Intelligence. Compassion. Ambition. Determination.
These are not words generally used to describe Gordon L. “Gordo” Bisbee, a 37-year-old divorcee who makes a pretty mediocre living as a door-to-door spoon salesman. Generally considered slovenly, craven and uncommonly ignorant by neighbors, coworkers and even strangers who pass him on the street, Bisbee hasn’t exactly had a good life, much less a good year.
But this year, 2006, that’s all going to change. Because in 2006, Gordo Bisbee will make a difference.
Will it be in the field of medicine? Science? Education? I had no clue. But I decided to find out.
With the help of an IRS field agent who was coincidentally also seeking Bisbee to find out why he hadn’t paid income taxes since 1998, I located Bisbee’s home address. After tailing him for a while as he made his spoon rounds, I cornered Bisbee and asked him what difference he was going to make in 2006.
“Excuse me?” Bisbee asked, shaking the dirt off his pants leg he got a few moments earlier when a prospective spoon customer had kicked him off his front doorstep. “Get out of my face, you crazy fool. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Perhaps because of modesty, Bisbee was, at first, hesitant to speak. But I persisted, asking him if he was going to volunteer his time to assist children with learning disabilities, or perhaps try to donate a large quantity of blood throughout the year. Bisbee just stood there for a while, saying nothing. I thought he was overcome with emotion at the thought of getting publicity for actions he was planning to keep to himself.
Then he reached into his sample case, pulled out a large soup spoon and hit me with it. Then again. Soon he was beating me liberally about the head and shoulders.
I was about to alter my line of questioning and ask Bisbee why he was beating me liberally about the head and shoulders with a soup spoon when IRS Agent Rodriguez and two other individuals (I was later told they were with the FBI) jumped out of a van parked across the street, ran over and knocked Bisbee to the ground. As they were cuffing him, Bisbee began frothing at the mouth and kicking in my general direction.
“Fink!” Bisbee yelled at me as they dragged him over to the van, one of the agents methodically reading him his rights. “You dirty fink! This is all your fault!”
Sighing as the van drove off, I realized that people like Bisbee—people who will make a difference—are indeed a rare breed. They truly serve as examples to us all. MTW