Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Tarantula Tuesday

I'm just trying out new names for the next big Wall Street suck-day. I'm trying to pick something scary opposed to the lame names they pick for Hurricanes. If I were naming Hurricanes I would name them very evil-sounding names. Like "Hurricane Gorgoroth the Horrendous," or "Hurricane Mexelmithrablooddrinker, the Cat-Slinger." Yeah... not after Grandmas, Hurricane Edna. Come on.

So, its been a fun ride here in NYC since the curtain was pulled back to reveal the Wizard was just a bunch of greedy Sons of Pitches preying on the weak and poor. (Holy crap, if I was in a barber shop quartet THAT would be our name: The Sons Of Pitches. Beauty. Don't steal it!) I've got some friends who I think are out of a job... but amazingly, things are holding together. Wall Street has most certainly changed. I saw a well-dressed Wall Street man punching out a panhandling homeless man.

Come to think of it, most of the homeless people in NYC are actually much wealthier than the average American. Just to a quick inventory... how much debt do you have? Like most Americans, we are in the negative. (Mostly my fault: Student Loans. Darn that Baylor. Rice DMA was free though!!!) I just bet the average Joe or Josephine could probably say, "I am worth negative 150,000 dollars, give or take a few hundred thousand after we pay off that super-extended mortgage when we are collectively 153 years old." But the homeless man? I bet nary a credit card. Maybe they've got it down, huh? Maybe camping out in Central Park under the soft, rustling autumn leaves doesn't sound too bad. Hey, if they had a teepee, they'd be Indians.

I don't know though... maybe the place to be is somewhere in the middle: Very little possessions, no debt, helping and serving the neighbor, and letting yourself be helped and severed BY the neighbor...

{This section has been removed. It was a lecture and I grew tired of hearing myself talk.}

As far as this stuff goes, do we really need one? There really isn't a better answer for how we should live than the one found here.

Btw, most homeless people in American aren't homeless because of financial destitution, they are homeless because they are mentally ill. How did I get on this subject? Oh yeah, Wall Street. *yaaaaawn.*

I do hope that they get something worked out here. I'm more afraid of the manic trader these days than I am that weird homeless lady that follows me for a block every time I accidentally run into her at the convenient store. (I made the mistake of making eye-contact ONE time while innocently buying gummy bears. That did if for her. She started asking why I was looking at her and then kept saying "something FISHY was going on around here," as she stared at our matching bags of gummy bears. I assured her that I had no interest in fish and that nothing of the sort was up. This made it worse. Therefore, I no longer darken the door of that food mart. It was a RIP anyways. I mean, a buck-fiddy for a dinky little bag of gummy bears???)

Ah well, such is life.

At least the crazy lady can afford the expensive gummy bears.


Susanne said...

You're so right. People in this country are so over-extended financially, and it's mostly because they're trying to one-up their neighbor. Everyone thinks they NEED things that are actually just wants (preaching to myself here as well). I love the Bible passage you referred to...what a great reminder of how God will always provide what we need (basic needs...not fur coats for the PTL lady, gazillion dollar home for Mr. Osteen, etc.), no matter what happens on Wall St. Maybe more people will start listen to good ol' Dave Ramsey after this mess. He has the right idea when it comes to finances.

Joanna Martens said...

how did you know my grandma's name was edna? something fishy indeed.

Electric Monk said...

Why is your neighbor severing you? That doesn't seem like a very neighborly thing to do.

Seth Ward said...

Susanne, I'm convinced the whole secret to the Christian life is in that group of verses.

Joanna, I am a tad psychic.

Electric monk, yeah... not my favorite love language.

Anonymous said...

sounds like you're talking about rich mullins to me. his possessions were a couple of shirts and the clothes on his back when he died.
gave away what he earned, and lived on the res' serving the kids & families in his last days.