diatribesmoney

Machine guns on Wall Street

I’ve been waiting months for Public Enemies to come out on DVD.

Reason number one: I love Johnny Depp.

Reason number 2: I love guns.

The movie was just OK, as I expected from the mixed reviews I’d read. The plot was a little anticlimactic, and the love story lacked the romance novel passion I had hoped for. But the guns, both Johnny Depp’s flesh ones, and the black, shiny, metallic ones, were all I could have hoped for and more.

And it got me thinking about parallel circumstances.

In a time not dissimilar to ours, lawless criminals like Baby Face Nelson and Johnny Depp’s character, John Dillinger, blazed up banks with showers of bullets because it was the right thing to do.

People were starving. The economy was in the can because of bad banking principles and the little guy — the average American — was helpless because of puffed-up men in suits.

Today we face a similar outlook. The economy has never been worse. The rich are getting richer and despite my unwavering “hope” that the Obama Administration is working to make it all better, I have to see through my false sense of stability; it’s not actually getting better, but far worse.

So why hasn’t any modern-day gangster stepped out of the shadows with a full banana clip and an AK-47 in hand to scare those greedy bastards with densely lined pockets?

Well, probably because murder and owning an AK-47 are illegal, but a girl can dream right?

No, really, I don’t want to kill people, but it would be nice to see some of them squirm.

So my rated-PG plan is to have someone bust into Goldman Sachs right at lunchtime when those pinstripes step out to feast on pepper-encrusted medium-rare steaks and gin martinis, and point a Super Soaker full of red fruit juice at their rumbling bellies.

I can see it now: The trigger is pulled and a stream of red juice stains their double-breasted suits. The panic would spread like wildfire. Naturally, our hero might be toted away by linebacker-sized bodyguards or even Tasered to the ground, but wouldn’t it be worth it?

What if the Kool-Aid Man came busting onto the floor of the New York Stock Exchange and shouted, “Oh Yeaahh!”, and then doused the fat cats with Slammin’ Strawberry-Kiwi juice drink? That seems like a fair punishment for years of Ponzi schemes and security-backed mortgages.

I am convinced that this is justified because of an incident a few weeks ago when I was selling raffle tickets at a luncheon event.

A man, who ignored my pleas to purchase a raffle ticket upon entry to the luncheon, whisked off this calf-length wool coat and adjusted the lapels of his suit before he tossed what looked like a cute little bobble head doll onto the holiday toy drive table. Already late, he rushed into the hotel dining room where a republican running for Senate was the keynote speaker.

The crowd hushed and I imagined this man settling into his seat with a full plate of cheeses, crackers and spreads laid out before him.

I quietly waltzed over to the present table to organize the pile of board games, race cars and big-eyed dollies. Almost done stacking, I reached for the bobble head to place it on top of the pile.

It was then that I noticed that where blinking eyes should be, there were large, green dollar signs. It was a Richie Rich bobble head, and not even the real Funko Wacky Wobbler Collector’s item — it was a dollar store knock-off.

The box looked as though it had been beaten up — perhaps it was a gag gift this man received for his 40th birthday 10 years ago. A reflection of his acquired wealth.

How could someone give this gift to a needy child? All I could imagine was some underprivileged little boy unwrapping it in his one-bedroom apartment with a mortified family watching.

Maybe the man with the calf-length wool coat thought this would be a motivational gift — if there’s such a thing. Maybe he believed a little boy would aspire to be rich upon receiving it.

As I thought about tossing the re-gifted bobble head into the trash, I really wished John Dillinger was still alive or that I had a Super Soaker full of red fruit juice.

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