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Yesteryear

Saturday, August 21, 2010

August 21, 2010

           This is the Ft. Lauderdale water taxi. This is not the boat Wallace and I rode last year. You pay $15 and get an all day pass, the taxi stops at 14 locations, a lot of them waterfront pubs. But if Wallace gets here in time for my birthday in November, this is his present.
                    Another astounding bingo session without the profit. It was bingo anniversary, a full year during which the show has evolved into definitely one of a kind in America. Or if there is anything like it, they are keeping it a very close secret. It is time to get some of this on DVD. Favorite new item is the full “sammyzonk”. I can explain.
           Years ago, right here, I reported somebody in the audience could make an unearthly sound, like an alarm klaxon. Turns out, it was Sammy, the bartender. I recorded him and was using it to “zonk” false bingos. It struck me last week this noise must have a frequency, so by using Audacity software, I lowered and raised the relative pitch until arriving at a credible imitation of the old “shave and a haircut” ditty.
           Instant hit, when some people heard it, I swear I brought a tear to their eye.
           Alas, my equipment is wearing out. My digital camera is broken, along with my DVD player, VHS tape deck, microphone and wireless router. I’m not mean-mouthing the equipment because electronics like these get heavy usage around me. My budget does not allow for any repairs until late October, hey, in total contrast to my upbringing, at least I have a budget for these things.
           Trivia. Seven hundred years after being dispossessed by British invasion, it was still common for impoverished Irish peasants to will the titles of their hereditary estates which they no longer own. Such, apparently, is the hatred for the English even today. I happened to be reading a tract about the rugged Atlantic coast of west Ireland and came across names of estates rather than the current political divisions.
           That’s when I noticed a concurrency of the English and American public assistance laws, as the amount the Irish poor are given in aid is based on these estates being taxed at something called a “rate”. It is the rule, same as we have in America today, that only those people of zero net value can receive any welfare, even in times of need. On the surface, this law makes sense. Why should somebody, say with a house, get any help?
           Because if you don’t help them until after they lose the house, you will have created a monster. It requires a working and productive members of society to have possessions like houses which represent an accumulation of value. By requiring this class of people to lose everything, you also destroy their will to do so. Now, instead of net contributors, you have a class of people who learned to live on welfare, work under that table, and blow the money as soon as it arrives.

           Cecil W. Smith said it this way, “These are dangerous lessons for any government to compel its subjects to learn, and a dangerous habit of mind for any nation to acquire.”

           At first glance, I was leery of these new laws that prevent foreclosures but now they make a little more sense. But don’t go overboard, I say, once the house is sold, the spendthrift owners should have to pay back the assistance. Help them, but send them the bill. They hired the money, didn’t they? We don’t want any Canadian-style send the butler for the welfare check scenarios here.

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