What the Dickens?

It's Labour Day and a day that should be one causing us to think of workers. I haven't been in the work market for a long time, but all around me I see and hear tales about the working world. I speak to two married parents who carry a huge load of debt. Both university trained parents work, not for frills, but to survive. Hope of paying off the mortgage are unlikely and sending their children to university at the outrageous future costs of that, is something they don't want to think about. Month to month, they can just get by trying to live an average life. Saving extra money for a glorious retirement isn't possible. If their jobs didn't have benefits such as medical, dental and pension plans, only emergency care would be possible. Maybe their nice house and cars make them appear "rich" to some but they aren't. No one sees the two at the dining room table monthly, trying to figure out how to have a holiday away or buy the kid's bike or dance lessons or the fashion runners. Theirs is a success story, however. Down the way, in a rental, lives another family. They just learned that Dad who is bordering fifty doesn't have a job and at his age, is unlikely to find one. His company "went under". The choices are, that he goes to work up North or tries for a starter wage job in town. Starter wage is what teens make who live at home and drive mom's car. But what other choice is there, when the grocery bill alone is scary? The chief wage earner is now mom who goes to work on the bus. She worries about rent and groceries. At the moment, they are slowly sinking further and further into debt. Their teens who work after school and weekends, complain that their "friends" have all kinds of things they do not, and that it affects their social standing at school. They ask "how come?" even though they know "how come". The family sits at the kitchen table wondering what to do. There are no answers other than a job, and soon. In a tiny house on the corner, there is a widower whose neglected place needs a roof. he can't afford a "home". His only choice is to sell but he owes huge back taxes and penalties.  He has a government pension and that's it. He was a house painter and while he worked which was rarely, since people in his neighbourhood couldn't afford to hire one, he tried to save what he could, but it simply didn't meet what he needs now. He sits in front of his old TV trying to think if he can afford tuna fish and macaroni, or just macaroni this month when the pension comes in. He's lost track of taxes and insurance. Those are luxuries he can't afford if he wants to pay his hydro bill and cable. He gave up his car a long time ago. His family lives far away and when they call, he tries to put a smile in his voice but he is lonely and when he doesn't feel well and sees the doctor, he is always happy to know he isn't sick. He can't afford to be sick. What I write, Dickens did in story form and did it well enough to make a difference. Not any more.