The Whittiling of America

            Welcome back, My Dear Readers, to ‘The Whittling  of America’ here @ The Other Shoe. Have you ever watched a man whittle a piece of wood into something of wonder and joy? As a young boy I used to watch my maternal grandfather whittle away at anything he could put his hands on. It keep his hands busy and his mind off of drink. When I got older, he taught me how to whittle, too.

.

He started out with knife safety, teaching you whittle the wood and not your fingers. Well, I was never that coordinated, at least as a boy. So my first few attempts turned out items colored red. I got better, over time, but even as a young boy watching whittling, I wondered… 'What happens to what is left?'

.

Being curious, and outspoken, one day I asked my grandfather; “What happens to what you whittle away, what’s on the floor” He laughed and told me “That part don’t matter much, it’s not part of the design… you just toss it aside and forget it… don’t pay that no nevermind.”

.

That didn’t sit well with me, because, don’t you see, that even as a small boy I saw that as wasteful As such, not being wasteful that could not be abided for by me. So when I would finish whittling I would take the scraps off the floor and I would use them for litter for the animal I had, or I would use them with little clue to make something out of them all on their own. But I just couldn’t let those wood scraps on the floor go wasted I had to put them to better use.

 

My Dear Readers, right now we’re watching the whittling of America. Let me take a moment and tried to explain. What I see in America disturbs me greatly more than even I can put into words (and that, My Dear Readers is QUITE A FEAT). I see this happening now, I can’t take the 'whittling away' at the very core of our country. I see it every day. We all know America ,right now, is only haves and have not’s. The great thing is most thet can read, write and speak ARE ‘haves’.

.

You, My Dear Readers, I am willing to bet, are mostly made up of people that have and do not live hand-to-mouth. For a majority of my life I was a have. I had a good job, I made a living wage, I bought a new car, and I had fine clothes. Then one day I was struck by a physical malady that knocked me off my feet. Unfortunately, for me, I really haven’t been able to get up again but... that’s my cross to bear.

.

Let me give you an example, that I know everyone can see, and everyone in America right now, believe it or not, is taking part in. Let me say it in one word, Walmart. Walmart started out, when I was a just a glimmer in my father's eye, as Waltons. Guess I dated myself there, some. When I was born; Ike was President and there were just 48 states to this great Union of ours. Walton's store was a very much like a T.G.& Y. My mother, God rest her soul, would never set foot in a Walton’s store.

. 

And let me tell you why. My mother said, and these are the words not mine, she couldn’t stand walking into a Walton's store because every single time she did? All the women, working there, were crying. My mother told me that the women working there did not make enough money in a day’s work to go home and feed their children much less clothe them. From what my mother told me, when I was just a boy, the women would work all day and at the end of the day they would be paid just two quarters, that’s all. Now my mother was talking about during the war, World War II for those of you not my age or older. These would be women whose husbands were in Europe or the Pacific theater fighting for this great country. 

.

The wives of these honorable men would work in factories, when there was work. However, in Arkansas, Texas, Louisiana, and Mississippi there wasn’t a lot of that type of work. So Mr. Walton had this brilliant idea. I will open a chain of 'Five-and-Dime' stores (and name them after me) and I’ll give jobs to women whose men are fighting at war. And I will pay them $.50 a day to work. Now these women would work for 8 to 10 hours a day. They would work at very arduous physical work, and they would get paid $.50. Now, I'll do the math for you, that is a nickel per hour he would pay these women.

 .

Not much has changed, here in the 21^st century, for the Walton family. Because, you see, the Walton's are now the single largest employer in our country, they call it Wal-Mart. Seven out of ten¹of all of Wal-Mart’s employees are on; Food Stamps (SNAP-Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program), Medicare,W.I.C. (Women with Infant Children food subsitance program) or some other subsistence programs meant for the impoverished of our country. That 'Greeter' that smiles at you when you go to spend your week's pay, that store associate that helps you pick out the correct T.V., Oven, or dining set you’re looking for, and the boy that picks up the carts from those huge football field sized lots. Seven out of ten of them, all live with help from our governments... that's you and me.

. 

The smiling, apparently happy, Wal-Mart workers. work 8 to 10 hours a day, to go home and eat their dinner. A Styrofoam cup of Ramen noodles, paid for by you and me. If they become ill, you see, they either die or they get medical care from a Medicare Dr. Again, paid for by you and me. If they are foolish enough to get pregnant the pregnancy is monitored by a Medicare Dr., the child is delivered in a Medicare hospital, and that poor child is to be fed with formula paid for by you and me (W.I.C.).

 .

I really hope, My Dear Readers, that you feel the vile disgust I feel as I write every word of this article today. Because you see; the war is over, the boys came home, but now it’s not just the women that are living in poverty. Let me repeat something, you might’ve glossed over earlier, that I said before Wal-Mart is the single largest employer and our nation today = seven out of TEN Walmart employees live below poverty.

. 

I’m to go to the bathroom and I want you to think about the last sentence in the paragraph above. (Playing theme song from Jepordy...)

.

I’m back now, thank you!

.

Right now, I am going to do what it is I do best. I’m going to try and paint picture for you, with words [Thank you, God, for that ability] The very next time you go to Wal-Mart, I want you to do this for me; when you see the female cashier, and she is a young woman of 20 or 30, think about her coming home after eight hours standing behind a cash register, working for Wal-Mart, just to feed her infant child formula paid for by W.I.C. (you and me). When you see the young man pushing carts, back into the store, think about him going home and his whole dinner is a cup of Ramen noodles, paid for by Food Stamps (you and me). When you are at the electronics department picking out that newest game your son and daughter is dying for, the young person that handa you that game if they get sick then the doctor, they see, will be paid for by Medicare (you and me). And finally I’d like for you to think about the person that couldn’t get a job at Wal-Mart, because they wouldn’t betray their beliefs. Now they sit outside Wal-Mart dirty and disheveled beaten by society... with a hand out begging for the scraps on the floor left by 'The Whittiling of America'.

.

^{[1] http://moneymorning.com/2013/06/13/how-the-wal-mart-syndrome-pushes-millions-more-onto-food-stamps/}