Another Morning
By Art McSeamus

JUNE 2002

Another morning of sitting here at the old typing machine -- and I do mean typing machine, it's an actual typewriter, granted an electric one -- I don't go for that new computer shit -- you ever try to stop a crazed gook coming at you by cracking him over the head with a computer monitor?...The homeless are wandering around outside so that means it must be nearing my deadline...those poor people: hungry, cold, out of their useless unproductive minds, and lazy -- lazy as me only without a job to provide them with stress, headaches, frustration and a steady supply of half-decent booze.

There's no problem they have that couldn't be fixed by ushering them into the big holes in the street and then welding those iron grates fast in place -- voila!...but really folks, the poor will always be with us just as sure as I'll always be giving it a pull while thinking about the current hot teeny bopper singer of the moment...and hey, enough already with the angry letters about me and the Negroes -- hey buddy, I sold my lawn jockey back in '85, that was seventeen years ago!....Have you ever tried to get some service at the bank these days? Gone are the days when you were greeted with a smile, and the broads knew your name, and there were no hassles. Now you've got to put a stocking over your head and flash a piece if you want them to even look at you...but I love America I really do, just like I love my wife Martha, and let me tell you I wouldn't mind seeing her plugged full by a team of Korean wrestlers...A man's gotta have dreams you know, it's the only thing that gets him through the day.

So when I drift off at night after a warm bath, a brandy, and having Martha massage my tired dogs, corns and all, I start to think about the future; a future where I can order a hamburger that doesn't taste like cardboard, where I can get a damn cup of Joe for under two dollars, where my accountant doesn't have a bone through his nose, where my barber isn't a homo, and where the imbeciles on the other end of any customer service line I call know how to speak English for Chrissake! To me it doesn't sound like much to ask. I basically just want my kids to be able to live in a world where they're not going to be losing their jobs to some freak with a turban who thinks it's Halloween. I dunno, I'm just hopeful.

 

This has been Art McSeamus -- Just Thinkin!

 

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