Cipher Does a Balancing Act

By Rick Horowitz

The band is playing that patriotic music again, and the people -- more people all the time, he can tell -- are bouncing in their seats, pounding their hands in time to the beat. Even from backstage he can hear the pounding, the pounding and the bouncing both. Those chairs had better be strong, he's thinking.

Now the master of ceremonies is back at the microphone, and he's thanking the crowd for being such a crowd.(italic) And now he turns and he points offstage and he shouts, "Ladies and gentlemen, a big Town Meeting greeting for our very own Wally Cipher!"

This would be Congressman Wally T. "Flip" Cipher, highly-groomed heir to the styling-gel empire and tiny twig in the great Republican flood of '94. Cipher strides toward the podium, smiling and waving, waving and smiling. He can't see a thing -- they've got him facing right into the sun -- but he points at different people in the crowd (he thinks they're people, they could be trash cans), just the way the real politicians do.

The band is playing that music again, and the cheers wash over him as he smiles some more and waves some more. It doesn't get any better than this, Cipher thinks to himself: a congressman back home among his people, with a month-long recess on his calendar and a balanced-budget agreement in his pocket.

"In his pocket" is just a figure of speech, he reminds himself as the crowd settles down. He'd have to be Captain Kangaroo to fit this one in his pocket. But what can you expect from an agreement that has something for everyone?

"Our agreement has something for everyone!" he's telling them. "More spending for children! Tax breaks for college students! For home owners! For investors! Old people! Even dead people!" (This last one doesn't go over so well. He makes a mental note: no more jokes about the inheritance tax.)

"And the best part is: We get to a balanced budget in 2002!" The crowd explodes. The noise is so loud, Cipher isn't even sure he hears the sound in the back row. Then he hears it a second time, a little bit louder.

"How?"

The voice is standing now -- Cipher can see that much. And he says it one more time: "How? How do we get to a balanced budget in 2002 if we're giving everyone tax breaks and spending more money?"

The crowd turns to look at the man, then turns back around to look at Cipher. "It's very simple," Cipher replies. "We're also spending less money." The crowd starts to stir -- nobody's mentioned anything about spending less money. "But not on you!" Cipher shouts. "You all get more money!"

"Then who gets hit?" This is the man again. "Why can't we get the details?" Cipher feels the first bit of moisture sliding across his upper lip. He licks the wet away and tries to stay calm.

"The details are right here," he says, waving a sheet of paper around. "Right here, for instance, it says: `$140 billion in discretionary spending cuts.' That's $140 billion." He's pretty sure the crowd is still on his side, but he needs to change the subject. "Now, let's -- "

"So you don't even know? Or you don't want to tell us?"

Cipher makes a decision. (He's allowed -- he's a congressman.) He decides to ignore the man. "And that," he says, punching the air for emphasis, "is how we'll have a balanced budget in 2002."

"What about 2003?" This time it's from the other side of the crowd -- or did the man switch seats? "Doesn't the deficit start going up again right away, when the really big tax breaks kick in?"

"A balanced budget," Cipher repeats, "in 2002."

"What about 2004?" (From somewhere else in the crowd.) "What about 2010? What happens when the baby boomers need Social Security? What if the economy slows down?"

Cipher is still smiling. It takes every ounce of energy he's got, but he's still smiling.

"A balanced budget." says Congressman Cipher, blinking against the sun. "In 2002."

8/5/97