Where does the money come from?

For about two weeks we have had little, if any, newspapers delivered to our house. The Commander is not happy. Today, she is going to buy a Sunday paper. A typical day starts by calling the Bismarck Tribune and asking "What day are we going to get the Sunday paper?". The problem seems to be that no one is willing to deliver the paper. In the past, we had good delivery service, until the people doing it figured out they were spending more in gas than they were taking in. This took about five years.

Now, to the crux of the problem. Young people refuse to work. I offered the neighbor boy twenty dollars to cut my grass. He just said no. I said would you do it for a hundred dollars, he still was not interested. When I was handing out campaign material in Stanton, I offered kids fifteen dollars an hour to pass out pamphlets. NO, No, no.

When I was a kid, we were always doing something to scrape up a little cash. In the winter, I shoveled sidewalks for old ladies. We also picked up pop bottles and cashed them in. We pulled weeds for my grandfather; we cut grass; we painted house numbers on the curb, and if someone offered us five dollars, we thought we were millionaires. Now, you frequently see kids driving fairly new cars, most of the time better than the one I have, up and down main street. Who buys the cars and the gas for them? I think the day will soon be here when kids come up to me and say "Hey, old man will you polish my car?". The answer may be yes.

Yesterday, a news report said the economy in a wealthy town was under siege because they could not get a supply of immigrant workers. In some Arab oil kingdoms, the only workers are immigrants. Apparently, we are headed that direction. Life is good. When I become a grandfather, I know someday my grandchildren will ask me "Hey gramps what was work like?". Anybody who knows me may be skeptical that I will be able to give an honest answer.