Happy Birthday to Me.

I am now 59. Wow, I remember in junior high thinking that the highschool students were really old and sophisticated. And in High School thinking the college crowd knew everything. And the banner of our generation, "Don't trust anyone over 30." Oopps. Remember how we thought all of our teachers were really old? And that our parents were clueless. I would love to be 16 again, but only if I could be 16 and know what I know now. Those lessons were painful and I wouldn't want to repeat them for anything. We were young and invincible. I did so many dumb things, pretty much from the age of 12 on; Riding my bike across the top of the flumes on a dare; jumping off the top of the RR bridge, running the quarter on the Hobbs highway when I had just barely learned to drive. Riding on the back of motorcycles with boys who probably didn't have much more experience than me. We rode bikes without helmets, down C-Hill if you were brave enough. Instead of seat belts we got whacked by Mother's right arm if she had to stop at little more quickly than planned. We sunbathed without sunscreen, baby oil and iodine was the preferred solution. We played outside til the streetlights came on. We went to the beach in the summer and stayed all day. I loved laying on the raft and jumping off the tower. Remember how on really hot days the asphalt in the beach parking lot got spongy under our feet? We had curfews and parents that were serious about them. If I was 10 minutes late, my dad was sitting on the porch in his fire engine red pjs. That was always an interesting ending to a date. There was going to the Cavern theatre on Friday night and meeting boys at the skate rink on Saturday morning. Before we got our licenses, we would walk to Thelma's on Saturday to buy a vinyl album, usually $5.00. Walk back home and listen to music and hang out. I loved to go to the Babe Ruth field and watch the boys play baseball. Later when I was older, I kept score at the Connie Mack field for a couple of summers. Our parents hosted well chaparoned semi-formal dances for us - presumably to teach us the social graces. The police were a little more leinient back then. I got pulled over with a case of beer, but all Officer Fry did was make me pour each and every one out on the ground. He didn't take me home or tell my parents. It took almost an hour to find someone else to pull for me. And by the time I was 17, I could drive thru Sunset package and buy my own beer. $1.25 a six pack and $5.00 a case. And I drank Schlitz (ick). We could go to good dances, at the Elks. When I got caught racing on the Hobbs highway, in my 62 Impala w/ my 8 cylinder 454 engine, They did bring me home. Daddy was a little ticked and went and traded the Impala for a Volkswagon. And it's top speed was 90 floored. Looking back, he probably saved my life. We went to church on Sunday's, did our work in school - mostly, kept involved in Camp Fire and Boy Scouts and Student council. We partied at the sanddunes, and the Cottonwoods. We thought we were so cool. But really we were the ones that were clueless; we were always trying to be older than we were., always reaching ahead for that golden ring. I got kicked out of the Stevens bar by Ray and Jerry's by Art. Art would just say, "You can go, or I can call Voncile" It was kind of a bummer having parents that everyone knew. I was sure that all the rules were just a conspiracy to keep me from having fun. Actually, we lived in fairly safe times, and a community of caring people who cared enough to let your parents know when you were acting up. Kids today would be lucky to have "all of our problems." I have been careful not to mention the names of my coconspirators, but they know who they are. I can look back on this birthday and realize that bad and good, I have had a full life. I have many happy, joyful memories. There are many wonderful people who played various roles in my life, teachers, Camp Fire leaders, church youth groups, neighbors and friends. Life went on and we became the adults. Raising our kids, going to work, teaching school, and all the rest. It has been an amazing journey. I had the perfect childhood - no matter how bad I tried to mess it up. And I wouldn't trade any of it for all the money in the world.

Taking the Elderly Hostage

The recent Debt Ceiling disaster in Congress made me wonder if the people we have elected to Congress could actually pass a basic 8th grade Civics test. We do not send people to Congress to hold senior citizens hostage. We send people to Congress to govern, political agendas aside. The function of Congress is simple; they are to distribute the revenues which are raised by the taxes they create.
My son’s grandmother lives on her $1010 a month Social Security check. She lives in subsidized senior housing. If she didn’t get her check, she wouldn’t be able to pay her rent. Yes, maybe she wouldn’t be in this situation if she had saved more when she was working. But like many elderly women today, she lived during the time that the man was the breadwinner, and women stayed home and were housewives and mothers. When she was widowed, she went to work. Then when she was 62, she chose to take the Social Security that her husband had earned.
The debt ceiling crisis frightened her. She has trouble making ends meet as it is, even with some help from her family. She and other seniors living in the housing complex were extremely worried as this debate was broadcast on the nightly news. And most of them did not understand the debate other than there was the possibility that they might not be getting their check on August 3rd. They were just scared.
There are many points of the Tea Party agenda with which I agree. I am a proponent of tax reform. I believe that government spending is out of control and money is spent on the wrong priorities. I believe in a balanced budget. But I don’t believe in taking the elderly poor hostage to achieve these goals. Shame on those who do.