A Greedy Economy On Borrowed Time: America Under The Sword Of Damocles
NEW YORK — On the afternoon of December 31, 1999, I boarded a flight from Chicago O’Hare airport for San Francisco International and found myself seated next to a bear of a man, who, at 6 feet 6 inches tall, and more than 300 pounds, squeezed into the middle seat of an emergency row. His unkempt sandy blonde beard contrasted with a ratty, tent-sized red plaid shirt. As we hit cruising altitude, he introduced himself as “Gary” and began to tell me his life’s story. He’d run with a wild crowd in Illinois, smoked way too much meth, gotten locked up, then released, locked up again, released a second time. With the help of a good woman, he said, he finally kicked his drug habit — though he’d gained nearly 100 pounds in the process — and decided a change-of-scenery would do him good. Hence, he was relocating to the backwoods of northern California.