I’m back fellas, and, In agreement with Pete.
I remember the incident like it was yesterday. I was a kindergarten student on my way home from a typical day at school. I had just gotten off the bus and was walking towards my grandmother’s apartment with a friend of mine. It was bitter cold and there was snow on the ground.
Twenty feet away, next to my friends building, lying in a divot in the snow, was a $50 bill. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but I rushed over and snatched it up in my little frozen hand as fast as I could.
“Look at what I found. It’s a $50 bill,” I yelled. My friend, as excited as I was, suggested that we go and tell his mother. I agreed, with glazed-over eyes, looking intently at the money as I walked.
When we showed my friend’s mother the money she said, “Oh! My husband lost this money! Let me call him and tell him.” I stood there with a shocked look on my face, my 5-year-old brain racing to find the logic to what I’d just heard.
My friend’s mother, with money clutched tightly in her talons, continued when her husband answered the phone (in her imagination, that is!), “Honey, what were the numbers on the money you lost it was 19698954? Yes, those are the numbers on this $50 bill Buck just found, so this must be your money, all right!”
She hung up the phone and informed me that the money was her husband’s, but since I was so nice to return it to them, she gave me a $5 reward. I walked off still trying to wrap my thoughts around what just occurred. I knew I had been conned, but my naive faith in the goodness of people facilitated the rip off, and I walked away dejected.
Luckily for me, I had a fiery Italian mother who went over to my friend’s house with a stick demanding they give the money back. They agreed and everything was fine, except for a lost friendship. My friend and I never talked after that day.
Twenty-five years have passed and I have not forgotten the incident. I often wondered why my friend’s mother did what she did. At the age of 30, I think I finally know why: she must have been a Democrat!
You see, the Democrat entitlement mentality robs people of their dreams. In my case, my friend’s mother robbed me of the childhood dream of finding a stash of money. Every kid dreams about finding money. Obviously, however, she felt that she was better qualified to manage large amounts of my money better than I could. Her entitlement mentality prompted her to take charge of my life and try to sedate me with a measly $5 reward. Yet, even back then at age 5, I knew the fix was in.
Today, the likes of Tom Daschle are the “Ghosts of Unscrupulous Mother’s Past”, taxing from one group and giving the spoils to another. I’m too wise today to believe in their ideology or accept their entitlement culture, but there are millions of people who aren’t so lucky. They believe in the $5 reward, and don’t think anyone, except the rich, can spot the $50 bills.
Thanks to the Democratic ideology, an ideology that apparently only a 5-year-old’s logic can see through, the entrepreneurial spirit of their constituency is dead and buried. As long as the Democratic leadership can convince them that an overall, 50% tax rate is less evil than rich people are, their spirits will remain entombed. What a pity!