A Real Political Outsider Gives Some Thought for Food

The midnight hour was fast approaching, but the post-election party still flowed like bubbly for the Orange County Democrats frolicking at the Anaheim Hilton.

Freeing 16 years of pent-up frustration since a Democratic presidential victory, these political resisters from behind the Orange Curtain were buzzing and back-slapping like the French after the Allies liberated Paris.

I left with the party still going, venturing into the still warm-ish evening thinking the obvious--about the awesomeness of this country’s exchange of political power.

Outside, a solitary man in sneakers, dirty jeans and shirt and wearing a baseball cap walked in the darkness along Convention Way toward the Hilton. He had that purposeless gait of a street person and was heading toward the hotel as I was leaving. Maybe his radar picked up the buzz at the hotel, telling him that people brimming with happiness might be looser of wallet, making for fertile territory.

We had the inevitable sidewalk exchange. “If you could just help out with anything,” he said.

My pockets were empty of change, but I engaged him for a moment, because in all honesty he was just the kind of person I was looking for.

I had just spent the last hour or so with the most enfranchised people around, people who will remember Bill Clinton’s election for the rest of their lives and who may well see his election as changing their lives.

I wondered about people like this guy coming toward me on the street. He’s part of the public that Bill Clinton also will be leading.

I didn’t explain all those mental machinations to him but did tell him I was curious about his reaction to the day’s news. What I wanted to know was whether he believed in new eras.

“What do you think of what happened today?” I said.

“I haven’t read the papers,” he said, almost sheepishly. “You tell me what’s going on.”

“Clinton won.”

“Oh, he did. That’s marvelous. He was my choice.”

I told him I’d buy him a midnight meal if he’d discuss his political alienation. I’m sure it was the midnight meal part that appealed to him, but we hiked over to the Jolly Roger, getting there seven minutes before the grill closed.

He said his name was Robert Hoyt and had worked over the years as a manual laborer in various factories and warehouses. At 40, he’s a Baby Boomer.

On the way over to the restaurant, he conceded that he had almost no knowledge of this year’s presidential race. He knew practically nothing about Clinton, Al Gore, or, for that matter, George Bush. He had never heard of Gennifer Flowers.

Dan Quayle? “What’s his position?”

While Robert worked on his dinner, I asked whether he felt detached from the country he lived in.

“I do kind of feel detached from it,” he said. “I hate to say that. I’d like to have a lot of joy about it. Before, I used to follow it like everybody else did. In the last few years, hardly at all.”

When were you last interested?

“In the ‘70s, not so much in the ‘80s. After Watergate, I’ve been kind of disinterested since then. It was like, who can you trust? They say one thing and do another.”

With the blizzard of information, how is it that you can stay uninformed?

“I haven’t really had a place to stay, so I’ve had no access to a television.”

I asked when he last read a newspaper. He said about a month ago. “Like I say, in the position I’m in, I’m kind of disinterested.”

Like with almost all his answers, he spoke flatly. Not only did he have little interest in who or what Bill Clinton may have in mind for the country, he seemed to have little curiosity.

Under what circumstances can you picture yourself getting interested? “Living a decent life again. Getting back on my feet.”

How long have you been on the street? “I’m trying to think how many months it’s been. Six months, I guess.”

Do you have any hope? “You don’t want to give up. You keep telling yourself things are going to get better. And it’s not at the moment.”

But how about hope? “Sure, there’s hope. I have some belief and hope he (Clinton) will change things, get the country moving again.”

Yet, you said you know little about Clinton.

“I had a woman say to me, ‘Given the position you’re in, you should be for Clinton.’ ”

What’s your impression of the country today?

“I don’t think the country is that bad off, but I know there have been quite a few people laid off, out of work.”

I mentioned to him that some people blamed Bush for the economic problems.

“People say he’s responsible for the economy?” he said. “What did he do to supposedly affect that?”

I said that people said Bush let the problems go without taking any action.

“Nobody knows, huh?” he said. “They just blame him.”

What do you think of Ross Perot?

“Who’s he?”

The restaurant was closing and we had to leave. The tab came to $16.58. As we parted company outside, he got that apologetic look on his face again. “I don’t exactly know how to say this,” he said.

He didn’t have to say anything.

“If I could just have a couple bucks, I might be able to get a motel for the night.”

I gave him another three dollars and headed back toward the hotel for my car.

It was only about 12:15 a.m. The party in the ballroom probably was still rocking.

I looked back to see if Robert was following me, but he had already disappeared into the night.