Columbus Day, the second Monday in October, is coming up. Normally the only people who celebrate it hereabouts would be postal and city workers. What does it mean to me? The parking meters will be free and one day will pass without a credit card offer. Nice one, Columbus, sailed across the Ocean Blue to give all the Lovely Ritas, and bankers, one day off.
But on this Monday bells will ring out from church steeples all over the land. "Thank goodness," people will be saying, "the crisis has been averted, we are not as one to be plunged into a pension-less void. We will not be reduced to holding cardboard signs outside compounds of bushy cash hoarders, "Will shine your apples for food."
For, yeah verily, this weekend my sister, a woman who entered married life carrying all her belongings in a suitcase and who hasn't bought a thing since, the last non-consumer on the planet, this hold-out has announced she intends to buy a couch. Call the newspapers. Cancel police leave. Use grant money to turn out the cavalry. Escort her home with a full multiplier effect, sirens going, flashing lights abounding. On Tuesday our shares will rebound and we will look round, wondering whom to thank.
Send notes to my care. I shall pass them on to the last true saver on the earth.
David Ritchie, wondering if there's something to this Santayana feller after all in Portland, Oregon ------------------------------------------------------------------ To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off, digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html
