American Dream

dictionary with letter A

American dream: (n) the traditional social ideals of the U.S., such as equality, democracy and material prosperity.

I think the American dream has been over-analyzed by Freudian pundits and politicians who plan on using their own interpretation to bring about the enactment of their particular will.

I’m not so sure I agree with the Republicans that every American wants a gun.

Likewise, the more liberal view of the Democrats concerning giving people license to do whatever they want to under the guise of civil rights doesn’t achieve much more than an emotional traffic jam.

I’ll tell you what I think the American dream is: Hunk, Chunk, Junk.

I think the power of freedom in this country, with the intelligent use of capitalism, enables me to go out and get my hunk. I should have every right to do that. If it doesn’t infringe on the needs of others or hurt my fellow-man and woman, I should be applauded for my efforts and be given a barn to store my bounty.

Then from that hunk, I should get my chunk. This is probably where people will disagree with me. Lots of folks think they need every single dime they earn to cover their own personal indebtedness. If that’s the case, you’ll spend your life pretty miserable. I should be able to break off a chunk from my hunk that will make me happy and keep me in grits, gravy, gravel and glee.

What remains from my hunk actually becomes my junk. Things I don’t need. Things I don’t want anymore. It’s a startling but true statement that if everybody in America emptied their attics and garages of all the things they haven’t used in the past six months, and gave them to their neighbors, 75% of the personal needs of others would be fulfilled.

It’s not treasure if moths and rust are corrupting it and it’s being stolen by time and depreciation.

Get rid of your junk.

Bless someone else. They won’t think it’s junk.

They will treasure it as their hunktheir American dream.

 

 

Abdomen

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abdomen: n. the part of the body of a vertebrate containing the digestive organs–the belly. It is bounded by the diaphragm and the pelvis.

I can certainly see why it didn’t catch on. There is something too bizarre about “trust your abdomen.” I think that’s why we ended up with “gut.”

But you see, I’ve always found trust your gut to be VERY poor advice. My abdomen–or if you want to be “street-talkin'” in your ways–gut–is often misleading to my own good. My gut tells me to continue in fantasies and prejudices that were ingrained in me before I had a chance to be more discretionary about what was allowed in my abdomen.

My gut is my predictable. And truthfully, friends, my predictable is not my best. My best mingles what I know with what I need to know with how dumb I am and how willing I am to get smarter. Abdomen logic rarely factors in our own depravity.

I also don’t trust my abdomen–or gut–to lead me in the paths of righteousness concerning good nutrition, health and longevity. For instance, last night my abdomen desired a piece of cake. I haven’t had a piece of cake for a long time, so I was a little surprised when my gut hatched the whim. My abdomen, with its appetite, joined in cooperation with my gut instinct, with ITS great ability to rationalize my faults, and tempted me to not only eat a small sliver of cake but to also pursue a much more humongous hunk of the gunk.

So you see, my gut has too many opinions and too big of an appetite to be trusted or allowed to run much of anything in my pursuit of sanity.

So here’s to the abdomen–with a caveat: make sure that your gut digests all the information available AND that it does not decide exactly what and how much you’re going to eat.

Otherwise, your abdomen will too soon make you belly up.