“We were happy, studying hard. Neither one of us had a job, because Mitt had enough of an investment from stock that we could sell off a little at a time. The stock came from Mitt’s father. When he took over American Motors, the stock was worth nothing. But he invested Mitt’s birthday money year to year — it wasn’t much, a few thousand, but he put it into American Motors because he believed in himself. Five years later, stock that had been $6 a share was $96 and Mitt cashed it so we could live and pay for education…
‘Another son came along 18 months later, although we waited four years to have the third, because Mitt was still in school and we had no income except the stock we were chipping away at. We were living on the edge, not entertaining. No, I did not work. Mitt thought it was important for me to stay home with the children, and I was delighted.”—
Oh my god, Ann! This sounds JUST LIKE my parents’ story! You know, the one where they were so poor that they had to work three low-wage jobs apiece, collect cans and newspapers out of trash bins, and raise my sister and I in the projects in order to fight their way out of poverty.
You know, the story, Ann! It’s the one where a business environment forged by hundreds of years of institutionalized racism made it impossible for my father to get a white collar job despite his education because who could trust a young black man back then? And remember how institutionalized the racism was that businesses would actually say that to his face? He ended up taking three jobs — at a deli counter, at a Burger King, and as a stock boy — oh yeah, he worked all those jobs at once. Didn’t he know that all he had to do was have his impoverished coal miner father believe in himself more? Lol!
That’s awesome that you got to stay home to raise your children. I mean *I* can relate to that seeing as I had to raise my little sister — if only my parents could afford to be stay at home parents — or afford child care for that matter! As a eight year old, staying up until midnight each night just so that I could wake my mother up in time so that we could pile in the car to pick my father up from his night job was so much fun! Of course, she was sleepy because she had to work multiple jobs too!
Since my mom was the only one who could get an above-minimum wage job on account of her being an “Oriental”, she worked as a secretary, at a printing press, and as a waitress in a Chinese restaurant six days a week. I wish she had just listened to Mitt!
Remember how the minimum wage was just $2.90/hr…. (Sorry, Ann. I meant “half a share of Mitt’s stock per hour”.) Remember how the low minimum wage meant that you could barely cover your government assisted rent, no-frills groceries, expensive utilities, and your barely working used car (made by Romney’s American Motors! How ironic!) just to keep up let alone put anything into savings? I mean, who has time to entertain when you can’t afford cable television or a home phone?
One thing that was different, though, Ann, was that my parents weren’t happy where you and Mitt clearly were. I mean, they loved each other and they loved us kids, but boy, could they argue! They’d get into arguments about things like how to spend the extra $1 they’d have left over at the end of each week. Do they buy an extra loaf of bread so the kids wouldn’t be as hungry? Fresh milk instead of watering down the can of condensed milk? Gas for the car so that they’d make it to the third job on time. Such silly arguments! They should have learned to struggle like you did. It sounds like you and Mitt clearly did have all the best days! Now that’s a real marriage! (unlike their silly interracial marriage — remember how people used to treat the interracial couples then like we do gay couples now? That was awesome for kids like me!)
When I see you on television talking about how you got by, in your basement apartment with your ironing board dinner table (how Bohemian!) I can’t help but think of my parents. I mean, it’s like you’re fucking twinsies. You should all go ride your Olympic show horses together. I’m sure they’d identify with your struggle 100%. You’d have so much to talk about!
Or, those of us who are super fuckin’ old don’t cotton to “reblog this if” posts. I WANT TO SEE HOW MANY DECENT PEOPLE THERE ARE ON TUMBLR REBLOG THIS IF YOU’VE NEVER PUNTED AN ADORABLE KITTEN INTO A VAT OF MOLTEN STEEL REBLOG THIS IF YOU HAVE NEVER BULLIED AN AMISH…
It came up on the dash a few times. I reblogged it in hopes it would go away.
Okay the thing about reading books from the perspective of straight men - and particularly straight teenage boys - is that there’s this pervasive sense of entitlement to women which is not surprising but it is really gross and off-putting.
Now I'm really curious...Reblog this if you're 20 or older.
The lack of notes.
Or, those of us who are super fuckin’ old don’t cotton to “reblog this if” posts. I WANT TO SEE HOW MANY DECENT PEOPLE THERE ARE ON TUMBLR REBLOG THIS IF YOU’VE NEVER PUNTED AN ADORABLE KITTEN INTO A VAT OF MOLTEN STEEL REBLOG THIS IF YOU HAVE NEVER BULLIED AN AMISH PERSON TO THE EDGE OF SUICIDE REBLOG THIS IF YOU HAVE NEVER SEXUALLY ASSAULTED A FIRE HYDRANT. For God’s sake, who hasn’t humped a fire hidrant at least once in their lives? Kids experiment!
Person on Facebook, Tumblr, etc. : Wow I am like super socially awkward and really shy but I am soooo nice I talk to everyone and I’ll talk to you too just message me!
Me: Hi…so I see that you like-
Person: Omg like EW who the fuck are you anyway and why are you talking to me you’re ugly and creepy get out of my ask!
*snerk* I meant to respond to this one but lost it and then found it again. Am I the only one who finds Tumblr to be kinda unfriendly? I see all these reblogs of OOOO FILL MY ASK BOX PLEEEEASE. But then you write something like, “Hey, dude I like yer blog” and it’s like BLACK CONE OF SILENCE. Maybe what they really mean is, “Will all the COOL PEOPLE fill my ask box? The rest of you can go F*** yourself.”
Just extrapolating from my own Tumblr use experience, I assume they don’t know how to reply to the Ask Box message or the ask stuff is broken in the whatsitcalled style or skin they use or maybe it is completely broken in all of Tumblr and by accident only spambots get through or something.
Tumblr’s Ask and Fan Mail are buggy as fuck. It took me weeks to successfully answer an ask.
Really though, how hard is it to say “This thing is racist & I like it anyway”? All of these “it’s fashion” defenders are out here blurting out the stupidest shit when they know good & damned well that those pics are fucked up. But they like the idea of dressing up in cultures so they don’t want to hear that they’re racist too. Too damned bad.
If small business is indeed the engine that drives job growth in America, then we are certainly trying to do our part. And so as a small business owner committed to job creation, let me just say:
IF I HEAR ONE MORE FREAKING PERSON TELL ME THAT I BUILT MY BUSINESS, I AM GOING TO VOMIT.
You know why there aren’t a lot of small online media companies emerging from Somalia these days? Because they don’t have a freaking government. They don’t have bookstores where I could sell books, or roads I could use to get t-shirts to your house. My businesses—like all American businesses—exist because we live in a successful and stable country, which is only successful and stable because for generations, we’ve paid taxes that have allowed us to build an infrastructure and make investments in innovation that allow for increased economic productivity and efficiency.
The free market has shown again and again: It can’t make such a world without government assistance. (Witness, for instance, how bad the free market is at developing new classes of antibiotics, even though such antibiotics would be very useful at keeping people healthy, which in turn increases our Gross Domestic Product.)
My work—like almost all work these days—depends upon the Internet, which wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for government investment. If I hadn’t received excellent free primary school education, I could never have written books. And if primary education weren’t free and compulsory in the United States, I’d have fewer readers, because fewer people could read.
In his stump speech, Mitt Romney has said, “The other day, you know, I thought about a kid that works hard to get the honor roll. And she works real hard. I know that to get the honor roll she had to go on a school bus to get to school. But when she makes the honor roll, I credit the kid, not the bus driver.”
Well, I credit the bus driver, for providing a safe and comfortable environment for that student. But drivers aren’t just collecting a paycheck: They’re performing a vital service, and one that involves tremendous responsibility. So yes, I credit them.
And I credit the kid’s teacher, who works tirelessly to get the kid excited about learning. I credit the kid’s parents, and I credit her peers. I credit the school’s cafeteria staff, who work to get the kid as nutritious a meal as budget cuts will allow. I credit the school librarian, if the school still has a librarian, who teaches the kid research skills that will serve her well throughout life. I credit the politicians who raise taxes to pay for better schools rather than cowardly arguing that taxes should always be lower, even if they’re already lower than they ever have been. I credit the school board and the people who repave the roads to school to keep them safe.
I credit the kid. But I also credit her community. They recognized the kid (like all kids) was worth investing in. They cared for her. They made it possible for her to succeed.
Over the years, I’ve encountered a few successful people who believe they did it all themselves and achieved success because they are just better than their fellow human beings. Some were bankers; some were writers; some were lawyers. Some male, some female. Some rich, some not. Some were born into privilege, some weren’t. I guess they’re a pretty diverse crowd. They only have one thing in common, really: They’re all assholes.