There Is No Broadcast With This Editorial.
A POX ON ALL OF THEM . . . THERE’S NO FREE RIDE & NO-ONE’S ENTITLED:
Let Me Tell You Something About Me That Really Isn’t Anyone’s Business.
But First . . . While Reading This – It Might Make You Angry At Me, thinking that I’m a Cold Hearted SOB, who doesn’t Care about the Well-Being of Other People and their Families.
The Media, Politicians & Bleeding Hearts Should Give It A Rest.
I’m not about to Rend-My-Clothes for the Furloughed Government Employees, who are Nothing More & Nothing Less than Pawns played by the LEFT.
OK – They’re Not Working. Or working without getting Paid now, but they will get Paid once the “Shut-Down” is Ended. However, Spin-off Industries are also suffering more than just somewhat, whose People who don’t work for the Government Won’t Get Paid Anything When All Of This Is Done . . .
TOUGH . . . PERHAPS NEXT TIME – THEY WON’T VOTE FOR SHMUCKS!
I’ve been Laid-Off from Work for Whatever Circumstance . . . Without any Expectation of Receiving Missed Salaries. Especially 100% of Missed Salaries.
As A Businessman – I’ve Lost Contracts & Lost Clients . . . And even after doing the Work, sometimes I didn’t get Paid . . . And there was Never Anyone Waiting in the Wings to Cover my Losses, or to Pick-Me-Up when I was Knocked-Down.
I’ve Been Bankrupt . . . because I was Either Incompetent, Made Mistakes or Shit-Happened. But All Of That Was On Me. And I Never Blamed Anyone for my Mistakes or Misfortune. And I NEVER Missed NOR Delayed Paying my Employees 100% of what was Coming to Them (Salaries, Commissions, Bonuses or Expenses), Regardless of what it Took for Anne & I to get them their Money.
And When I Finally Got My Stuff Together & Figured-Out How To Make Money . . . I Helped Hundreds of Montreal Homeless People. I Contributed Significantly to Feeding the Hungry, Including Feeding Thousands of Hungry Montreal School Children.
I Fought (and still do) for Animal Rights. I Created, Organized & Financed a Million Dollar Montreal Campaign to Defend Battered Women . . . And I Went To The Mat Fighting For Freedom Of Expression – Which I Still Do.
SO I DON’T NEED ANYONE TELLING ME THAT I DON’T HAVE COMPASSION:
My Dad Was Born In Canada In 1918, to Immigrant Parents from Russia. And Including my Dad, there were 9-Siblings, all but Two Born in Canada.
My Mom Was One Of 8-Siblings, also born to Immigrant Parents from Russia. She and all of her Brothers & Sisters were Born in Canada.
During WWII . . . As soon as Canada Declared War on Germany, my Dad & Three of his Brothers Signed-Up to Fight the Nazis. My Mother, who at that time Didn’t know my Father, gave-up a good Job, also to Sign-Up and do Her Part.
After the War, my Parents Met, Courted & Married . . . They had three Children, my Older Sister by 14-Months, Myself – Born On February 12, 1950, and a Younger Sister by Several Years.
When I Write That We Were Poor . . . Let Me Tell You About Being Poor.
As A Child . . . Until I was just Under 6-Years Old, we Lived for at Least one Season in an Un-Insulated Country House On Stilts, Miles from Montreal & Miles from any Form of Public Transport.
I Don’t Think We Even Had A Flush Toilet.
In the Winter Time . . . My Father would go Outside with a Steel-Wash-Tub, fill it with Snow, and Warm it up on a Pot-Bellied Oil-Fired Cook-Stove, which was also the only Source of Heat in the House, so my Sisters and I could have a Bath.
MY PARENTS NEVER THOUGHT ANYONE OWED EITHER OF THEM ANYTHING:
My Dad Came Home From The War As A Real Hero . . . But without any Form of Education – He could Neither Read Nor Write, until my Older Sister Taught him when she was in Grade-Three.
The Best My Dad Could Do To Make A Living . . . was to be a Presser in a Montreal Women’s Clothing Sweat-Shop. And Everyday, he would come Home Physically Exhausted & Emotionally Depleted. And I would look at his Hands, which were Deeply Calloused from Running the Steam Iron.
My Parents would Argue a lot, because there was Never Really Enough Money for us to Live even a Modicum of a Decent Lifestyle. For my Parents . . . It Was Non-Stop Pressure.
For Lunch . . . My Mother Often Made Pancakes – Flour was cheap. We would also Eat Cereal for Meals, and whatever Meat, Fish & Potato Dishes my Mother Cooked, which we were able to Afford . . . But We Never Went Hungry.
At One Point . . . We lived in Montreal (my Birthplace), in Several Rat & Cockroach Infested Homes. I remember Rats or Mice Running on the Kitchen Floor as my Mother was Preparing a Meal.
One Day, when I was about 10-Years Old, and my Dad was Finally Able to Read & Write because of my Older Sister, he became a Window & Siding Salesman, Knocking-On-Doors for one of his Brothers, while my Dad was Learning the Trade, before He could afford to Buy a Car and Knock on Doors for Himself.
We Went From Abject Poverty – To what could be considered a Lower Income Middle-Class Family. We Thought We Were Rich. But Also . . . We Never Thought We Were Poor Before Either.
I Got Very Sick When I Was 10-Years Old, with Rheumatic Fever. There was no Government Sponsored Healthcare. There were only Decent Hard-Working Family Physicians who made House-Calls, and had their Offices in their Homes.
Kindly Dr Shapiro . . . came to my Home at Least Several Times a Week over a long Period of Time, Accepting whatever my Parents were able to Pay Him. And when I had to be Hospitalized for many Weeks, I was in the Public Ward at the Jewish General Hospital, which was either Free, or was Charged based upon what a Person could Afford.
I Didn’t Know It Was The Poverty Ward . . . And I Wouldn’t Have Cared If I Did.
At Twelve Years Old . . . I Got A Job Fixing Bicycles at a Small Sports Store, where I worked Everyday after School for $0.75 An Hour. Not only did I Fix Bicycles, but I also washed the floors and did whatever else as I was asked.
And At The End Of Every Week – When I Got Paid . . . I Gave All My Money To My Mom, because I was Proud that I was Contributing to the House. And when I Needed some Money, I asked my Dad. And it made him feel Good that he was giving his Son some Money.
I was (and still am) an Entrepreneur. And when I didn’t Work at the Sports Store, I Babysat, Washed Windows for Neighbors, Mowed Lawns and Shoveled Snow.
And By The Time I Was 18-Years Old . . . I was going to University Several Nights A Week, while Working Full-Time During the Day. And when I Wasn’t doing my “Normal” Job or going to University, I was Putting Together Promotions to Sell to all Manner of Companies.
TODAY . . . It’s Not About Merit & Sacrifice – It’s All About Entitlement.
As I’m Writing This . . . I’m Watching the Women’s March on Television with the Sound Muted. I’m Seeing Women from all Ages, with a Message that Screams . . . LOOK AT ME – I’M A PERSONAL EMBARRASSMENT.
I’m Looking At Women . . . Who by their Own Culpability – Are Declaring that they Don’t Measure-Up In Today’s Society. Who are Too Stupid, Bitter, Weak & Incompetent to be an Equal to Anyone who Doesn’t Want to Feel Unjustly Empowered.
If I Had A Son . . . I Wouldn’t Want Him To Marry Any Of These Pieces Of Work Under Any Circumstance. To Me . . . They Are Social Failures. I would Pray that my Son Would Marry someone like Anne, who is Incredibly Strong, Smart, Talented, Capable and a FEMININE Woman . . . Who Neither Asks Nor Expects Anything She Isn’t Prepared To Work-For Herself.
I Would Want My Son To Marry A Woman Like My Mother . . . who was so Strong, that while her Life was a Misery, her Children always Felt Protected, while She Stood as the Rock my Father Needed . . . While He Was Getting His Mental Stuff Together.
To These Female Disgraces & Whiny Politicians . . . You’re Not Worthy!
Best Regards . . . Howard Galganov