Will ? for Monopoly Game Pieces

I was not playing the Albertson’s Monopoly win-everything-no-one-percenter-needs-or-wants game until a neighbor bestowed a pile of game pieces on me.

“Something for the kids to do on a rainy day,” she said, handing me a manila envelope bursting with little squares and shards a bit larger than New Year’s Eve confetti. [If I used Ticker Tape for a metaphor, would anyone know what I meant?]

Rain isn’t in the forecast. This is California! So, last night, just after I gathered stuff needed to file my taxes before April 15  – another activity no one-percenter has to do as many don’t pay 35%  taxes anyway – I sorted, picked, and licked and prayed that the pieces would remain on the board, if I won.

It’s terrifying to think that on the way to verify my winning board, a gust of wind would blow the piece off into oncoming traffic, and I would die after being run over by a Maserati.

What could I do with one million? Undaunted by the fact that the IRS would chomp on a good portion of it, I hunkered down.

Shards. Shards. My Kingdom for Two Shards

I’m not the only human hunched over a first-base size board impaled by black-and-white name-brand shards clinging on squares promising $5,000 Cash, Red Box rentals, Jet Skis or  a million greenback dollars! Someone else might have the missing piece!

Check out the site. More trading than on the floor of the NYSE. I’m not the only one. Thousands of hopefuls need just a one or two for the Big One Million: 613C, 618H. What am I willing to do for this? Do a book report on Shel Silverstein’s The Missing Piece? That would be too easy.

The Price of Fortune

This is not an R-rated blog. Use your imagination. Send me the where and when, and what. Of course, I’ll have to see your 613C 618H before I make a move.

It would probably be easier to snag a 90-year-old geezer [without grandchildren] on a Republican dating site. Cancel that.

Settling Down

All right. If you don’t have 613C or 618H, I’ll settle for I541C, the $10 Grocery Gift Card. Please, do NOT offer me Q573C, the $200 Family Picnic.

It would probably rain on the day we headed to the park.

 

 

 

We’ve Been Framed

When did words get redefined?

Class warfare.

When did this cease to be associated with Junior HIgh? And become associated with the rich vs the poor? Speaking of that, look at the placement of the words. If it were poor vs rich, would that bring to mind pitchforks, tiki torches and barricades?

However, to keep it rich vs poor is preferable. At least that lets us know who the bullies are.

Job Creators.

This is sneaky. The push to replace the words ‘wealthy’ and ‘rich’ with ‘job creators’ is an exercise in the power of propaganda. It serves a dual purpose, too. Evangelicals can place a subliminal emphasis on ‘creators’ and most assuredly capitalize the ‘c’ making it an official link to that Guy, the Creator!

This is so chilling that I think it’s time to revive Tevye’s conversation with his Creator in Fiddler On The Roof: “If I Were A Rich Man.”

Let’s play with it, with apologies to Sheldon Harnick and Jerry Bock

“Dear Bush, you made many, many poor people.

I realize, of course, that it’s no shame to be poor.

But it’s no great honor either!

So, what would have been so terrible if I could pay the rent?”

If I were a job creator,

Yubby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dum.

All day long I’d biddy biddy bum.

If I were a job creator.

I wouldn’t have to work hard.

Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.

If I were my baddy baddy job,

Idle-diddle-daidle-daidle creator.

I’d buy that big fat House with Representatives by the dozen,

Right in the middle of the beltway.

A fine domed roof with real regressive brains below.

There would be one long loophole just going up,

And one even longer coming down,

And a gigantic earmark going nowhere, just for dough.

I’d fill my yard with chicks and turkeys and geese and ducks

To keep the Tea Party near.

(Insert)Squawking just as noisily as they can. (End Insert)

With each loud “cheep” “swaqwk” “honk” “quack”

Would land like a trumpet on the ear,

As if to say “Here lives the job creator.”

If I were a job creator,

Yubby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dum.

All day long I’d biddy biddy bum.

If I were a job creator.

I wouldn’t have to work hard.

Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.

If I were my baddy baddy job,

Idle-diddle-daidle-daidle creator.

I’d see my wives and mistresses, looking so fine

With proper botox’d chins.

Shopping to their hearts’ delight.

I see them, noses in the air and strutting like peacocks.

Oy, what a happy moods they’re in.

Screaming at undocumented workers, day and night.

The vulture capitalists in town would come to call on me!

They would ask me to advise them,

Like a Solomon or Goldman Saks.

“If you please, Mr. Creator…”

“Pardon me, Mr. Creator….”

Posing problems that would cross a banker’s eyes!

And it won’t make one bit of difference if I answer right or wrong.

When you’re a job creator, they think you really know!

If I were a job creator, I’d have the time that I lack

To play on the golf course all day.

My club would be the Capitol mall.

I’d cook the books with the lawyered men, several hours every day.

That would be the sweetest thing of all.

If I were a job creator,

Yubby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dum.

All day long I’d biddy biddy bum.

If I were a job creator.

I wouldn’t have to work hard.

Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.

If I were my baddy baddy job,

Idle-diddle-daidle-daidle creator.

Aesop who wrote the Ass in the Lion’s Skin,

You decreed Fine clothes may disguise,

But silly words disclose the fools.

By the time they realize they’ve been wrong

That I’ve been stealing from them all along.

They’ll come knocking at my door

But alas, I’ve taken my job creations offshore

Conservative, libertarian and the lot

I’d rather see the people rot.

If I were a job creator. I’m glad I’m not.