Ask a simple question of your elected officials

Some things I just don’t get.

I know it has something to do with getting regular communications from the Social Security Administration checking on me to see if I am all right and ready to receive all the physical and fiscal goodness that can be laid on my old, bowed head by the federal government when I turn another page on the calendar.

Bring it on. In bushel baskets. I’ve earned the heck out of it.

I’m one of those folks that other folks under the age of 40 put in a category or two: Baby Boomer. Nursing Home Chaff. Old. You know, the words and phrases people use when you shuffle out the door at 10 a.m. after a hard night of popping pudding cups and singing “YMCA” at a karaoke marathon, mumbling about how it’s past your bedtime and you need to be “getting up with the chickens.”

Okay, so I go to bed early and like pudding and enjoy the verbal jousting of a karaoke singalong with people who are contractors, school marms, work on cars and get a paycheck for working in the medical field.

That should not give morticians the right to look at me as if I’m one step from filling one of their satin-lined boxes. And, for the record, I hate satin; bury me in burlap, except that’s not going to work either. I have already donated this dilapidated body to a medical school. I can’t think of a better way to “really” go from this world that having a bunch of young folks getting handy with my mortal leavings.

I want my ashes put in a kosher pickle jar and have it carried by a caring and slightly daffy relative to all reunions. “Couldn’t stand to leave George at home when there’s a party,” would be the general comment.

By an agreement made with the gummit back in the ‘50s, I should be getting my Social Security check starting in July. However, the gummit bumpkins bumped it back a year to keep from giving me my money when initially promised because the SS system is such a gosh-dinged mess.

That’s okay. I can wait a year. Maybe. But while I’m waiting I’m going to be raising billy-jack about how those that make, break and change the SS laws that affect working Americans excluded themselves from being under the same system as working Americans.

Every time I encounter an elected U.S. representative or senator, I’m going to ask them this question: Will you please explain to me why Congress is exempt from the Social Security system? I encourage you to do likewise.

When you ask it, back up a step. The outpouring of political palaver that flows forth will be a tsunami of excremental proportions.

If – and this IF is bigger than the federal deficit – federal officials were under the SS umbrella, there would be no problem with the benefits promised to retirees by these same officials, or others of their ilk.

Before this day is out, make a call to the elected federal official of your choice and just ask them that simple question. Then, share the responses with easttexastowns.com.

The comments shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. But it is guaranteed to raise the blood pressure of any living, breathing, caring person over the age of 50 and looking forward to retirement at some point.