You didn’t build that. Barack Obama
The “you didn’t build that” statement just chaps my grits. The more I think about it the more pissed off I get. The whole premise is high way robbery of intellectual and tangible property at the most insidious level. Pure Sophistry at it’s best or in this case worst. There are those who argue that the statement was taken out of context and that he didn’t really mean that literally. Well after reading the statement in context and thinking about more I am certain that is exactly what he meant. And I am outraged and don’t like it one bit!
It is a direct attack against the entrepreneurial spirit and willingness to put ones ideas and hard work, life savings, blood sweat and tears to make an idea come to life. The very back bone of what made our country great. Our ancestors came over to the New World and started doing exactly what Obama said that we didn’t do – building things. We built homes, farms, villages, trading posts, roads, factories, ferries, foundries, hospitals, golf courses, restaurants, department stores, automobiles, home appliances, bridges, railroads, airports and all the wonderful things that we enjoy every day of our lives. All of it started by an individual with an idea.
These accomplishments did not just spring out of the ground unbidden by some mysterious shared cosmic belch. One minute there is nothing and the next minute iron ore leaped out the ground, fired itself into steel and then sprang into the air to form a bridge. These things first came into being in a human mind, a man or woman, thought of these things, planned them out, assembled the raw materials and man power and brought them to life.
When our country came into being there was no “government funded or supervised” anything. Nothing, zilch, nada. Individual efforts, not a collective think tank of men out of touch with reality, brought into being whatever people thought needed to come into reality. Everything that existed in pre-America was privately owned. Things were brutally simple then. You work or you die. You plant crops to feed your family or you starve. Individual effort, work and accountability were the order of the day.
Want shoes for the horses and you know how to work iron? Open a black smith shop. If Obama or Elizabeth Warren went back in time and walked up to the owner of the blacksmith shop, or the grocery store, or a farmer and said “You didn’t build that,” the most likely result would be a punch in the nose, followed by a firm statement of “get out of town” or “go back Europe and live under a king’s rule. Go live under a feudal or socialist system where you cannot own the ground under your feet. Go live where you don’t even own the clothes on your back. Give everything you have earned to your lord and master. Let him decide who to reaps the benefits of the fruit of your labor. It won’t be you, that’s pretty much a guarantee. It will go to whoever whines the loudest.”
Went riding along in Hubman’s truck the day after the election. Mother in law started a rant in the back seat. Young people just don’t want to work. I spit back “well it’s a good thing they don’t, because there are no jobs for them anyway.”
“People just don’t want to work, they’d rather be on welfare.” Oh really? Well a welfare check and a selling a pint of blood will almost pay the rent. Yee haw, throw a party. Then I thought hmmm…. If no one wants to work, then why is there an unemployment rate? And why is going up? I thought the unemployment rate was defined as the percentage of people who were actively looking for work that can’t find a job. But…but…but how can that be if no one wants to work? Riddle me that?
Then she started spouting Rush Limbaughisms, muttered about all the little girls who want free pills. This is referring to the Sandra Fluke hullabaloo that happened a few months back. I bit my tongue but wanted to say “excuse me but it takes 2 to tango, if the little boys kept their pecker in their pants, little girls wouldn’t want or need pills now would they?” But I didn’t say it, instead, being the rational and calm person that I am, I lost my freaking mind and starting screeching. “JUST STOP IT! Stop it! Stop it! I can’t…take this…ANYMoOOoRRRE! And I sure as hell can’t take it for another 4 years.” Then I started sobbing. Dead silence ensued.
I cried all the way to where we were going. A Lock and Key Store to buy a safe to lock their valuables in because the riots are going to start any day now. Obama got re-elected you see, and the gates of hell are now officially wide open. And yada yada, and blah blah blah. I stayed in the car and cried the whole time they were in there buying the safe and continued to cry the whole way home. Mother-in-law hopped out of the car like a scalded cat and ran for the door the second we pulled in her driveway.
My eyed leaked on and off for the remainder of the day. After using up a box of tissue I gave up and just let the tears fall. This morning my eyes were so swollen that I look like someone beat me with a sock full of quarters in my sleep. I feel like I had ripped a band aid the size of a placemat off my heart and everything came bleeding out.
Struggles as a child, walking the streets at night looking for coke bottles to cash in to buy a bag of pinto beans to feed the family. Struggles as a young single mother, looking for a job and lying about my age to be old to enough to get a job. Having to lie and say I had no child to get a job, and hoping I didn’t slip up and mention the child at work if I did get the job. Single mothers are a bad risk because they might want to do irresponsible things like stay home to care for a sick child. Not good for productivity. Not good for the bottom line. Stockholders don’t like that.
I thought of all the times I’ve laughed at off-color jokes in an office thinking “you stinking scumbag.” Now, now, don’t want to get into all that sexual harassment nonsense. Grown women should know how to take care of themselves. Ha! Whatever happened to the notion of things you don’t say in the presence of a lady? Did we give up the right to be female, the right to have any semblance dignity when we went to work, because we HAD to go to work? Or starve.
I never had that choice, staying home was not an option. Sure, it was an option if I went back to live with my child’s father who would beat me senseless if I happened to blink the wrong way. I seemed to blink the wrong way a lot, it turned out. He didn’t want me to work, of course. If I went to work someone might see the bruises, or I might meet another man. As if another one of those creatures was what I was looking for. The last time he back-handed me and split my lip I left, baby on hip and walked 6 miles to my grandmother’s house. She took me in, but told me that I should go back because he was such a nice man with short hair and my baby needed a father. Guess she didn’t notice my clown lips or the blood on my shirt or the fingers marks on my neck. She was an expert and not noticing things.
I thought back to the day a patronizing boss sat me down to talk some sense into me when I asked for a raise in pay. He decided to walk me though my expenses to show me how I was just squandering away my paycheck and didn’t know how to manage money. I’ll never forget the look of shock on his face when he realized that it was true. I did not make enough to cover the most basic of expenses. There really was nothing left over for luxuries like gas in my car or heat in the winter. His solution to the problem? He offered to have an affair with me and “help out” with my expenses. I declined and left the job soon after that.
That’s when I turned to night work. A young woman can make a lot more money from tips slinging drinks in a bar than working at an “honest” day job. Enough to almost live on… sort of. The problem is that you pick up your child from the sitter in the morning when they are wide awake and ready to rock. You’ve been up all night working and are bone dead tired, but no sleep for you. No rest for the wicked.
Try holding a sick screaming child in your arms, convulsing with fever and get turned away because you have no money to pay a doctor. Shame, shame, wasting all that money on food and rent. Think that doesn’t happen? I know it happens, it happened to me, it happens all the time. Mr. Husband told me, “but that’s against the law, they can’t turn you away in an emergency room.” Well, Bubba, guess what? Things that are against the law happen all the damned time. If it didn’t, the news media would go bankrupt. If there is no law breaking, no dirty laundry to snicker about, then there is nothing to talk about. No news.
Yes, there have been times in my life when it has been hard, gut grinding, stone cold, bitter, hard as nails. Hard to make it through the day. Hard to make it through the night. I’ve cried myself to sleep with a dollar bill in my hand because that was every penny I had in the world and rent was due the next day. Somehow I made it through.
The next time someone tells me that people are poor because they are lazy I’m going to sit them down and duct tape them to a chair if I have to. I’m going tell them about my life and dare them to look me in the eye and tell me it was my fault. Look me in the eye and tell me I was too lazy to work. Look me in the eye and tell me that I didn’t try hard enough. Look me in the eye damn you. Just shut the hell up and look me in the eye. I dare you. See how far you get. I’m not keeping my mouth shut anymore.
So today is the big day. Election Day in the U.S.A. I’ve been waiting for it for 4 years and God almighty will I be glad when it’s over. But, it won’t really be over, it never is for those who spent every minute of the day obsessing of what the government is going to do, not doing, planning to do, failing to plan.
Of course I want to know who will be our President come January. But I think I’ll get over it. No matter who wins. I’m sitting firmly on the fence right now. Obama has some good ideas and some idea I don’t care for at all. The same goes for Romney.
The Hubman and I are heading out to vote in a while and that’s when the hammer falls. I’ll have to make the decision. Voting is so much more final than say ordering food in a restaurant. You can’t take a look at what’s on your plate and say “Uh, I don’t think I want this after all, would you be kind enough to take this away and bring me a salad, and a double martini while you’re at it?”
OK, it’s so maybe it’s downright scary. This is the first time in my life that I really gave a hoot who became president. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m older now and have lived to see the consequences of past choices for president. Or maybe it’s because I live with a politico-obsessive who sees the harbinger of doom peeking out from under every rock. It’s impossible to live with another person and not be affected to some extent by their outlook on life.
So what will tomorrow bring? It will bring another day. That’s the only thing I can reasonably sure of.
What part of “I don’t give a rat’s ass” do you not understand?” I always want to say that to anyone who wants to talk about the downfall of society with their eyes bulging in a hysterical fervor of righteousness.
Ordinarily I hate to talk politics, but since this my own personal monologue/soapbox, I will. I am a Democrat who accidental voted for the other guy, Mr. What’s-his-name who ran against Obama. My nasty little confession is that technically it wasn’t really an accident. I got lazy, I admit it. Due to an extreme case of apathy, I didn’t get around to voting Democrat to cancel out Mr. Husband’s vote for the Republican du ‘jour. I can’t even remember his/her name.
Oh now it’s coming into focus. It was the guy who chose Sarah Palin as his running mate. I remember thinking after all the shouting was over with, “well now, when push comes to shove, people on the fence will vote for a black man before they risk a woman near the throne, I mean presidency. We have not overcome quite yet. Still a few bigotries left in our collective closet. Don’t really have room to gripe since I didn’t vote, but I’m still gonna say my piece anyway.
I’ll put it nicely and say I think Palin was inexperienced. Then I’ll say what I really think. I don’t care how pretty the package is, if someone believes that the end of days is near and that the remnants of society after the big housecleaning by a vengeful God are going to straggle to Alaska? I’m not getting on that hay wagon. It’s true! I saw her talk at a her church on You Tube. ***chuckles***
I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday. Furthermore, I don’t want to go to Alaska unless it’s via cruise chip to admire the glaciers from afar while sipping champagne. How’s that for “let them eat cake!” ala Marie Antoinette? But she got punished for her political ignorance with a trip to the town guillotine. Maybe I better wear an iron turtleneck and watch my back.
Every once in a while I buckle down and try to get to bottom of what the hell is really going on. What is the true meaning of the latest 870,564 page document that heralds a new tomorrow, a chicken in every pot, protection from ourselves, blah, blah, blah.
It usually boils down to the mother of all headaches and the synopsis goes something like this:
“We have decided to create another level of bureaucracy where we can charge $5,838 for a toilet seat. It will help the economy, remove warts, and wash your dishes too. The consequences of such self-interested foolishness, er uh, wise stewardship, we will blame on the opposing political party. If it goes really wrong really quick, we will claim that we are suffering the consequences of the a previous bill that the those fool hardy bimbos on the other side of the political playground rammed down our throats.”
The child hood book “The Emperor’s New Clothes” should be required reading for anyone who thinks they even begin to understand all this. A healthy dose of skepticism all around is the order of the day.
This is my opinion and I am perched on my fence and stickin’ too it! Until I change it.