Sorry, that would be the elevated train. Smoking is banned on all forms of public transit here in Philly. Marijuana smoking is still illegal (Though this will likely change soon). It’s also common to see junkies shooting up on the el. Once, I saw human feces, a puddle of urine, junkies with syringes and junkies with crack pipes. Combined with the Free Space, I got El Bingo. Gritty showed up to verify my bingo. He gave me a soft pretzel.
Ah, thanks. Yes, sounds like the London underground trains !
Huh ?
I guess my question is why do we allow poverty and desperation in a world where there’s more enough to go around? I’m not mad at the junkie, I’m mad at the circumstances that created him.
I used to work at a nonprofit around Philadelphia schools in Kensington, and I was horrified by the conditions in which students were expected to learn. And it horrifies and baffles me that few people really care. There are many in fact who would gut public education further.
And a few years after I left the area, one of our Teen Leaders at the ESL school was found dead in a dumpster around the corner.
Penn did a research study and found that about 60% of the population in that neighborhood suffered from PTSD. And people are expected to just live like that. Communities are expected to function like that.
I feel pity for the junkies. Other than when they are panhandling, they tend to be quiet and keep to themselves. It’s usually a group of teenagers smoking weed on the train.
I Just read a story about people who take a type of anti-depressant (SSrui?)
One of the side-effects is that the it messes with the patient’s sexual abilities. Some experience lack of desire, some experience desire but cannot orgasm, some lose libido altogether. Maybe try to find out if the person is medicated? good luck.
Yeah, I’m on a selective serotonin re uptake inhibitor. All of the above are common side effects. I still say my brilliant yee haw line is the best strategy.
On the bus with him now will report back with the good news.
He had a Bingo card for use while riding the El, with spaces indicating unusual/bad things that happen there. Same idea as Buzzword Bingo or Mom Guilt Bingo.. With those 4 items, he got a Bingo (5 in a row on the card). Gritty, the mascot of the Philadelphia Flyers hockey team, verified he had actually gotten a bingo, and gave him a soft pretzel as a prize, the stereotypical snack food of Philadelphia.
Presumably all of that (except for the feces, urine, & junkies) only happened in his imagination.
Thanks !
Greed.
That’s one element. But, more generally, recognizing that there’s a problem is one thing; finding and implementing effective solutions to the problem is something else. And something like poverty is not a simple problem with a single, simple solution.
I’m sure I’ve bitched about this before, but it continues to vex me every goddamn year. My MIL is fundamentally incapable of choosing a gift on her own. Instead, she demands a wish list in which you basically send her a link to a few things you want, she clicks on the link and then sends you exactly what you requested. This is stuff I could very well buy on my own, so it’s utterly pointless for me to spend so much time trying to figure out what I should ask her for, especially since, if I really wanted it, I would have already bought it. It drives me absolutely apeshit.
She asked what she should get Wee Weasel this year, and we replied, “He could really use a set of pajamas he can wear year-round.”
“What brand should I get him? Did you have any design in mind?”
Jesus fucking Christ can you make one fucking decision on your own? I’d rather get nothing than go through this fucking drag trying to think of things I want that I don’t actually want. I end up spending way more time on it than she does. That’s like the opposite of a gift, in my opinion. It’s a pain in my ass.
Whew! We survived a baker’s dozen of guests in The Teensy House.
The Trumpers didn’t fight with the Bernie clones, no one asked the Thirtysomethings why no one’s pregnant yet; all the side dishes were stellar and Uncle Henry brought his new Home Bar Smoke Kit and made Hickory-Smoked Old Fashioneds.
And Grandma couldn’t hear much, but smiled and didn’t make any racist comments and cheered for the Packers and pronounced it the Best Thanksgiving Ever.
.
My son-in-law’s mother volunteered. But I didn’t have any turkey, because we also had a Rum/Brown Sugar Crockpot Ham.
I have a couple of relatives like that. I ask them for gift cards. It has worked out pretty well because I get what I want and it’s still through their generosity.
This reminds me of my ex-wife and her family. There’s no surprise or thoughtfulness; it’s just about “you tell me what to get you.”
I really hate Xmas for that very reason. And many more. Thanksgiving is so much better precisely because it’s the same food and joy and togetherness but no need for gifts.
Fortunately, I’m only getting gifts for one person. My son. I can have fun getting him stuff.
One Christmas decades ago, I replied “I don’t need anything. If you HAVE to buy me something… I know, get me a Twizzler.”
Well, my sister moved to Hershey, PA. Where their store has a Wall O’ Twizzlers… including a four pounder.
See, that’s a bad ass gift. Totally thoughtful. I love cool stuff like that.
I gave my brothers this exact same rant many, many years ago. And I refused to provide them with lists or take lists from them. Instead, I went to craft fairs and got them gifts that spoke to me for them, mainly Christmas decor and suchlike. Provider her your son’s sizes and interests and tell her the rest is up to her.
Gift-givers who have no imagination or refuse to try to use their imagination, are a burden. IMO, of course.
@digs, @Spice_Weasel, we didn’t do Thanksgiving this year, but your posts made me feel the spirit. 
And we had our little Thanksgiving dinner today. I brined some Cornish hens, and made mashed potatoes, gravy, and corn, and I ate chocolate for dessert. Simple but effective. Came in just under the wire at 8:30pm after putting the kid to bed.
The boy is going stir crazy. I think I’m well enough for a walk in the park tomorrow, if the weather suits.
My husband gets a lot of credit this year for doing everything possible to get me feeling better by Monday. He’s letting me sleep in every morning while he gets the kid ready and he’s taken on the lions share of childcare tasks. I am very thankful for him.
(I spent most of the day preparing the birds for our meal, in case you think I’ve been totally slacking.)