Bushel Basket
Twenty parents and one child asked Laguna Beach City Council to ban the deployment of 5G antennas. Before discussions could begin, a concerned council member asked, “Who are the parents of this young child activist?” To everybody’s surprise, no one claimed him. “Never saw the kid before tonight,” all 20 couples answered in unison. A resident attendee added, “I saw him before the meeting. He rode down on the trolley with us.” The mayor followed up. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, young man?” Do your parents know where you are?” The child answered forthwith. “I don’t have a bedtime, sir. My parents don’t believe in them. They say all kids should work 24/7 to keep up with foreign sweatshops that don’t have bedtimes, either. I’m here to offer up my tree house for all the 5G implementation. For a nominal monthly rental, I guarantee the preservation of our seaside aesthetic and the safety of Laguna Beach. The tree house comes with a smoke detector.”
No one knew what to say. Before someone could think how to respond, the kid made a second offer. “Also, I’m presently Captain of Patrols at Top of the World elementary. I would like you to consider hiring me as your second school resource officer. As you will see from my curriculum vitae, I have six years of in-school experience. I relate well with children, as you’ll see in their favorable references of me. I understand the school district and the city have agreed to share the salary of this second officer. That won’t be necessary because I’ll work for half of the contract amount. Commingling of agency funds won’t be necessary. Oh, and I will not need a car because I do not have a driver’s license. My skateboard will do just fine and it’s ecologically correct during these troubling times of global warning.
Again, the room full of adults was stunned into silence. So, the kid made a third and final offer. “If you agree to my 5G contract and offer me the school resource officer position, I will agree to throw in free of charge my new adult anger management seminar. It is sorely apparent that city inmates are running the asylum. My six-week seminar will redirect the negativity into constructive action. Attendance is mandatory for all political junkies. No exceptions are allowed. A swear jar will be provided to cover food and drink provided by great area restaurants. The seminar is christened, “Good Table Manners.”
By the look on the adult faces, the kid didn’t stand a chance. And then, a surprising thing happened. The mayor said, “You sure don’t hide your light under the bushel basket. I call a motion to approve all three business offers. All in favor?” The city inmates yelled “yes,” and the first step to governmental sanity commenced.
Crantz tells the Indy that children are good teachers. They are open-minded, direct and speak from the heart. He says that he learned more from them than the other way around.
