It’s time for me to weigh in on some current events.  This “occupy” movement intrigues me.  And I agree with it.  I always have.  Well, except for the alleged rapes and murders in the occupied campgrounds.  But, you know.  A few bad apples, right?

I remember as a child feeling that things were just unfair.  Why did the Mason family up the block have a nice two-story house with a perfectly manicured lawn while my family lived in the only rental in the neighborhood?  You know, the one story dump with a Jacksonville, Florida sand spur garden instead of a lawn.  Why did those who lived in gated homes on Richmond Street have tennis courts and pools, while I had to learn to play basketball by throwing wadded up socks through a bent and rounded coat hanger jammed into the top of my brother’s bedroom door?  How come the Masons and the Richmond Street guys got to shop at the Rexall at the mall, while my family hung out at the Pic N Save discount drugstore on Normandy Boulevard?  It simply was not fair.

Of course, I was just a kid back then.  And some of my role models had names like, Ozzie, Harriet, Ward and June.  And it was unfair to me back then that David and Ricky and Wally and Theodore had the good lives in the beautiful houses in the wonderful neighborhoods while I was the neighborhood outcast in the rental unit on Beverly Avenue.

I really did feel terribly trapped back then.  Status seemed to define one in the ‘60s.  I saw no way of breaking through all of that and into a world of yacht clubs and backyard tennis courts and happy and content times.  And I held within me a great deal of hate for all who had broken through. 

My despair back then when I was a just a child has long since faded away.  The true “blue bloods” of Jacksonville - the Yacht Clubbers and lawn tennis folks -  have, for the most part, died out.  And for the most part they died out seeing very blurred lines between their later year statuses and those of the non-Mason/Richmond Avenue variety.  And long before the blue bloods moved on, I became more comfortable with who I was and am and from where I came.  Things just changed.  I grew up.  And I, for the most part, am content.

Nevertheless, I am proud these days of being one of the 99-percenters.  And I stand by those in the trenches fighting on behalf of otherwise contented folks like myself.  Now, I’m a bit too old and otherwise occupied with more important things than to join them in the parks and streets and abandoned buildings and such.  But I stand behind them 100 percent on the unfairness of life issue.  Believe me.  I do.

Now the problem is, what occupies much of my time these days is watching television.  Actually, watching TV always has.  I grew up with it.  I studied it in college.  Most of my career was in television production and television related fields.  Other than family, friends, sports and God, television is the most important thing in my life.  And I get sports and preaching from my standard definition TV.

This is unscientific, but I’ve run the numbers here.  Of all the people I know, I’m estimating that maybe 40% of them own High Definition televisions.  Good for them, I say.  I am especially happy for those High-Def blue bloods who invite me over to watch a game or two.  But my number running tells me that only 1% of those I know own TWO High Definition wide screen televisions.  Why the hell should they own two of them?  Especially when I own none! 

My friend Charlie is one of the High Def one percenters.  He has two.  Sure, he shares food and beverage with us when we watch sports at his place.  But I have food and beverage at my place.  So.  The next time I watch a University of North Carolina sporting event at his house, I am staying and occupying.  I will not leave until he gives me one of his televisions!

It’s only fair, you know.