Why I'm Applying for Food Stamps

I’m thinking of signing up for food stamps. I have been eligible to do so for almost a decade now, but I’ve resisted. But I’m thinking my time has come. Why now? Why not? Everyone else is doing it, regardless of their “true needs”. I figure it’s about time I joined the line of people with their hands out, begging the government for help. Why not jump on the bandwagon?

For most of my life, I worked serving the community. I have a bachelor’s degree in English and Secondary Education, and a Masters in Counseling and Human Development. I spent almost 20 years working for non-profits, earning the “little bucks”, helping others who were truly in need. My salary stuck me right in that “lower middle class” economically, and my low wage levels qualified me for a whole range of financial assistance programs. But I never applied. I could eek by on my modest income, as long as I forwent the small luxuries in life—things like cable TV, high-speed internet, meat on a nightly basis, and new, luxury cars. I lived in a modest house in a working class neighborhood and clipped coupons. I judiciously saved until I had enough for a modest down-payment on a “fixer-upper” and paid my mortgage each month, even if it meant eating Macaroni and Cheese for a week straight. Then, due to no fault of my own, I was involved in a car accident that required almost 2 years of rehab and left me physically disabled. Everyone around me told me to go on Social Security. I had earned it. But I resisted. Leave the government money for those that really need it. I’m neither poor nor illiterate. I can do it on my own.

Fast forward to the new Millennium. Who are sticking their hands out for government help? Those same entities that have been feeding off of the “little guy” for eons. The corporations who have been rewarding their executive misbehavior with multi-million dollar golden parachutes fir years, while raising the prices end-consumers pay for their goods. The automakers, who have been paying workers replaced by machines to sit around and do nothing for years, while raping the American people with thousands in bogus fees when they attempt to purchase a new car. The banks, who have been paying me less and less over the years for the use of my money, the money they have been squandering. And now, they are demanding more?

I have been bailing out the executives for years, watching as they use my money to buy $10,000 shower curtains, luxury McMansions, and gas-guzzling, oversized cars. I have bailed out the American manufacturers, time and again, by paying more and more for life’s staples (food, gas, etc.) every time I enter a store. I have bailed out retailers with my tax dollars, paying for the public assistance their line-workers need by funding housing assistance vouchers, Medicaid, WIC, and AFDC. Why can’t the mega-retailers pay their workers a living wag with a decent benefit package instead of expecting me to subsidize their costs of doing business?

My 10+ year old car needs about $2000 worth of repairs to keep it in running condition. Are the automakers going to bail me out and help me with the costs of these repairs? Or are they going to charge me $2500 for $2000 worth of repairs, all while sticking their hands out, asking for my tax dollars to help them get through these tough, economic times. Will the banks bail me out, and pay those ridiculous overdraft fees, should I not have enough money in my account for my inflated repair bill? More likely, they’ll attempt to process the under funded check twice, so they can rape me with twice the fees, all while asking for my dollars to help them out.

Maybe if the corporations, auto manufacturers, and banks had been as careful with my money as I had, they wouldn’t be sticking their hands out right now. Instead, they keep acting frivolously, while expecting me to eat canned beans so that they can continue having their nightly filet mignon. They want me to help pay for their McMansions, while I throw another tar patch on my leaking roof. They want me to pay to repair my own, aging goods, so that my tax dollars can pay for them to replace, rather than repair.

So now, I’m thinking of joining that line of people with their hands stuck out. I’m tired of eating stale bread so the “big guys” can continue to have their cake. I’m tired of being sick because I cannot afford the doctors and medicine that might make me well. I’m done with leaving the financial assistance for the “have nots”, only to have the rich butt into the line to grab the dollars from the poor. I’m tired of helping out those who are better off than I.

If I try to grab a piece of the pie to fill that hole in my empty stomach, will they make me regurgitate it back up, so that they may have it for their well-fed bodies? How skinny am I expected to get helping those that are already obese?

So don’t be surprised when you see me, and thousands of my hard-working cohorts join your assistance line. We’ve been dutifully paying our taxes for years, trusting our government to use our resources for the greater good. Instead, we’ve seen Robin Hood reversed—take it from the working poor to give back to those who have been taking from us for years. Now, we’re joining your line in an attempt to get some of it back.

Locals’ Bill of Rights (Otherwise known as Guidelines for Visitors.)

I live on a small barrier island on the West coast of Florida. From about Thanksgiving until the frost melts up North, we are inundated with seasonal residents and weekly vacationers. Many of these folks are warm, polite people. However, the dip in the economy seemed to bring us a dip in the quality of visitors. The following post is a humorous look at how some of us locals feel about THIS crop of visitors.

This is an open letter to all visitors to our humble Island. We welcome you to our little slice of Paradise, and hope you enjoy your stay. But we also implore you to show consideration for the locals, and observe our local customs during your stay.

Yes, there are some of us who are lucky enough to call this our one and only home. We live here. Year round. And a great number of us are neither snowbirds nor retirees. We’re working class, and we can’t afford the luxury of a second home. Many of us have jobs that have nothing to do with tourism or hospitality. We have to get up in the morning and do the Nine-to-Five thing. (Or the Seven-to-4 thing. Or sometimes even the Six-to-Three thing.) Others work the late shift, and appreciate quiet in the mornings so that they can sleep in.

The world may see the Island as a “resort”, but we view it as our home, a working-class city. Please be mindful of this while you are raising a ruckus in your rental house. Chances are, if you don’t see a shingle hanging outside your window that says “Motel”, you’re staying smack-dab in the middle of a quiet residential neighborhood. Especially if you’re staying in Anna Maria City or Holmes Beach. You have the privilege of being our “temporary neighbors.” We ask that you behave as you would have your own neighbors behave back home. If you want to scream and play loud music early in the morning or late at night, consider staying in one of our many beautiful motels, rather than in a quiet, residential neighborhood.

If your children need a place to run around and play, we have several child-friendly hot-spots on the island. We have playgrounds and tot lots. We have the Skate Park in Holmes Beach. And we have miles of beautiful beach front. All of these provide wonderful places for kids to run around and scream without bothering the neighbors. We even have a couple of playgrounds on the beach.

And speaking of our beaches, there’s no arguing that they’re the most beautiful and most popular part of our island. And we ask that you help us to keep them that way. Although the “No Alcohol on the Beach” rule is barely enforced, we ask you to at least respect the “no glass” rule. There are very good reasons behind this rule. There are trash receptacles by every beach access. Please use them. The Gulf is NOT an appropriate place to deposit your empties. Dirty diapers are especially bad for the wildlife. Likewise, the beach is not a giant ashtray, which is why you’ll see the locals carefully collecting their spent butts before they leave the shore.

We love the beach. We are fishers, and swimmers, and skimmers, and walkers, and we all co-exist peacefully. The skimmers try to stay away from the swimmers, and the swimmers try to stay away from the skimmers. The fishers try to stay away from both groups. If you choose to fish from the beach, rather from one of our many scenic fishing piers, we ask that you find a spot away from the swimmers. The walkers carefully watch the fishers and the skimmers, trying not to get in their way. They hate having to avoid the unfilled craters left by children long gone from that stretch of sand. If your children love digging holes, encourage them to make filling them back up the last activity of the day. It’s one less hazard for the walkers, joggers, and skimmers to have to avoid. And believe it or not, unless they’re below the water line, the surf will not fill the holes back in.

We love our dogs. This is probably one of the most pet-friendly destinations in the country. But the locals have to take their pets to the “Doggie Beach” at Palma Sola. Since we get admonished for bringing our pets past the Beach Access, expect us to do the same to you if we see you with your pets on the sand.

Yes, there are many of us who live here, part-time or full-time. Our island is more than merely a collection of rental units. We love our lawns, and we carefully tend our fruit trees. We get extremely miffed when someone parks on our grass, leaving tire tracks, helps themselves to our fresh fruit without permission, or ignores the local “pooper-scooper” laws. We get angry when we see people littering our beautiful paradise. When we drink, we recycle our empties. We are mindful of our impact on this island, and ask our visitors to show similar consideration.

We are lucky not to have to jump in our cars every time we want to go somewhere. We have wonderful, “green” transportation options on this island: the trolley, and the bicycle. Please take advantage of both. But also, be reminded that a bicycle is considered a motor vehicle in the state of Florida. While you may feel safer on the sidewalk than on the street, remember you are supposed to give way to pedestrians and dog-walkers on the sidewalks; they are not supposed to clear the sidewalk for your bicycle. And be mindful that cars use the streets too—pull over to one side when traffic is approaching, rather than staying three abreast, and use your headlights and tail lights at night. We’d like to see you go home with all your limbs intact, and our insurance rates are high enough.

Speaking of the roadways, we do have some beautiful stretches of scenic highway, replete with palm trees, beaches, and water views. We locals are not immune to the beautiful vistas. We just have someplace we need to get to. For many of us, that place is “work,” maybe even at your intended destination. And we’d like to go the speed limit while we’re going there. We ask that you not slam on your brakes in the middle of the bridge to admire the view. There are parking places on either side of each bridge where you may park and admire to your heart’s desire. Those brick things? They’re crosswalks, not speed bumps. You don’t have to slow down unless a pedestrian is approaching, in which case you’re supposed to stop. The whole circle at Bridge Street is a crosswalk. If there are no pedestrians, there is no need to stop. You’re supposed to yield to the traffic already in the circle or to pedestrians. If there’s neither, then there is no need to stop. And we’d like to remind you that the speed limit is over 25 MPH through most of Holmes Beach (and much of Bradenton Beach.) When you get to that restaurant, and your table’s not ready, it may just be because your assigned server was stuck in that traffic behind the guy going 25 in a 45 zone, slowing down to enjoy the view.

We love our island. We choose to live here because we think it is one of the greatest spots on the planet. And we have the best “locals” around. One of the things that make it such a great vacation spot is that we’re more than just an empty resort town; we’re a collection of colorful townies with eclectic histories. We welcome you to our little slice of paradise. However, we’d like to remind you that it’s our home, and we’d like you to respect it as such. You’re playing in our backyard. Remember those “guest manners” your mother taught you? Treat us with respect and observe our local customs, and we’ll welcome you back into our home, time and again. And we’ll even tell you the REALLY good places to eat.