Editorial

Rayber and the barbs

With apologies to Flannery O’Connor

Editor's note: Many years back, Flannery O'Connor wrote a short story called The Barber, in which a frustrated man who wouldn't support the demagogue in the next election was shouted down--hounded, vilified--by his friends at the barbershop. He was so surprised by the attacks that he had a hard time getting his thoughts together. After watching a little TV and reading some posts on social media last week, we knew exactly how ol' Rayber felt . . . .

It was trying on folks in Dilton last week. Ol' Rayber sat down in the barber's chair, as was his habit once a week, and the conversation naturally turned to the shooting in South Carolina, and the efforts to take down the old Confederate battle flag. Efforts and controversy that went beyond South Carolina. All the way to his barbershop.

"Well, I suppose it was time," Rayber mumbled under his breath.

You hate the South!

Rayber started in his chair. He had not expected to be approached so brutally.

"No," he said, off-balanced.

The men around him whooped. Why, they said, what those people really want--and you're helping them, Rayber--is to not just rid the country of the Confederate flag, but the American one. That's next. You just watch. Once you bury your head in the sand, they'll not only take a mile, but the good old red-white-and-blue Stars and Stripes, too! This whole country is going to hell, and folks like you, Rayber, are helping by not standing up to them.

"No, that's not likely," Rayber said. "Nobody is even talking about removing the United States flag. That's more than a bit of hyperbole--"

You've been taken in by them, all right, the men shouted. Where is your horse sense, Rayber? Can't you read between the lines? Somebody said they're going to ban Gone With The Wind.

"That's just not going to happen," Rayber stammered. "Just because some idiot says something to rile you--"

It was on the news! Don't you watch Fox News or read the internet, Rayber? They're gonna do it! They're going to take away not only flags and books, but do away with our culture and heritage! What's next, our churches?

"Not likely," Rayber said, trying to gather his thoughts while the men laughed at him. "Nobody's taking away anybody's culture. Watch your football games. Listen to your country music. You can even display your own Confederate flag. Its just that a government building is paid for by all the taxpayers and a flag that offends a great many of them--"

It's as plain as a pig on a sofa, Rayber, somebody yelled from across the room. And just for kicks, if They are going to do that to Us, then let's do away with Juneteenth, because that offends me!

"How does Juneteenth offend anybody?" Rayber said out loud, reddening a bit as the barber put shaving lotion on his cheeks. "How does that compare to that battle flag? One is a day to recognize when slaves in south Texas found out they were freemen, the other a symbol that's been taken over by kluxers and skin-heads. It's like comparing ice cream and hand grenades--"

And for that matter, somebody shouted, rename all those streets named for Civil Rights leaders, too.

Rayber sputtered. And shook his head. "What? Why? Has this now devolved into how we can hurt each other, instead of how to soothe each other after a terrible mass shooting?"

Look, Rayber, who are you for? They're taking away our flag! They're taking away our books! Did you hear the mayor of New Orleans wants to take down the statue of Robert E. Lee? Who are you for, Rayber? Don't you see the whole country is going to hell in a handbasket? Rayber? Why don't you go live up north somewhere if you don't like it here? Some of us appreciate the Old South and are proud of it. Like ol' Huckabee said, if somebody told us what to do with our flag, we'd tell him where to stick the pole. Look at ol' Rayber! We knew he was a closet liberal! You probably agree with them! Why, you even dress the part. I'm going to order a hundred battle flags and give 'em away for Christmas. And I'm sending two to your house, Rayber. If you're so smart--

"Listen!" Rayber yelled. "Do you think I'm trying to change your minds? It's just that you're not making any sense! You've taken an act of Christian charity and made it into another battle cry! I can't even argue with you!"

He turned and pushed quickly through the men and found his way to the door. Before he had turned the first corner, almost running, the lather dripped into his collar and down the barber's bib, dangling to his knees.

Editorial on 07/03/2015

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