Slackjawed Vagabonds

Yesterday I helped my father with his house. After laying on my back in an attic on a rolling auto shop cart, sliding through the vaulted crawlspace stringing wires and cables, I returned with him to the Drury Inn where he is staying until the renovations on his house are complete. At this hotel, dinner is served every night, along with coctails, beer, and soft bread. Unfortunately (and much to my dismay), several derelicts (of the I'm too lazy to work, drag rat variety) have decided to take advantage of the tragedy in New Orleans to get some free food and lodging. I actually heard these punk kids bragging about how they came from Omaha, or Dallas or even New York to fool FEMA and steal benefits that rightfully belong to the displaced of the big easy. They were huddled outside in a pack smoking cigarettes. One girl to five greasy young men, she had a wicked shiner on her eye. I pitied them and was repulsed by their arrogance and sloth. Their fraud weighs our system down....our already troubled system. They will (or already have) become dependent on the system of public benefits this country offers, and subsequently, they will be the first to suffer when their abuse (among other factors) helps to topple said system. I hated them last night, hated that they are of my generation, and to a great extent are representative of the sense of entitlement that many of my generation possess. Then I wondered how they came to be where they are...how they came to have the attitudes they have. They arent entirely responsible for the way they live their lives. We all are to an extent. Oh America America. Oh my generation! We are going to lose. We are losing. I am sad for it.