What it Means to be Lazy (Written by a Lazy Man)

Definition of LAZY from Merriam-Webster - disinclined to activity or exertion : not energetic or vigorous : encouraging inactivity or indolence : moving slowly : sluggish : droopy, lax : not rigorous or strict.

The "Lazy" Debate

Many people that have had, and have managed to keep, their jobs during The Great Recession (and didn't fear losing them) have been bitterly critical of the unemployed, those who were laid off during this time. The gainfully employed have been accusing the unemployed of many things during The Great Recession, most of them being totally unfair and completely unfounded. Besides just cruel barbs being hurtled at the jobless, the more fortunate among us (those who still work and earn a full paycheck) have been blaming those who were laid off from their jobs due to lack of work as being "lazy" (as though they all had been fired for willful misconduct).

They believe that most or all 15 million unemployed American workers are "lazy". All those college grads, single moms, and factory workers - all their grandmas, neighbors, and friends. They're ALL lazy. Or most are.

I find it so odd that those who were lucky enough to have found a chair to sit in when the music stopped when the stock market crashed in 2008 (as in a game of musical chairs) were so quick to blame the unemployed for losing their jobs (saying they lacked skills, weren't as competitive, or were just lazy). I find it so odd that those WITH jobs were so quick to believe that in the last 3 years of American history, our society had suddenly created 8.5 million "lazy beggars". Almost overnight, American citizens who worked for the last 20, 30, and 40 years were now being called "lazy" by many people who may have only been in the work force for only 5 very short years themselves, doing a soft desk job, and who might also still be living with their parents.

Where do all these immature and pompous morons come from? Let me explain to all these idiots what a 55-year-old lazy man really is. Maybe I might be a good example of someone who is only trying to game the system, and who would do anything I can (lie, cheat, and steal) to get a free government hand-out from all those good, hard-working, God-fearing, and patriotic American citizens.

My Own Laziness

Laziness is a scourge on America, a disease that starts early on in an American bum's life, usually around the age of 9 when they are first assigned weekly duties by their parents such as washing the family car, mowing the lawn, and taking out the garbage. Sometimes a job poorly done is rewarded with a big fat allowance.

These simple tasks are the seeds to a life of free-loading in their later years, and should be outlawed!

Laziness gradually progresses into one's early teen-aged years when he/she wishes to work at the local mall to earn money for trendy clothes, cds, and going to the movies with their friends. I was a late bloomer myself; it wasn't until I was 17 years old before I finally took a full-time job, working 40-hours-a-week at the Spaulding's factory while I was still in my senior year of high school. My father was so disgusted with me that he left me dinner warming in the oven for me when I got home from work late at night.

This was back in 1973. I was so lazy in those days that I actually slept 6 hours a day! It must have been the way I was raised by my strict military father. Everyone knows that the U.S. Armed Forces encourages laziness. How else could we have won two World Wars?

As I got older my laziness quickly escalated. I began working two jobs, one in a sheet metal shop, the other in a textile mill....60 hours a week. I had no shame, no self-respect, and no respect for others. I was that damn lazy. I cared about nobody except for myself.

One place I worked was so hot inside during the summers (over 110 degrees) we took salt tablets to keep from dehydrating. Another place I worked required steel-toed shoes, a hard hat, safety goggles, and ear-plugs. Hard-working people never needed such sissy gear.

As I got older my laziness went into remission for a few years, and during this time I only worked 40 hours a week while I completely restored a 1967 650-cc Triumph Bonneville from scratch and customized it with an extended front end and Harley parts. I had sanded the original paint off the frame my hand, and then replaced the wiring harness, which was all easy enough to do for even the laziest of people!

During this remission from my self-inflicted laziness, for a short time I also helped raise a small child, taught myself how to play the guitar, read almost two thousand books, took the civil service exam for the post office, and bought a house - and during my much un-deserved vacations, I sometimes traveled around the country by jet. I was a real American hobo by this time.

One job I held was as an apprentice brick layer, mixing mortar using cement, lime, and sand - which ate through my leather gloves and cracked the skin on my hands until they bled. I carried two 5-gallon buckets of mortar and 12-inch solid concrete blocks up a ladder to the scaffolding. I was so damn lazy that the owners of the company used to invite me into their homes to share their prized home-made wine with me after a 12-hour day's work.

And the short stint I did as a roofer with asphalt (black tar) in a bucket with a mop on top of a roof in the hot summers was always fun too. Something that only a lazy person could appreciate.

Oh, and did I mention the cardboard factory? Being a young and wiry young man, I was still expected to lift up my end of the 50-pound bundles when working with the bigger and much stronger men...all day long. That was the first time I injured my back, trying to keep up and to prove myself. I suppose even lazy people screw up sometimes and exhibit pride once in a while.

I used to go to sleep tired and sore every night, and I'd wake up tired and sore every morning...that's how lazy I was, can you believe it? I was scum.

I moved to Philadelphia in 1979. I left the factories, the mills, the shops, and the brickyards to start a new career in the hospitality industry. I started out as a busboy and 6 months later I wore a suit to my job, working as an assistant manger in the Room Service department of the 5-star Bellevue-Stratford Hotel. I did scheduling, payroll, and sales forecasts as well. Evidently, upper management had realized and appreciated my well-tuned laziness and thought I should be supervising other, less lazy people.

Several short years later my laziness was almost out of control. I ran a small business (a video store) and I had the pleasure of working 80 hours a week for almost 3 years straight, many times sleeping at work and bathing in the office restroom. Those were the best (and most relaxed) days of my life.

In 1989 I was forced out of business my a much larger competitor (it's all my fault, I should have worked 168 hours a week, but I could never get over my infliction of laziness - something that I've always had since the day I was born.)

So I moved to Las Vegas to become a casino bartender. I was very disappointed because I only got to be on my feet 8 hours a day, and being lazy requires much less effort. Working every holiday, all week-ends, back-to-back shifts, double shifts, and being "on-call" with an hour's notice had really softened me up...I became so lazy that I was earning more money than I had ever earned in my life.

I lounged around, sitting on my lazy ass for the next 20 years doing this. During this same period time I also learned how to fix computers and design web sites - and I also wrote a novel.

Then suddenly one day, I had had enough of this life of leisure, so I destroyed the whole U.S. economy...just so my boss would lay my lazy ass off. Laziness knows no bounds, bums and hobos such as I would do almost ANYTHING rather than do any type of work. Just the word "work" can make us very tired.

Finally I had the chance to sit on my couch with my very cheap wide-screen HD TV and do absolutely nothing all day long while watching Oprah - and I could finally squander my easily-earned life's savings on frivolous things such as rent, electricity, and a dumb internet connection - something that was both un-needed and wasteful, as computers in the New Millennium held no true value at all. They weren't tools, they were merely toys.

Two years later I woke up penniless and I was being evicted, to become a homeless man, with no way to eat but to scavenge for food in garbage dumpsters. At last, my laziness was paying off. My life-long dream was coming true. Because everybody knows how easy life is when you have the privilege of living on the streets and sleeping on a cold sidewalk. A lazy man's Utopia. (I had been so relieved, that after submitting over 300 job applications, I was always ignored or rejected.)

But the best is yet to come! I can't wait until I die. Because then I won't even have to make an effort to breathe!

If I have led a lazy life, then yes, I'm "lazy", and I'm damn proud of it!

And for those of you who are still working in 2011, I'd hate to have your job, because you must have much worse back-aches than I do, be much older, and are still working much harder than I ever did. God bless YOU for not being as lazy as me, and for not begging for a free-government hand-out. You are a true American patriot. Thank you for not tolerating the likes of me. You make me so proud to call you an American!

Now I have to go. I smell horrible, and people are looking at me funny. Security is on the way over to kick me out of the public library.