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Down The Middle - Jan 8, 2005 - Printable Version
- "Live Fast, Die Young" and "Social Insecurity"
by Down The Middle
By Down The Middle
Wasn’t it James Dean who said, “Live fast, die young and leave a good lookin’ corpse? Well...I guess, he did.
I certainly took a shot at it. I lived fast in my youth, but I didn’t die young {believe me, there were times...}. I still remember crashing my old man’s Bonneville through a fence, at well over 100 mph, when I was sixteen {he was real proud of me for that one!}. The crash didn’t kill me...but the long walk home, with plenty of time to think about waking him up and telling him the good news about how well his car stood up, in the accident, damn near did.
Fortunately, my father was a patient and forgiving man. He didn’t break any of my bones...only my pride.
He knew I was lucky to have survived, and probably figured I had scared the hell out of myself, anyway. Unfortunately, there would only be a brief pause in my suicidal behavior. Before long, I would be testing the depths of other waters.
Growing up in a small town always presents a special problem for boys and girls alike...it’s boring. With nothing much to do, some kids will try almost anything to break the monotony. I recall, one summer {I was probably thirteen or fourteen} when myself, my friend
{let’s call him Ralph}, and a few others, began “hanging out” at an old condemned, three-story wooden granary down by the railroad tracks. We spent most of our time trying to impress each other by jumping from an upper floor door to the tops of the boxcars resting on the tracks below. Miraculously, none of us were hurt, but then, Ralph showed us the old rope and pulley elevator {nothing but wood frame}, which he claimed was stuck, up on the third floor. No one questioned his assumption of the “stuck” elevator, but Ralph took it upon himself to prove his claims to us by getting in the elevator and jumping up and down on it’s floor. Yep! There goes Ralph! Three floors down, at the speed of sound, to a sudden stop that landed him on crutches for a few weeks.
Several months later {after healing}, Ralph decided to hitch a ride on a bread truck which was leaving a downtown grocery, assuming it would be making it’s last stop at a restaurant, out by the interstate highway. As it pulled away from the store, Ralph hopped up on the rear bumper and held onto the back of the van with his hands. Yep! There goes Ralph! Everything went according to plan, with only one slight exception...the bread truck didn’t stop at the restaurant but instead, got on the interstate and headed back for the metro. Yep! There goes Ralph!!! Deciding to cut his losses {perhaps a bit late}, Ralph made the decision to jump {with the truck now approaching highway speed}. He spent a few more weeks on crutches.
I have to admit, my friends and I did some crazy things {although, I did turn down Ralph’s offer to go up to the football stadium and hang from the lights, by our hands}. Were we really crazy or just so bored that we were willing to risk life and limb for a cheap thrill? Maybe we just wanted for attention. Ralph’s father didn’t live with his family, and me?...I was the
fifth child of seven {You know...one of those over-looked “middle” children}. Whatever it was, it would follow us into our young adulthood.
Ralph’s first ride was a Yamaha, twin-jet 100. I remember, his mother wanted all of our parents to sign a waiver, so they couldn’t sue her if any of us were maimed or killed riding with her son. She probably should have continued that policy on into his automobile days. His first car was a Volkswagen Beetle that he rolled the first week he owned it. I think it was Jimmy, who was with him but it was Ralph that ended up on the crutches.
I shouldn’t even mention that little “head-on”, when I was eighteen. I wasn’t driving that fast and, to this day, I truly believe it to be the sole fault of the county for ever building that “country” road, in such a fashion. I admit, I knew that after you crossed the low-water bridge, you went up an incline where the road narrows to one lane...at the peak of the hill...under a railroad trestle! Did I mention, I wasn’t driving that fast? Anyway, it was probably good that the car was totaled. After our gallon jar broke {during the crash}, it just didn’t look quite right with all those rather large splashes of purple passion on the light blue head-liner, seats, and carpet. Jimmy took a couple of stitches {I never have figured out how he shattered my windshield with his chin} and Ralph wasn’t hurt {actually, he wasn’t there}. I remember, Dad made it very, very clear to me that evening that he and I {not to mention the
Highway Patrol} really needed to stop seeing each other this way. At that point, I began to realize how dangerous the roads could be. Maybe, I should be flying?
I guess, I was probably about twenty when, one foggy night, two buddies joined me in a small road trip to visit a friend, at his farm, about twenty miles away {as the crow flies}. Being the proper host, he offered us orange drinks with lots of California sunshine...oh, yeah. After a couple of hours of small talk and a few strange sightings, we decided to make the trip {if you’ll excuse the pun} back from whence, we came.
I was “kicking out” my 350 Pontiac, {doing a little over a hundred} when, who would have thought it, we came upon a rise with a “T”, in the road. Gadzooks! Believing my eyes, I stomped the breaks, hooked the wheel at a hard left, and went airborne, somehow completing the left turn {in mid-air} as we flew about thirty feet, before touching down on the far side of
the road and sliding sideways, down the long slope of the grand ditch. Not a word was spoken, either by me or my two sun-shiny passengers. The moment we came to a stop, I turned my head to see them both, low in their seats, with rather large eyes, peering out from their defensive positions. Nothing was said. {In fact, they didn’t say anything for the next twenty-four hours.} Being as, we didn’t roll, I immediately punched it out of the ditch and back up, on the road. The rest of the ride was...fairly quiet.
It was becoming painfully obvious, my friends and I were... “in need of guidance”. Was it really the attention we were after? Maybe, we just wanted the girls to notice us {of course, they weren’t going to ride with us...but maybe, they would notice us} or maybe, we were just “bad boys”.
I even began to pose the questions, “Did I have some sort of death-wish”, or was I just “crazy as a June Bug”? Could it even be survivors guilt, from losing my best friend to a bicycle accident when I was only nine? Whatever it was, it would surely kill me if I didn’t change my ways.
The last time I saw Ralph perform any “tricks”, he backed out of a parking space a bit too fast, causing the rear wheels of his El Camino to jump the curb behind him, which was situated on top of a steep, thirty foot incline with another road at the bottom. Having drawn a sizable crowd of “watchers”, Ralph decided he would just “back down” the slope, to the
road below. Yep! There goes Ralph! I watched, in anticipation with the others, as he took off in reverse and I heard his voice {ohooooohooooohhooooohhh!}, all the way down, until he hit the road below. With a loud bang, Ralph came to a sudden stop and both of his doors flew open! Ralph emerged to the applause of the awaiting audience. This time, he was unscathed...but the El Camino would need crutches.
After many more daring adventures {none of which I care to talk about, until I’m sure of the statutes of limitations}, I did, finally, change my ways. With all the people who had loved me and feared for my life, it was the advent of my daughter’s birth that finally slowed me down. In the end, maybe, I just needed...to be needed. Things would be different for me now. After all, someone would have to teach this girl how to drive.
Social Insecurity
By Down The Middle
Well...there goes our Social Security! Yep, it’s gone! Don’t worry, though...I’m sure George will be happy to have everyone come on down to the ranch and bunk with him. I bet, if we help him cut back that pesky cedar brush, he’ll even throw in a little barbecue and organize some line dancing, on the weekend...that is, for all you retirees that will still feel like dancing.
Yes, Mr. Bush has taken it on himself to “fix” our Social Security program. There’s just one thing that strikes me a little strange about that...IT AIN’T BROKEN!!! I know, I know...for years, we’ve heard the stories about the system going broke. The simple truth of the matter is, the only problem with our Social Security, is Congress having a key to the lock box. Every time they overspend {which is almost always}, they just run over and borrow a little from our retirement fund. When they do this, we lose the interest our funds are collecting, and then we have to pay out interest on the money they borrow, to pay back the fund.
All our system needs is a little skillful “tweaking” {a small increase in our Social Security tax and/or an adjustment in retirement age}. This has occurred more than once over the years since F.D.R. gave us the means to protect our elderly and infirmed from the ravages of poverty. Now, we’re going to “fix” it, and “fix” is probably the correct word.
The faulking truth is, the system is totally solvent to the year 2018 and actually could pay out full benefits until about 2042. Even then, with a 25% reduction in benefits, the system would still continue to work for decades. There is no urgency!!!
If this is true {and, it is}, then why, with all the other problems facing our nation, would Mr. Bush and his supporters care to open up this Pandora’s box? It is certainly not to save the system, because the system obviously doesn’t need saving...at least not in the foreseeable future. So, why?
I think it can all be explained in a couple of words. MO' MONEY! You must know one principal of human nature to understand; Greedy people never get less greedy! Locusts stay no longer than the food supply, and then they move on to the next “green” area to feed. {Ain’t that right, Robin?} Our nations “locusts” seem to have found a “green” field that hasn’t been ravaged, yet.
When these “people” first began hinting at this “fix” {before the market crashed out, after 9/11}, they told us, it would only be two percent but that was quickly changed to four. No big deal...right? WRONG! Apparently, what they meant to say {hahahahahahahaha} was FOUR POINTS out of your entire paycheck, not four percent of your Social Security withholding!. Dig it, you pay in 6.2% and your employer pays in 6.2% SS withholding. They are now, asking for four points of the 12.4 withheld. That’s right! They want close to a third of all the Social Security funds!!! As our system “feeds” from the bottom, up {current workers pay in, retired workers benefit}, this “fix”, in itself, will probably collapse the entire system {which, of course, means you would lose your benefits, even if you opted not to invest}.
It is already estimated, the start-up cost of this “fix” will run us two trillion dollars {I could start my own country with that!} but I’m sure my countrymen won’t mind paying this little fee {I like to call it the “little rip-off before the big rip-off”} And what about this money they would like to invest in the market for us? Tell me, does the market only go up?
What if it goes down?
Well, it does go down...and if we allow this “fix”, our Social Security program will go down with it. Then, who will take care of grandma and grandpa? Not Mr. Bush! It shouldn’t be news to anyone that the Republicans do not care, if grandma and grandpa die in the gutter. The only thing they know is greed, and now they’ve got their eyes on OUR retirement fund.
There are only two reasons to “fix” Social Security. Political: The Republican ideology runs counter to ALL social programs. {They got the money and they don’t want to share it} and Greed: Although Republicans don’t want to share their wealth, they don’t mind sharing ours. They want these funds to be in the market so they can be STOLEN! {Is that plain enough?}
If Mr. Bush thinks we should be able to invest OUR MONEY, then maybe it shouldn’t be withheld from our paychecks to begin with. If that is the logic, get rid of the program altogether and let us keep our money {as he are so fond of saying}, and then, we’ll decide where to invest it. Maybe, I’ll buy a big bottle with mine...I think I’m going to need a drink.
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