We Really Can’t Make It Here Anymore –So What Now?

James McMurtry composed this song in 2004. I listen and wonder why things haven’t turned around since then. Mostly they haven’t and in some ways its worse. If Mr. McMurtry were to update this song for 2014 he’d have very few amendments to make.

There is health care coverage available to almost everyone now and I know several people who would benefit from Obamacare if they would just look into it. Unfortunately, they have too many of republican “friends” and TV personalities who denounce it so loudly and certainly, they are scared to even go to the website to see how it can help them. So many people can’t be wrong can they?! Obamacare is BAAAADD.

The good ole USA won’t help the unemployed anymore because these slackers are too lazy, or have given up on finding a job, or prefer to live off the government tit. The unemployed always have an excuse, right! This hits home for me because my husband is one of the long-term unemployed. I’ll spare you the details of our experience because when I have posted about it here on DU I’ve received the same insults. It doesn’t matter if someone wants to work. It’s a matter of how little you will accept as pay or benefits for that work. It matters if you have credit issues because of your unemployment or from medical expenses. It matters if you are an older American, and by old I mean 40-60 years of age because experienced workers expect more pay. Shame on you!

We’ve cut veterans benefits. We cut food stamps. Some states, would rather see people suffer and die than to expand Medicaid. Women have lost a lot of R-E-S-P-E-C-T since 2004 in that some people think we should be barefoot and pregnant and in the home. Women still make less money than men. It’s also harder to vote now than it was in 2004.

My God I could go on, but Mr. McMurtry said it best:

Vietnam Vet with a cardboard sign
Sitting there by the left turn line
Flag on the wheelchair flapping in the breeze
One leg missing, both hands free
No one's paying much mind to him
The V.A. budget's stretched so thin
And there's more comin' home from the Mideast war
We can't make it here anymore
That big ol' building was the textile mill
It fed our kids and it paid our bills
But they turned us out and they closed the doors
We can't make it here anymore
See all those pallets piled up on the loading dock
They're just gonna set there till they rot
'Cause there's nothing to ship, nothing to pack
Just busted concrete and rusted tracks
Empty storefronts around the square
There's a needle in the gutter and glass everywhere
You don't come down here 'less you're looking to score
We can't make it here anymore
The bar's still open but man it's slow
The tip jar's light and the register's low
The bartender don't have much to say
The regular crowd gets thinner each day
Some have maxed out all their credit cards
Some are working two jobs and living in cars
Minimum wage won't pay for a roof, won't pay for a drink
If you gotta have proof just try it yourself Mr. CEO
See how far 5.15 an hour will go
Take a part time job at one of your stores
Bet you can't make it here anymore
High school girl with a bourgeois dream
Just like the pictures in the magazine
She found on the floor of the laundromat
A woman with kids can forget all that
If she comes up pregnant what'll she do
Forget the career, forget about school
Can she live on faith? live on hope?
High on Jesus or hooked on dope
When it's way too late to just say no
You can't make it here anymore
Now I'm stocking shirts in the Wal-Mart store
Just like the ones we made before
'Cept this one came from Singapore
I guess we can't make it here anymore
Should I hate a people for the shade of their skin
Or the shape of their eyes or the shape I'm in
Should I hate 'em for having our jobs today
No I hate the men sent the jobs away
I can see them all now, they haunt my dreams
All lily white and squeaky clean
They've never known want, they'll never know need
Their sh@# don't stink and their kids won't bleed
Their kids won't bleed in the da$% little war
And we can't make it here anymore
Will work for food
Will die for oil
Will kill for power and to us the spoils
The billionaires get to pay less tax
The working poor get to fall through the cracks
Let 'em eat jellybeans let 'em eat cake
Let 'em eat sh$%, whatever it takes
They can join the Air Force, or join the Corps
If they can't make it here anymore
And that's how it is
That's what we got
If the president wants to admit it or not
You can read it in the paper
Read it on the wall
Hear it on the wind
If you're listening at all
Get out of that limo
Look us in the eye
Call us on the cell phone
Tell us all why
In Dayton, Ohio
Or Portland, Maine
Or a cotton gin out on the great high plains
That's done closed down along with the school
And the hospital and the swimming pool
Dust devils dance in the noonday heat
There's rats in the alley
And trash in the street
Gang graffiti on a boxcar door
We can't make it here anymore

Music and lyrics © 2004 by James McMurtry

So, if we can't make it here anymore. Where?