Showing posts with label abuse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label abuse. Show all posts

Friday, June 29, 2012

Standing up for What's Right Vis a Vis Welfare Abuse

I almost put the words "welfare fraud" into the title of this post, but I didn't.  I don't like opening cans of worms, you see.  Plus, technically it's not true.  To be completely fair, technically it's not welfare abuse either, but I guess this is where my bias becomes clear ;-)

Last week, New Hampshire media started reporting the story about a store clerk who refused to let a customer buy cigarettes with his welfare card (they're called "EBT Cards" here in New Hampshire, but I know that's not universal, so I'm calling them welfare cards).  

I guess the point was made that he could just walk over to the ATM, withdraw cash with his welfare card, and buy cigarettes with that.  He didn't think that was fair or right.  Anyway, the media got wind, so now it's out there.  

But interestingly, no one really wants to talk about it.  

So I figured I'd bring it up here, share my thoughts, and find out what you, my brilliant readers, think.

Oh, and for any non-American readers, a welfare card is basically set up to mirror a credit card so recipients don't have to count out food stamps (and cashiers don't have to count them ... or something). If you have an EBT card and you get a "food stamp" allotment, you can only buy "food items" with that money (which, by the way, does include soda, candy, lobster, and filet mignon).  If you receive financial assistance (which is usually tied to either having minor children at home or some sort of disability), you can use that money however you want.

Okay, I understand that people need assistance.  I have absolutely no problem with my taxes going toward families that are unable to find work for a short time.  There are people, lots of people, that receive welfare assistance for a period of time while they're finishing school or trying to find a job or overcome an illness or whatever, and I am totally okay with that.  

What drives me crazy is that those are in the minority.  A huge percentage of people that receive welfare benefits have figured out how to beat the system (continuing to have children so your benefits don't end even when you're then trying to raise nine kids, for example, or my personal nomination for the hall of shame, one of my former friends--he had a shitty little food stand, and he bought the food and drinks he sold with food stamps because he could make five or six times what the state had given him to keep his children fed, and turn it into cash...that is utterly deplorable, in my opinion).  

But back to the cigarette situation.  

I want to go shake that cashier's hand.  Seriously, if someone needs money to survive on, cigarettes should not be included in that package.  It is like flipping off the system that has kindly given you money, and furthermore it's adding to the increasing likelihood that this guy will end up with some long-term medical condition that will entitle him to stay on assistance forever.  

It really burns me up.

With that being said, though, technically the cashier was in the wrong.  I mean, it's not up to any of us that work long hours and sacrifice much so that some guy can go buy a pack of butts with money that he didn't earn.  

A besides, if the scrub can then just go to the ATM and take out the equivalent cash, the problem still exists.

So while I think it is so cool that the cashier stuck to her moral guns, we're dealing with a system that is not set up to be judged by the morals of others.  And so she was wrong in the sense that, Constitutionally speaking, the guy has the right to buy cigarettes with money that the State of New Hampshire opined was necessary to his (or, God forbid, his children's) survival.

But it still sucks.

Considering where I fall on the political spectrum, my vehement distaste for the welfare system and the need for it to be overhauled sooner rather than later is pretty funny for people that know me well.  In fact, when it comes up in conversations and I go all, "Welfare recipients should have to be drug-tested every week ... there should be required to have hysterectomies after six consecutive kids ... they should have to provide evidence on a weekly basis that they are legitimately seeking employment ... they should NOT be allowed to buy tobacco or alcohol (or lobster)", my friends nearly pee themselves.     

The problem is, this whole mess brings up the question of, "Who decides morality?"  And the answer is ... well, it's not really the government's business to say what is right or wrong in terms of morals.  And if I want to say that same sex marriage should be legal because who the hell am I to judge or that women should be able to choose whether or not to have an abortion because it's none of my business and so on, then I certainly don't have the right to get all bent out of shape over some dude scamming the system over a pack of butts.

Yet I find that I am, and I am incredibly proud of Jackie Whiton, a woman I have never met and probably never will as she was fired for her refusal to allow the loser to buy cigarettes with state-given money.

His response to the whole situation was, as stated to the media, "Clearly I was in the right, because she was fired" after he called the store's company and complained that he'd been discriminated against.  He then went on to say--and yes, I am serious--"I barely qualify for it, and for me to use the few dollars I get on cigarettes, that's considered a treat."

A treat.  

So, yeah, enjoy your treat, buddy.  I'll continue to work my butt off and eschew any treats so I can save up any remaining money after paying the monthly bills so that my daughter won't be buried in student loans when she graduates from college.  

Sounds like you're perfectly happy to sit around collecting, and since the government continues to entitle that mentality, go for it.  I'm sure a self-aggrandizing twit like you doesn't care about the impact your smug little actions might have for people that use the welfare system legitimately.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Honoring a Marriage That is Over

Nine years ago today, I got married.  I took marriage very seriously, and I certainly never intended for it to ever end.  As a child of divorce myself, it was vitally important to me that I make the commitment of marriage only if I was 100% sure.

Obviously, things didn't work out the way I'd intended.

Mental illness and alcoholism brought on by stress and long-suppressed memories changed the man that I married--and he was a good man--into an unrecognizable monster.

There are two people in every marriage, and there are two people that contribute to the destruction of one.  I have a boatload of faults, and I do not pretend to have been the perfect wife.  I wish that my ex-husband could have communicated his concerns to me before reaching for the bottle.  I wish that with all my heart, because we had a really good marriage for a very long time.

I will never be sorry that I was married to Pythagorus.  Ever. (And we had an extremely unpleasant phone conversation last night that falls under "bullying" and "verbal assault" as defined by my school and by pretty much anyone with a clear mind, so these words carry greater weight today, as far as I'm concerned, than they would have yesterday at this time)

The most obvious reason that I don't regret my marriage is obviously Belle, a magical, funny, beautiful, intelligent miracle of a child.

But there is a lot more.

The man I married had a wonderful sense of humor.  We spent hours laughing together, sharing stories from our days, discussing current events that crossed into bizarre territory, and finding entertainment everywhere we went.

He was unfailingly kind.  He would give the shirt off his back to a stranger, and I completely mean that.  I watched him, over the course of our marriage, offer assistance to human beings of every age and walk of life, and he did it without expecting anything in return.  I can't remember him ever raising his voice--much less his hand--to me for the lion's share of the years we dated and were married.

Pythagorus was a master at finding random adventures.  We would get into the car and just drive, talking the whole time, and ending up in many different and unexpected locations.  It's a rare person that can find excitement in the seemingly mundane, and Pythagorus was a genius at this.

Pythagorus unquestionably made me a better person.  I was at a very low point in my life when I met him, and his positive attitude and appreciation for things like sunsets on a mountain or flying a kite on a windy day dissipated the bitter, cynical attitude I had adopted toward life.  Many of the good parts of who I am today are because of the love, support, and patience that Pythagorus gave to me.

I do not trust easily, and there were things I never told Pythagorus about my past (in retrospect, I'm relieved, because he's turned into the kind of jerk that would find a way to use some of these things against me), but I did fully believe in him and completely trusted that he would always be there for me just as I intended to always be there for him.

My husband, for all intents and purposes, died several years ago.  It's only recently that I've fully realized that, and I still grieve for him.  I loved him very much, and I still miss him.

However, the man with Pythagorus' face today, the bitter and cynical and mistrustful liar that has taken over his body, is not that man.

Which makes it even worse.

When somebody that you love passes away, the pain is enormous.  Death is the ultimate closure, in a way, because you have to forge ahead with life and figure out a way to live without a loved one.  You can look back fondly, can visit a cemetery, can appreciate the difference someone made in your life and honor that person through words and deeds.

I lost my stepdad and my grandfather, both great men in terms of their families and of the larger world, within a few years of each other.  I loved them both very much, and I miss them every day.  Their legacies live on, though, through memories and stories shared at family events and, yes, through those of us they left behind.      

It is impossible to honor the Pythagorus that exists today.  There is nothing--not one single thing--noble or fine about him.

The fact that he was once a great man makes the cruelty of not being able to honor who he used to be even more difficult.  The face I once loved is still in the world, spitting out lies, bullying, manipulating, endangering the lives of other people, and thriving on mind games.

It makes it difficult to even mourn the man who was my husband, and that just breaks my heart.

But I can still honor our marriage, and so that is what I do today.   

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