This is our one hundredth post since November 2010. There are so many people to thank. The oil executives, who feel that without some billions in government aid they can no longer go on drilling: The pharmaceutical companies, who have made record profits this year, because people have delayed medical treatment in the poor economy: The major corporations, that pay no tax on their profits. Many thanks to the polluters, the arms manufacturers, the war mongers and all the little people—Tom Corbett, Scott Walker, Rick Scott and others, who have turned the cutting of social services for the neediest into an entertainment. To Sarah Palin, Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh and others who think that saying something twice makes it true. And, to all who feel that taxation, of even the very rich, is the great Satan and that promoting the common good is missing a “for me.”
Phil Ochs wrote “There but for Fortune” in 1963. For me, it has always been better than a month of Sundays. For all the talk of inspiration and perspiration as the road to “success,” there is much to be said for a long and strong run of good luck.
There But For Fortune.
Show me a prison, show me a jail,
Show me a prisoner whose face has gone pale
And I’ll show you a young man with so many reasons why
And there but for fortune, may go you or I
Show me the alley, show me the train,
Show me a hobo who sleeps out in the rain,
And I’ll show you a young man with so many reasons why
There but for fortune, may go you or go I — you and I.
Show me the whiskey stains on the floor,
Show me the dunken man as he stumbles out the door,
And I’ll show you a young man with so many reasons why
There but for fortune, may go you or go I — you and I.
Show me the country where bombs had to fall,
Show me the ruins of buildings once so tall,
And I’ll show you a young land with so many reasons why
There but for fortune, go you or go I — you and I.
You and I,
There but for fortune, go you or go I — you and I.