The hordes of so-called “protesters” now polluting the streets of several U.S. cities, including New York, are sending confused messages about their grievances.
The unemployed among them complain that the jobs available to them are beneath them. I guess that cancels out the old concept of starting in the mailroom and advancing step-by-step to the boardroom. It used to be the norm that one started at the bottom and worked his way up. This bunch seems to be living under the delusion that simply by virtue of having been born they are entitled to immediate arrival at the boardroom level with appropriate compensation.
Viewing these unruly mob scenes, featuring numerous public sexual activities posing as protests, I am reminded of the manner in which my dad dealt with such malcontents. If they were government employees he simply fired them. It worked. The remaining ones slinked back to work.
And I recall how he dealt with his son (me) back in 1965, when I dropped out of Arizona State University and thought that I was simply going home to live with — and off — either my mom or dad, who were then divorced. When I got home I found that their doors were locked to college dropouts.
Nancy, my ever-loving stepmom, was busy calling all branches of the military to let them know I was a college dropout and thus now eligible to be drafted. Don’t you just love such devoted stepmothers, eager to help their stepsons make their way in the world by locking the doors to keep them out?
When I finally was able to speak to my parents, they simply told me to find another place to live and to get a job. I did both. I moved in with some friends and got a job working at Asbury Transportation Company in Los Angeles loading oil-well freight from 5:00 p.m. to 1:30 a.m., Monday through Friday. That’s where I was working when my father was elected governor of California.
Did I complain that my lowly job was beneath my new station in life as the son of the governor of California? How could I? I was the one who set that bar low when I dropped out of college. So, to all you spoiled brats marching and wanting better pay or bigger allowances: take a good, long look in the mirror, not at Wall Street, and if you want to blame something blame ObamaCare! Your employers or parents have to spend the money you might have received in raises to pay for that socialist monstrosity.
I am still amazed that these kids can find time to congregate in city streets, which are in many cases far from their hometowns. Somebody has to be paying their way; in most cases their beleaguered parents are stuck with the bill for their latest adventure, which has nothing to do with education and a lot to do with left-wing politics and public lovemaking.
And the media willingly — indeed, eagerly — give the protesters lots of free publicity. Media outlets should start ignoring them, and we’ll see how fast they disband and slink back home. They thrive on the publicity the media provide.
Finally, the long-suffering parents ought to close their pockets and deny their wayward brats the money that allows them to travel to the big city to make pests of themselves.
Go home. Now. But before you do, clean up the messes you have made.