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I’ve got to admit, at my age standing in a line under a hot August sun pretty much wipes me out. But I persevered and was rewarded with some fresh fruit and veggies at the food pantry yesterday.
The majority of the folks waiting with me were younger than I, most somewhere in their 50s I would guess. A few looked to be over 70. And I did see my sis-in-law. She’s had her hours cut at work again. Nothing to be done for it. This once dynamic, industrial city has a gi-nourmous glut of restaurants and one by one they have just about been crushed by the latest economic collapse.
I can’t help but wonder, if Mitt Romney or any one of his potential running mates (a real stellar crew that lot) had happened to pass by while a group of Americans stood in line waiting for the pantry doors to open, what emotions would the picture have invoked in their minds?
Empathy? Sadness? Anger? Disgust?
Or would they, as they have done so often over the years, spread their magical invisibility cloak over any scene that might prove otherwise and continue to proclaim that poverty in America is self inflicted, or better yet, a myth promulgated by the Left for the sole purpose of making the hard working rich look bad.