Hum Bug!

A long time ago, I lived in a sort of Folkie Paradise. I moved from city to city, played guitar, hung out with exciting friends, and held outrageous political beliefs, like ” We need better government now and less government later.” I wasn’t entirely convinced by anarchist friends that something, as they tried in Catalonia in the early thirties, would work, but I was pretty well convinced that things, as they were, were bound for hell in the proverbial handbasket.

Fast-forward to now, and I’ve mellowed to perfection as a Progressive. But up until recently, I still had some faith in the mantra of better government now and less government later. Recent Supreme Court decisions have made me waver. 

It was then I received a call from someone I had known in my Folkie days. We had an “almost friend” named John. John had started as a con artist. He is probably the sole reason I have yet to fall for all the cons, hornswoggles, rackets, and “deals” offered in emails, on the web, by phone, and in person. John insisted that little was new in the rackets since the days of Rome. He maintained that it was either derivative or a matter of scale. Human nature has not changed, so why should the cons? 

Through long nights drinking beer at Harvard Gardens, John discussed all the various cons he knew of, and I have to say that over the years, I found that he was right: small innovations brought about by culture or technology and sometimes a matter of scale but always the basic bedrock and foibles of human nature.

I had lost track of John when I went to graduate school—another sort of racket—but the things he taught stayed with me. I knew that he had quit the cons and gone to Washington to work as an aide to a Senator. The last I heard, a few years ago, he had retired to write his memoirs. So I was curious when I received the email saying he was coming back to Massachusetts for a research trip and wanted to gather as many of the old tribe as possible for a night of eating, drinking, cigars, and talking. I decided to join in. I hadn’t seen any of those guys since perhaps 1972.

Our confab was at a restaurant in Boston’s North End. There, I sat down with some of my old associates for the first time in years; about an hour passed in eating and catching up before current-day politics intruded its ugly head. John insisted that he was coming out of retirement.

The recent Chevron decision by the Supreme Court was a platinum opportunity for a man of his skills. Senator “Foghorn” had already requested that he rejoin the staff for a new golden age of nit and lint picking. Administrative flacks would no longer be allowed to interpret the law and broadly create policy. Instead, laws would have to be applied as written. Lawyers, staffers, and special interests could finally fine-tune the law to meet specific needs. That pesky sand swallow is endangered? Write the law so obtusely that it’s unenforceable, and the drilling can continue. Drill, Baby, Drill! John went on to describe in glowing terms the new future he envisioned.

I sought to interpose. “Hey, John? You don’t happen to remember John Rogers, do you? He was a law student at Suffolk when we all lived on Beacon Hill.” He replied, “Sure, he went on to work with the Conservation Law Foundation; why?” I replied, “Well, remember his theory that eventually, the laws would become so incomprehensible that even the lawyers couldn’t interpret them? Society would eventually grind to a halt because competing legal opinions or crafting of laws would make any enforcement impossible?”

John was quiet; his brows knitted together in concentration. Clearly, there were complications he needed to think through. Then, his face lit with a huge smile. “You may be right, Lou, but a guy like me will always land on his feet. People will still fall for the Pigeon Drop, Lotto frauds, the Spanish Prisoner, or other cons. After all, human nature never changes. A pigeon or a mark will always be a pigeon or a mark. It doesn’t matter if the con is politics or a Lotto.

That was the last time I saw my almost-friend John. But he left me with one bit of advice: read. He strongly recommended PT Barnum’s The Art of Money Getting and Humbugs of the World.

He just happened to have a new private printing of those titles and sold me several hundred copies at a great price. I am passing along the savings to a select few friends and associates, with postage included. Don’t wait—this is a limited-time offer!

Prepare now for the future!