Militant Uncle Sam- Spend, Spend, Spend

Domestic Uncle Sam Could Squeeze a Diamond Outta His Ass, He's so Tight

Today is a red-letter day, it has occurred to me that I am a woman- and yes, I like to spend money. Whether it is purchasing Victoria's Secret pants or scouring the world in search of the best and pointiest Naturalizers, I am a creature who is not at all attached to her dollars and cents. I love the sound of a register ringing. I adore the way cash rustles when it is being counted. I have at least a little bit in common with one of my old college professors. He used to say that change jingling in the collection plate at church was his favorite sound- and his wife's cheeks turning red was his favorite reaction. While I pride myself on having a this or a that for nearly every what if occasion-- I know the outfit I will be wearing when I finally tell writer David Lipsky that I love him, haha-- I wouldn't know what on earth is the proper attire for groveling. Monica Lewinsky knew about kneepads, I don't. Does one beg today simply by crawling on the hands and knees, or is it intense pleading and grand gestures? Should I cry, or cover myself in so much dirt and filth that no one can see my eyes anyway? You should care about what I'm saying. You should be asking these same questions. Well... not about Monica. Why bring her into anything- the clock has run out on those fifteen minutes- and like Kato Kaelin, she refuses to go gently into the good night. No, my friends, I'm talking about a far more heinous problem than just begging for money. Begging the government for money. Social Security. Stop laughing- you too, grandma, you'll give yourself a heart attack. If you're like me, you know most of the intelligentsia is discussing the bankrupt state of affairs. You know the radio commentators and talk show hosts all argue in those same monotonous voices. You know it's damn hard to make sense of it, and even harder to see the relevance when it won't affect you for another 20 or 30 years. There's more than enough mortgage payments, college debt, and baby shit to worry about right now. You're in baby shit up to your eyeballs, lucky you. That's all the more reason to start planning ahead. These politicians don't want to hear about health problems and heart attacks. They're not acquainted with the heart, so they have no idea what to do when something's wrong with it. To them, ER is not a place or a TV show, but a stammering sound they make when caught by the media in a lie. "I did NOT have sexual relations with that woman... what exactly did you mean by 'is'?" No, my main area of concern with the Republican proposal is that I love spending money! I am single-handedly responsible for the state of Philadelphia's retail economy- the shoe industry, in particular, owes much to my short attention span and 'the wallet that never sleeps.' I know I wouldn't hold on to any portion of my income that Washington declared I could set aside for retirement. But the conservatives all claim we know better than some bureaucrat how to plan for our own futures. Here's the irony. On the Republican side, according to their plan, we won't be able to touch the money, either! Shopaholics, breathe a sigh of relief with me at the count of three. George Bush doesn't trust you any more than John Kerry did. He just has better speech writers. Now, to my fellow Gen X'ers and Y'ers, all we have to worry about besides the college debt and the baby shit is making a wise investment decision with growth potential for the next thirty odd years. And all I have to worry about is what high heels I'll wear to the Senior Citizen Prom. With David Lipsky at my side, of course.