escapee. Pretty likely guy to be getting secret messages from the Third Reich, right?

The war ended. Maxie was never arrested. Fat Chickie never came back to fix the shortwave.

Was Maxie a spy? Bombs in the Fuller Brush sample case?

Don’t know. He didn’t talk much – at least not about that stuff. But probably not.

No Department of Homeland Security then, either. Just good citizens like the guys at Lafayette Radio doing their best to protect the US of A against Nazi terrorists. So what if a few innocents were inconvenienced!

Now, it’s 2007. And in the condo across the street, a lovely and happy couple. Can’t tell you their names. National security, you know, He’s “H” and she’s “F.” That’ll have to be enough. And guess where they’re from. Iran!

And they’re obviously spies. Here’s how you can tell. He’s friendly with everyone. And she doesn’t “cover.” Plus, they keep their lights on very very late at night. Probably sending secret messages back to the Ayatollah.

He’s handsome. She’s hot. Obviously a distraction. We know what they’re up to. Gathering data and tracking the movements of the rest of us. Waiting for the day the nukes come sailing in from Tehran.

Chertoff and those guys aren’t as smart as Fat Chickie and the Lafayette Radio Company crowd. They knew when they faced the enemy, and they knew what to do. They didn’t wait for the U-Boats to come ashore in Sag Harbor. They went out there and cut off enemy lines of communication before there was any damage.

But we vigilant neighbors are at the ready. We have our eye on you, Persian devils! (Especially you, Lady Short Shorts.)

I'm Wes Richards, my opinions are my own, but you're welcome to them.

(c) 2007 WJR

1 comment:

pipskippy said...

Hey Wes, I just counted every fifth word's 3rd letter in your post and realized you just posted a secret message to the wild eyed liberals. It says, 'dfgvdhydcsdfsgfsd'. I'm onto you.