Later this year when the petrodollar crashes and burns most of you will probably be hoping the Mexicans will revise their immigration laws. Likely you’ll recall the last time the US economy fell on really hard times how US workers drifted to Mexico and further south looking for work. It wasn’t a lot better there, but there was less English speaking competition for jobs.
Here’s an example from the Bogart movie, Treasure of Sierra Madre:
Things haven’t really changed much, have they. Except the guy doing the hiring and cheating them out of their pay is a gringo in Mexico instead of a gringo in the US.
I’m betting those Mexicans will be tickled pea-green to have gringos coming down to work.
Hi readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.
I saw a bumper sticker in town yesterday in the parking lot of the last Gibson’s store in existence. 20 year old beat-to-hell pickup with the sticker, “I make money the old fashioned way – I work for it“.
Judging by the truck, I’m guessing he’s probably telling the truth.
Inside the store when I went to pay for my purchase the cashier held the bill up to the light, then used a black felt tip pen on it and squinted at it again. When she decided it was okay I asked whether they get any phonies.
“Lots of them.” She shrugged and counted out my change, which I didn’t examine closely. That’s trust.
The fact is there are lots of old fashioned ways to make money. Working has always been the least efficient method, but it’s widely praised by people who have a lot of it by inheritance, politics, graft, bailouts, handouts, subsidies, and prostitution. Someone has to do the grunt work or the whole system of economics falls apart.
Fact is, someone has to ring the cash registers, clean out the sewer lines, change the oil on cars, sit behind desks doing meaningless, boring, dead-end chores all day or it would become downright inconvenient for people who made their money the various other old fashioned ways.
And those hamburger flippers and sewer plant operaters need to be able to find something about it they can construe as a virtue, rather than just being fools and useful zombies drawing lousy pay for essential work to keep things running.
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.