Funky Boy

I met Alberto. He used to a carpenter/handyman in Miami who moved up here in 2005 when his wife died. He is 74 and was a Cuban refugee in the early 1980s. I thought I would be the oldest in my classes and the only one who worked with his hands. This guy came here illegally on a boat, got refugee status and now is a citizen. He couldn't read Spanish when he got here, and now knows English. Now he wants to get a degree. He doesn't care what in. He just wants his grandkids to know they can do it if he can. I got to respect that. I really do. 

I'm looking around. I always do. People are bitter, bitchy, moaning, blaming everyone else for their miserable lives. They are miserable because improving their life takes risk, and risk scares them to death. So they choose to be bitter instead of happy. They yell about free they are but wear self-installed handcuffs thicker than Grant's Tomb. They howl about I need religion and lived scared. What's your politics or religion done for you? They whine about how religion is what causes all the unhappiness but how happy has their atheism made you? The Facebook politicians and bar stall economists are just as bad. They know what's wrong with this country but prefer to tell me than to get involved. No one really gives a shit that says they do. Well, some really do, but they never say anything about. They are too happy making a difference in their lives and the world.