Dear Ruth: We hear so much about constitutional issues from the right-wing media, and how the Obama administration and some Supreme Court justices ignore or misinterpret the basic principles of constitutional law and the Bill of Rights. In fact, Obama has made it clear that he believes the constitution is a flawed, antiquated document. Many voters seem to look the other way; they don’t seem to care, as long as they’re getting their monthly stipend from the government. Or maybe they’re mesmerized into delusional sub consciousness by his syrupy speeches.
Wouldn’t it be interesting if we could somehow interview one of our early presidents or a founding father, and find out what they think about the status of America today? I know that’s a silly, unrealistic idea.
Disillusioned in Davenport
Dear Disillusioned: Don’t be so quick to brand your idea as either “silly” or “unrealistic.” Here’s why. Several weeks ago I broke down and bought a fancy, new smart phone. It will take months to figure out its myriad capabilities. Last week I was reviewing the various apps, trying to learn their functions, and I came across an interesting app entitled “Séance.” After a few moments of hesitation, I lightly touched the icon. Instantly a strange voice asked, “To whom do you wish to speak?” I quickly hung up. It was too spooky.
I put the phone away. I had to give this app a lot more thought. Who should I ask for? And what questions should I ask? I couldn’t rush into this phenomenon. Frankly, I was a little taken aback.
Each day that mysterious app drew my attention like a powerful magnet, but I didn’t dare open it again. Then I thought about all the historical novels, biographies and autobiographies I’ve read over my lifetime. So many brilliant and fascinating characters: Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Abe Lincoln, Robert E. Lee, Theodore Roosevelt, Franklin Roosevelt, Dwight Eisenhower, Harry Truman, and countless others. If I’m going to do this, I’ve got to start somewhere.
I touched the icon, held my breath, and waited.
“To whom do you wish to speak?” the voice asked.
I paused. “Thomas Jefferson,” I said with authority.
“Sir, you must be more specific,” she said, “we have hundreds of thousands of Thomas Jeffersons here. Maybe millions.”
She sounded a bit bossy, like the Garmin lady that guides me along the open road.
“The third president of the United States. Does that help?”
“Please hold,” she said, and I sat back in my chair and waited anxiously.
After about five minutes of complete silence, I was boldly greeted with a hearty: “Good day, madam. This is Jefferson. How may I be of service?” The voice was strong and articulate, with a noticeable Virginia accent.
“Mr. President,” I said. “Thank you for taking my call.” That seemed like a stupid thing to say, but the phrase was out. “This is Ruth Truth, and I’ve been dying to interview you.” Another stupid statement with a poor word choice.
“Miss Truth,” the president said, “I am delighted to hear from you. This is the first time in 188 years that someone from among the living has tried to contact me. I must say I am overwhelmed with gratitude. Please, madam, commence with your questions.”
I could tell Mr. Jefferson was trying to put me at ease.
I was completely tongue-tied. I was going to ask about Sally Hemings, but that conversation might take an embarrassing turn.
Then the president asked me, “How’s the constitution working out, Miss Truth, and the Bill of Rights? Has it survived the test of two centuries?”
“I wish I had a good report for you,” I said. “But first of all, I would like to commend James Madison and George Mason for their clear, concise language. The wording of the Bill of Rights is just as succinct today as it was the day they wrote it. But we have an administration that not only misinterprets the wording, they outright reject it. Our standing president has told one world leader, ‘The constitution is dead.’”
“Begging your pardon, madam,” Jefferson interrupted, “but how can you govern a country without a constitution? I find that appalling. You can govern a dictatorship without a constitution, but not a democracy.”
“You’re not alone, Mr. President,” I said. “But many people just ignore what is clearly a national tragedy. And frankly, he governs like a dictator, making and changing laws without congressional input or approval.”
“As I recall,” Jefferson said, “The oath of office asks the president to preserve, protect and defend the constitution of the United States. Has that changed? Is there a new oath, or none at all?”
“Mr. President, the oath is exactly the same as the one you took,” I said. “The wording has not been changed.”
“You mean to tell me that the standing president swore to preserve, protect and defend the constitution in one breath, and in another breath he tells world leaders the constitution is dead? That makes no sense? That sounds like both hypocrisy and outright treason. That sounds like grounds for a second American revolution, does it not?”
“Third American revolution, sir,” I said. “We already had a second revolution in 1861. But, with your permission, we’ll save that for another interview.”
“Tell me, Miss Truth,” Jefferson said, “How did this president of yours get elected? I can’t believe an informed electorate would propel such a man to the highest office in the land.”
“Therein lies the problem, sir,” I said, “Most people don’t read the newspapers anymore. And even it they did, the newspaper writers make this man sound like the next messiah. We still have newspapers, but very few people read them.”
“This distresses me greatly, Miss Truth,” he said. “Doctor Franklin once said that the republic we helped shape depended on an educated and informed electorate. Franklin was a brilliant man. Now please give me some good news.”
“Well, the wording of the original Bill of Rights hasn’t changed,” I said. “While new amendments have been added, the original 10 have not been modified.”
“I guess that’s a relief,” Jefferson replied. “What about the first amendment, particularly the part about freedom of speech. I’ve often wondered about that.”
“Sir, the government still doesn’t control the press,” I said. “Reporters and editors still write what they want. But the concept of freedom of speech has been broadened quite a bit.”
“Explain that, madam. What do you mean by ‘broadened’?”
“Here’s one example, sir. A woman can shake her naked booty and gyrate her hips like Jezebel on steroids, and her actions are protected by the first amendment. It’s called ‘freedom of expression.’”
“I don’t understand the word ‘booty’; and what do you mean by ‘steroids’?” Jefferson said, “but I think I get the picture. That was neither the spirit nor the literal intent of the first amendment. Your judges should be ashamed of themselves. I fear the republic we left you is in grave danger. In fact, I feel nauseated for the first time since I was lying in mortal anguish on my death bed.”
“I’m terribly sorry to have upset you, Mr. President. There are still people who feel the constitution and the Bill of Rights are practically sacred documents, but we seem to be in the minority.”
“Miss Truth,” he said, “I’m relying on you to share our conversation with the voters. Please don’t disappoint me. But I must cut the conversation short. Adams is waiting for our daily game of checkers, and he has never been a patient man. You ought to call him sometime. I think he would like to express his opinion too. But be warned, he’s a bit more blunt than I am. You can reach him the same way you reached me.”
“Thank you, sir. Thank you for your time. And give my regards to Saint Peter.”
“What makes you think I’m in heaven?”
Ruth Truth
To be continued.