Driving south on the New Jersey Turnpike, a thirst for coffee brought me to a rest stop near Secaucus named after Alexander Hamilton. As I turned off the engine I noticed a figure at the edge of the parking lot, dressed as for a parade in a somewhat wrinkled Colonial costume. I got out of the car, had to pass the man rather close, and noticed that the clothes, although worn, appeared authentic. Maybe he was a movie star or extra. As I passed him he cleared his throat.
"Pardon, Sir, but could you tell me where I am exactly, and why everything appears so out of keeping?" His voice was rather subdued and he had what seemed to be a British accent.
"You are on the New Jersey Turnpike at the Alexander Hamilton rest stop. It is the nature of New Jersey's pike to appear out of keeping," I explained.
"I am familiar with New Jersey, as I spent a good deal of time in various capacities here," the man said.
As he turned toward me, I tried to hide the shock of recognition. Before me stood Alexander Hamilton. "I know who you are, Sir," I stammered.
"I, in these strained circumstances, hardly know who I am. But it is kind of you to recognize me. My accent comes from my origins, and most people in my time and place had such an accent. Yours seems more nasal than that to which I am accustomed. All these wagons and carriages — they are moving without horses?"
"They have engines under their hoods. They run on fossil fuel. It's hard to explain."
"Not steam engines, I presume. And they are all made here?" he inquired.
"No, many are made in Japan and Europe. Some are made here, but we have taken to outsourcing our manufacturing, Mr. Hamilton."
"Japan, so odd. And by outsourcing I assume you mean giving business to those overseas?"
"Yes. Our trade deficit is enormous. It is in the tens of billions of dollars a month."
"That is beyond comprehension. Has the country grown beyond the 13 states?"
"Yes, to 50 states, from sea to sea."
"Let me ask you about my three-legged stool theory. You may not know it, but I promulgated the idea that our nation would thrive if it balanced manufacturing, agriculture, and commerce. Has it?"
"Not exactly, I'm afraid. We are weakening ourselves in the manufacturing arena, and in commerce because our roads, rails, ports, ships, and air travel are in jeopardy."
"Ah, that is what I have seen flying like large birds through the air. But this large road you call the New Jersey Turnpike — isn't it up to date? It is so busy."
"Yes and no. Our highways were designed 60 years ago and not a great deal has been improved or added since then. It's been even worse with the railroads."
"But surely the family farm is thriving?"
"No, families are more or less leaving the farms. We now import a great deal of our fruit, wine, water, cheese, and other consumables."
"My three-legged national stool appears to be falling."
"I will not disagree with you, Sir."
As he walked off into the growing fog, I could see tears in his eyes.