Depression Cookbook

My Mother always picked pennies up from the ground. When we kids would laugh, all she’d say was never again. Ten years or so ago, I began plucking pennies off the ground myself, actually any money I’d see, you see, a friend told me that by passing it bye, I would show disrespect, and that could block money from coming my way, that made some sense. Mom came through the depression, she never talked to much about it, today, I look back to my childhood, I understand a little better why she always kept a freezer full of bread. Those lines were her horror, it was the bread lines that impacted her most, Dad was telling me today about Roosevelt, that it wasn’t until about 1939, that we started climbing out of that hole, he said he never thought it would happen again, he said he thought enough floors had been built below. I’ve been out of work for most of fifteen months now, I’m tired of this channel, about time for me to change the station, one job starting up, most other projects out here have been shelved. The work looked good back before the crash, I was up in Coos Bay on Vacation, when the rock finely dropped. September, 2008. Back on the job, back in LA, things had changed, things started slowing down, overtime ended. I was telling Dad, I cook a bird, it lasts about five days, I’m finding healthy is cheap, big salads, some Smoked Gouda cheese. I asked Dad if he was watching the Olympics, when I called yesterday, Mom said he got home from the hospital late the night before. Nobody tells me nothing, it was nice, not hearing him groan, he’s been having a rough time lately, I feel a little too far away, he told me it was a mystery, the ER Doctor said he couldn’t figure it out, he told my Dad to go home. So he says he’s been watching the Real Olympic Sports, he bound up a bit, when I asked about the Snow Boarding, said he wasn’t too sure it was wise, to include the Half Pipe in the Games, change is hard, we talked about that kid, The Flying Tomato, wait a minute, I’m sorry, THE ANAMAL, I’ll give him that, Dad started coming around. I am so glad I don’t drive a car, if I had one, I know it would bleed me dry, I was shocked hearing the fine for a red light violation was near $500 out here, yeah, I know, running red lights is bad, but come on, a little cruel and unusual, don’t ya think? I’m getting by these days, riding my bicycle, for about six years now, I’ve opted out of cars, still keep my license. I just dumped the junk!!! All the junk, I stay away from Value Menus, I require the Higher Octane Fuel, to drive my machine, to keep ready for work! Dad said in the depression, there was lots of soup, he remembers bread lines too, said Todays Dollar Menus, are the Bread Lines of the 21st Century.