The Workers Leave No Footprints


Dreams Never Die

Misty Foggy Morn

Youth said “Dreams Never Die.” Twenty years passed then Recession kicked in. New Realities were born. Twelve hour workdays became the norm.

Like a drowning man Dreams surfaced again and again only to plummet down to the watery deep. All the while knocking at 1% door watching them through one-sided window laugh, play, drink and party with no thought for the ‘Morrow’. We the unseen only imagining free time for our dreams.

Dreams that must wait until Social Security beckons if death does not reach us first. Fore bread, water, warm clothes and a place to live cry louder. Goodnight Sweet Dreams. May you one day resurrect to a New Dawn.

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The Working Poor Leave No Footprints

Surrounded by a plethora of people who seemed to surface like bloated corpses after spring thaw.  Worker bees we are all meaningless specks of dust being recklessly scattered by blustery winds.  Modern day Robber Barons throw battle weary soldiers back into the battle while they sit sipping tea in Ivory Towers.  Thirty-seven years a professional, now placating rot breath Sabbath suits long in tooth, visions of Mammy dancing in their heads.  Limestone Liver spotted wrinkled bone bags befoul the air with endless demands.  Dontcha know Miz Daisy learned to drive herself and the Help all went to the French Rivera.

Foggy Misty Morn

I am Hagar cast out of my prosperous household, denied by the Master and Mistress I once served.  Thrown out of my protectors’ house my Dream-child and I await Our Avenging Angel of Salvation.

My Dreams now dead buried under work obligations, mountains of rules and regulations that I seem to constantly violate just by being. No miracles exist for me. Only years of mindless drudgery ahead.  Millennial Overseers govern my every move with their remote control mind games.  Freedom lies dormant within my imagination.  My brain has been put out to pasture because intelligence is not needed or wanted and creativity has become a sin.  Automaton Me clad in nondescript dull uniform easily replaceable by the next set of hungry hands yearning for the pence dispensed from the rich mans table.  Hey!! Who’s next up on the Auction Block?!!  Come lock step into the Plantation Mausoleum filled with objects which are valued more than drones who guard them.  We be Aliens in our own Land.  Serfs never reaping a hard earned Harvest.

Yet soon a New Day will Dawn, Dreams will bear fruit and Visions be reborn.

Crusty the Boring Ass Clown


Krusty taking a much needed Bath!
Krusty taking a much needed Bath!

Single Ladies,

Please tell me if you’ve had encounters with Crusty the Clown and his cousin Bob the Boring. What is this aversion guys have to soap, water, bathing, showering, brushing teeth and using deodorant and Lotion!! Do men really feel more manly if they stink, have yellow teeth, and hands like they were wrangling bricks! Especially for men past the half century mark did you somewhere along the line begin to think that body odor and bad breath were a turn-on to women?  Baldness is okay. Like most women I realize that most men past 50 have or are starting to lose their hair, however if you do have hair please know that dandruff is unacceptable.  Unless it is snowing outside there should not be flakes on your clothing. Buy some shampoo and use it!

And oh yes, it you expect us to be in shape and healthy then do some exercise, lose that pot belly that looks like you’re about to birth an alien being and stop smoking.  Most Ladies are not trying to get with the Pillsbury Dough-boy! Shaving is a good thing too, other than mustaches I don’t date men with overactive face follicles. While you’re purchasing the soap, deodorant, and toothpaste please toss some razors into your shopping basket. Not trying to date the Smith Brothers or ZZ Top!!

Oh yes get your conversation together. No woman wants to spend time with a guy who has nothing to say. Mumbling and Cave Man grunts do not make for intelligent dialogue. Maybe take a few Toastmasters courses or public speaking classes. It’ll help. Thank you!

Yours truly,

DeBorah Le Raconteur