WHY the Rich Get Richer

Let me preface this (as always) with the caveat that I am poor. I do not have wealth in the form of endless funds. I do have the luxuries that come with being a workaholic, which includes A LOT of eating out and travel (all as tax deductions).
Seriously, it comes in, it goes out. It really comes in and....O-M-G, HOW MUCH did you say you wanted...It's a vicious cycle.
 
My entire life I've heard the phrase. You know the one. WELL, recently I've gotten to spend time with people THAT REALLY, REALLY HAVE MONEY. I mean, they've worked hard, their family before them have worked hard, you know the rest.

The more time I spend with folks like this, the more inspired I am. (Also, the more I realize how I have no grasp of the poverty I and those around me live)....also, that credit limits can be limitless for some people. Who knew?

So in conversation with such, ideas come into play. They're buried in work and money and have no time or desire to enter various fields but are ALL ABOUT telling me what I should be doing with my last 16 years (60 is my max, people, don't give me any shit).

The one said, "There is a market for this too", when I approached him about a market that someone else had brought up (Joel). He went on to say, "Well, if you do that, it would be very easy to do this, branch that...", and on and on and on....

I guess people who succeed are ALWAYS thinking about "What would I do if this failed, what would I do if I decided I didn't want to work day in and day out with my brother in the flamily (yes, I typed flamily) business"...It's a whole different concept of keeping your eyes open for the next option.

I've always watched How It's Made and said, "You know the difference between that company and us?". ...IN UNISON, the Schutt family replies, "Yes, they have the equipment and we don't". True. Every day. That guy didn't start out making 8 million flip phone cases for Verizon Wireless. He was making personalized pencils with an engraving machine. Got the contract through a friend of a friend, and there he was. Standing next to me in Philly learning how to use the 8 new machines he'd bought with a home equity line of credit to fill this contract so he could teach his neighbors how to do it. Do or die. (Because I'm sure his parents were going to kill him if he lost the flamily farm.)

Necessity is the mother of invention. I am in NEED of money and jobs for my county. SO I am going to keep my mind and eyes open. (Did you know there is a machine that runs 24 hours a day printing the pads on the buttons on the controls within your car? Prints the numbers, etc on any calculator you buy, Jitterbug flip phones, landline phones? The buttons on your keyboard were pad printed. Um-hmm. Yeah, I met that guy too. Same place. (called pad printing. it's hard as shit to make a plate). Leaving that one to the Malaysians for now.

I guess what I'm getting at is if we all take the approach like "Why am I getting this from China instead of making this in Saline County (or Catskin)?" 

We started GIG with a $150 heat press off ebay. Granted, it was junk and didn't last more than a few months, but it made money to put into more and better and so on still.

I can't help but believe I'm missing something; that something is staring me right in the face; that my lack of action is going to be my greatest regret. Help me put my head on straight. If YOU have an idea for something (JOHN DUNN, you are excluded from this), pass it on. Tell a friend, tell your loan officer. Tell someone.

Uneventful, I know. That is all. (Sign me Stumped)



 
 

Friday Night Reflection

As I lay down tonight, I am saddened. I am saddened because we have become a country that begs for tolerance; yet I see intolerance every day of my life.  At ever corner, I see a label.  I see and hear each day in our shop and at the cafe, random people within and outside of my inner circle who spew statements and cannot be convinced that there is a thing wrong with it.

Yesterday, an older woman in my shop said she was tired of this country taking just anyone over our borders. It was of her opinion the borders should be closed, we are full, turn them all away. She closed her eyes last night with the firm belief that Obama was entirely responsible for there being any foreigners every entering this country. He is a king, and he is the reason for EVERY. SINGLE. THING. WRONG. in this country. (She had no concept of the idea of a democracy or Congress. It was all Barry calling the shots)

For only one of a handful of times in my life, I was speechless. I am speechless today. I've spent the last 30 hours or so reading about my civil rights. I've reread the Bill of Rights. I've read the amendments. I've been reading over the battle that Mr. King fought with so many others and the actions that JFK took at a point that, gratefully, I didn't have to endure.

I feel like we are clueless to what it has taken to get our country to this place.  I can't recall ever mistreating someone because they weren't like me.  Hell, we were all just alike. I don't remember any weirdos at school.  Really, I don't remember anyone not pretty much just like the next person standing next to me.  I recall after getting out of high school and going to college laying my eyes on the first person I'd ever seen in person that was from a foreign country. It NEVER once dawned on me to treat them any different. I thought it was cool. 

When I was about 10, my grandparents took me to the Grand Canyon and the Badlands and a tour of the west (because that is where Zane Grey novels were based and god forbid my grandpa not see all that in person).  We were in New Mexico on an "Indian" reservation. I have photos with a small Native American girl (that I'm sure my grandma pawned me off on for photos) in front of Old Faithful Geyser and another at Mount Rushmore.  I didn't feel compelled to punch these kids in the face because they didn't have my pasty skin color or talk slow.

At what point did the tides change and we start questioning people regarding what they did in the privacy of their bedrooms and give it a label? At what point did we decide that it was okay to degrade people because of how they felt regarding anything? When did we as a society decide that OUR CHOICE IS THE RIGHT CHOICE for everyone?

When did we decide not to take the tired, the poor and the huddled masses yearning to be free? How lucky are ALL of us that OUR ancestors weren't turned away at Ellis Island?  We come in this country and then with an arrogance of insane proportions, we decide to turn our backs on the tired and poor of our own.

The Internet is a wonderful tool for information (if you trust where you're looking).  But I feel it may have become a hatebox, rather than a soapbox. I see people every day post things regarding their stance on religion, politics, sexuality, how they hate their jobs, and just spill nastiness.  

I label myself a Democrat. I don't proclaim that EVERY Democrat is equal.  Giving yourself a label is different than someone labeling you. I can say that I'm Amy and I'm vocal and opinionated and think differently than so many around me, it seems. I can't, however, say that EVERY AMY is vocal, opinionated and thinks differently. 

Please think before you lump EVERY person in a class. Please take a moment to delete your noun and put, say, your kid's name or your special someone's name there. Repeat it aloud and then decide if you still want to make that statement. Without trying, we're getting too passe with our blank statements, and I'm becoming the old lady who wonders what this world is coming too.....

REALLY Giving Thanks

Today, I'd like to take a moment to REALLY give thanks. Every single day, I'm grateful for the things that all people are; i.e. food, health, shelter, you know.

But today, I'd like to take a moment to be really honest and thank those that have made a true impact on my life. (Don't judge me, Bitches, you don't know my life).

First, I'd like to thank the lady in customer service with Ford Motor Credit back in 2000. This agent really pissed me off. When she threatened to repo the car I was driving, she drove me to say, "Fucking come get it". (They did.) That resulted in an impound and tow charge of about $750. It did teach me patience and discipline with people in those positions. Now, when a CSR is a cunt, I either hang up or make a game out of it. If they argue, I ask for paper evidence and I pay it. Takes two to fight.

Second, I'd like to thank every utility company who ever negotiated with me on a"Just Give Me Til Friday" basis. That, too, taught me to plan ahead. Humility is a teacher unto itself.

To the bank that covered immeasurable amounts of overdraft fees and caused me to give up checking altogether for about 9 years, THANK YOU. Cash is king. Wouldn't even use a checking if we didn't have a business. But you did teach me NOT to bet on the come. The come sometimes doesn't come.

But more than anyone or anything, I have to give thanks to every false friend, every vindictive, jealous and negative family member, distant and closer, that said I was crazy, that I'd never do anything with my life; that I'd be a cashier (I wish) or a server with no education and do nothing whatsover. To you, I say THANK YOU the most.

I'm not done, I'm nowhere near where I want or intend to be, but I'm in the right direction. It is to the poor morals of the women in my life and the strong work ethic of the men in my life that I am the most thankful. When I think of which direction I could have turned, I shiver and realize that it's not always the parent of the same sex that has the most positive influence on a child. 

So if you see me in the Rural King looking at a piece of welding machinery or at Sears ordering an air dryer for my air compressor (in my kickass Muck boots) and my hair is not done, I haven't a fingernail or hint of beauty upon me, you (too) should be thankful. I could be donned in Aigner and camel toe jeans and shopping at the Village Boutique while fucking your husband.

This is the role I will play in my life and the lives of my children. If I seem crazy (I am) and sometimes screaming the opinion of something other than a doormat, that is the role I shall play. Either be a character in my life or sit back and wish you were.

amy

A Dolla Make Me Holla

(That is a self-portrait of my brain)

I've said before I wasn't raised as wealthy. I was raised to be a label whore.  Once I got out into the "real" world, I saw the box store, Aldi, Save-a-Lot from a closer perspective. I have had friends who made a game out of getting the most lunch meat for their dollar. Kudos to you. Been there, done that.

However, over the last 15 years or so, I've made a turn toward the "not-settling" approach. When I say this, I mean "If I can't get the one I want, then I'll do without until I can'. This, generally, works for me.

Where I'm going with this is that over a period of time, I may have gotten spoiled to things that many would view as frivolous. I like TV. I grew up with a TV in the kitchen, so I have a TV in the kitchen. I was in a situation a few years ago where I needed service to 5 TVs (God forbid one kid be treated differently).
DirecTV wanted so much for the 5th receiver that it was cheaper to have 4 additional TVs hooked up and have both them and Dish Network. (Well, heavens, if 5 is good, imagine how good 8 would be...and it SO is).

So tonight, when I finally decided to bathe and call it a day, Dish Network had lost signal completely and the whole thing had to be reset. (I'm talking at least 5 minutes without service). Entire time in bathroom, no noise, no sounds (but for the ones in my head that I can't drown out). I swear I heard cicadas.

I like bottled beer and soda. A few days ago I was offered a canned beer, I turned it down. (What a snobbish and rude thing to do). I like Oscar Mayer bologna. I refuse to eat any other brand or hot dog (knowingly). As I think over it, there are a million things that I refuse to settle for. Lotions, wines, detergents, brands of stupid things.

My thoughts turn to what if I HAD to settle or do without. I'm sure for the longest time, I'd just do without. But at some point, I'm sure I'd have to break down and use regular deodorant (Tom's Apricot, write this down) or (please, for all that is holy) not have satellite TV. 

I saw a poster recently that presented a small, black child saying to a tall, white woman, "So let me get this straight, you have so much water that you shit in it?". It saddened me to think that we take this stuff for granted. How can I worry about stuff like Peter Thomas Roth lotion (Amazon, seriously) and nice hotels (Hilton, get points, better than being royalty), when there are people right this moment whose kids don't have food until Monday's breakfast at school.

Makes me think of the Luckenbach, Texas song  by Waylon Jennings that says, "Let's get back to the basics of love".  Have I become so spoiled that I can't function?I think I've forgotten what a privilege it is to have a healthy family and, really, very little drama (of which I've not brought on myself). 

Someone asked me yesterday what it'd take for me to consider myself a rock star? I'm still tossing that around in my head (and I've heard it twice today). I don't know if you would know if you were a rock star (unless you play the mandolin like ABR or there are groupies waiting outside your overpriced RV with the mirrored ceiling. I mean, when do you feel so complacent with where you are that you stop trying to go further? At what point did Mitt say to Anne, "you know, I think we have enough money. Think I'll stop overtaking companies and rebuilding. Give someone else a shot at the title".

Now that you've seen just an inkling of the ramblings in my head, where do I go with this... (insert, I am on the cusp of something here. It may take awhile but I'll keep you posted)