Good morning readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.
I was walking around in the Dollar Tree Store [Everything’s a dollar or less] when the manager came on the intercom:
“Dollar Tree shoppers! Don’t forget to pick up an item of school supplies for military dependents starting school in the fall. Pencils, pens, tablets, erasers, any item related to school. Dollar Tree will make sure it reaches the dependents of active military personnel.”
My hand stopped midway to a jar of Kosher dills. “Eh? My hearing’s really going to hell. For a minute I thought she said something about donating school supplies to military kids. Sheeze!”
But when she finished ringing up my purchases the cashier smiled and met my eye. “Would you like to buy some pencils or a tablet for military dependents starting school?”
I went snake-eyes. “You think I’m stupid for shopping here, don’t you?” I slid my hat back exposing my forehead. “Do I have a sign saying STUPUD tattooed up there?”
She tried to say something but I butted in. “Got a program so’s I can buy schools supplies for kids of crack whores? Kids of people in prison? Likely they really need it.”
The lady blushed. “They make us ask. I didn’t do it.”
“Here!” I pulled a dollar bag of flour out of one of the sacks. “Give them that if you can find one who knows how to cook something. Otherwise give them shopping carts and point them to your dumpster.”
“No problem. I give food to beggars. Not something they can sell or trade for drugs and whiskey.”
Soooo. Evidently the military folks aren’t even giving their families money for school supplies these days. Shouldn’t be long before their kids are darting out of alleyways surrounding people waiting at bus stops or traffic lights. “You wanta buy watch? Ring? Skivvy pictures?
Learned it from mom and dad who learned it overseas. Nice scam.
Back when they had the draft, conscripting people for $100 per month, wives and kids moving in with relatives, nobody thought of that one. Now they’re all volunteers for undeclared presidential wars, helping bankrupt the federal budget with their salaries and benefits, they’re panhandling. Trying to mooch off hamburger flippers and other minimum-wage-earners scrimping by shopping at Dollar Tree.
Someone sent me an email forward the other day explaining to me how illegal aliens, welfare recipients, other low-lifes and me, retired and living off Social Security, is what’s causing this great country to go down the tube. I swan.
I don’t have a TV, don’t listen to radio, don’t read newspapers or magazines, but I do get email forwards and see sidebar news flashes at Internet sites. So knowing the country is down the tube didn’t come as a complete shock to me. Every couple of weeks I go to town for groceries, chicken feed and other necessaries, and the fact gasoline prices are a mite high, bread, milk and produce are worth more than they used to be, and people are older, all had me wondering if things hadn’t slipped downhill.
But knowing all those old people in the grocery lines and I are causing it surely gave me pause.
Made me realize life is harder for people with ball-caps turned sideways, studs in their nostrils, belly buttons and lips, tattoo-tears running down off their faces, and attitude have it tougher than I did all those years I was younger than I am now, because I wasn’t up here then.
I mostly try to mind my own business and tend my own affairs. I don’t want to be a part of a problem someone else has. If people living down in the trailer parks sitting in the backs of their pickups drinking beer Saturday afternoons are suffering harder than they would if I was out living under a bridge somewhere dumpster-diving for a living I wouldn’t be half the man I think I am if I didn’t consider it a viable alternative.
I paid money every paycheck for about 50 years into Social Security, but I never figured I’d come to depend on it for a living. When it happened I never stopped to consider that expecting some of it back was different from people living off their military retirement, Federal Employment Retirement, or Congressional Retirement systems.
If I need to go dumpster-diving and live under a bridge to clear my conscience I figure I can do it. Lots of people are already doing it. Just looking at them I hadn’t thought about the moral high ground they’re holding.
74 years old, a resident of Leavenworth, KS, in an apartment located on the VA campus. Partnered with a black shorthaired cat named Mister Midnight. (1943-2020)
Since April, 2020, this blog is maintained by Jeanne Kasten (See "About" page for further information).
I’m sharing it with you because there’s almost no likelihood you’ll believe it. This lunatic asylum I call my life has so many unexpected twists and turns I won’t even try to guess where it’s going. I’d suggest you try to find some laughs here. You won’t find wisdom. Good luck.