THE ONLY THING LEFT IS FEDERAL PRISON

For likely millions of America’s senior citizens, maintaining quality of life and even basic survival is impossible. Thanks to the current economic crisis, the finances of many of our senior citizenry can no longer support housing, health, transportation, nutrition, and personal maintenance needs.

Oh, you think getting old means a perpetual vacation? And you point at the gravy-train of Medicare and Social Security benefits? Hah! Yeah. Well, they’re going broke in like eight years?

We have such an economic and political mess on our hands right now that the people in charge cannot get it fixed.

Raise taxes. Bail out crooks. Send money to foreign interests who laugh at us and squander. Yes, yes, also be sure to raise the pay and benefits of the guys and gals who are in the business of running our government. They’ve done such a great job over the many years they’ve been in power. And don’t forget to give to them honorary degrees, and pay them huge fees to speak to our young citizens who are stuck with the massive debt that they are creating.

Could cronyism, self-interest and protection for silence be factors in the game they are playing with our country’s survival?

Politicians...go ahead, take your perks. You expected there would be many when you decided to run for the office you felt you deserved. Hey, I’m not just speaking about the Washington glitterati. There is plenty to point at when the local and state blow-hards take the stage.

Vacations, fact-finding nonsense, adulation, and kissy-face with the power crowd keep our elected herd of rulers mooing and bleating for more of whatever they can squeeze out of us or away from us.

All that having been said, here’s the straight feed – the meat of the matter: The only thing left is federal prison.

Sure. You think I’m kidding. You’ve read my cheeky chuckles and ambitious fluff. Not now. Not this time. I’m serious.

I’m almost deadly serious; because you, me, your mom, dad, family members and friends may have to commit a FEDERAL CRIME in order to be fed, clothed, housed, groomed, entertained, and medically cared for.

In other words: Many of us cannot survive unless we commit a federal crime and are sentenced to a federal prison. And I insist upon targeting federal prisons because the local and state lock-ups might be unacceptable to the needs and preferences of oldsters. What seniors need are country club style prisons.

Senior citizens are the primary group I’m addressing. Their chances for employment are practically non-existent. Jobs, everywhere, are dwindling. Younger people are the better fit.

Sheesh, don’t hand me that age discrimination stuff. What a limp bit of politically-correct crap that is.

Oldsters lose to youngsters. That is fact. However, I’ve seen reports of borderline cases where the disease of maturity is being treated.

The fight to keep or gain employment is relying on cosmetic estheticians and surgeons. The cost is dear, but credit cards are handy. Besides, they’ll never pay them off. And a good-looking pauper is not as scary as an ugly pauper when you’re forced to sleep in a cardboard box in a dark alley.

The only company I can legitimately recommend as a politically correct star in the hiring effort is Wal-Mart. Joke if you want, but the truth is that anyone has a better chance of being hired by Wal-Mart than any other company. And Wal-Mart offers diversity in many areas.

So, now, just what does federal prison offer to an oldster who can’t take it any longer? Hang out a bit longer with me, and we’ll take it logically to its conclusion.

The following represents speculation only. It is not a road-map to committing a crime. Nor is it a suggestion that someone should commit a crime. It is simple daydreaming, folks. And creativity relies on a lot of daydreaming.

Let’s begin with THE CRIME. And it must fit the parameters of a FEDERAL CRIME.

THE CRIME:

1.)      Prepare to commit far enough in advance of the crime and rid yourself of valuables. Give to your family or charity. Don’t bear the embarrassment of a Living Estate Sale. It’s painful and you’ll never get what the items are worth. Besides, it’s important to have as few assets as possible so you can get a public defender.

2.)      Keep it simple. Don’t wear a disguise. Wear something memorable and let your face shine. Look directly at the camera wherever and whenever possible.

3.)     Don’t use a weapon. You don’t want to hurt an innocent person.

4.)     Be really angry and show your fists. Be loud, determined, and as nutso as you can possibly manage.

5.)     If possible, bring your friends. Make sure they follow the above suggestions. You want this to be a team effort so that you’ll have all your buds in prison with you. Club Fed is what some people call the really nice places.

6.)     Take the bus or hire a cab. You want it to be a one-way trip and your family shouldn’t have to bail out your car from the police impound lot. Keep your expenses as low as possible.

7.)     Select an appropriate mark. Your goal is to be sent to a full-service federal facility. Do your homework. Pick your crime method carefully.

8.)     Be sure to include your spouse or age-appropriate sweetie. Don’t abandon her or him to struggle alone. Besides, the warden or the government may decide to save space, comply with the conjugal visit regulation, and be ultra sensitive to your fragile bones by giving you a spacious cell and outfitting it with a Sleep-Number/Craft-Matic bed. You could also get extra-credit for the Bonnie and Clyde factor.

THE CHARGE & SENTENCE: Your goal is to spend the rest of your life in the care of the government and have them be responsible for an appropriate send-off.

1.)     There are bank robbers in federal prison. If you should decide to rob a bank, research the jurisdiction category and the amenities of the location. You might want to enjoy a site-supplied cup of gourmet coffee before saying: “Stick ’em up.”

2.)     Commit tax evasion. Become a racketeer. Work an investment scam. (There are inmates in federal prisons for such crimes.)

3.)     Go for the maximum, time. Your public defender may try to make his bones by getting you off on a clever defense, but it is your life and personal security that’s at stake. You don’t want to be set free to struggle in a world full of crime, poverty and decadence.

PRISON

1.)     Make sure you get good food. Cat or dog food is unacceptable in prison.

2.)     Make sure your cable connection is sufficient. Premium channels, please. By all means, get the biggest, bad-ass TV allowable by law.

3.)     Make sure you see the dentist. They may even decide that you could use a brand new set.

4.)     Make sure you see all the doctors. Find it. Fix it. Use it. Whatever IT is.

5.)     Take your medicine. Feel good, and take the good stuff on time. The whole rest-of-your-life is ahead of you.

6.)     Get together with your friends for board games and outdoor sports. After all, they were your partners in crime. Make new friends, too. Some felons went solo. Besides, no one lives forever.

7.)     Learn a trade. Get a diploma. Become friends with the computer and the Internet.

The above listings sound ridiculous. Yes? No? But what if you think about the things you see on TV or read in the newspaper? Is it really that far-fetched?

How many times have you been outraged that bad people get privileges and victims get no justice?

How many times have you wanted to live in a gated, protected environment with expensive amenities?

How many times have you heard about the good life at senior communities and seen the smiling faces and active, envious lifestyle?

You see, facing the future as a lonely, deprived, sickly has-been is what is more likely than ever to happen to good people.

“Going In Style,” a 1979 movie, starring George Burns and Art Carney was about senior citizens who robbed a bank. Thirty years have passed, and the prospect of senior citizens committing a crime in order to survive doesn’t seem like a joke. Does it?

The Mayan calendar says that December 21, 2012 marks the end. The real end to end all ends. That’s just three years, seven months away. Is that why no one cares anymore?

THE GUPPIES OF OUR LIVES

There they are...directly at your feet...willing martyrs...almost whimsical artifacts of stupidity, awaiting destiny’s hand.

Will they be quickly dispatched to board the whirling aquatic spiral of fate?  Yea, to surf upon the cool (sometimes vivid blue) waters of the flush-o-rama ride to the great beyond?

Or do they linger on a secret plane of destiny, and despise the foolish torment of lurking in the shadows of a world un-visited for months on end, while the twisted hand of terror creates a haunting specter of petrified perfection or fossilized speculation?

These are the Guppies of our lives.  And they deserve to, at last, be recognized among the greatest mysteries the world has ever known.

Hey there, folks, don’t stop reading just yet!  I’ve barely begun to delve into the psyche of the inscrutable Guppy.   And please be assured that I am not currently, or ever have resorted to, cooking up batches of wacky weed for subject matter.

You see, I was dusting and polishing the other day, and noticed that I had almost missed the corpse of a Wasp.  Uggies!

Well, I absolutely hate to disturb any entomological creature lying-in-state, but the thought of others paying their respects forced me to quickly stop this wake-in-progress.  Mr. or Ms. Wasp was air mailed directly into the vacuum cleaner’s bag.  Whoosh!

Now that’s, generally, the way I find inspiration for subject matter.  Yes, cleaning chores can stimulate the mind and provide distraction to combat the humdrum of home maintenance.  Thus, from far out in left field, I caught a long-dead memory of the bygone era when my household attempted to experience the serenity of an aquarium.

Aquarium ownership seemed so simple, once upon a time.  All those pretty fish, and tiny bubbles playing their way through the castle and treasure chest, before bursting to the water’s surface, sure did offer an atmosphere of peaceful comfort.

Okay, so we went full-boat.  (Geeze, I pulled that pun on purpose.)

We bought all the gizmos.

We bought starter fish: Guppies.  And we expected to add exotics as soon as we figured out the color scheme of tropical fish.

Whatever intelligence we thought we possessed disappeared with the purchase of the Guppies.  They simply refused to follow the guidelines governing tropical fish behavior that we had imagined.

We did everything for those little pariahs.  We cleaned their home, gave them toys, monitored their feeding schedule, and talked ever so sweetly to them.  Nothing could please our willful Guppies.  They kept breeding and escaping, until they just settled on escaping.

I swore they were growing little feet and running away.  But that speculation of evolution was proven wrong when I moved the bookcase beneath their aquarium, to do some heavy cleaning, and found their poor, stiff little bodies (sans feet).

I also discovered that dead Guppies do not send out an odor alert.  They apparently take on the properties of plastic.

We tried!  They died...time and time again.

It didn’t help to rotate a watch schedule so that we could catch them on their downward plunge to the carpet and return them to the bubbling castle’s meadow.

Oh, no!  They figured out what we were trying to do, and waited until we blinked.  That’s when they booked their flight to freedom and ultimate demise.  That’s when we gave up, and agreed that serenity was not worth the stress.

Please don’t think it insensitive of me, but a delicious feeling of serenity can be experienced with the following recipe.

TROPICAL SALAD WITH SEA SCALLOPS*

1 lb. SEA SCALLOPS (FRESH OR FROZEN)

1 15-l/4 oz. can PINEAPPLE SPEARS

2 tblsp. WHITE WINE VINEGAR

1 1/2 tsps. SUGAR

1/4 tsp. LIME PEEL (shredded/grated)

1 1/2 tsps. LIME JUICE

1 tsp. CORN STARCH

1/8 tsp. GROUND CINNAMON

1/8 tsp. GROUND CUMIN

1 cup SUGAR SNAP PEAS

1 medium HEAD BOSTON OR BIBB LETTUCE (6 to 7 ozs.)

1 medium MANGO (peeled, seeded, and sliced)

1/2 medium CARROT (finely shredded --1/4 cup)

Thaw SCALLOPS, if frozen, and set aside.

For dressing: Drain PINEAPPLE.  Reserve 1/3 cup of the PINEAPPLE JUICE. (If you get the canned Pineapple with natural juice, for God’s sake don’t throw it away.  That’s delicious juice, and I’ll bet it’s healthy too. Save it for breakfast.)

In a small saucepan, combine the reserved PINEAPPLE JUICE, WHITE WINE VINEGAR, SUGAR, LIME PEEL, LIME JUICE, CORNSTARCH, CINNAMON, and CUMIN.  Cook and stir until mixture is thickened and bubbly.  Cook and stir for a few more minutes.  Remove from heat and cool.

Cook SUGAR SNAP PEAS in a small amount of boiling water for a few minutes.  They should be crispy -- not mushy.  Drain and cool.

Rinse SCALLOPS.  Cut any large SCALLOPS in half and cook in lightly boiling water for 1 to 3 minutes or until opaque.  Drain.

Line four individual salad plates with LETTUCE LEAVES.  Arrange SCALLOPS on one side of each plate. From SCALLOPS, fan out PINEAPPLE SPEARS, MANGO SLICES, and SUGAR SNAP PEAS.  Drizzle with dressing and sprinkle with SHREDDED CARROT.

*Recipe courtesy of HEB

(This is: A 'Mother Cupboard’s Comfort Corner' Tale - c1999)

Blog: I Hate Dial-Up

So here I am on this beautiful Mothers' Day and I'm trying to navigate the web using an antiquated computer and dial-up. 

You see, my wireless broadband is kaput and AT&T has no sympathy and no sense of urgency.  I have to wait until tomorrow for a repair person. 

This has been going on since Friday morning, and hours of back and forth calling and disconnects have made me a monster.

The recordings, robots and unimpressive human contacts tell me that AT&T does not really value me as a customer.

The last representative, who had the great fortune to receive my fifteenth calling attempt, knew I was mad.  I actually spelled it out for him: M-A-D, as in pissed to the limit of teed-off tolerance.  He cheerfully rambled about my needing to answer a few questions to get my service restored. 

Now, I had been at this same exercise for hours, but he had one script and it was only one script.  And he was going to follow that script to the letter.

I had to sit there and take it.  It was the only way to get service restored. 

I won't go into how many calls I got from a "service restored to your satisfaction" robot.  My service might have looked fixed to some switching station, but the fact was that nothing got fixed in over four hours of contact. 

Their robot even phoned me while I was holding to speak to a person, because another robot just called to ask the same question.  Call Waiting beeped me while I was on hold for a rep, so I had to hit zero for the new call and lost my place in line on the previous call.

Does this sound like a day at the amusement park?  Yeah, sure it does.

The upshot is that the rep on my final call was fed up with me...but...he still had to say his final insult: "You will be contacted to answer a few questions regarding the customer service you've received..." 

That's when I said: "I am finished answering questions.  Don't you dare have anyone call about what kind of service I've received.  Just get the damned thing fixed and leave me alone."

Then he mumbled something about thanking me for my time and thanking me for choosing AT&T. 

Now I'm limping along with dial-up.  Things are taking forever, and I keep getting error messages.  And I keep getting cut-off.  Is it revenge?

If this blog ever makes it on the page, I'll be stunned.

Adios.

IT'S ALL HGTV'S FAULT!

I have been steaming for quite a while about HGTV’s level of guilt in creating and purposely increasing the economic crisis.

So, you think: “What a lousy thing to say about such a benign schedule of programming. After all, there’s little or no cursing or swearing. And they are so interested in introducing us to happy, colorful, idyllic life-styles.”

Yeah? Hey. Let’s get right to the point:

THEY BRAIN WASH MILLIONS OF PEOPLE INTO BELIEVING THAT MOST LIVING SPACES ARE BORING, RIDICULOUS, PIG STYES.

Can I get an Amen here? Not yet? Sure, I’ll just continue along.

Take, for example, House Hunters. They scream ‘Location, location, location.’ They also make sure to mention how wonderful the property will look once the potential homeowner considers the changes that will be absolutely necessary to ‘put their own mark’ on any property shown.

“Put their own mark.” I love that little excuse for ripping out perfectly good cabinets, countertops and appliances. And I love it when they can’t keep their mouths shut about landscaping and rescuing other spaces from utterly offensive color and décor.

The real kicker with the change-‘em-up people is that the initial introduction to the potential buyers very frequently points out that their current living conditions are ugly, dirty, cluttered hovels of humanity.

You know the drill. TV celebrityship immediately turns said couple into responsible, haute couture connoisseurs of all things wise and wonderful. They also become quick learners of how to turn potential living space into party central.

The realtors, designers, and programmers want all of us to buy, buy, and keep buying. Location, renovation and happy times must be uppermost in selecting a life style. They are experts in teaching us how to do it. They are killing us with overblown expectations. Thus, we buy houses that are beyond our means, and renovate to the point of bankruptcy.

Oh, and we are required to entertain...often. And we must cook and buy fancy foods, drinks, and smarty-style clothes. After all, we are now homeowners, approved and certified to reside in an HGTV episode. Don’t we look happy?

All this is done in the name of viewership. But we now know that people believed, with all their hearts, in whatever HGTV was pushing. Sadly, foreclosures and loss of jobs are taking it all away.

Not to be dismayed, HGTV is pushing foreclosures and preying on human greed. “Make an offer. Sure, low-ball it, and let’s see what the counter offer is. It’s a lovely property, but it could use a little updating. Those appliances are about three years old, and the lighting fixtures could use an upgrade. They should knock a little off for a few nicks here and there.”

Do you get it yet?

People had a hard time, in the first place, affording the stupid property. They figured they could squeak out the payments and still have enough credit to do the renovations. That bit of sweat and tears would make them look like savvy sophisticates.

Then the every-day living costs arrived in big and little envelopes. Then a little child or pet needed medical attention. Then a job was eliminated or hours were cut. Then they absolutely had to have a car(s) to keep up with the neighborhood and that became a frivolous burden. Then the entertaining came to a standstill. And, further, the fancy kitchen became completely unnecessary, along with the deck and outdoor kitchen fiasco.

Still don’t get it?

Okay. HGTV is directly responsible for mesmerizing the public into buying and doing things they could not afford. HGTV is still contributing to economic collapse.

People can’t buy. People can’t sell. People can’t renovate, and people can’t fix properly. Real estate is in the gutter, and even home improvement activity is a tough sell.

What is the solution?

Oh, come on. Do you really think I know the answer? I’d like to figure out a way to sue HGTV for depraved economic indifference, or any legally challenging reason.

Ain’t gonna happen, folks! We are stuck. That is the truth. And HGTV could care less. But, the next time you hear “It’s a little over our budget, and it’s a little farther from work than we’d like, but it’s so good for the kids and entertaining, that we just have to have it and put our own mark on it,” please change the channel.

One more observation: When you hear ‘we want to put our own mark on it’, just think of a dog or cat, or other animal. When an animal puts his or her own mark on it, it usually means someone has a mess to clean up or step into.

Do we get it, now?

No Shoe Polish, Sherlock

You know when you just want to spout an expletive, but have to be careful you don't offend?  Well shoe polish is my expletive for today.

I've been lurking around the Yahoo and Twitter communities today and find I can't ignore the swine flu or Mel Gibson.

I just know that the media is desperate for the ultimate discovery of swine flu within the halls of Congress. 

Schools and businesses are being shut down.  People are masked and scrubbed raw.  It sort of makes one wonder just how long this can go on before everything shuts down.

After all, we are pandemic driven.

Then comes Mel Gibson with his version of the Octomom.  Hee-hee.  She's his new girlfriend!  Seriously!  I'm not the only one who saw the resemblance.  Which also leads me to wonder if Nancy Pelosi and the Octomom have the same plastic surgeon. 

Remember the character, Mr. Bill?  Well, 'ooo-nooo', lips, bulging eyes and frozen expression seems to be the common tie.

So...Shoe polish...SHOE POLISH...SHOE POLISH.  There's just no other way to shout right now.  After all, we need to be politically correct in all things.

That's another thing that drives me wild.  Why so much PC angst?  Certain people/groups can say whatever they wish. 

SHOE POLISH.  As in: "No shoe polish, Sherlock."

That's a wrap for now. 

4/29/09