Working Class Corner/Dreams of Justice and Robots in the Forest

by- Russell Scott Day

Going to the Chiropractor has apparently helped my mood.   I am crabby or more critical when I am in pain.   I feel a little desperate and diminished so it has been good apparently for the crew that I work with, that I haven’t been in so much pain.

It makes me more useful.

I am regretful that I was not regularly seeing a Chiropractor.   I might not have gotten the arthritis in my upper neck, but it could be worse.

Overall things over time are certain to get worse for me physically as I wear out and eventually die.

I hear that Eurpeons are more realistic, or less hopeful than Americans and that is why the French have so many Unions and Strikes.

Americans like me just go on with all sorts of hopes and dreams and get in debt because there are blonde women and then fly like blimps with ropes being pulled by elephants all of the time.

Have you ever known a great poet who worked as an accountant?

At any rate I need another job at my age, and I don’t think I’m going to become an engineer.

Maybe I’ll turn to selling Aircraft Insurance.

I might be good at that.

I spent the weekend reading Learjet and DC 6 crash reports on Wikepedia.   It was US Aviation Day.

It was Orville Wrights birthday on August 19th and that is why it was declared US Aviation Day according to what I remember of my reading Sunday about airplane crashes.

I want a little plane for myself, or one I can afford to rent at the local 5 mile away airport.

I’d start out there cleaning airplanes and then I’d insure the ones that were most well operated and least likely to be crashed.

Then I’d by me some sort of plane and fly around in it for no particular reason, or reasons of my own.

It would be nice to do such things again.

Airplanes are expensive.

The people I knew that insured airplanes flew balloons.

There is a guy out here that comes from a 75 acre farm that his dad still farms, but he is an airline pilot who comes home and flys his yellow Piper Cub around.

He comforts me.

Oh, the dreams a working man may carry around in his heart as he works for the almighty paycheck!

They pile up and recycle just like his ashes.

P.S.  Nasa has control of 500 acres by the dump that I go to often and I want them to put in an R&D underground center that makes robots that wander around in the Forest like mechanical animals intended as entertainment, or some unknown forested space planet undiscovered that needed a population of idiot robots.