The Value of “Born Poor” – The Beatle Persepective

The Value of “Born Poor”

by L. J. Martin

The longer the occupy a-holes go on with their miserable sucking up to George Soros for an occasional hot meal, the more amused I become.  If they knew how much they entertained me I really think they’d go onto either finding a job or the far more serious bombing of a building.  Of course that would require real “risk” on their part, and risk is what that one percent does, or doesn’t do, that separates them from the so-called ninety-nine percent.

Having been born poor (of course we didn’t know we were) and being raised in county housing with a rent of eight dollars a month, I’m not terribly sympathetic with those protestors in their two hundred dollar sneakers and jeans with holes in the knees and butts (designer holes, not honest work earned holes), and their four days of beard emulating movie personalities, certainly not emulating men too busy to shave: men working on the farms or slogging across Afghanistan dodging bullets and rockets.

I love this article from which quotes a book by Olivia Harrison, sister of the Beatle George Harrison:

In today’s excerpt – the relentless Nazi bombing of Liverpool left it scarred and resource starved. Out of this deprivation, its citizens – including young George Harrison and his friends – developed a sense of humor, a work ethic, and the hope of escape:

“There was an honesty that we had, a very simple, naive honesty, and I think that had a lot to do with where we came from. The people up there have a certain naive honesty and humour. They say you have to have humour to live in a place like that. Everybody who comes out of Liverpool thinks they are comedians, and we were no exception. That kept us going.”   GEORGE HARRISON

“During the war, Liverpool was the second biggest port in the empire, after London, with huge docks. It really did get hammered in the Blitz. You hear the story about Aunt Mimi dodging the bombs, going to the hospital when John [Lennon] was born. That’s not an exaggeration. Liverpool got the shit bombed out of it. Post-war, our playgrounds were bombsites, which could be pretty dangerous. You got streets that just went off into nothing. We were very aware of the war. Near where George, Paul and I went to school at the Liverpool Institute, there was a church called St Luke’s that had been firebombed. The whole church was just a burned-out shell. It’s still there now as a reminder.  There would always be a few kids who didn’t have a father. It was never talked about, but you didn’t know whether they were children of an American soldier or whether their father had died in the war.”   NEIL ASPINALL, Lifelong friend, CEO Apple Corps …

“I always remember my Mum saying that they had been on the housing list to have another house for twenty-two years. In 1949 they eventually did get a house, and we moved to Speke in about 1950. Speke was a building site basically; there were no roads or anything. It was like two feet of mud everywhere. But it was a bigger house.”   PETER HARRISON, Brother

“There were numerous parks around Liverpool. People always think that Liverpool’s a big built-up city, but if you could see it from the air I think you’d realise there are more parks there than in the majority of cities. When you were a little one you played on the bombsites but by and large weekends as a family we always used to go to a park somewhere – take some sandwiches and a bottle of water.”  HARRY HARRISON, Brother

“I used to live in a place called Speke, which is on the outskirts of Liverpool. My mother was a midwife, so she would keep getting moved to the outskirts. The roads were kind of unmade when we got there. It was frontier land. And George lived just down the road. It was a bus stop away. It was a road called Central Avenue, which was the main road, and then there was Western Avenue, and then half an hour away was the city, where our school was. And we both went to the same school. I would get on the bus, and then a stop later George would get on. So I’d see this kid with a quiff, but younger than me, so I wouldn’t pay much attention, because I was cooler, I was older. But eventually he must have had a seat next to me on the bus, so that’s how we met. Obviously going to the same school we had a bond. And then it turned out that we both loved rock ‘n’ roll, and guitars. He was a cocky little guy. He had a good sense of himself; he wasn’t cowed by anything. He had a great haircut.

“Looking back now, it was pre-fame – we were just ordinary kids who couldn’t get in places because we weren’t famous. Teachers didn’t like us. Rock ‘n’ roll hadn’t properly arrived yet. I always think of it as kind of Dickensian. And the school that I went to with George, incidentally, was a very Dickensian old place. In fact, Dickens had talked there. That’s how Dickensian it was. You grew up wanting to go somewhere else. It made you hungry, so art was a great golden vision. For us, we wouldn’t have called it art, but rock ‘n’ roll.”   PAUL McCARTNEY

Author: Olivia Harrison

Title: George Harrison 

Publisher: Abrams

Date: Copyright 2011 by Harrisongs, Ltd.

Pages: 15-32

Here are four guys who forgot they were poor, who forgot that they had a society of royalty looking down upon them, who forgot to march and protest and carry signs to proclaim how they were being cheated by those who’d worked hard to get some advantages from life.

Those of us who were born poor value the opportunity this free enterprise system has given us, and continues to offer any who are willing to apply their time to something constructive other than carrying protest signs.  I, personally, have never taken a dime from the government, other than that rent break my single mom accepted to keep us sheltered.  I’ve never been out of a job for more than three days, but then I’ve always taken any job that came along, sometimes while continuing to look for a better job in my off hours.  I’ve been broke, bankrupt, more than once, but always from risking.  Those protestors on Wall Street and in other communities across the country won’t even risk their time and effort, much less what they may have saved from hard work.  The true value of being born poor is pride in what you’ve done with your own two hands and the brain God bestowed upon each and every one of us.

The value of being poor is accomplishment, and the ease of recognizing it as you had nothing to begin with.  It’s being able to climb up from poverty, and think this country and her forefathers for the opportunity offered by freedom and free enterprise.

In many ways I hope the protestors will keep protesting.  They are spending lots of our tax dollars but they are also taking up lots of time that George Soros would be spending trying to destroy America in other ways, and lots of his money (not nearly enough), and they are certainly staying out of an already stressed job market.  Not that most of them would take a job if it were offered them.

The good news, smiling and laughing is good for you, so the occupy a-holes are keeping me healthy, and I hope you’re getting some good laughs from them.  Personally, I wish I could donate a case of pepper spray to any cop willing to use it.  Nothing like getting a good chuckle from watching a lazy, good-for-absolutely-nothing law-breaker get his come-uppins.

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