Soon, Florida. Soon…

The US Government has done it. They have finally declared war on the elderly. Really, it is about time. Our country has waged wars on drugs, poverty, terrorism, and who knows what else. Usually, when the US declares war on a “thing” the nation does not do well. Except for killing people, we do that with great skill. However, the war on drugs brought more drugs. The war on terrorism gave us Homeland Security. The war on poverty successfully brought more people to poverty. At least more voting people to poverty.

According to President Obama, the US may not be able to guarantee many Social Security checks after August third. The majority of articles I have read seem to placing the blame for this squarely on the shoulders of the Barak-meister General. It is a good thing that the US government consists only of one branch. If we had a Legislative Branch, and called it something like, hmmm…how about Congress?, that body could come up with some ideas for laws and then Mr. President could either approve the law or send it back to have it reconsidered. We could call this a Balance of Power or a Share-y Law Thingy! What? You mean that the gubbmint already works like that here? My bad, I thought this whole budget thing was the responsibility of one person.

However, that is of no consequence. Whether this is the President’s, Congress’, or Ali Sheedy’s fault, the end result is the same: War has finally been declared on the the elderly of the United States. This should come of no surprise. After Florida got such a bad rap from the elderly and the confused mental states when voting back during Bush v. Gore, the politcos have set their sites on the elderly. Not all of them, only the ones who are in need of Social Security. Independently wealth old folks and politicians are okay: the former factory workers, soldiers, and people who built this country are the ones who are the problem.

Not only does this segment eat up a lot of dough in government benefits, but they drive horribly, tell the same stories repeatedly, and address everyone as “young” something. Florida was the last straw. After retiring and moving to Florida, a state evolved that has next to no native residents (save the naked hotties in the South), and the current residents being confused, elderly voters. Indeed, the last steps leading to war was Florida. The Republicans wanted those old timers out because they had become election stealing, brandy-snifter-by-the-fire, carpet bagging, thieves, and the Democrats had become the put out victims of the right wing conspiracy, the whiny crybaby now martyred on the cross of political injustice. The Greatest Generation Must Go!

Wild-ish Cracker Cow

After the ascension of The Obam-a-nator, it was time to make the move. Instead of cutting funds on a war that should have started to be over when Osama was whacked, cap spending and cut those social programs to the elderly. If done when Barak is President, the last thing the elderly will do before they die off is vote a Republican in to replace to Mr. O because their suffering is his fault. He cut the programs. The Democrats can hold on if they can convince the suffering oldies that money would be available if the Republicans were insisting on sending their grandkids to fight over in that hot desert. With who is to blame thoroughly confused, the elderly will all finally be done in by the sudden shock and awe of disregard from the once faithful and protective government. The population of Florida will drop by seventy percent and there will be plenty of room for younger people to move, find jobs, and do things that do not involve shuffleboard or pill schedules. The voting irregularities of Florida will be replaced by the apathetic non-voting influx of misguided thirty somethings who spend too much time living in parents’ basements to realize that all of Florida is not beach and that by moving to central Florida, it does not mean that you will see a lot of semi-naked chicas (you will see a lot of wild-like cows and cowmen called “crackers.”

Be it Republican-led treachery or Democrat-fed do-nothing-ness, it works for me. At least it did work for me. All will be working fine as soon as the Foundation’s legal team has settled a small issue between the County and a ourselves. The problem all started when I was pulled over last week because I braked a little suddenly to avoid killing a squirrel. Apparently, the cop riding the ass of my Alpha Romeo hearse was not of a mind to save a squirrel from being squished by a hearse and he pulled me over.

People react funny to hearses, and even funnier to one that has been crafted out of an Alpha Romeo. When the officer came to the window of my vehicle, he asked for my information and walked back to his car. At that time, I noticed a little light on the dashboard. The light was indicating that there was a problem with the air circulation system in the coffin (read on, this will make sense). Swearing to myself, I got out of the car, walked around to the back and open the rear door. Of course, this made the officer nervous, ever more nervous when he noticed the coffin in the back. He was out of his car before I could reconnect the air flow tube that must have come disconnected during the squirrel evasion. I would need to address the faulty connections to my technical people.

Officer: Stop! Let me see your hands and step away from the vehicle.

Me: Here are my hands, but I need to reconnect this tube or else Ms. Gargula may suffocate.

Officer: What?!

Me: There! All connected. What can I do for you officer? My apologies if my coffin check made you anxious, but I wanted to make sure that my resident was comfortable and safe.

Officer: You funeral types are so weird. Do you know why I stopped you?

Me: I assume that my sudden braking almost caused you to sodomize my hearse with your cruiser, and you were able to stop suddenly because you are a bottom and I am a top and the wreck would not make sense.

Officer: Well, yes. I mean, no! I mean, you did brake suddenly. Have you had anything to drink this afternoon?

Me: Not yet. But I will be having some absinthe soon.

The conversation was then interrupted by a knock from inside the coffin in the hearse. In my haste to attend to the policeman, I did not attach the air connection properly and Ms. G. was signalling that she needed to breathe. I needed to securely attach that tube or else Ms. Gargula would be meeting her maker sooner than she expected.

Officer: Was that a knock?! Is there someone alive in there?

Me: Not for long if you do not let me re-attach that tube. By now, the indicator light informing Ms. Gargula that her oxygen is being depleted and will be exhausted in one hour has come on. Fortunately, the power systems are fine, at least she has light and some entertainment.

Officer: You open that and let her out of there! You can’t keep live people in coffins.

Me: There is only one person in the coffin and this is completely legal, consensual, and really none of your business. Now, if you would let me re-attach…

Officer: You stay right there. You say this is consensual?

Me: I have “Power of Inter-y” for Ms. Gargula.

Officer: You mean “Power of Attorney, correct? And what does that have to do with having a live human being trapped in a coffin?!

Me: No, I meant “Power of Inter-y.” I have a binding legal document stating that she is to be buried in that very coffin immediately after death. I have a clever team of lawyers. Man, this is the new Gold Rush. We can thank Washington for this situation, their holding Social Security ransom has unleashed a new commercial enterprise. That is exactly what is the destiny of this, poor thing: she is terrified and took solace in premature burial. That is the case with the elderly these days with the panic generated by the recent Social Security woes and all. The old folks are freaking out about not having any money, health care, or a place to live!

So, they have come to the Foundation and requested that they be able to live in a coffin as a part of our “Coffins and Burials for Homes Program.” It is a great deal, actually. The coffins are fully tricked out with telephones, cable television, feeding ports, and IV drips for their meds. The more technologically savvy have opted for WiFi so they can communicate with family over the Internet. As for that unpleasant bathroom issue, well a system of catheters and various “-ostomies” have under management. In exhange, they deed their properties and possessions over to The Foundation. Upon the death of the client/resident, we embalm, arrange the funeral, and provide the preferred means of internment.

Officer: This is outrageous! I have never heard of such a thing. Either you let that woman out of there, or I’ll do it myself under the pretense of investigating a crime in progress.

Me: I am sorry, but opening that coffin would be a violation of the residents contractual rights. I cannot violate that Client Privilege without just cause. What we need to do now, officer, is reconnect this air connection…

Officer: Step away from the vehicle.

Me: Okay, but I must inform you that I object to this illegal search.

Officer: You just keep quiet and stand there where I can see you, don’t make me handcuff you.

Saying that, the Officer began searching for a means to open the coffin. He tried the lid, but Ms. Gargula had locked it shut, fearing that someone would come and try to steal the items from her Precious Moments collection that she wanted to have buried with her.

Me: Please do not pull on those tubes, some of them are intravenous and you may cause the resident serious pain.

Officer: I told you to shut up! This is your last warning.

Then he noticed a series of buttons on the side. The drawings next to the button gave him an idea of what the buttons were for; there was one for food, one for waste retrieval, etc. He decided that since the red button isolated from all of the others must be the mechanism to open the coffin.

Me: Please, do not push that red button!

The officer sneered at me and pushed the button. He fell away from the car as he heard a pump start, one loud scream from the coffin, and a couple of knocks. He immediately noticed the sudden silence, except for the nearly perceptible humming of pumps and fluid. He looked at me and was about to draw his weapon, and noticed that I had not moved from my spot. Rather I looked from the coffin, to him, and to from him to the coffin again.

Me: Now, you have done it. You started the auto-embalming sequence.

Officer: Well, shut it down! We can save her?!

Me: No, not now. Ms. Gargula was deathly afraid of zombies. Moreso afraid of becoming a zombie. She requested that we install Anti-Zombie precautions in her coffin. As soon as that button was tripped, metal spikes were driven through the base of her skull and her pre-frontal cortex. That scream was more than likely caused by the entrance of orifice plugs immediately before the spiking. If it matters to you, I doubt she suffered…much.

Hearing that was enough for the copper and he decided to call the matter in and have my vehicle impounded, which my attorneys were able to prevent as the Habeas Corpus of the corpse was not at the leisure of the County…or some shit my lawyers were saying. So, while I was able to leave with my car, and my former resident, our rental program has been put on hiatus pending a review of the legality or ethics of the issue. The Foundation lawyers believe that we shall be successful in our case: the government has already declared war on the elderly, at least we are helping them find peace until the end…

4 comments

  1. America idolizes children and youth. Which is why you have women who are 60 getting surgery and trying to look 20. Age and wisdom are not valued here, at all. That’s why we have sayings like “50 is the new 30!” and why I never tell anyone how old I am who doesn’t already know or who is younger than me.

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