“PORTRAIT OF THE US FEDERAL GOVT.”
it was a bright and sunshiny day, ridiculously hot for Oregon, unseasonably hot for Oregon; and us in a 10 year drought. Wonderful! NO MORE RAIN. It used to rain 10 months out of the year; now we’re lucky if we get enough water during the year for the farmers to grow crops. Talk about “world climate change”; Oregon is one of the biggest examples of it.
Oh well, it doesn’t matter, nature is going to do what it wants, and nobody is going to stop PEOPLE either, so welcome to the new world of world climate change, screwing around with every single state in the US, getting rid of crops, and water supplies, and getting us ready for extinction. Or, at least a lot of starvation and thirst.
I’m glad I’m pretty old, and I refuse to be reincarnated and come back to this dump. God can go screw himself! Sorry for all the nasty God hating epithets. I have to go talk to the online Lubavitcher Hasidic Rebbe, who has his own website, and thinks he has all the answers. It’s fun to argue with him, denigrate his beliefs about death, and give him a bad time. He ought to be able to handle it, he’s a rebbe.he’s got a guaranteed insurance policy from God, so he shouldn’t be afraid to argue with me.anyway….
I just found out from another friend, who has a serious depression illness, and has been going to Lane County mental health Department, for some years, to see a therapist, that he has once again been dumped unceremoniously, by his therapist, without any warning. Or, with little warning. He’s been seriously ill with depression for years, and going there, and I guess this is the second time a therapist there has suddenly dumped him, and not referred him to any other therapist. This is very strange sounding to me.I mean, no wonder he’s depressed!
I talked to him recently on the phone; “I don’t understand,” I asked him, “how can they just dump you like that? Are you paying them something?” “Yes, I’m just giving them Medicare,” he said. “So isn’t that supposed to cover it?” “Yes, but that department of Lane County, mental health, has been getting flakier and more irresponsible, as the years went by. Well, maybe they were from the beginning. They were always NICE and caring, but I guess it didn’t go far enough. They weren’t nice and caring enough to refer me to someone else, before they dumped me.”
“yes, but if you’re paying them at least Medicare,” I said, “isn’t that some kind of fraud? Or, isn’t it some kind of NEGLECT or ABUSE of patients?” “You’ve been listening to Obama too much, honey,” he remarked, ironically “Obama says that he’s going to fix Medicare fraud, or misuse of funds,; but anyhow, he just took $700 billion out of Medicare providers, so you can’t find any MEDICAL PEOPLE to accept Medicare! They don’t get paid anything anymore!” I thought about that for a minute.
“So, is Obama himself some kind of Medicare abuse? In a way?” I said finally. “Ha ha ha, that’s a good one!” My friend laughed too hard “you got it right on the head!”
But then I reflected “but since he’s the president, isn’t it impossible for him to do fraud or abuse to Medicare! I mean, after all he’s the CAPT. of the SHIP of STATE! He must know what he’s doing, steering us through the stormy seas of economic disaster! Let’s face it, he’s the captain! Isn’t he? “Oh, Capt.! my Capt.!” Like the poem?”
“it’s more accurate to say that he’s the captain of the Titanic, and doesn’t know the hell what he’s doing while the ship goes down,” returned my friend, gloomily. “And he doesn’t have to go down with the ship, like everybody else, if he doesn’t want to; he can always disguise himself as a WOMAN, and sneak onto one of the lifeboats.”he continued, “besides, he doesn’t OWN the ship! All he did was crash it and sink it!”
I realized why my friend was making that allusion to “disguise himself as a woman”, but I ignored it. That was probably just a rumor, after all the guy had a wife and several kids. So how could he be? Forget it. “So what are you going to do about getting a therapist?” I finally asked my friend. “I’m going to try and find somebody outside of the mental health department, a private practitioner, that takes Medicare”, he replied.
“Happy hunting! Play hell trying to pay for or get somebody to take government insurance who’s a shrink! The last people on earth who want to take Medicare, are SHRINKS. Or, any government medical insurance at all.”he sighed loudly. “I know, I know, I’ve thought of just going to Alcoholics Anonymous, for the therapy, but I don’t have a drinking problem. However, maybe the 12 step program would work on me, rather than another shrink. At least it’s free. That I can afford.”
“Maybe you could develop a drinking problem, so you could go there; and I hear that a lot of alcoholics get their condition treated as a DISABILITY, so you might be able to get some therapy if you became an alcoholic! Alcoholics have an addiction, so they are entitled to disability and therapy for it!all the medical and government community, treats alcohol addiction before anything else, so if you’re only screwed up mentally, with PTSD, and depression, it would be a lot more practical to be, a PRACTICING ALCOHOLIC, and you could finally get some God damn treatment. I would seriously consider doing that.”.
he considered that for a moment; “you know, you really have a point there. They don’t consider me really ill, unless I’ve got a serious addiction; it would be better than trying to become a DRUG ADDICT, because the tell the truth, if I tried that, I might like it too much to quit. It’s supposed to be an excellent escape vehicle. Ha ha Ha.”
“You know, “cocaine, cocaine/running around/my brain!” No, I guess I better try being an alcoholic, some of those drugs, like ecstasy? Ecstasy is really supposed to be ECSTASY; what idiot in his right mind WOULD WANT TO STOP DOING that? So what if you get sick afterwords? That’s a little teeny bit to pay for a trip to ECSTASY.I mean, all I do is get depressed, now, and get panic attacks, migraines, why the hell didn’t I consider going the really great way, and getting addicted to drugs? At least it would be fun for a while before I had to get off!”he hesitated; “and maybe I’d decide NOT to get off them!”
our little talk was making things worse, it seemed.we had gone from trying to find him a new therapist, to entering the possibility of becoming a drug addict, just so he could get therapy. And, maybe not quitting the drug, because, quite frankly, there are REAL REASONS why people nowadays get addicted; the world out there is pretty nasty, cold, isolated, and hard to survive. Not only that, if you start out badly in life with a cold, nasty, abusive family, the world is going to look even worse to you, like “days of Wine and roses” – nasty and ugly.
But we have gotten off the subject of “how to get the stupid government or social services to help him get a therapist;” still, the idea of becoming an alcoholic and getting a better chance of getting therapy for it, was still the best idea.
There was no way to refute the fact that, people who have serious drug or alcohol addictions, get first choice about getting support and therapy for it. After all, it’s “AA, Alcoholics Anonymous,” not “PTSDA, PTSD survivors anonymous”.
and also “AlANON” or “narc anon” narcotics anonymous, support groups.”
SHEESH! Why the hell isn’t there a “Seriously– Fucked– Up– Mentally– anonymous” support groups and serious official government and social services supported therapy programs?is it because we take alcoholics so seriously?
I mean, they really get in your way, throw up all over,crash their cars into you, ruin families, abuse their kids and wife, drink during work hours, and pour more money into alcohol industry, then the biggest company Christmas parties! you have to take somebody seriously, who creates all that harm and mayhem! gets all that public attention! Gets all that physical harm, DTs, liver damage, repetitive rehab, and dramatic public protestations of WHOOPIE in bars, business conventions,football games, alumni celebrations, , and company client-dinners on the company charge-card.
I mean, those alcoholics really have it made! They get more attention, and concern, and do more harm, to themselves and everybody else, and make a bigger impression on the health industry and the government and the car industry, not to mention all the angry mothers, then any poor little depressed character with PTSD!
and as far as alcoholics and cars, I guess Toyota, Cadillac, motor city, the Ford company, and Mercedes-Benz could just about cleanup with the amount of alcoholic auto crashes and murders that they cause! Those alcoholics are really IMPORTANT PEOPLE.no wonder they get all that therapy and support! Talk about blackmail! If you don’t give them therapy and support, they just keep on drinking, and keep on clobbering the world around them!
And I haven’t even considered how serious drug addicts, elicit government and medical support, to get them the hell off of drugs! Think about what drug addicts actually do; they steal your money, they burglarize you, they mug you, they steal your car, they break into your house or apartment, and murder you for the jewelry you wear! Any harmful thing they can think of to get money for drugs!
Boy, if you didn’t give these guys therapy and support and programs, they probably kill you all off while they are out having a good time, on drugs!but what can a bunch of seriously depressed people with PTSD do to you? Not much.
They’re not going to run cars into you, run over your kids, breaking into your apartment and steal everything, or go around breaking into liquor stores, swiping every whiskey bottle you have!
let’s face it, mentally ill people are just not THREATENING and HARMFUL enough! They just don’t put up a MENACING and seriously DANGEROUS threat to society! All they do is go out and become homeless, and run out of food.or, if they’re horribly clinically depressed, they actually KILL THEMSELVES, and NOT you, or your FAMILY!
The only people they hurt are THEMSELVES.of course, we get the occasional “Columbine group” or the “technical college – crazy – shoot them up”, but nobody takes them seriously enough to think that the reason they’re doing it, is, they are really CRAZY and HARMFUL.
so, people still throw all that money and treatment and support, at alcoholics and drug addicts, and keep ignoring the fact that some really bad off looney, could do the same thing; go out and get a colt 45, or sawed-off shotgun, or just a very sharp knife, and be just as harmful and dangerous as any bad alcoholic behind a car or a stupid drug addict.
however all those alcoholics and drug addicts, usually are EMPLOYED or WORKING PEOPLE, and they could be you or me, still hold down a job, and be as polluted or drugged – out as anything.WORKING PEOPLE who drink like crazy, and drug like nuts, often still hold down a job well they’re doing it. They are PART of WORKING SOCIETY, and not worthless riffraff mentally ill. HAH!
I think that is it. Maybe that’s why the Alkies and the druggies get so much respect! Plus, when you stop and think of it, they are buying all those DRUGS, and ALCOHOL, and they are supporting industry!Ho boy. And mentally ill people were depressed, or have PTSD, are just sitting at home only supporting PFIZER and nothing more.
“I think you’re correct,” I finally said to my friend, after thinking about all this;” I think you could probably develop a pretty good alcoholic habit, if you really tried. Is there any type of alcohol or liquor you’re especially fond of?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever tried Cognac, or Armagnac, which are supposed to be pretty good. And I haven’t had much brandy. You know, the really classy stuff. I suppose I could develop a thing for those cute little fluffy drinks, with little umbrellas, and that Brazilian mixed drink, what is it? I can’t pronounce it it starts with a “c”, and it’s made with white rum made from cane sugar. It kind of sounds yummy; they crush fresh lime into sugar and ice, and get it really flavorful, and then they add that white rum. Lots of ice; cold and intoxicating. Even expert food people, seem to like them, I read about it.”
“you keep drinking those, and you really either get really happy, or you wind up in AA, still very happy because it hasn’t worn off yet. They’re supposed to be absolutely DELICIOUS. Enough to make me want to go to Brazil right now!” The noise over the phone, sounded like my friend seriously packing, grabbing clothes, etc.; was he seriously considering the trip? Did he even know Spanish or Portuguese?
“Hey,” I yelled into the telephone, hoping to get his ear still, before he left “what are you doing? Are you sure you have enough money to go to Brazil?” He whispered into the telephone, happily” don’t worry, I have a relative, I can steal a lot of money from, before I go, and they’ll never miss it. They think I’m a very nice polite depressed and honest person who would never do anything like that.
“But once I become a serious alcoholic, all that goes out the window. I mean, after all, I would be an ADDICT, you know? Not responsible for what I do?because I’m strung out on booze, or drugs? And I’m not responsible for that? It’s a disease! And I intend to enjoy it first, before I have to give it up!” He chuckled, wildly, and I had a feeling he actually was going to go to Brazil, because the drinks sounded very good, and the weather, even the prices were better; and I guess that white rum made from sugarcane was getting intriguing. It sure sounded a lot better than being DEPRESSED and ANXIOUS, and supporting ass-hole Pfizer.
And when he came back, he could get into real society, and support Jim Beam instead..or, wild turkey. What ever. The legitimate stuff. The important stuff.
“hey,” were his closing lines over the phone, “don’t worry, I’ll send you a postcard, maybe a lot of postcards! I’ll keep in touch!” “Okay, just be careful, watch out for those airline security lines, and all those creepy people who get paid to feel you up, and ruin your luggage, and refuse to let you go through with a nail clipper or your prescription medication – or even a little makeup. I hate those people; I hate that stupid superduper x-ray machine, that probably gives you eventual cancer.” I didn’t want to explain further, that was why I took the Amtrak everywhere.
He promised to contact me as soon as he nestled down in Brazil, found a nice hotel, that didn’t make him sick with the food or water, and started slurping up that white rum. It kind of made me thirsty just thinking about it.or maybe it was just the idea of liquid sugar cane. And then he was gone, out the door.
Well, at least we had him on the right track; when he came back, eventually he could go to some kind of rehab, instead of getting dumped around by some sleazy mental health Department,and his alcoholism would be treated seriously as a hazard to society and everybody around him – unlike stupid, moronic, and smalltime depression or mental illness. You know, those pathetic people. And the way they get treated, like pathetic.
When dealing with bureaucracy,the health industry, societies support system, and what game to play, it was good to finally know the rules, and follow them. Don’t have the wrong affliction; figure out which one gets you the most support, therapy, attention, and is a important threat to society. He could always be depressed later, when he was in rehab, and getting off all that wonderful white rum!
I thought about it seriously, as I nursed my coffee; was there anyway I could introduce coffee as a serious addictive, dangerous and threatening to society beverage? Any way? Could we say that espresso was dangerous, and could get you so hyped up, you ran your car over your neighbors kids? Did anybody ever get that caffeinated? Maybe I should go to Starbucks, and ask them; “just how caffeinated do your most serious coffee drinkers and espresso drinkers get? Are they a serious threat to society, and to industry, and do they get really NUTS and run you over with a car?does it ever lead to COCAINE sniffing? Or does it just stay with “chocolate espresso bean” – chomping?”
I mean, CHOCOLATE could be looked at, as a really disastrous addictive substance! People really got hooked on that! Unfortunately, they didn’t get threatening, they just got really happy, AND FAT.there was no “chocolate eaters anonymous”, but there sure should be! It would be so great, to get off a major bender, and going to rehab, so happy and so chocolate–ated!
(Sincerely, and most chocolatey, your most addictive and pleasant Sandraminadotty in Eugene, Oregon, the new Arizona of the Pacific Northwest) 🙂
it was another hot and sultry, damp, sticky, Eugene Oregon July day;my eyes were red, irritated,and itchy,from the smog, but Carol called up, and was coming over. I was sitting there, trying to watch TV (that is another story later on,) she had her saved up plastic bags (it is ILLEGAL here for any stores, both grocery and otherwise, to use plastic bags in Lane County, you have to bring your own, “like Europe!” Or, they will sell you large paper bag for five cents apiece; this County and city of Eugene thinks that it is the United States government and can force you to do anything and you have to do it)and Carol said to me, “ready to go grocery shopping?” I said, “I’m out of food what you think?” And we were off and driving.
however, right away I noticed “hey Carol, this is not the way to the Win-Co supermarket; where are you going? Are you going to discount food outlets first?” I asked. “No, she said happily, “I have heard that the Eugene farmers market, is a good place to buy really good produce. It might really help me diet – better.” “Then I hope you brought your life savings with you in a debit card,” I answered.
“What you mean by that?” Said Carol. I once again replied “you haven’t ever been to that market have you, the one downtown, this kind of in the city center of Eugene?” “No, I haven’t.” “So you don’t know what they sell there?” I asked with trepidation. “They said, lots of healthy fresh fruit and produce,” she said “I got it from good authority”. I started laughing really hysterically, and she looked at me funny. “Your friends are playing a really cute trick on you,” I finally said trying to stop laughing and joking instead. “All the food at the farmers market is – – “
Carol almost wrecked the car, she gasped and put the brake on, and managed to come over to one side of the road. “Oh my gosh, you don’t mean it! Uh, okay, should we go and look at the organic food?” I decided to let her learn from experience “okay, let’s go have a lot of fun” I said, while I secretly said to myself “but you won’t be buying any food”.
when we got downtown, to the farmers market of course it took us more than an hour to find some kind of parking. When I say “some kind of parking,” I meant “some parking garage, or parking lot commercial, or areas with parking meters”. Fortunately, a lot of people didn’t go downtown anymore, so we finally found a parking space after an hour and a half. But we had to buy a gallon of gas first, to stay there. “this is getting expensive already,” said Carol.”hey, watch out for that meth head, you’re going to trip over him!” “OOPS!”
Sure enough, when we got there, the crowd looked pretty much like a celebrity set out of Vogue magazine or Harper’s Bazaar; I had never seen so many designer purses, designer shoes,designer jeans, designer sunglasses, and mainly, designer FOOD, in my entire life outside of Beverly Hills. Carol looked a little suspicious, and said “say, are those Mercedes-Benz over there, and that’s a Prius over in the corner? Are we in the right place? This is supposed to be a farmers market? Are you sure we didn’t park in Tiffany’s jewelry store parking lot?” “in Eugene Oregon,” I replied, “same thing.”
I decided to let Carol get the lay of the land, because she wanted to find zucchini. “Hey, here’s zucchini over here,” I said, and Carol accidentally saw the price per pound, and almost dropped her purse. “I don’t believe that. “She said. “Oh you can believe that,” I said, “why do you think I go to horrible old agribusiness supermarkets to buy my produce? I have to save my money for diamonds.”
Carol hesitantly went around to all the different booths, all the wonderful lettuce,spinach, tomatoes, green beans, melon (? Melon? In Oregon, melon? “Grow – light – Melon”) squash, wonderful fruits of all types. They looked a little different than the supermarket, when the cashier put your produce in a paper bag, he tied up the bag with gold rubber bands; however, if you are a cheapskate, like Carol and me,and were only buying one small apple for five dollars, he just used silver. And, he frowned at us, “are you guys tourists?” “No,” I replied, “in fact, we’re natives, we just can’t afford to live here.”
we prowled all over the farmers market, pinching all the tomatoes, (noticing that Chanel perfume sometimes oozed out) and trying to find out if there were any “boutique farms” that actually sold real food that the NATIVES here could afford to buy. “Maybe we should settle for one tomato each,” said Carol finally standing in the sun and looking around at the whole site.”only,” I replied, poking the alabaster squash, “if you’ve got a platinum credit card?”
People were cheerfully walking around, standing around under Mark Jacobs sun umbrellas, smiling cheerfully, meeting their friends, and comparing their PERS retirement benefits and wonderful things like that.there were even out of state University of Oregon students, from Palm Beach. – slumming.gosh, we were so fortunate!
I noticed that the governor was here, because he was somebody who actually could afford to BUY something.”I really don’t like him,” said Carol, glaring. “I mean, Oregon has the death penalty, and when he gets into office, SUDDENLY Oregon doesn’t have the death penalty!” “well,” I replied reluctantly, “you know how the Oregon government is, and the legislature; if not like we actually LIVE IN the United States!”
Carol nodded, gloomily”I sometimes wonder about that,” she replied pessimistically; “I think Oregon actually is situated in Saudi Arabia, and the Saudis tell us what to do, and we just IMAGINE we’re in the US.” “Pretty much the size of it, I mean,after all,THAT could explain a few things.
“How the Muslim brotherhood is beloved here; how all those women wear those large scarves over their heads (and they’re not even Muslims!); “Sharia” is not in the “foreign religions” department at the University of Oregon, it’s in the HOME ECONOMICS DEPARTMENT.” Carol nodded. “And that explains why, when we have a local election, all the results are tabulated BEFORE the election, not AFTER.”
we looked at each other with questions; “yes, and that could explain a lot of the media here, like the newspapers; you notice that the editor has no idea what a REPUBLICAN or CONSERVATIVE is? He thinks we’re talking about SYNAGOGUE DENOMINATIONS? Like,REFORM or something?” “Yes, and the other day I found out the newspaper editor thinks that “the Communist agenda” is a roundtable discussion on 1960s COMMUNES.”
“I’ll tell you one thing”, I said, looking at my bag full of one Apple,”I was never so flabbergasted, when I found out the local newspaper thinks that ” Fox news” is a regular newsletter, from Britain, keeping track of all the Royal FOX HUNTS!” “I thought that foxhunts were illegal there?” “yes, they are illegal there, fox hunts has become very LEGAL over here.”
the day was wearing on; we were getting hungry, we needed to go where there was actually REAL FOOD. Enough of this strolling around, pricing the emeralds, rubies, diamonds, and uranium! “You know, I think I’d really hate to try and go fishing here again, can you imagine what FISHING WORMS would cost?” “Why would they cost so much?” “Well, the taxes on everything have gone up, here and everything else that has never been taxed, before is now taxed here; so I found out the other day, I can’t afford to buy FISHING WORMS anymore, because they’re getting them out of ORGANIC GARDENS, and you get taxed so much per worm. Ouch.” (“say,” have they gotten the BICYCLE LICENSE TAX initiated yet?” “oh shit, that’s why my kid doesn’t go bicycle riding anymore!”)
On the way over to Win-Co,I decided to tell Carol the rest of the bad news I just heard; “the organic farming community and activist groups, have decided to try and make it ILLlegal for anything to be grown in this county or city, unless it is ORGANIC COMPLETELY. ONLY ORGANIC FARMING.” ” Gee, do we get to vote on that?” I replied,”, yes, we do, and we’ve already voted in ONLY ORGANIC FARMING in the Willamette Valley!” We both laughed hysterically, and I decided that I did like Mexican grapes after all.”who’s going to break it to all those other farmers, who don’t do organic farming?” Carol asked, hesitantly. “Oh, you mean those people who USED TO live here,?” I giggled, and we both started laughing hysterically out-of-control again and almost went off the road.
“I know another famous person, who would be so fond of Oregon now,” I chuckled, as we drove into the Eugene Win-Co parking lot; “you feel right at home.” “Oh, I can’t possibly imagine. Leon Trotsky?” “No you’re off by a mile, LENIN.” we laughed again uproariously, getting out, and looking for a shopping cart; “MAO-TZE-TUNG!!!” HAW HAW HAW!
“No, I can one up you; STALIN!” HA HAW HAW! “no, I’m sure it would be LENIN, because of his AGRICULTURAL THEORIES!” HAW HAW HA! “Oh, you mean that funny little cold country that we have to send all that UNITED STATES GRAIN to, every year?” “you got it!”HA HA HA!!
“I have a better idea,” I giggled, as we looked over in the produce section, “let’s give them billions of dollars, and don’t tell them, they have to buy OUR ORGANIC PRODUCE with it!” “Wouldn’t that be a miserable trick? Instead of paying our senior citizens coupons to get them to buy the stuff? Or, force everybody who goes on food stamps,– – get this– – to only buy ORGANIC FOOD!” ha ha ha ha ha ha!” Oh what a mean trick you are bad! What you want to put everybody on a starvation diet for God sakes,?!” Ha ha ha ha. “Hey, it would work better than Weight Watchers!”
By the time we got our “nasty horrible disgusting agribusiness food”with our carts, up to the checkout desk, we were feeling really good; the clerk looked at us and smiled and said “why you guys feeling so good today? You broke the bank or something or Robbed it?you play mean practical jokes?”
We both looked at him, snickering; “no, we did something much more ridiculous than that; we just went to the Eugene “organic FARMERS MARKET! Before we came here!” He started giggling too, “hey, how many gold potatoes did you buy? Ha ha ha”, and we really brightened up his day,, and the rest of the poor people in line, buying instant mashed potatoes in boxes.we left everybody smiling. 🙂
Eugene, Oregon may be insane, it may be SAUDIA ARABIA, MAINLAND-CHINA, or The Land of AWWWWWS, or maybe not even IN THE UNITED STATES, but it’ll make you DIE LAUGHING; especially if you buy the organic stuff. You’ll just DIE!! HEEE HEEE But don’t make the mistake of taking it seriously. Its the Las Vegas of the Pacific Northwest.(chortle) Including the clowns! 😉
. Maria and I, were on our errand of mercy in our neighborhood; a very old and slightly unstable lady, who lived alone, in our neighborhood, needed help once again, and we had donned our white facemasks, to keep out the extreme pollen,, city smog, flying ragweed, and other assorted delights of summer. Everywhere we went, it was the same picture everybody was wearing their white facemasks covering the nose and mouth, trying to keep out the natural and very unnatural pollution of our brilliant summer months.
Our friend of the neighborhood, Matilda, lived alone, and was in her 60s or 70s; supposedly she had the services of “senior and disabled of Lane County,” because she was on disability or Social Security, and didn’t have much of an income. She didn’t have much of a apartment either; we came up the walk way, which was littered with garbage bags, and cat litter boxes, knocked on her door, and she let us in. “Watch out for the pellets,” she said, she had just bought her cat A pet rabbit. (??) “What could I do, she was getting lonely!” said Matilda sadly.
I knew that Matilda was rather crippled up with returning polio, and bad arthritis, and she had an electric wheelchair. Her cat was sleeping in it. We could barely get into the room, the small living room, because there were large boxes everywhere, empty, and lots of paper bags and old leftover plastic bags. Her meal was still on her tray, and I asked her “hasn’t your homecare worker come over to wash dishes yet, or anything?” “No, she replied “the Fourth of July holiday is near , and she only does one room at a time. The back room got it, the huge closet, because it was full of bags of used kitty litter. That had to go out.” That explained all the garbage bags in the front, on the lawn. (What was left of the lawn.)
I looked out the window, but all I could see was all the dirt covering over the window. The curtains didn’t look too great either. None of it did. “how can you stand to live in this,?” Maria asked her, as we started to get our garbage bags out, to clean everything up, and our Lysol and bleach, lots of sponges, and started using the mop and sponges on the bathroom. the bathroom looked and smelled like it hadn’t been cleaned in a YEAR. The shower stall on the flooring was absolutely BLACK. Either it was dirt or mold. It was a good thing both Maria and I were wearing face masks, otherwise the stench would’ve killed us.
the big garbage can in the tiny kitchen,was filled to overflowing; Maria and I had our work cut out for us. It took several hours, actually about a half a day, more like four or five hours, and we had made some headway, and the bathroom no longer stank so badly.I haven’t worked this hard since I had been a surveyor for the state, working out on the highways, and worked alongside men.
we were sweating profusely, and Matilda gave us two glasses of water with ice in them. All three of us sat down, in her tiny living room, and Maria and I both looked at each other.” Haven’t you tried to get a new house care worker from senior and disabled?” I said to Matilda.”oh yes,” she replied, “I’ve done that several times, in fact this is about the –” she started counting on her fingers. – “This is the 20th homecare worker I have had with senior and disabled.” Maria and I were flabbergasted; “why have you had so many?” Maria asked, puzzled.
“often when I ask them to do housework,” said Matilda sadly, “they either ignore me, only do a little, or else they just quit. I’ve heard they make more off getting unemployment anyway, then they do this work.” There was a silence. “In fact,” continued Matilda, “one of them finally told me, a really nice lady, that a lot of the homecare workers for senior and disabled, deliberately force their clients to fire them, by not showing up, or not doing the work, so they can collect unemployment.”
“What do they get paid for doing this work?” Asked Maria.”they used to get paid $10 an hour, but now I think they only get nine dollars an hour, and sometimes they have to work some hours for free. It’s just how the senior and disabled works it out.so they figure that getting unemployment, is a lot better than working at this, even though this is the only work they can get.they get home care workers who can’t do anything else for a living.”
Matilda continue to tell us, she had had one homecare worker, a lady with five children and no husband, who had been rumored to be selling methamphetamines out of her apartment. (She found this out later.)
“I don’t understand,” said I, irritated. “Don’t they screen these people?””I don’t know,” said Matilda, “some of my friends have complained to senior and disabled about this, but nothing ever happens. I know other seniors and disabled people who are even in worse straits. homecare workers steal, show up for work drunk, don’t show, and even tried to get extra money out of old or disabled people, because the clients are in a vulnerable position.” Maria and I were horrified.
However, I had heard stuff like this coming out of the social services departments of this County and the city of Eugene.Matilda also was supposed to have some kind of therapist (she had mild schizophrenia) with Lane County mental health, but that never worked out either; the therapist tried to palm her off on another agency, stop making appointments, and never got in contact or got her another therapist. I had also heard rumors about Lane County mental health like this also.
Not the first time. “Why don’t you get a hold of your doctor over at peace health?” Maria said, sipping her water. Matilda just put up her hands, as if in surrender, and continued “my medical doctor doesn’t have anything to do with this, the different departments don’t talk to each other.” She said.” I don’t think any of them do!” “but you must have a worker over at senior and disabled!” “Oh, yes I think I have a new one, but I can’t ever get a hold of her, or him. I’ve never met them.”
This was sounding more and more bizarre, but not for the city of Eugene, and this County. we decided to stop asking Matilda anymore questions, about senior and disabled, or the mental health department, because it was getting us nowhere; in a different state, I had run into the same thing with the social services, of the city or county because they were whats known as,BUREAUCRACIES.
BUREAUCRACIES have lots of little separate departments, all disconnected from each other, getting County and city and state and even federal money, and that’s all they care about. As long as they keep getting their paychecks, and the departments keep getting money,they keep on rolling along, even though the actual WORK they do, does not function or ever get done, even if the clients or patients don’t get helped, or actually get harmed.
In fact, I remembered that I had complained about those bureaucracies, before, many many complaints, and all kinds of forms, letters, e-mails, phone messages, and nothing ever changed. BUREAUCRACIES are shielded from complaints. They are shielded from IMPROVEMENT, and unless someone dies, or there is a horrible disaster, and it’s made very public, in the news nobody ever knows about it. Probably nobody knew about this.
well, Maria and I had done our good deeds,and Maria decided to let her church know about this, so some of the other members could come over, and help out also. Maria belonged to a really nice Baptist Church, on the other side of town, and its members were very charitable and helpful to the community. And they didn’t get paid for it.
“what should we do About the Lane County mental health Department,?” Said Maria to me, later. “Matilda has slight schizophrenia, and I’m worried about her not having any therapist, and not even her medical doctor knowing. I don’t understand any of this; don’t they have psychiatrists over at Lane County mental health Department? Don’t they handle any of this?” “When have you ever known a psychiatrist to actually handle anything, instead of just telling people to solve their own problems?” I answered sarcastically.I decided that Matilda was better off, with that department, NOT having a therapist!
What she would do about her medication, I had no idea, and I was getting really tired of Matilda’s friends having to worry, and do the social services work, That Lane County mental health, and senior and disabled of Lane County was supposed to be doing. Not to mention, now a lot of church members were going to get involved, and probably have to take over the entire thing.
I sighed. That was the thing about BUREAUCRACIES; nobody had to take any responsibility in any of them, they just kept passing it on to someone else, another department, and all the departments ignored each other! It sounded like Russia and the Communist socialized government they had! And we all know what happened to them; at some point, they completely CRASHED.
WHEN this state, and county, and city of Eugene also, would get to that point, I had no idea. They were probably already there. It just was not very publicly known. I suppose that lots of other churches and synagogues,were pitching in, trying to fill all the very huge cracks, and having a tough time.
BUREAUCRACIES have a very good excuse for not functioning; “we don’t have enough money! GIVE US MORE MONEY!”
in fact, that’s exactly what this County and the city of Eugene carped about all the time; “there are no schools, because you don’t give us enough money! All of the social services don’t function, because, YOU don’t give us enough TAXES! We need more TAXES! TAXES! MORE TAXES!”
even the police department complained, “we can’t keep people in jail, you don’t give us enough TAXES!” however,”more taxes” all the time, had not kept that girl, who was supposed to be monitored by social services here, recently, from being murdered and starved to death by her mother. They had a ready excuse, “Gee, we didn’t know, we don’t have enough workers, we don’t have enough money! Why don’t you give us more TAXES?”
Okay, then are you going to be able to function? “We really don’t know, why don’t you give us more money and find out?”the voters had already done that for Lane County, in the city of Eugene, and it had made no difference in the functioning of the different departments and in social services.
The real problems were, that in the departments, lots of cronyism,non-efficiency, non-work, laziness, complete disorganization, and the lack of any need to actually perform their duties, led to this situation.
They kept getting paid, so they don’t have to do anything! It’s not like private business out there, you don’t have to perform your job to keep it; in fact, it’s even better, if you don’t make any waves, sit there and pretend to do something in a bureaucracy,nobody ever fires you. Nobody ever asks you to do more work, you already” look BUSY”.
that probably accounted for the fact that, unless you actually were actively murdering somebody with a gun, the Police Department and the sheriffs department that you called, never came out, never responded, and never put anybody in jail (the excuse, as usual was that, “you don’t give us enough money for jail! MORE JAIL MONEY!”)
(if you give the sheriff’s department men more money, what do they do with it? They just use their firearms, while they load or clean them, to shoot themselves in the foot, or in the hand. That was hilarious! Ever since I found out about that, I had to realize, there was somebody in the county who was a lot worse at handling firearms than I was; the guys in the sheriff’s department.
finally,Maria and I parted ways, promising to check up on Matilda again soon, and make sure that her food didn’t end up in the cat’s litter box, or the litter box didn’t wind up in her food. (That had actually happened once, fortunately she didn’t die from it; I’m not sure about the cat.)
on my way home,I noticed some newly moved in “rich hippies”, who, from the stickers on their monster Mercedes-Benz car, had just moved here from California, and were busily buying extremely expensive ORGANIC GROCERIES, from one of the cute little boutique “organic farmers markets” that sold fruits and vegetables to “very rich liberal hippies who moved here from California”, and thought that the city of Eugene was so “CUTE!”– – And “GREEN, sustainable, socially responsible” etc. etc.,
(and do I have to tell you more of what it’s become like here, since all the “liberal rich hippies” have moved here, buy very expensive organic food, wear very expensive designer “hippie bohemian” clothing(organic cotton, no synthetic fabrics, NAUGHTY, NAUGHTY!”) smoke and take very expensive and exclusive marijuana, cocaine, and other wonderful almost illegal drugs,and pretend that, despite the SMOG overlying the Valley constantly,and the 10 year drought that Oregon and this Valley was suffering from, that gardening was WONDERFUL here, it was easy to grow food or flowers, and it was just “rainbows and springtime!” – – In Eugene and the County of Lane.
I had to chuckle, and kept on walking; all these wonderful, newly moved” liberal rich hippies” who bought very expensive organic food, and sneered at polyester, never had worked as a homecare worker, in Oregon, for nine dollars an hour, and had to eat real food. Real food that was becoming, although it was “agribusiness grown,” was becoming increasingly expensive to buy, if you made nine dollars an hour.
what were they doing, to help the situation? Well, they did demand that everybody PAY MORE TAXES. They did do that. They thought we were all rich, like they were.or else, they just didn’t give a shit.the latter was a lot more likely. I decided if there was any way, I could take any kind of tax write off, for any charity, I was going to do that this year, rather than go out and buy any “organic tomatoes”, or “organic apples” at that cute little boutique “organic supermarket” advertised in the newspaper.
I would just give the money to the Seventh-day Adventist church in Eugene, or the Baptist Church, or any of the churches that did all the charity work, fed people, helped people, and generally tried to fill all the very big holes left by our infinitely wonderful County social services department, and mental health departments in the city of Eugene, the mayor, and most of all, the wonderful government of the city of Eugene.
actually, I don’t like organic food very much. And I don’t plan to. A tomato, is a tomato, is a tomato, is a tomato. and I’m still thankful I can afford them at all.
(Sandraminadotty, in, Eugene, Oregon, and Lane County, Western Oregon, saying to every one of you “don’t eat organic food! Take the extra money, and give it to your favorite church, or synagogue, it’s JUST a tomato!.”) 😉