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05MAY24 - Many years ago I found myself active
on behalf of a social service agency. It was
your standard grant funded organization that
provided payments for late electric bills
administered a housing program. General
do-gooder stuff that gaveve you the do-gooder
feels. I would constantly take to Craigslist
to defend the program when there would be
the typical conservative complaintant who
had some issue with XYZ being government funded.
I had my assumed identity down pat...
I called myself a board member (of what I never specified).
I was between the age of 50 - 75.
I was extremely well versed on the in and out of
the programs and what they did and more important
what they didn't do.
Every explaination about a program's limitation
was followed with an incredibly outlandish story
about why that limit was put in place. I
frequently would use names from the obituaries
from our local paper as characters in this tales
of government assistance issues past.
"Flossy Henderson once signed twelve of her cats
as elderly dependents and was able to get them
all Meals-On-Wheels"
"Don Bassit got HUD to build a house for his
lawn jockey and even started renting it out
to the gnomes in the back yard"
"Dennis Burgin qualified for a Wheels 2 Work
car as a stunt driver and they replaced his
vehicle three times!"
I would then tie up the post with a summary why
XYZ entitlement or assistance wasn't near as bad
as the complainers say, just look at where we are
now vs how the older generation was able take
advantage.
I'd sign off with the name Dicky Rhubarb, which
made me laugh every freaking time I'd say it
out loud.
One day I spun a tale while drinking about a
guy named 'Phil' who was a local furniture dealer,
an avowed Tea Party member and
HVAC dealer as well one time Mayor of the town.
Having thought for sure I remember this guy dying.
I recalled in my CraigsList post that the
reason the Community Action Program no longer
gives out free air conditioners is because he
and his even more elderly father were sneaking
into the recipient's homes and replacing the
AC's coolant with not only something that is
Federally banned but also smelled like burnt
baked beans
Fast forward about 60 days. I was asked by the
board to take meeting minutes because of the
absence of their assistant that normally does
such things. Everything was going rather normal
I hadn't really looked around or paid much
attention to my surroundings, only listening
to the mundane progression of the meeting and
taking notes.
During 'public comment' I hear this wavery yet
loud voice interrupt another member of the
public.
"WhIcH oNe Of YoU iS DICKY RHUBARB??"
I looked up to see two elderly men (one much
older then the other) standing with printed
papers in their hands. God.. I wish I had
been able to accurately notate during this.
I kept it together the best I could as these
two verbally took our chairman who's name was
Rich ("Richard = Dick = Dicky" a coincidence
I had NEVER considered!) to the mad with
several "Dag-gums" "Monkey Shines" and
"Horse Shits".
The entire exchange, whatching and realizing
that this guy Phil was in fact not dead and
although old was as much of the rowdy cowboy
type as people said. My brain hurt, my face
red, I felt like an over pressurized boiler
as I kept my laughter inside.
I was doing good and pretending to move my hand
to take notes and then I hear in an extremely
authorative, southern lawyer tone
"I have never put beans in an Air Conditioner
even if I hate Obammmmmmma". At this point
I laughed but covered it up with a pained
moan and loudly yelled the only word I could
manage, Bathroom. As I sprinted away, I
hit the door jam and gave myself a bruise
on my head. Illiciting a "Wut the sam hell"
from the elderly father as my head and the
hollow metal doorway made the same sound
the Windows 3.1 knock.wav notification made.
I don't know how the rest of the meeting
ended as I actually went to my car and laughed
until I cried and then left once I could
regain my composure.
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