Dave is an interesting guy.  He lives all alone on Hubbard’s Main Street.  No one really knows what he did for a living, but he doesn’t have any financial worries.  It’s hard to tell how old he is.  Some say he’s in his mid-fifties but others say he is a young 70.  There are all kinds of rumors about Dave.  Some say he worked for the CIA as a spy.  Others say he made millions running his own company before he retired at a young age.  Marsha Lipper-Daley once whispered to Craig Johnson that she thought Dave was part of the federal witness protection program.  It’s all speculation because no one knows for sure.

As mysterious as he is, Dave is equally sociable and friendly to all of Hubbard’s residents; rich or poor, educated or uneducated, white collar or blue collar, senior citizen or child.  He doesn’t travel in any social circles.  He’s not a member of the country club, the Lion’s club, or the garden club.  He doesn’t go to church on Sunday but is clean-living; eschewing profanity and politely refusing to consume alcohol and tobacco in all forms.   Everyone seems to like and respect Dave.  His opinions are highly valued and reflect national and international experience.  He’s probably the closest thing that Hubbard has to a village wise man.

Behind Dave’s house on Main Street is a big, old garage.  It is equipped with a pot-belly  wood-burning stove for Wisconsin’s cold winters and big windows and a large ceiling fan for hot summer evenings.  Every Tuesday evening around 7 p.m. Dave unlocks the door and spends a couple of hours chewing the fat with anyone who feels like doing the same.  It’s not an exclusive club; there are no secret passwords needed to pull up a stool.  In the summer parents are often accompanied with their kids, complete with dripping ice cream cones.  In the winter one or both of Hubbard’s borderline homeless people may show up just to thaw out, but they are always included in the conversation.  No topic of interest is forbidden; religion and politics are fair game here.  One thing is for sure.  Before the evening is over, Dave will “weigh in” on one issue or another.

Last Tuesday the conversation was about Government and how big it should be.  Pretty much everyone agreed that we need a police department, national defense, and a court system.  Beyond that point there was no agreement.  Unity Johnson wanted the government to employ everyone and guarantee economic security.  Craig Johnson replied that “socialism is dead and buried forever since the fall of the Berlin wall”.

Dave was more cynical.  He said that Democrats are economically illiterate looters who use the force of government to redistribute money from hard-working producers to people who are often undeserving laggards.  According to Dave the Dems are also soft on Iraq and lack the backbone of their predecessors like President Franklin D. Roosevelt and ordinary American soldiers, who unapologetically defeated Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan.

Dave is also very upset with the right-wing conservative, Bush Republicans.  “They can’t allow a woman the freedom of her own body.  They are now attempting to replace creation theory with “intelligent design”.  “Of course the universe is orderly”, says Dave.  “If it wasn’t orderly the planets would be slamming into each other and we wouldn’t exist. The existence of order has nothing to do with who or what created the universe.”  “By the time the Democrats get done robbing our pocketbooks and the Republicans are finished in our bedrooms, this country won’t be worth saving,” says Dave.

Not too far from the trailer park where Jose and Angela Gonzales used to live is a small acreage near Papio creek.  That’s where Unity Wilson resides.  Unity lives on the fringe of Hubbard, both literally and figuratively. Forty-something and five foot eleven with straggly long dishwater blond hair; her parents were students at the University of California Berkeley in the 60’s.  Unity is the product of free love and cheap drugs, which probably explains her first name.

Unity holds a master’s degree in psychology from San Diego State University and sometimes teaches adjunct classes at Hubbard State University.  A couple of times she had to go on welfare and drop her Wisconsin Public Radio membership when she couldn’t get a job teaching or lecturing about the merit of herbal medicines.  However, Unity has never abused the welfare system and has always lived frugally.  Unity attends most of the meetings of the Hubbard garden club, in spite of the fact that she can’t stand soccer moms like Susan Johnson.

Unity’s house is small and sided with untreated cedar.  It probably looked good at one time, but now the cedar is dark and weatherworn.  The small cottage blends well with Unity’s “natural” front yard.  In this context, “natural” means no grass and plenty of native perennials growing wildly.  No maintenance is needed for this yard.  If Unity lived in Susan Johnson’s neighborhood there would be a citizen’s petition to have the place condemned.

In the yard is a big “No War in Iraq” sign, which seems a bit outdated now, being that we’ve been in a War in Iraq for quite sometime.  Unity’s sister, Serenity, lives in Minnesota and worshiped at the alter of the late Senator Paul Wellstone.  This explains the prominent green Wellstone sign in Unity’s yard.  You can still buy these signs in Minnesota, even though the senator tragically lost his life in an airplane crash nearly three years ago.  In fact, Unity had to purchase a new one after some Halloween vandals wrote the word “DEAD“ on her old Wellstone sign.

Unity has an intense hatred of capitalism.  She describes it as an unjust economic system that exploits the poor for the benefit of the rich.  According to Unity, capitalism causes people to be unemployed and they have to take public assistance, which is not nearly as generous as it ought to be.  Furthermore Unity is certain that capitalism is responsible for most of the poverty in the third world, for the war in Iraq, for Muslim extremism, for unhealthy food, for global warming, and for people who get too fat eating at McDonalds.

One day, years ago, when Jose Gonzales was working out of his rusted pickup truck, Unity called him to repair a broken window at her house.  While Jose was sweating under the hot sun repairing her window, Unity decided that a poor, over-worked immigrant like Jose would be especially appreciative to receive her “knowledge-lecture” about how exploited he was under capitalism.  Hence, she launched headlong into one of her famous   capitalism-hating speeches that her university students just love to hear.

Jose listened for about twenty minutes, but even a laid-back guy like Jose can take only so much.  He gave Unity a piece of his mind.  “Quit making excuses you hippie”, he said.  You think there’s no opportunity here?  You wouldn’t want to go to the streets where I grew up in Mexico.  You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

After Jose calmed down he told Unity that he and Angela were poor, but were going to work hard and make it, and that this country and capitalism gave no man or woman any excuse for lack of achievement.  In fact, Jose intimated that Unity’s lack of direction, lack of accomplishment, and inability to hold down a full-time job was entirely her fault and was not the fault of capitalism or any other excuse she might invent.

After Jose finished fixing the window, Unity offered to pay him but he told her that her money wasn’t any good to him.  She asked him what he meant and he said, “When I earn money it is because I did something for it.  I created something.  You got your money from the welfare office…your money means nothing.  I won’t take your bogus money.”

Unity and Jose still bump into each other once in a while.  Neither holds any grudges and they are civil to each other.  While both of them vividly remember that conversation years ago, they never talk about the day that Unity got her window fixed for nothing.

The Johnson’s are a typical upper-middle class family.  Craig, Susan, and their children Megan and Ethan live on one of Hubbard’s “burb” streets, full of new, similar-looking, vinyl-sided wonders, complete with manicured lawns, and a cul-de-sac.  When you look at these homes from the front you mostly see the triple garage.  Somewhere behind that garage is a house, if you can find it.  These “garage houses” are expensive homes with walk-in closets, kitchens with islands, Jacuzzi’s, and first-floor laundry rooms that older houses just don’t have.

Instead, Hubbard’s older neighborhoods have alleys.  The garages are in back yard, detached from the house, but at least you can see the house from the street.  Alleys are cool.  There’s room for your extra stuff back there, whether it be your woodworking shop, your boat, or Grandpa’s 84 Buick that hasn’t run for three years.  None of those things would ever be tolerated in Craig and Susan’s neighborhood.

Anyway, back to the Johnson’s.  Craig and Susan met in college.  Considered handsome by some, he was shy, self-conscious and serious about his studies.  Two years younger than Craig, Susan was a popular sorority girl and a good looker.  They married his senior year in college, after which they moved to Iowa City, where he attended dental school.  After completing his DDS degree, Craig worked in a dental office in Muscatine, Iowa before moving to Hubbard to start his own practice.  He’s a good technician that can drill and fill with the best of them.  He is also popular with his patients and makes a good living.  Susan never finished college.  Craig jokes that she went to college to get her MRS degree.  Susan isn’t amused.

The Johnson’s two children are both enrolled in the Hubbard, Wisconsin public middle school.  Susan spends most of her time running them to and from school, to soccer practice, to play practice, and to the orthodontist.  Craig doesn’t do Ortho.  Thank God for the Town & Country Mini-Van!  Craig and Susan get along most of the time, but the upcoming public school referendum has caused a rift between them.

Craig isn’t happy with the public schools.  He says that the school district keeps coming back to the taxpayers again and again.  After threatening to do away with all extracurricular activities and to make 5 year-olds walk 2 miles to school, they finally get their referendums passed, but the quality of the education never improves.  His kids never have any homework and they are not challenged.  Megan told him they watch videos twice a week in her history class.  They both stink at math.  Craig recently asked Ethan, “What is 20% of 120?”  Ethan thought about it for a while and said “360?”

Many of their neighbors are public school teachers and Craig thinks they are overpaid.  He tells Susan that the referendum money will eventually end up paying for another big fat teacher raise.  He thinks the teachers could work harder.  “After the referendum passes, they’ll get another raise and still show videos all day.” Craig tells Susan.

Regarding the teachers, Craig continues; “After all, they didn’t beat their brains out in dental school.  Cripes, they took those easy education courses.  They’ve got courses in the education department where they spend hours cutting circles out of construction paper!  I have an office to run and a payroll to make.  I have a dental practice to run and a payroll to make.  I have responsibilities and am making big payments on the loans for my office building and dental school.  Why should teachers be able to live in this neighborhood?  They take no risks. “

Susan thinks that the voters have to approve the referendum, because it’s “for the kids”.   You just can’t do enough for the kids.  Susan strongly believes that you can’t do enough for kids.  They are the future of Hubbard.  Heck, they are the future of the nation!  Besides, Susan likes her teacher neighbors.  During the summer she goes over to their houses for tea, and they regularly go golfing.  Susan is a good golfer; much better than Craig.

What really irks Craig is that Susan has volunteered to join the “pass the referendum” committee.  She wants to put a “Referendum Yes” sign in the front yard.  Craig refuses.  “How can I be on the committee without a sign in my yard?” Susan says.  “That’s your problem!” Craig replies.

The other evening, around 10 p.m., Susan walked into the den while Craig was at the computer.  She glanced over his shoulder.  He was looking at some Internet article titled, “Vouchers - the Answer for Cost Effective Quality Education”.  “What’s a voucher?” she asked?  “Nothing, honey.” he replied.  “Just go to bed.  Don’t you have an early tee time tomorrow morning?”

Hubbard, Wisconsin is pretty far north so there isn’t a large Hispanic population.  One of the town’s best-known characters is Jose Gonzales.  Jose came to this country back in the early 80’s, working his way up from Mexico on a custom combining crew.  Jose was only eighteen years old when he arrived in Hubbard.  His wife, Angela, must have been about sixteen.  They didn’t have any material possessions to speak of and rented a beat up trailer on the end of town for $100 a month.

Their financial circumstances would have depressed most people, but he and Angela always had smiles on their faces.  When Angela and Jose looked at each other, both of them would just grin like crazy.  Crazy.  That’s it.  Jose and Angela were, as the Kenny Rogers song says, “Crazy in Love.”  At first Angela worked as a dishwasher at the Ralph’s diner and Jose did landscaping work in the summer and carpentry work in the winter.  Finally Jose bought a broken-down pickup truck and started to do carpentry work full-time.

No one remembers whether or not Jose and Angela were legal immigrants when they came to Hubbard.  No one really cared.  They minded their own business, paid their bills on time and weren’t on the welfare roles.  Everyone, however, vividly remembers the day that Jose and Angela went up to Milwaukee to be sworn in as United States citizens.  Jose was so proud.  He wore a suit that he had purchased at the local second hand store.  It was the only time, before or since, that anyone in Hubbard has seen him wear a tie.

When you hired Jose to work on your house he would never give you an estimate.  He would just say, “I work hard.  I get $7.50 an hour, plus materials.”  Most homeowners would never give a contactor an open-ended deal, but Jose had a reputation for doing quality work.  He also worked faster and harder than any human being the town had ever seen.  Jose learned a valuable lesson; that free markets are blind to color and ethnicity.  As long as you provide value for value, your customers don’t care where you came from or what your last name is, or where you worship; they want to do business with you.

In 1989 Jose’s mother, two brothers and their families moved to Hubbard.  The brothers worked for Jose.  The wives of the brothers were stay-at-home moms, eternally vigilant to make sure their children learned English, were on time for Sunday mass, and did their homework.  For those fortunate enough to imbibe, Jose’s mother made the tastiest tamales they had ever eaten.  Meanwhile, all of the Gonzales clan sent money back to their Angela’s parents and other relatives in Mexico.  Angela said that her parents never lived as well in Mexico as they did after she and Jose came to Hubbard.

Today Gonzales construction has 38 full-time employees, most of them Caucasians.
The company injects nearly one million dollars of payroll income into the Hubbard economy each year.  Jose also hires about 10 college students during the summer.  There were 143 moms, dads, and kids at the company picnic in July.  When asked about his success he said;  “This is a great country.  You can do anything you want here.  It’s kind of humbling to be responsible for the livelihood of almost 150 people.  We better keep doing things right because too many people depend on us now.”

Nearly all of Jose’s kids and his brother’s kids have gone on to college.  Two sons have remained in Hubbard to take over the business when Jose and his brothers retire.  Angela runs the office and does the accounting work.  Her long hair is graying a little, but she remains stunningly beautiful.  Jose’s face still breaks into a smile every time he looks at her.  They’re crazy in love.