He said his real name was unpronounceable, but everyone could call him Buzz Lightyear. He was a handsome devil from Canabra, the only planet orbiting a star beyond the constellation Scorpio. I believed him. Everyone did because he knew things no one else could–like how to start a fire with his eyes. His baby blues could penetrate your heart and brain. When he spoke, you knew he knew you–your pain, your secrets–and he always spoke The Truth.
One day after basket weaving, Buzz showed the class a starmap and pointed to M13049 that was about the same size as our sun. Canabra, an Earth-like planet with plenty of water, revolved around it. The planet had evolved eons earlier than ours and was ruled by an advanced civilization known as the Canaris (pronounced “Canaries”). They had mastered the dynamics of nature and could control the weather and their natural resources to keep life on the planet in balance. Buzz Lightyear was part of a ruling class that employed their technology and advanced intelligence to “Satisfy the greater good for the greatest number.”
Those in the ruling class prided their altruism. They lived exceptionally well, with the best food, the best homes, the best pets, the best yachts, the best entertainment, and the best islands. Once all their needs were fulfilled, they could be very generous. The majority of others, the Middies, performed physical labor and repetitive tasks, and they supported the ruling class because that’s who they worked for. Buzz explained that Middies were living OK, too, and liked to work. Almost all stayed in line because they didn’t want to slip into the abyss of unmotivated troglodytes who did nothing but stay intoxicated all day and sap resources.
The Canaris recently mastered interstellar travel and, as an altruistic race, wanted to spread their knowledge and sow prosperity throughout the universe. That’s their goal. Buzz Lightyear was part of the first wave, and Earth was his responsibility.
Of course, I knew all this already. I was fortunate to meet Buzz Lightyear a few weeks ago, shortly after he landed in New York City. I was panhandling on 34th Street late one afternoon when I saw him emerge from a taxi with a megaphone in front of Macy’s. He started to preach how the world was going to end if we didn’t do something to change things.
Buzz was alluring and emphatic. People stopped to listen and dropped small bills in his space helmet. As I worked the crowd, I listened too. What Buzz said made perfect sense. We could turn this country around, we could turn the world around, if people would let their altruism show. Sure it was OK to be a little selfish at first. After all, we deserved everything we wanted, and money kept us alive. His policies would make sure everyone had more of it–no matter how much money you already had. I only had about $27 from my work so far that day, so this sounded pretty good. Buzz emphasized that those who had more would get more, which was as fair as fair can be. I cheered the crowd, and Buzz seemed pleased.
It was no accident of the universe that Buzz Lightyear arrived during this election year because it’s a critical one, and we really need him. He’ the “young blood” we should vote for. He’s “the one,” the only one who can make the Republic stronger and save the world.
After Macy’s closed and the crowd dispersed, I counted $147 dollars, thanks to a lady’s pocketbook I picked at the end. I really started to see a future for myself with Buzz. As an admirer (and the last one still there), I asked him if he’d like to go to Mama Leone’s with me for some family-style Italian.
With a wink, he said ‘yes,’ and that was the beginning of our symbiotic relationship, with him giving speeches and me rallying the crowd. It went on for another three days, stopping at major stores from Bergdorf Goodman’s to Tiffany’s, followed by fine dining. Then the police came and arrested us in front of Bloomingdale’s. When they took us to headquarters, they put us in separate rooms, and I told them the truth about Buzz Lightyear.
Our stories must have matched because we both wound up at this old hotel crawling with ivy and counselors. Tenants get meds and group sessions every morning. Buzz and I take all our meals and some activities together, like basket weaving. (It’s my favorite.)
Right now I’m weaving a mallard and Buzz a cornucopia. (It’s really a wormhole, but shhhh, it’s a secret.) Anyway, I hope he finishes soon so we can finish spreading the message before the election. Everyone must know The Truth.
