Kicking The Can

What a sour mood I'm in, why it's almost like being in anger…

Out for my daily constitutional today,1 and having done my business at the (Main) Post Office,2 I went back outside into the hot sun, shouldering my pack for the walk home, and, as is my wont, paused to check the headlines of the Long Beach Press-Telegram and the Los Angeles Times in their curbside stands.  Whichever it was, had a sub-headline that said something like 'Budget Process Stymied: Bipartisan effort blocked by conservatives and tea party'.  

Ah yes.  Those Tea Partiers.  Spoiling the party again…

Question of you current generation of Americans (as penetrated my apparently thick skull as I walked away, back to my small apartment, in my retirement years):  Why should your children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and so on, indefinitely, have to bear the burden of your irresponsibility?  

Oh, they don't have to?  They can just kick the can a little ways further down the road, like you propose to??  And make the U.S. government guilty of a massive Ponzi scheme???  Until its creditors blow the whistle????3

So let's let Bernie Madoff out of prison - and others like him, who made hay while the sun shone.  They are no more guilty than the U.S. government is.  Than the people's representatives are.  Than the people who elected them are. 

Is this really the way to run a country? 

I think not.   

Blame the Tea Party people if you want, for forcing the public to pay attention to what is going on: the ruination of the nation financially.  You can ignore the reality all you want.  But who do you people who believe that we should just keep on with 'business as usual'  think are going to pay for your irresponsibility?  Those Ponzi-scheme children of yours??  And grandchildren, and great-grandchildren; enrolled indefinitely - without their say in the matter???  

What a lesson you are teaching them.  Are responsible for having taught them.  

'But the same thing happened to us,' you bleat.

So two wrongs make a right, you say…

Come on.  Grow a pair.  And while you're at it, realize something, dear physical beings:

Where you're at.  To say:

The only way out of this situation - this mess, that you have participated in - is Up.  

Well, you can try to muddle through, on the same level as the problem was created on.  But that approach to the matter will get you nowhere.  Except precisely deeper into the very big hole that you are digging, as we speak. 

Wake up.  Time for a different approach.  THE different approach.

For, Time is being called on your lesson-learning.

Time to grow up.

Or perish.

I may look like an Old White Male, whose day has come and gone, to you.  But I can still think clearly.  And observe clearly.  And though I may appear to be as well a rambling old fool, 'looks can be deceiving;' and I say to you, without hesitation, from my theoretical (in more ways than one, you dig) solitary bench in the sun in a pleasant, peaceful park in this day and age: It's time for some clear thinking on where you're at on this planet; and in your life.  And I can tell you, with no hesitancy - no feeble-brained old-man nonsense4 - 

you ain't going to make it, to where you want best to go - to where is just waiting for you to get to - on this level.  That what you have left to learn - and best to learn; to 'get' - as, summed up, the whole point  of the exercise, of the life experience itself; the Big Kahuna - is that

Actions have consequences.

And I dread - off your record so far - what yours are going to be.

But I may be wrong.

(For you younguns: That last line is from 'I May Be Wrong (But I Think You're Wonderfu)' as best sung, in my opinion (with Doris Day's version a close second) in his trademark style by Frankie Laine.  But then, what would you know about that.) 

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P.S. I realize that this was a hard read.  But I decided to do it my way.  

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footnotes:

1) With a slight change in my routine: I've started taking a load of books with me, in my daypack.  After such a load the other day just down to the local park, to choose my daily reading from depending on my mood in the moment, I realized that, since I go out for a daily walk for the exercise, I may as well get as much exercise out of it as possible (short of jogging, which doesn't appeal to me one bit.  Been there, done that.  Not at my age, thank you very much), and put some weight in the pack going out, as well as having it available for some groceries on the way back.  Usually I have in it just the letters that I am mailing (returning, mostly), and a shopping bag or two, and, in these (short) winter days, my sweater, in case it turns out to be needed.  Today, it wasn't; was a beautiful, even hot, day out of my (small studio) apartment, which is sheltered, in this complex, from the sun, and thus leaves me not knowing, until I get out into it, what kind of day out it is.  What kind of day inside it became on my walk was the aforementioned sour one.  The reason for which I'm getting to.  If you've been a reader of my blogs for any length of time, you will know that I like to take the scenic route to my destination.   As, e.g., now:

     I just mentioned that my outgoing mail consists also of (much) mail that I am Return(ing) to Sender.  I am certain that I have mentioned before in these pages of my 'journal' that I had become accustomed to your - no, I mean accustomed to making donations to various and sundry 'worthy causes' that had come my way since I returned to the States (in early 2012), until it all became just too much (the mailing lists must be worth a lot in themselves, to judge by the number of appeal letters that started to come unsolicited my way), and I devised a way to try to stem the tsunami.  I  typed out a note, at my local, the Main, Library (I don't have a printer) and duplicated it as many times on a page as would hold it (which turned out to be three times), and then used that as my template to duplicate the message, which I started sending out to the names on MY mailing list ; pleading:

     'Dear (blank),

     'Sorry to have tho inform you that there are just too many 'worthy causes' out there that have come my way and I can't keep up with them all, sol I've decided simply to drop them all (how does one choose???), and instead, concentrate on helping to bring about systemic change  (There is a Better Way.)    

     'In the meantime, good luck with your worthy cause. 

     

     'Sincerely,

     'Duane 'Stan' Stanfield  

     (I sign it whichever way my name got on their mailing list: I go by both names.  And have received a plethora of return address labels, as contribution-inducement goodies, in both names.  Anybody want - oh, right; that won't work, will it  Too bad.  they're going to waste - and keep piling up - here) 

'P.S. And accordingly, please take me off your mailing list.  Thank you.'

     I have taken to underlining the latter comment, inasmuch as the machines that receive the donations back from the public don't seem to read English.  Which is actually another - though allied - subject, that I am liable to get into, at some point.  (This business of requiring, in this country, the ability to read/speak English, I mean.  Not the subject of automation.  Although, that's a good subject to get into sometime also.)  But to continue, for now, here.  Which is to finish the point I was about to make.  Which was to report that my note turned off the daily influx of my mailbox a bit, but hasn't succeeded in doing the job fully (even with some follow-on returns of the note to the same damn sources.  I've been keeping a list, and checking it multiple times, fellas).  So I have been left with two resorts: 1) to the sources that put their return addresses on their envelopes, I write Return to Sender on them (which often requires me to add 'See Over', and draw a long arrow pointing to the back), hoping that their mailroom staff (or fundraising-business staff) will finally notice that there is something on the envelopes themselves, and take the hint, to clean my name from their m. list; and 2) to the sources that don't put their r.a.'s on their envelopes (having undoubtedly met up with my type of catch before, that needs a better lure), a) sometimes I recognize the mailing from previous encounters, and straight into the bin it goes; or b) I open it and see what kind of response I want to make.  If they include a post-paid return envelope, I usually take advantage of the opportunity, and respond in some fashion dependent on what I think is an appropriate way, considering the particular circumstance.  Sometimes I can be very snitty; especially if they have ignored my previous requests to cease and desist, and just continue to let the robots run their operation.  (Does it cost them more to clean their m. lists than to just keep sending out their donation requests, to an increasingly angry and turned-off public??  If so, what sort of public relations exercise is that????)  

     To all you bottom liners 'and that's all that matters' out there:

     We Are Not Amused.   

     And speaking of sourness: back to my theme for the day.  Part, of it.

2) which included - as usual, and mainly (besides for the daily exercise; a good twenty-plus-minute walk there) - getting some stamps; not just for a couple of letters that I had with me, but for future use.  (I am in touch with a lot of 'worthy causes'.  But I've referred to that already.  Just to clarify what all my trips to the Main P.O. are about, besides simply for the exercise.  And for, here, giving me an excuse to use the initials P.O.; as a way of sliding back into the state of mind that I am dealing with in this blog for this day of my life.  Clever of me, huh.

     Well.  Never mind.  To continue, with where I left off.  Most recently:)

     The fellow behind the window ended up giving me stamps from a set of baseball Major League All-Stars.  I have been given these a couple of other times at the P.O. recently, that I have enjoyed receiving, but with an edge to it all.  The good part: I was able to put, on one of my recent exceptions-to-the-rule of my attempts to stop with the 'worthy-cause' contributions (I can't really afford it; I'm on basic Social Security, for heaven's sakes, needing some of my S.S. savings to make it through each month as it is.  Why aren't other Americans doing a better job of saving this country from the One World socialists who are trying to take it over - and doing a damn good job of it, by the basic looks of it???), a stamp depicting Ted Williams, doing what he did best: hitting.  I felt a deep satisfaction putting it on the return envelope (post-paid as well; but often I put a stamp on those, too.  These nonprofit outfits need all the income they can get.  Too bad the professional fundraisers take a goodly chunk of what they receive back in the mail…) of an 'offer' from a very good outfit, called Judicial Watch, to join their 'Amicus Society,' which is the way to make a monthly contribution to them and have it taken automatically out of one's credit card or bank account.  Some of these outfits should realize better how many of us, as bottom-dweller retirees, can't afford to contribute large amounts at a time, need to spread our donations out.  Anyway, I felt good putting Ted at bat on that envelope - and even was drawn to write beside the stamp: "My favorite 'hitter' of all time.  Go get 'em."  (JW keeps a keen eye on the federal government, and especially the executive branch, regardless of whoever is in power.  Their job is to keep the administration transparent and incorrupt, as best they can, and blow the whistle on wrongdoing as loud as they can.  Good on 'em.)

     No Ted Williams this time; but Joe DiMaggio, alongside some other dudes of more 'modern' times.  Joe DiMaggio…Ted Williams…I have had the good fortune in my life to see both of them in action, in Yankee Stadium.  No - I take that back.  My memory has served me well, for me for recall that DiMaggio was not suited up that day, with the Yankees up against the Red Sox.  I went there hoping to catch them both, doing what they did best: play ball.

     "Joe DiMaggio," I murmured at the window, as I made my transaction; then, to the middle-aged man behind the window, whom I hoped would know to what I was referring, I said: "I wonder how many people today would know about the likes of Joe DiMaggio and Ted Williams." 

   And he gave me a look, and a few words, that indicated that he knew precisely what I was talking about.  That they don't make them like that anymore.

     On the stamps - on each of the the set of pictures - it says: 'Forever.'

     I wonder.  I really wonder.

     And left the P.O. feeling that I was being left behind.  

     That a lot was being left behind.  As this new generation took over.  And was at bat, for its own purposes.

     Not the values that made America great.

     And even that politically incorrect word: exceptional. 

     P.S.  What am I talking about?  I'm talking specifically about the likes of Ted Williams winning the American League batting championship one year with a .406 average - never surpassed (and no one else has ever finished a season at or over a .400 average).  I'm talking about the likes of Joe DiMaggio hitting safely in 56 straight games - never equalled; not even close.  I'm talking about - 

     Oh well.  Forget it. I'm just an old man, sitting in the sun in a park, with my memories, of days gone by.

     Nothing, really, to bother yourself about.  If you like making your way in the dark.  Not recognizing, or even knowing, that there were giants in the country in those days.  And that includes men in military uniform as well.  Who fought, and often died, for a way of life that you are squandering.
     But to continue.
     (A quickie throw-in from left field: If memory serves me correctly, Ted got 1 for 4 that day.   No heroics; just poetry in motion.  And I think they even had the Ted Williams shift on him that day, too; that it was invented by then.  (This was circa 1955-6.)  Look up the term, if you are really interested in baseball.  It was a distinct tip-of-the-cap honor to the man's batting prowess.
     Who was also a Marine fighter pilot.  And a champion competition flycasting fisherman.  And…
     As I say.)              

3) 'They won't do that, see, because the beauty of the scheme is that they don't want to lose their investment; hee hee'??  Right.  I can see that  What you don't seem to see - and I could be wrong in that estimation, of your actual intentions - is that they will simply claim their collateral.  Which is to say, practically all of the country.

     And merge it into the New World Order plans of the Cabal behind the whole, you should pardon the expression, shooting match.  Which it would most likely become, literally.  Since there are plenty of citizens like me, who are not about to see their country turned over to the barbarians this way.

     And though I personally am a peaceful man at heart…

     You don't really want to catch me in a bad mood.    

     Like the one that I'm in, right now.          

4) as opposed, of course, to feeble-brained young-man nonsense.   

     Of which there is a helluva lot around, these days.  But then that's just my opinion, of course.