Lost Good Years
Marshall's Law Town Hall Entry 018
Explaining not complaining, still not ready to practice writing exercises documenting contemporary history.
Difference between conservatives and liberals who change integrity as situations change. Conservatives describe oath breaking betrayal of Camelot’s love triangle behavior as “dogs in heat”; while those beyond redemption justify dogs in heat as selfish entitlement. One reason Democrats apparently like being fools is their devotion to building Camelot so they can destroy it with decadent promiscuity.
Concepts for further thought, since Heaven not citizens saves souls of sinners; does oath to defend Constitution include coming to aid or defending those threatening Constitution and Bill of Rights? Second, are some betrayal sins beyond forgiveness and best remembered as life lessons or lost good years?
“Lost good years” that seems like a good title for prose based on recent experience. Death of love like death of a good life, can only made easier by time.
Lost Good Years
Prologue: Daymares, nightmares, either or both offer relief from conscious memories; especially for people who's fate does not include making it to promise land. Some know my meaning, bad days get worse; rare good days turn too. If life were fair, there would be no addicts, sinners, or lost good years.
Assignment seemed simple enough line up ducks for a two vehicle multiple fatality traffic accident. For this case putting ducks in a row included:
1. Photograph, diagram, measure accident scene;
2. Photograph and check out vehicles, purchase both wrecks if possible and place in locked storage;
3. Interview witnesses and survivors, no survivors in this case;
4. Pick up copies of all records, documents, and news reports;
5. Conduct necessary background checks;
6. Pursue other related leads.
My original reason for entering any investigation area after dark has long been forgotten. Perhaps one learns about character of a community by quality of its night people.
It was almost two forty five in the morning when I headed for a vacant corner booth near a side door in South Texas used to be franchise fast food restaurant. Word restaurant should be in quotations.
After ordering breakfast special, I headed to washroom. What first caught my attention was an illegal immigrant using water base paint to cover up blood spatter and pellet holes above and all around plywood covering a hole in floor where a toilet used to sit.
In an almost satirical way, number four shot outlined area where toilet's last patron sat. As for the illegal, he just smiled and said I know nothing.
This investigator was almost tempted after washing up to ask the illegal colonist if he knew anything about trading oil base paint for water base paint with a refund.
Oh well, not my investigation; hope that's not cook's profile on wall. As for my waitress, she probably looked vigorous about ten years ago when she was in her teens. Who cares as long as service is almost good?
Experience tells me that waitress's worn out too soon body has a better heart than chamber of commerce strumpets that marry for money. Unfortunately, most of both do not know difference between a lightning bug and a shooting star.
While returning to my booth, I started scanning premise patrons. After sitting in my northwest corner booth, layout from right to left was as follows:
Corner booth directly across room, sat a chamber of commerce suit with his boy toy engaged in an unhappy animated conversation I am glad I could not hear.
Skipping two booths along wall were three stoned juveniles. One probably a drop out with his friendly sixteen year old girl friend; both scheming to ignore their awkward out of place friend who just happened to be their ride.
Moving down center isle of booths was a thirty looking forty year old bar prostitute working her sixty old client. Woman had probably been warned by some social worker or cop about leaving her kids alone as she had them with her while working.
Her twelve year old boy must not have liked watching his mother work as he kept getting up and getting unnecessary refills.
The small for her age ten year old girl, who was already wearing makeup and dressing like her mother constantly watched and listened for every sound and move her mother was making.
All the while the old man was oblivious to kids and was getting most for his investment.
Skip a booth and their were two way overweight not cheaply dressed women talking disparagingly about ugly skinny whores in the last bar they worked that kept them from going home with their true loves.
Skip one booth and directly to my left were two middle age over weight soccer dads wearing youth baseball coach uniforms. Both of their conversations were directed towards people who weren't even at their booth.
One kept trying to sell other on investing is some get rich insurance scheme; while other kept whining about politics of being chosen a youth baseball all stars coach.
As for me, I was still waiting for waitress to bring syrup instead of ketchup for my waffles.
Glancing into parking lot, I noticed a druggie putting a small revolver in his jacket while positioning a looked to be stolen bicycle. My first thought was maybe he will get nervous, loose his nerve or at least wait until I've finish breakfast and leave, before starting some ill fated robbery.
Amazing luck, shortly after potential robber stepped inside; two missionary girls came in and started offering to save souls for donations.
Eventually I got my syrup, finished, and left. Perhaps I should have tipped the missionary as she kept bicycle robber occupied till I left for a less entertaining hotel room.
It took almost two days to line up ducks one, two, and four. You the reader can review first paragraph of this dream to remember what I'm referring too.
Moving on, I was now ready to contact case's only witness. Driver behind the driver who failed to yield right of way that apparently caused accident.
Witness's words were clear and concise: Old man pulled up to stop sign, and came to a complete stop. He looked left; then turned and looked to right. He was looking straight at on coming van when he pulled right out in front of them. It was almost like it he didn't see van's lights. I'll never forget how time slowed as van exploded when it hit that old man. Next came, horrible smell of burning screaming victims. It all happened at once so there was no way I could help.
Witness voluntarily allowed me to notarize his statement; a declaration that subtlety raised question, did old man commit suicide?
My next stop would be with old man's preferably best friend or at least those who could or would talk about old man's mental condition.
Some investigators never learn easiest way to find out what witnesses know is to keep quiet and let them ramble. Old driver's best friend proved to be a career-remembering spectator.
That six foot stringy weathered decaying man appeared to have seen too much truth for anybody's short ninety years. His hands looked like they had spent a lifetime partnership with sailing ships or cattle ranches.
Still this individual did not need to be gruff as his appearance suggested he could be leaning up against a bar with a beer in one hand, and resolve problems without spilling a drop of his hard earned beer.
I informed the old driver's best friend that I was not trying to prove suicide, only figure out what happened.
Measured response by my career-remembering spectator: You don't know much about being old in America do you? I know you do not, so no need to answer.
I have a lot to recall would you like a cold beverage? Without hesitating, old driver's best friend continued. Sarita bring my guest and your boss two tall Crown on rocks. Sweet Sarita, there's a story you would probably find more interesting. She needs a place to live, and I need someone to drive me around ranch; so we both tolerate each other. Forty years ago I could have fallen in love with a woman like Sarita, just never had time or money. Now I have money there's not enough time.
My worthless family has started pretending to be nice hoping that I will leave them ranch and cash reserves. Those virtual ethical ant people are sure going to be surprised upon learning that Sarita won my death's lottery.
Don't reveal my secret, Sarita does not know and I want to claim last good turn in our relationship.
Now for your reason for being here, old driver as you call him was not suicidal case closed. Let tell you about his living experiences.
Old driver worked for same company for twenty - nine years eleven months and nineteen days before being down sized for out sourcing that meant he fell eleven days short of a full pension.
Next arrived news that corporate cartel had gotten involved in some Enron type scheme, and lost all of old driver's retirement savings and investments.
Bad news often travels in packs, as his wife's lost her health insurance because her predisposition to breast cancer raised her employer's benefit package premiums above company employment limits.
Wife while under going tests at a local hospital suffered an infection caused by improperly sterilized medical equipment. Medical centers generated infections have become one of greatest threats to older Americans needing medical attention.
After totally destroying his wife's long-term health, hospital evicted old driver from a home he and his wife had lived in for almost sixty years. Why, in lieu of paying hospital bills incurred as a result of his wife's hospital induced infection.
Next the old driver learned that only way to qualify for nursing home care for his wife who would soon be in a coma was to sell his and his wife's wedding rings which had over sixty years appreciated in value beyond the government's minimum assets limits.
It broke that old driver's heart to take back the ring he had given his bride on best day of his life. Sometime during that night the old driver's wife slipped into a coma. Old man’s suffering never seem to end as the old driver had to find part time work to buy prescription medicines to keep his wife's unconscious state pain free.
Sarita, two more Crowns on ice, for my guest and your boss.
It is Republican Party policies designed to force old people into poverty that causes some of us citizens to not think highly of Republicans. The problem with Republicans is that they have never learned that with power comes
accountability.
Any political party that controls executive, legislative, and judicial branches of government at same time is solely responsible for bad government policies. Have you ever seen movies where Nazi prison guards rip wedding rings and family heirlooms away from old women waiting to be shipped to concentration camps? Don't answer. I know you have.
What is difference in American polices which force old people to sell their rings, heirlooms, mementos, and give proceeds to government before being eligible for health care? Best I can tell the only difference is American politicians with thieving personalities do no have courage to wear uniforms. Do you know why I quit voting for Republicans after seventy years; don't try to answer, you cannot possibly know.
Republican Party has been hijacked by soul less anti conservative aristocrats motivated by unethical capitalism.
Dishonest capitalism always evolves into corporate feudalism, a polite phrase for special interest fascism. Republican leadership has become evil socialists they used to hate. Old men nearing end of their lives can say what they like: truth be known, it is doubtful that leaders of either Republican or Democratic Party are worthy of being buried in American soil.
Back to something you can use, what caused the old driver to see and not register on coming traffic. Background, companies do not offer full time jobs with benefits to men over fifty-five. Republicans will say this is not true, but they are generally ones not offering these jobs to blue or white-collar private sector middle class men.
Only available jobs for older American men are part time, minimum wage, no benefits hazardous work environments with competition from criminal immigrants and illegal immigrants.
Aristocratic Republicans have betrayed America's middle class by providing public sector full coverage no cost health benefits to illegal colonists.
Additionally ignoring foreign laborers working for less than minimum wage essentially excludes American's retired from part time employment markets. Government itself is guilty of promoting poverty to make people dependent on government. Six dollars an hour after government deductions barely nets worker five dollars an hour. A thirty hour a week part time job nets the older worker about one hundred fifty dollars a week; not enough to cover supplemental health insurance premiums.
As for hazardous working environments, this is the good part. Companies know that hiring old men with pre-existing age created health conditions reduces civil exposure to hazardous working environments. I'll guess the old driver's autopsy showed no signs of alcohol, drugs, or prescription medications.
Old driver worked part time cleaning concrete by spraying chemicals with warning labels advised only be applied when wearing protective clothing and using self contained breathing respirators.
Unfortunately old driver's employer stored chemicals in open containers in high temperature work environments and provided no safety equipment. Chemicals you need to be testing old man's blood, tissues, and brain for are: phosphoric acid, sulfuric acid, hydrofluoric acid, and mercury.
I don't know what mercury was for, but I do know the old driver told me that these chemicals were only deleted with twenty percent water when being applied. The old driver also told me that chemicals were giving him severe head and muscle aches along with black outs. To answer your last question, he had to keep working to buy his wife's painkillers for her unconscious state.
It is time for Sarita to drive me around ranch. Sarita bring me five-gallon bucket in plastic bag you are never allowed to touch for my guest and your boss. Old driver brought me bucket after it was thrown in trash at one of his job sites.
Let me wrap this up while we are waiting for Sarita: life includes unjust irony. What would you call it when generation that survived Great Depression, won World War II, rebuilt Europe and Asia, put men on moon, won Cold War without blowing up planet, and produced wealthiest republic in history; would be robbed into poverty and abandoned to nursing homes by benefactors of their generation's successes.
Entire time I was thanking old driver's best friend for his time and help; I didn't know if I was more grateful for information, or that is was time for Sarita to take the spectator for his ride. Being honest, don't think I could have held up to another tall Crown on rocks.
Some more ducks to line up:
1) Order additional chemical residue tests on old driver;
2) Surveillance footage of identical chemical container being dumped in trash by company employee and get bucket from garbage truck driver;
3) File report and ship evidence to client; and
4) Other activities as needed.
This dream is not quite over. I am not especially superstitious, but I always enjoy listening to my favorite Emerald Stars tape in route to my next assignment.
A fed looking SUV with grill flashers pulled me over just past city limits marker. Not wanting to get jammed in my vehicle, I immediately stepped out with my micro cassette recording and my concealed carry in place.
I recognized the driver from my first stop in town. He asked if I were the investigator working the multiple fatality accident. He was politely apprised that who, I worked for was none of his business.
This concerned community leader demanded I give him five-gallon bucket I had gotten from garbage man.
He was informed that I paid cash for bucket and that all sales are final. Plus I couldn't turn over bucket if I wanted too, since it had already been air expressed to its new owner.
Changing direction of conversation, I notified community leader that I wanted to thank him for lining up my last duck: I would not have known you knew how bad the risks were until you made an issue over one empty plastic bucket.
Typical response, He said that he had broken no criminal laws or had any civil liability exposure.
Felt I was taking control and decided to do a little demoralizing: I have heard, that right before people die their life flashes before their eyes.
Also been told that right before good people die, their best hopes and best memories flash before their eyes; however, when it comes to bad people, it is their greatest fears and most horrible memories that flash before their eyes.
Guess questions you need to answer; if your chemicals affected old driver's reflexes, does that make you one of the bad guys?
If old driver lost good years because of way you manage your employees, does that make you one of bad guys? Sure don't need to know what flashes before your eyes.
Not much else to say, I got back in my vehicle and left. Next assignment seemed simple enough, line up ducks for a one vehicle one fatality.
