Stush wants something named after him”Fayette County Airport Authority. How may I help you?”
“It’s me, Stush Halupkie. I was wondering if I could get you to name something after me. You know, to honor me for my many years of service.” “Why would we want to do something like that, Stush?”
“Well, you just voted to change the name of the airport to honor someone else, didn’t you? So I figured that I’d strike while the iron was hot. By the way, I’d have let you know my desire earlier, but that 8 a.m. Saturday meeting caught even me by surprise. Good one.”
“Stush, what makes you think you deserve to have something at the airport named in your honor?”
“Well, I’ve been helping people get elected for most of my adult life. That includes county commissioners, who appoint members to the airport board. In fact, I worked to get two of the three current county commissioners elected. Wanna’ guess which two they are?”
“Na, Stush, we have a pretty good idea who they are. I mean, we all saw the bumper stickers on your car and the signs in your yard. It’s not like you were keeping your support a big secret, like our proposed airport name change was.”
“Right. So what about naming something after me? I’ve been a loyal political foot soldier for decades. I figure that if Barry Manilow writes the songs that make the whole world sing, you could say that I grease the skids that put people in place that make name changes possible. The way I figure it, I’m getting up in years and I want to leave a legacy, too.”
“Stush, we all know what you’ve done. Believe me, it’s appreciated. But I just don’t think we can name something after you at this time.”
“Why not? You afraid that someone will turn up with a legally binding document that prohibits it? What are the chances of something crazy like that happening?”
“Based on what’s happened since we voted to rename the airport, the chances are better than you might think, Stush. You know, we hate it when people actually pay attention. That’s a real drag. Makes me long for the good old days, when nobody asked any questions because they didn’t know what was going on.”
“I hear you, brother, loud and clear. That reminds me, I’ve got to get busy writing a letter to the editor, bashing the press for undermining the community by covering this controversial issue. So what are you going to name after me?”
“Well, Stush, it’s not that simple. We have standards. But if you loaned us $800,000 like the other guy did, it’s something we’d definitely be willing to consider.”
“Hey, I got a pretty good, do-nothing job through the political system to show for my efforts, but it ain’t that good. No way can I afford to loan you that much cash. Too rich for my blood.”
“Well, let’s see here … for a $250,000 loan, we can name a runway after you.”
“Too high. I need something cheaper.”
“For a $100,000 loan, we can name a hangar after you. How’s that sound?”
“No can do. Go lower.”
“For $50,000, we will gladly create the “Stush Halupkie Parking Lot.” Deal?
“No deal. Keep going.”
“For $10,000, we can name our meeting room after you …”
“Still too high. Plus, I kind of liked former chairman Fred K. Davis. I wouldn’t feel right with my name attached to the room where he used to sit before two county commissioners gave him the boot. Anything else?”
“I see the ballpark you’re playing in. Let me flip to the back of the book … OK, here we go … If you can loan us $100, we can name a men’s restroom after you.”
“Hmmm … that’s interesting. I kind of like the concept. But one hundred bucks is a lot of money …”
“Stush, just how much can you afford to loan us? That might speed this up.”
“Well, I have $10 that I can loan you, as long as you pay it back before the end of this year’s primary election, because I have to contribute to a bunch of candidates: county commissioner, school board, township supervisor. It’s like that when you have five kids who need to get and keep jobs through the political system.”
“For 10 bucks, we can christen a commode in your honor. That’s the best we can do, Stush. How does it sound?”
“The way things have been going at your facility, that sounds perfect. The check’s in the mail.”
Paul Sunyak is Herald-Standard editorial page editor. Reach him at 724-439-7577 or psunyak@heraldstandard.com