"...everything's gonna be all right, I know."
Those are lyrics from a song written and originally performed by Merle Haggard, titled the same as this column. The track was released in 1973.
Though the subject matter deals with a blue-collar man dealing with the hardships of being laid off from his factory job at Christmastime, it also offers a glimmer of hope once he's through the Christmas holiday and the cold winter months, hoping to even resettle in a warmer climate.
Despite the bleakness, the protagonist has an eye towards the future, even hoping that things will be better elsewhere, because "Daddy can't afford no Christmas here."
Just this past week, one of my former co-workers at the radio station blogged about the state of the public welfare system in this country and those who shamelessly take advantage of the system.
If you hadn't read it, look on my facebook wall. Scroll down. You'll find it.
Many things needed to be said, and she said it best.
I have never been on any kind of food stamps or public assistance in my life. She has. Thus, she has a hell of a lot more room to talk about the subject than I do.
Not only that, she was a second-generation welfare recipient who was able to 'break the cycle.'
It's called 'assistance' for a reason. To assist. To help others who are going through a tough time until they can get back on their feet.
Or, for those who are physically or mentally unable to contribute, a means to survive.
Yet I see too many of the able-bodied dependent on 'the system' to carry them.
They shamelessly laugh about the fact about how they 'beat the system'.
Well, guess what. I have news for you.
'The system', as you call it, just beat the crap out of you and came back for seconds.
You want to beat the system? Fine. Here's how you do it:
First, get yourself a piece of land. Big enough to plant a vegetable garden.
Grow your own food, including a cotton crop. Make your own clothing. Build your own house using wood you felled from a tree.
Supplement your diet by hunting for game. Rabbits are fairly easy to catch. And who doesn't like the taste of hasenpfeffer? Deer are a little more tricky, but not altogether impossible. Ringneck pheasant is a good source of protein. Tastes like chicken!
Or make your own fishing rod and head to the stream.
Learn a trade. Carpentry, electrical, masonry, metallurgy, farming.
Ever wonder why it's called a 'trade'? Yep, we bartered one for the other! That's what we did in the olden days before we went from worshipping in church to worshipping Fort Knox.
And get this. After each day of 'survival' the good old-fashioned way (like with no TV cameras or Jeff Probst), the only thing you'll want to do after the sun sets is sleep. Because you'll need it when it starts all over again the following day.
If you can truly say you live off the land and off the grid, then congratulations. You have indeed beaten the system.
I know times are hard. But they could be much worse.
I hear stories about people who lose their jobs and then lose their homes.
How does this happen?
By taking on more debt that you can handle. By having too much faith in job security. By unwillingness to shelve personal pride to the point of taking ANY job, as long as it was still a means to provide.
When I was 'relieved of my duties' at my first radio job in 1989, I didn't 'hold out' for the Pittsburgh market or another radio job.
I had student loans that were coming due. I had outstanding credit card bills from my freshman year. Though I still lived at home, I was obligated to repay those debts that I alone created.
I didn't run off and declare bankruptcy either.
I went and applied at retail stores, six of them, and even mustered up the courage to apply at a convenience store. The last place I ever wanted to work.
Guess who called...and nobody else.
I had to learn to tie on an apron for my job. Scrub floors. Clean toilets. Deal with drunks on the graveyard shift. Hope to hell I didn't get robbed in the middle of the night while in the store by myself. Block and dust aisles. Wipe down the counter with 409 about every 15 minutes. Measure the fuel storage tank levels.
All for $3.70 an hour. Part-time. I did work 40 hours a week, but no vacation or health care benefits.
And I didn't up and quit when my phone did ring two months later from a radio station with a job offer, which was again, a part-time one.
I stayed on a few months longer (and properly resigned with advance notice). I went home tired after my shift ended each night, but I felt I earned every penny of what I made.
Ironically, I was ashamed of it.
Maybe it was that classmate from high school that saw me in there, looking at me with the saddest eyes and saying "What the hell are YOU doing here?"
When I interviewed for the new radio job, I was reluctant to tell my prospective employers that I had another job and that I was not willing to 'advertise it'.
That was at my first interview with the program director, then another with the administrative assistant, and then finally a third with her and the station owner.
He asked me "are you working now?" I said yes.
"What is it you're doing?" he asked.
The moment of truth. I looked towards the admin. She smiled and said "you can tell him, it's OK."
So I did.
His reaction: "Oh, is that all? I thought maybe you were a bagman for the Mafia!"
After a quick chuckle, he looked me in the eye and said something I'll never forget as long as I live.
"Listen. Don't you ever be ashamed of what you do for a living. As long as you work hard and it's honest work, you're all right by me. Some people are OK to sit back and collect a welfare check."
The message I send to you is this:
Work done well, and done honestly, will never be done in vain.
No matter what it is. Whether you build the floor, stand on it as you give a presentation, or clean it afterwards, you've contributed.
You will go to bed at night knowing that you've done something useful with your day.
When you have that sense of accomplishment, nothing more matters.
NEXT WEEK: Christmas Cheer
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