No Mr. Bush, I Agree, We Aren't in a Recession

No Mr. Bush, we aren't in a recession. The countless closing businesses, the empty locked stores and going out of business signs I keep seeing pop up every day, are all a figment of my imagination. The companies that opened new branches recently, and already closed their doors within months, are just something I made up for the shear entertainment value. The masses of people applying for minimum wage jobs must just be doing it to experience the great fun and indulgences it allows us. The increasing number of people showing up at food banks and soup kitchens, which we unfortunately are now forced to frequent, must just be locals out for a grand old good time.

Don't you know everybody enjoys the masochistic pleasures of self-deprivation and financial failure? People truly relish a poorly hidden good look of pity, from a kind stranger serving food. It gives one such a sense of self-pride and accomplishment.

How is that comfy seat up in the ivory oval office feeling? It must have been nice to have heat this winter. How is the view to your well manicured grounds lately? Invite us to dinner. The hubby and I would love to come and meet you and the lovely Mrs. We are polite and gracious people. The only thing is, you will have to send your chauffeur and pilot. We can't afford the gas to get there. You better make it an outdoor barbecue at your ranch. Our humble wardrobe doesn't quite fit in with designer dresses and expensive suits.

We all see beggars on street corners, holding up hopeful cardboard signs to judgemental passers. They must be drunks or drug addicts if they are doing that. No self-respecting human being would sink to such lows. "Let them eat cake. We do. You must be doing something wrong. Honey, would you please pass the fois gras truffé and fresh caviar prepared by the kitchen staff? Tell them to prepare me a nice thick steak too. Oh no there is a finger print on our custom made china serving platter. Send it all back. I just can't eat it now. Throw it out. We can always get more."

Countless acquaintances, friends and relatives who have worked hard with dignity and pride for a dollar, for many years to make ends meet, are now being layed off one by one. They must just be storybook characters we writers have all created. Photographs can be touched up too. Hail to the chief. He wouldn't lie to us.

Those are the ones who aren't are already in the unemployment lines, hoping not to lose the roofs over their heads.

For the ones lucky enough to still be employed, they arrive nervously to work each day wondering if they will leave later with a pay check or a pink slip. They watch a work friend disappear through the doors thanking God it wasn't them that day. Like survivors of a plane crash, they feel guilty for saying that prayer of thanks, while they see a long time workmate walk out, shattered and frightened.

No Mr. President, we aren't in a recession, we are beyond that. We are out in the middle of the ocean without a boat, treading water to survive while the luxury cruisers with their ivory tower passengers glide by pointing at the quaint wildlife peddling through the muck they toss overboard and leave behind. "Look George isn't that cute? Take a picture for the photo album. Throw some spare change to the people drowning. Everyone will be so impressed that we care."

No matter what economic spin you use to make the economy look rosier, there is no way you can flower up the loss of countless homes, which now abound across the nation. The for sale signs are hanging for so long, they are starting to fade or fall apart. Homes do not sell when there is no one who can afford to buy them.

Stores cannot keep their doors open, when no one steps across the threshold to make a purchase. A six hundred dollar rebate check won't pay the mortgage. That is if you are lucky enough to even have a mortgage for which to fight. It might buy some food or gas for the car that is already in dire need of repairs. Sure give us a cute little dollar ducky band aid, when we are bleeding from being slashed with a sickle to the jugular.

Most people don't mind a struggle, but it is hard to fight back without a voice, or the means with which to stand a fighting chance. You have to be given a weapon, to be in a battle. Otherwise people just step all over you. Honour and dignity don't count for much when the creditors are down your throat, or someone has taken away what belongs to you and refuses to give it back.

No Mr. Bush, I agree. We aren't in a recession; we are in a bloody war. Would you pass the butter please?