“We lost it,” exclaimed Little Jimmy, the only town elector with a computer now in his seventh year of online college with Budapest Institute.
By Lloyd Omdahl
The Community Homeland Security Committee had just been called to order by Chair Ork Dorken and was listerning to Treasurer Orville Jordan’s annual report when Little Jimmy came through the door.
“Lost what?” barked Old Sievert from the stuffed chair in the sunlight. “Is Dawg gone again?”
“Amazon did not pick us for the big expansion,” Little Jimmy explained. “It went to New York and Virginia – all 50,000 jobs.”
“What’s Amazon – some kind of new ‘lectric car?” Old Sievert guessed.
“Amazon is that outfit that sells everything you ever want,” Little Jimmy said. “They’re the ones ruining our business districts.”
“Well, that’s not our problem,” Dorsey Krank adjudged. “We haven’t had a business district since Dusty Sledge closed his blacksmith shop and went to Seattle to work in a war factory. “
“Gosh, he’s going to starve because we got no big war going on,” Holger observed.
“He said he could wait it out ‘cause one was bound to happen,” Dorsey reported.
“He pointed to San Juan Hill,” Dorsey continued.” He said that if there wasn’t a natural war, we would create one. It was good business.”
“Golly, that 50,000 jobs would have done wonders for our town,” Holger Danske ventured.
“I can’t figure out why we lost,” Chief Alert Officer Garvey Erfald wondered.
“For one thing, we didn’t offer any incentives like the other towns did,” Little Jimmy explained.
“Atlanta offered land so they could have their own Amazon City; a Pittsburgh sandwich shop said they would give the new employees free sandwiches. I mean how could we compete with stuff like that?”
“Well, I heard this was coming so I planted only half of my garden to give them a little room,” mourned Holger. “I guess I’ll plant the whole thing again next year.”
“We didn’t even make the short list,” grumped Little Jimmy.
“But they included bergs like Denver and Nashville. It must have been election fraud…Maybe Jeff Bezos…”
“Bezos! Jeff Bezos! He must not be real with a funny name like that,” Ork Dorken snickered.
“There was no way we cold win,” Little Jimmy continued. “New York gave them over almost two billion in cash plus a waiver of property taxes; Virginia gave a half a billion plus their motel tax.”
“We ought to appeal,” Josh proposed as he stood up. “Let’s up the ante.”
“What have we got to ante? Our treasurer just told us we don’t have money for the town Christmas tree,” sneered Old Sievert.
“I’ll tell you what. Tell them we’ll guarantee fresh air and a meadowlark in their window every morning,” Josh responded. “None of those smog-filled towns can match that.”
The electors gave Josh the loyal community applause but the joy was short-lived. Josh bowed anyway.
“We shouldn’t have put all of our eggs in one basket,” Orville decided. “I know we had a good chance of getting that stockyard they’re building over at Summit.”
“Maybe we could become an outside contractor,” suggested Little Jimmy. “We could make their boxes. Now wouldn’t that be a deal?”
“We don’t have enough trees around here to start making cardboard boxes,” Old Sievert cautioned.
“Krank, did you make a suggestion for subcontracting when you sent the bid?” asked Ork.
“Who? Me? I didn’t send the bid,” Krank replied. “I thought Treasurer Orville was going to send the bid.”
“Not me! I thought Madeleine Morgan was going to write it up and send it.”
“Well, don’t that beat all,” Old Sievert chuckled as he put on his sheepskin coat and led the electors into the bitter wind.