Just another day in the life of a worker
Special to the Sierra Sun
The 49er’s game is on but I think I’d rather sit on the porch and pick hairs off my fleece jacket.
Watching TV seems like an extremely odd thing to be doing in the Tahoe Basin anyway. There’s just no comparison between the boob tube and the Tahoe National Forest, even if there’s a chance San Francisco can actually get a first down.
I can’t believe my eyes. The Niners just scored their first touchdown in 40 possessions. This is almost as much fun as eating oatmeal. I might just have to pick the hairs off my fleece right here in the living room so I can watch the whole game.
This day has been nothing but a continuous string of wonderful surprises. I drove Brian, a lawyer from Denver, and his four-year-old daughter to the Reno airport at 5:30 am. The wide awake little girl asked me, “Are you a worker?”
Her dad told her he always gets up this early for work and it was his favorite time of day. She said, “Daddy, you know what my favorite time of day is?”
“No, honey, what’s your favorite time of day?”
“Rainbows!” said the little girl, warming our hearts like a pot of gold.
Holy Gold Diggers, there’s touch down number two! They have the lead by 10. The 49er’s are discovering gold in the Arizona desert. They still have time to blow it all in the saloon during the second half though.
Football isn’t the only exciting thing on TV. You can see people beating each other up to be first in line at the department store at four in the morning on Black Friday, or watch moms with babes in arms punch each other to see Santa Claus.
If this is how people shop, and ring in the holidays, I can’t wait to see how they react when the economy collapses, or Al-Qaeda hits us with nukes.
Leapin’ armadillos! San Francisco just beat Arizona in overtime. Who cares about the violent antics of shoppers? Bring on World War III. I’ll make chips and dip and Cindy Sheehan can bring the beer. The ladies in pink coalition, or whatever they call themselves, can be cheerleaders for the terrorists. Dick Cheney and George Bush can root for the Neo-Cons. The ACLU and Bill and Hillary Clinton can be the referees and move the chains. That way the rules will be sure to change every time someone else gets the ball, and the whole shebang can drag on for as long as is humanly possible, depending, of course, on what “is” is. The San Francisco Gay Community, and those charming, porcelain-faced “trans-uptights” who dress themselves as half nun and half clown to receive communion at church, can provide the half time entertainment. It’ll be great family fun.
Of course, World War III is not something anyone wants to see happen, even if it does boost the economy and encourage more shopping. If it levels the playing field, though, so everyone has the same income, all-out war could become quite popular.
I have an idea for those who advocate the redistribution of wealth. Every waiter and waitress, cook, maid, parking attendant, bartender, lift operator, ski instructor, ski patrolman or woman, bus driver, gas station attendant, bellman and front desk clerk in the Tahoe Basin can write his or her name on a sheet of paper and put it in a big jar. Then, every professional athlete, wrestler, all the big Hollywood stars, race car drivers, UC regents and lottery winners can pick a name from the bowl.
Each year they will give 15 percent of their income to the person whose name they draw. How simple is that? The amount would be a drop in the bucket for the football players and movie stars and significantly improve the quality of life for those of us who make the Tahoe experience possible.
I won’t put my name in the bowl. I don’t want to tarnish my worker status with money.
Besides, I don’t shop, and it’s rainbow time.
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