Unemployed Larry – Health Care, Or Not To Health Care?

Hot dog, it’s Larry Begonia and a glass of lemonade. How are ya? Me, I’m doing just fine. Still no luck on the job search front—and the last word I heard from my family was a subpoena for child support—but I’ve got this here blog and my health and those are both worth every quarter!

Now, when I say I’ve got my health, I mean I’ve got my good health, and I’ve got my not-so-good health. Good health: ten fingers, nine toes (fishing accident—it’s a mackerel of a story!), a brain, a belly, and a heart. On the flip side of that temperamental coin: tennis elbow, golfer’s knee, and a bladder infection that won’t quit. My ticker’s a-ok; Dr. Akers chalks it up to my “sunny disposition.” He says that many a Joe or Bill in my current state—broke and lonely—would be reaching for the whiskey, cheese wheels and antacids. Well, I tell him, I write a lot of letters. That passes the time.

This health care conundrum the President’s facing sure is a doozy. I count my lucky stars I don’t have his job. Almost better off unemployed! I thought about writing Obama a letter, give him my two-cents, but it turns out I haven’t got a darn penny. I had only one thought on the matter—that doctors should work for free, like parks volunteers–but Dr. Akers met the proposal with apprehension and a “Well…”

Let’s break it down. Democrats are after a public health care option, while Republicans maintain that universal health care leads to inefficiencies. Me? I’m torn. Thinking about this glass of lemonade in my hand, I’d very much like to have lemonade whenever I’m quenched for thirst, but what if the universal lemonade just tastes downright unpleasant? That scares me! And I don’t necessarily want the glass of lemonade my neighbor Paul drinks, and not because he’s black—I just wonder if he uses as much sweetener as I do. It’s all very confusing.

Because I couldn’t solve health care for Obama, I decided to do the next best thing, and write a different letter. Here it is:

–

Dear Plaxico Burress,

What’s the opposite of “congratulations”? Whatever it is, that’s what I wish to say regarding your recent criminal sentencing. Prison! I’d like to give you a good old hug. You look like you need one.

Now, I don’t care for football (too violent), and I particularly do not care for the New York Giants (also too violent, I imagine), but I considered taking to the streets in protest after hearing the sad news. Two years incarceration? For shooting yourself? That’s what we call adding insult to injury here in Rockhurst, PA. If we all went to prison for every stupid thing we did to ourselves, well, we’d all be in prison! Heck, just think of it. Hard labor for a paper cut! Heavy fines over stubbed toes! What’s next, lethal injection for not sexually satisfying your wife and inevitably driving her into the arms of your dentist? Yikes!

I’ll tell you a story. My wife Candy had just up and left me, piling Larry Jr. and little Bitty into a U-Haul along with all of our furniture and most of our glassware. Well I’m just so, so…MAD: no other word for it. (And I don’t use that word lightly.) I borrow my neighbor Paul’s fishing gear, drive to the lake, and rent a rowboat. Now, I’ve never fished a day in my life, and I realize today that a line and hook can be as lethal as a semi-automatic weapon—for the fish, I mean. So I throw the line in, and wait. And wait. And I’m getting nothing, I mean nothing. I’m just about ready to pack it in and head back home, but then I remember there’s nobody at home waiting for me, so why bother. I debate committing suicide, but I end up resolving that such a thing would go against my personality. I’m Bright as Butter Begonia, for plum sake! So I reel the line in, but it won’t give—it’s caught something! I pull and pull and pull and I think my neck’s gonna break, but finally I hurl this BEAST of a fish onto the rowboat. It’s bigger than a Thanksgiving turkey! And it’s flapping around and trying to breathe, chomping its mouth and wouldn’t you know it—the ninny chomps down on my toe. Second in command, the piggy that stays home. And this ninny’s got TEETH.

I ended up losing that toe, but what’s more—I could’ve gone to jail. Not for losing the toe, but because Paul thought I stole his fishing gear and called the police. Anyhowdy, I could be in just the same situation as you, and all I can think is, darn. Close call, Begonia. I wonder too: if you were white, perhaps you’d be a-okay, Plaxico. Food for thought.

So maybe my “what was he thinking!” story will give you a little comfort as you read this in your prison cell. Maybe it won’t. But good luck to you.

Peace brother,
Larry Begonia

–

As a white man, I know full well that Plaxico and Obama and my neighbor Paul are different people, despite all being black. But hopefully I did something nice for Plaxico, even though I couldn’t fix health care for Obama, and even though Paul is still pickled irate with me over the missing fisherman’s gear.

Adios for now “muchachos”,
Larry Begonia

Unemployed Larry – Dear Mark Zuckerberg

Hey Gang! It’s me, Larry Begonia. As you may know, I’ve been unemployed for, oh gosh, close to four months? That long already? Hoo-ey! Hard to gage the time with the wife and kids up and gone. They were the ones with the watches!

It’s been real tough trying to stay in touch with my kids, Larry Jr. and Little Candy (seems Big Candy discontinued their cellular phone service—don’t blame her, we were long overdue with the payments), so I asked myself, “Larry, what are the kids doing these days?” And I answered myself, “Larry, they’re on The Facebook!”

So I called up Jimmy Triller from next door, and he gave me a few pointers (thanks again, Jimmy!). Taught me how to “tag” and “de-tag” and “friend” and “de-friend”—but we all know, a friend of Larry Begonia’s is a friend for a lifetime, so I don’t think I’ll be doing much de-friending, myself. Always nice to have the option, though.

I’ll copy and paste my page here, but you should really check it out on The Facebook. And maybe even “friend” me, too, while you’re at it. ;)

After I uploaded the whole darn thing, Jimmy called me up and told me that the “Interested in” question up in Basic Information indicates “sexual preference.” Gosh, I thought it meant “Who do you find interesting, males or females?” I thought it sounded odd, and a bit of a set-up for sexism. I find many males interesting and many females interesting (and many men uninteresting and women uninteresting, too.) Who knew it meant “interested in to date“! That’s sure confusing. There should really be some sort of User’s Guide for The Facebook. Help a guy out. Don’t want to make a cyber faux pas, heck no.

Which got me thinking. That Mark Zuckerberg sure must be a smart fellow to come up with a webpage like The Facebook. Sure smart, but a real young guy. I bet he’d appreciate a word or two of advice from a fellow who’s been around the Home Depot block (my power-walking route!) a time or two. So I wrote him a letter. I’ll copy and paste it here.

—

Dear Mark Zuckerberg,

Hey there! I’m Larry Begonia, former financial planner with Merrill Lynch, but don’t hold that against me!

I’m new to The Facebook scene and had a thought. See, it’s hard for me to stay in touch with my kids now that the wife’s relocated them and has yet to inform me where in God’s green earth they are, and I know there’s a good many hard-working, well-meaning Dads just like myself in a similar predicament. Now, I’ve tried to “friend” Larry Jr. and Little Candy, but they have yet to “accept my friendship request.” (Must be some faulty Internet where they are.) I can’t even look at my own kids’ The Facebook profiles! Seems downright unfair.

Here’s my idea: create a system for parents—and ONLY parents, there’s a ton of creep-o’s out there—allowing them to look at their kids’ The Facebook webpages without their kids needing to accept the friendship requests. I’d sure like to know the latest in their young little lives—heck, I’d like to know where they’re living!

Once you create this “application,” as I’m told it’s called, us parents could provide our kids’ social security codes—had ‘em memorized the moments they were issued back in 1994 and 1998!—thereby ensuring a safe way to track our kids down.

Let me know what you think, son—and I hope you don’t mind me calling you “son.” You remind me of a younger version of myself, from what I can tell from your Wikipedia page.

And allow me to “plug” myself here, too, while we’re at it. I see that you have many an advertisement on The Facebook, which means the bucks must be rolling in. As a young fellow, I can imagine that this is all very confusing and overwhelming. What to do with the money, where to put the money, how to think about the money… All great questions. Sounds like you need a financial planner to help with the answers. Give me a call, any time.

Call me “Friend”!
Larry Begonia

—

Mailed that puppy off not three minutes ago. Expect to hear from him soon.

Thanks again for the “Interested in” advice, Jimmy. Can you imagine me as a homosexual? I sure can’t!

Fixing myself a bowl of oatmeal now—got to love the Quaker Oats. You ever notice how even after you eat a whole bowl of oatmeal, you’re hungry again not a half hour later? Not altogether satisfying, I’d say.

‘til next time,
Larry Begonia

Unemployed Larry – Dear President Obama

Hello again, Cyber Surfers!

Larry Begonia here. Remember me? I’m the financial planner from Merrill Lynch—well, former financial planner from Merrill Lynch? I started a blog after the wife and kids left me two weeks ago Tuesday?

And what a week it’s been! Hoo-ey, huh? First Yankee star Alex Rodriguez tests positive for steroids six years ago, then super-swimmer Mikey Phelps is caught on camera taking a “hit” off a “bong” (Thanks for the lingo lesson, Jimmy!), and finally President Obama’s wacky stimulus bill passes in Congress. I mean, is everyone in America high on illegal drugs? C’mon, people!

Sorry for the frustration there, friends. I just sure hate seeing good hardworking folks make unwise, uninformed decisions. Sure chaps my hide raw, it sure does.

Which is why I have just this minute decided to pen our newly elected President a letter. Put that noggin to good use, the ole Begonia way!

—

Dear Mr. President Obama,

First of all, congratulations on your new position as arguably the most powerful man in the world. Boy, what a mind trip that must be! I know when I was named branch manager of Merrill Lynch right here in Rockhurst, I felt just like Leonard DiCapri in The Titanic: king of the world.

It is as a financial planner that I write you, Mr. President. Now, are you aware that $789 billion is quite a large sum of money? That’s seven hundred and eighty nine billion one-dollar-meals at McDonald’s—my boy Larry Jr. would die a happy twelve-year-old with all those McNuggets. But seriously, all those one-dollar-meals could feed a couple whole starving countries; makes you think. And wouldn’t we all like to feed the hungry? Sadly, that’s a luxury we just can’t afford at this juncture.

Call me a fiscal conservative, but these fifty states are steeped in debt, my friend, and I never did buy much into the old “spend money to make money” jargon. Sure, these colors won’t run—but mostly because they’re plum pooped. Ask any fellow on skid row—being on the dole ain’t no picnic in the park with George.

Now, as a financial planner for Merrill Lynch, my job is/was to determine how a business could afford to achieve its goals by setting what we call in the financial world, a budget. If America were my client, I’d ask, “America, what are your goals?” Presumably America would respond, “Retain status as the world’s most elite superpower.”

How do we do this?
-Military
-Industry
-Television

And those three areas are the ONLY three areas I’d write into the budget. Everything else is superfluous.

Health care? Survival of the fittest: Darwin.
Education? It takes a village to raise a child: African proverb and Hillary Clinton.
Environmental protection? All the leaves are green: The Mamas and the Papas.

It boils down to this: you think creating jobs will jump-start the economy, but I say… What economy? It’s not working a lick right now and is hardly worth saving, so lets toss it out the window and begin fresh! This is what Merrill Lynch is doing currently here in Rockhurst, I’m told.

Let me put it this way: if you take everything away from a man with nothing, what’s he left with? Exactly. Now apply that to the country at large, and you’ll smell what I’m stepping in.

I know this plan of mine takes real “kahonas” to see through, but if anyone can do it, you’re the man, dog! And you will certainly need a financial planner to retool that budget, so do remember Larry Begonia. Goodness knows I sure could use the work!

Good luck, and see you at Wrigley Field. Go Cubs!

To the beginning of a beautiful friendship,
Larry Begonia

—

I recall now that President Obama is a White Sox fan, but I don’t really feel up to correcting my error. I’ve already copy and pasted it into Microsoft Word, printed it off, and called the courier service. Hopefully the President won’t take it as a passive-aggressive jab.

Microsoft Word’s spell-check believes that by “kahonas” I meant “khans,” “kimonos,” “kalongs,” “khan’s,” or “Khan’s.” Just goes to show you how wrong some poor folk can be.

Have you ever noticed that about twenty-five minutes after eating a bowl of oatmeal, you’re hungry again?

This week I better pick up some groceries. Otherwise I’ll soon need a belt to keep my pants on. Too bad there aren’t many uses for a belt.

‘til next time,
Larry Begonia

MEET: Unemployed Larry – Dear TV Execs

Hey there, Cyber World!

Larry Begonia here. I’m a financial planner for Merrill Lynch—well, I was, that is, until I got laid off back in November. Now I know what you’re thinking. “Oh gosh, poor Larry! How will he support his wife and kids?” Don’t worry, folks; they left last Tuesday.

Now that I got a bunch of new time on my hands, I thought, why not give a “Web log” the ole Larry Begonia whirl? Everyone’s got one—a “Web log,” I mean. (Not everyone’s got the ole Larry Begonia whirl. At least I sure hope not!) So I called up little Jimmy Triller from next door (Hey there, Jimmy!) to teach me that tech stuff (Thanks again, Jimmy!), and it seems I’m good to go. So here I go!

This morning I woke up—good start, alright!—made some oatmeal—love that Quaker Oats oatmeal in the morning—flipped on the tube to see what the View ladies had to say—not much, big surprise—ate my oatmeal—delicious, thank you for asking—and fell asleep. Then I woke up ‘round three-thirty and got to thinking. If there were some damn good stuff on the tube, I might not be falling asleep like I am. Then I got to thinking some more. Maybe the entertainment industry is in as dire straits as the world financial market. Maybe they’ve been forced to cut back, too.

Well, there must be money to be made, right? Hel-LO! New shows are needed for this new economic climate! Everyone’s cutting back. And who’s got the ideas? Me, Larry Begonia. So I pulled out my kid Larry Jr.’s old Macintosh lap computer (don’t know why he left the darn thing—cost me one hot penny, used or not), and penned me a letter to the powers that be.

I’ll copy and paste it here:

—

Dear Mr. Sumner Redstone, Mr. Rupert Murdoch, and Mr. Ted Turner:

First of all, let me say that I admire each of you greatly. I have tried to utilize your shared rule-by-an-iron-fist tactics both in the workplace and at home, with varying success. Only an incentive to try harder!

I come to you with fantastic news! Well, first I have bad news. Television has rabies. How do I know this? It’s the economy, friends! You’re probably struggling during this time of financial hardship just as I am—well, maybe not you personally, but you can sure as heck imagine. Television production is expensive, I bet, and with the dollar what it is, you may find yourselves holding many pulled plugs. What if I were to tell you that the key to your continued successes lay in the concept of merging.  (“Merging” is a term we financial planners use in the financial planning world.) Still with me?

Take two successful shows, mash them together, and you shave off the cost of ONE WHOLE SHOW! All together, that’s HALF YOUR BUDGET! I’ve taken the initiative of coming up with a few ideas myself. Call them “pitches,” if you will.

#1 30 Rock of Love
Reality game show (love those!) in which Bret Michaels picks men for Liz Lemon to date, and then we see what happens! That hilarious Tracy Jordan can pop in now and then with his two cents—something like “Uh-uh, girlfriend!”—and then leave. We’ll get  that funny Jack Donaghy in the mix, too; maybe he creates the wacky challenges, makes the fellows jump through hoops. Can you imagine the hilarious situations?

#2 The Ghost-Dog Whisperer
Jennifer Love Hewitt plays a newlywed with the ability to communicate with the earthbound spirits of recently deceased dogs and sends their important messages to their living owners. Cesar Millan plays her sidekick, and offers dog-training tips at optimal intervals. Dramatic AND educational!

#3 Cups
Well now, this isn’t a merging like the others, but a reinvention, if you will. Take the concept behind Cops, and apply it to a paper goods store. One location, minimal crew, no gas money for driving around. Gold!

This will sure help you get started, but PLEASE do not hesitate to call me if you need more ideas. I’ve got loads! I’ve also recently become unemployed, so I could sure use the activity, not to mention any compensatory funds as you deem fit. But if that’s not in your budget at this time, no worries there, friends!

Good luck, and see you at the picture shows!

Happy trails,
Larry Begonia

—

Printed off and mailed out the sucker just twenty minutes ago, and then I thought, “I oughta try my itching-for-work hand at a Web log!” and then Jimmy came over and set this sucker up, and then I sat down and wrote this entry, and now I’m writing it as we speak!

I’m considering making a sandwich. There’s not much in the fridge since Candy left, but Larry Begonia’s been known to turn a can of beans into a feast.

‘til next time,
Larry Begonia