This is my second blog.

My first blog chronicled my experiences over three years caring for my dad as he lived through and finally died from Alzheimer's. That is the book that is for sale.

This second blog kind of chronicles of life, what it is like to start your life over in your late 50's. After caretaking, you are damaged, file bankruptcy, and the world doesn't care what you did. After 8 months of unemployment, you wake each day knowing the world doesn't want you. Finally you do find a job, 5 weeks before homelessness, but doing what you did 30 years ago and getting paid what you did 30 years ago. So this is starting over.

The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.

Wednesday, July 2, 2014


You would have thought by now I'd become accustom to living poor, but things do surprise me.

Just about ready for a hair cut.  Real complicated for me, it's a buzz cut with the #4.  Takes the gal less than ten minutes to cut my hair, that is from the time she calls my name to collecting the cash.  But I'll be danged if I can find a place anywhere charging less than 15 bucks for such a hair cut.

And now I realize, after taxes, I have to work over an hour to pay someone to work 10 minutes.

Now I understand when seeing a doctor or lawyer or such, all that education to provide the expertise, and I know to get a hair license it takes two years but this is a frigging buzz cut I could probably get some gal at Petsmart to do - except they would probably charge more.

I am starting to look at almost everything now like this, how many hours do I have to work to afford to buy this.  I work two weeks a month to pay my rent, four hours a month to pay this bill, four hours that bill, so basically another week of the month to pay all the bills, leaving me about 6 or 7 days a month to buy food and whatever.  After the federal and state governments take their ounce of blood.

I make less a week now than I made in a day before taking care of my dad.  Seriously.  When I did my own consulting company, I made 100 bucks an hour.  Only worked two or three days a week on average because, well, didn't have a wife pushing me.  Want it, buy it.  So, maybe this is kismet.  Oh well,  no good deed goes unpunished, as the saying goes.

Then I wake today to see the headline on Drudge that some artist in Britain took her bed with the used sheets, spread some food on it, dumped an ashtray on it, threw a few used condoms on it and then called it art and sold it at auction.  Are you sitting down?

Four point four million pounds, which is, oh who cares, it's still nearly 4 million bucks.  Somebody just spent 4 million bucks to buy a mess on a bed.  Someone else just got paid 4 million bucks selling her bed, and didn't even wash the sheets first.

If you love the world, you aren't of God - but somehow I don't think these people care.


I was so looking forward to July, the month with the extra paycheck.  That biannual extra check to enjoy, to build up a little protection, to buy some things I'd been putting off, like underwear, shoes, a cushion to sit on so my butt doesn't get so damn sore working, and the brakes fixed.  And maybe hire a lawyer to do the bankruptcy.  But now I have this light on my dash that if I fix will cost me $600 bucks, pretty much taking away much of everything else.

And, at least I have a job.  Nor do I kid myself that most people are going thru the same sort of decisions and have been for years.  Fortunately, I don't have kids I have to disappoint, that would be so much tougher.

So we wake each day, struggling to hang on another week, to another paycheck, while someone else spends 4 million of petty cash to buy an unmade used bed with condoms and ashes, and I try to form a logical argument against the idea that the wealthy shouldn't have to pay a very serious tax on wealth.

But even if such a thing happened, or my prediction stolen from John Loeffler, that the government would confiscate all the IRA's and 401k's to provide a guaranteed pension for everyone, even if such a thing happened, I would never see it, nor will you.  It won't go to the plodders of the world, it will go to the bankers, the blood suckers, the takers, the vocal minority groups, and the politicians.

We will never see a good fair tax plan in this country.  A sales tax of 5% and an income tax of 20% on earned and unearned income over, oh, say 84K?  Everyone pays and the rich pay more.

Now we are going to add 30 million new people to this country who will further erode wages, further tax our crumbling infrastructure, all padding the pockets of a few people who can waste 4 billion pounds on seriously stupid bedding called art.

Gonna take a freight train
down at the station, Lord
I don't care where it goes
Gonna climb a mountain
the highest mountain now
but gonna jump off
ain't nobody gonna know

Can't you see, woh can't you see
what that woman, Lord
she been doing to me?
Can't you see, can't you see
ah what that woman
she been doing to me

I'm gonna find me
a hole in the wall
I'm gonna crawl inside and die
Come a later now
a mean ol' woman, Lord
never told me goodbye

I'm gonna buy me a ticket now
as far as I can
ain't a never coming back
Got me a south bound
all the way to Georgia now
till the train a run out of track

Marshall Tucker Band