lbo-talk-digest V1 #4359

Leslilake1 at Leslilake1 at
Thu May 17 20:29:04 PDT 2001

Which reminds me of an anecdote my stepfather told me at 84, the year he died (he was born in the 1910's): When he was a kid, he and some of his friends had come across some soapbox speaker talking about how the millionaires were stealing from the working class, or something along those lines, and shouldn't we all get together to change things... He and his friends had heckled the guy, saying something like "Shut up, old man, we're going to be millionaires too..." He grew up to be a grade school principal. Then he said to me, "While you're working, you never really have time to think about things; when you're retired you do. I just don't see how this system can continue." Stupidly, I didn't ask him to explain himself. All his life he'd seemed so much the organization man; I was sort of dumbfounded. He died within a few months of the conversation.



In a message dated 01-05-17 18:21:28 EDT, you write:

<< A real incident to illustrate. Fifteen years ago, I was selling a socialist

newpaper in the poorer districts of San Jose. I knocked on the door of a

run-down basement apartment, a Miller-guzzling male dressed in dirty jeans

and an undershirt opened the door and allowed me to enter. The apartment

was of the black-velvet paintings and apple crates variety: it bespoke of

various kinds of impovrishement. I announced that I was selling a socialist

paper and asked him if he was interested in buying a copy.

"No." He said, "I don't believe in socialism. I'm a capitalist."

"You are?" I queried looking around his apartment, "Then, where's your


That stopped him only for a second,

"My body," he replied, "My body is my capital."


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