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"SUICIDE, TOO MANY BILLS"

In my humble opinion, Please note there’s nothing humble about me, leastwise my opinion. Life is to be enjoyed. Broaching this position is nothing less than courageous, in this, the year 2020. Therefore, I shall preface this report by asking you to push our current events to the backburner, so I may expertly address human psychology, both normal and abnormal. Be aware I am currently unlicensed in this and any other state you may read this. Paperwork snafu, I suppose.


Even in a COVID free world, stress exists of course. Stress, that which puts a stranglehold on our heart and circulatory system and snuffs the life right out of us. Stress is here to stay and the challenge is to minimize it and deal with it. As it turns out, it’s all relative. To paraphrase, “Idle hands and minds are the devil’s tools.” During the ‘Great Depression’ of 1929, millionaires were doing half-gainers from windows of what were at the time, tall buildings. Having had nary a problem prior, now faced with being broke was catastrophic. Conversely, those already poor and accustomed to sleep, sans a full stomach, ratcheted up their already tenacious effort, found work, worked even harder and shared their spoils. The previously wealthy and often soft handed, didn’t look at shoveling coal in or out of a train car for $5.00, an opportunity. The destitute and calloused were lined up down the street for the job. What I’m describing, is rudimentary characterization and the wealthy of yesteryear could just as likely outwork many today. Again, the relativity thing.


Years ago, plying my trade as a bartender, I met an older gentleman who had lived and worked through it. He didn’t have wrinkles, he had deep lines, perhaps indicating the many roads he took through life to find work to care and feed his family. He in his seventies and myself twenty years old, squinted at me and said, “a day’s work and a cold sandwich, would be the end of your generation.” It always got a laugh but the relativity of our situations didn’t escape anyone.


My old man, who had scratched to find work during the Depression was talking about money with me one day: ”I’d never wish it on anyone, but just a taste of the Depression, wouldn’t hurt ya.” The message was clear. The days of wine and roses can disappear in a puff of smoke and don’t take things for granted.


Just about everyone went to the ‘poor house’ in 1929. One group was already somewhat acclimated to and adjusted. The affluent had much farther to fall and that’s what broke their neck.




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