Dear Hollywood Millionaires,
I realize you’ve got lots of drinking and shopping to do out on Melrose, or where ever else you can get “caught” by the paparazzi, but I kind of need your help. Basically, I’m writing to ask for a charitable donation for a poor family. Maybe a little Christmas Miracle from the upper crust?
We don’t live in some tiny shanty-town made of sheet metal, or in a mud hut on another continent, but we could really use some attention. See, we’re Americans who don’t fit into that tiny bracket you’re a part of. Our family of four lives in a house that’s about the size of your uber-garage. We like it just fine, but we’re having trouble paying for all the “little” stuff -you know, like electricity and groceries.
It’s December 18th and I still haven’t bought my kids any Christmas presents, because I barely made the mortgage payment this month and now that I did we’re overdrawn. We’ll get a paycheck on Friday, but unlike you west coast young adults with accountants and personal assistants -I have to constantly keep in mind that there’s another mortgage payment that’s technically due about two weeks after I made the last one (the day before our grace period ended). Besides that, about a third of the next check will be gone to pay for overdraft fees.
Then there’s the matter of bill collectors calling my phone (which will be shut off soon) because for some reason the state medical card I’m on has not paid for the three hospital visits I enjoyed in the last year. Now that I’m relatively healthy, and my second child has been born, I can face the wrath of total strangers -some from other countries- who’s sole responsibility is to threaten my already deteriorating quality of life.
Once upon a time I might have had some help from a parent, but my mother’s working third-shift in a shitty packing plant and my father passed away unexpectedly this past January. I guess if he owned every Hilton Hotel in the world I’d be even richer for it, but since he was a security guard at a hammer factory… well let’s just say we can thank him for the roof over our heads. It’s more than we had before, but it sure sucks that he couldn’t stay under it with us.
I’m feeling kind of lost here, actually, but everytime I see those VH1 shows on the “Fabulous Life” of so-and-so I struggle with feelings of frustration and misery. How can the world be so off balance? The worst part is, I feel guilty wishing for a windfall, because I know we are not the poorest family in this country. There are people even worse off than us. There are families living on the streets, out of shelters or churches.
Then I see Brittney Spears, having earned more money by her 18th birthday than I’ve ever seen in my life, and her wacky exploits with shoplifting, hit-and-run accidents, and binge drinking. How is it that this person has enough money to bail out a hundred families just like mine but instead she spends it flying to hawaii for a different flavor of Starbucks’ triple mocha frappacino?
Who ever said life was fair, right?
Well, all you Brittney’s and Paris’ and Mary Kate Olson’s out there, perhaps you could reconsider just one of those clothing items you pay $1500 or more for -since anybody can buy a knock off at TJ Max for $20- and send just a small contribution to help us in our hour of need. Hey, you could even go on the Late Show and talk about what a humanitarian you are for fighting poverty and depression right here on American soil! Then I can stop the 8 or 9 phone calls a day I get from “unknown numbers” that are a glaring reminder that everything in my life has a price tag and it can all be taken away if I don’t figure out a way to pull money out of my ass.
That is all.