Poor people are such because they
are lazy, foolish, or timid; a truth held in secret
by ruling class politicians. Liberal activists would
have you believe people are trapped in poverty
because others are rich and empowering government to
make the rich un-rich will magically improve your
lot in life. They are wrong. Wealth can be passed
through the bloodlines from one generation to the
next and it is easy to think of families enjoying a
lavish lifestyle due to the efforts of an ancestor
who was smart, industrious and a risk taker.
Poverty, however, is not heritable and just because
you descend from a long line of economic disasters
is not a reason to fail. This week’s strike by
McDonald’s workers demanding a higher minimum wage
prompted this ticklish poverty column. Because I am
a veterinarian and not a politician, it is my
obligation to let this cat out of the bag, but
caution, your self-esteem is the least of my
concerns. Government mandates or programs such as
the minimum wage and food stamps do not help people
out of poverty; instead it is designed to keep them
there. Awakening to this reality will sting.
My first minimum wage, non-ranch job was in June of
1980. It was the summer after my freshman year of
vet school and the trophy wife and I stayed in
Colorado so she could garner in-state residency for
the upcoming school year. She marketed fries at
McDonald’s while I shoveled dirt for Lang-Murphy
Concrete; both entry level positions. Jobs were
scarce along the Front Range and I landed a spot on
the Lang-Murphy payroll by tagging along with a vet
school classmate who had worked there the previous
summer. After spending my winter lifting nothing
heavier than a scalpel, adjusting to a shovel,
jack-hammer, and compactor was physically
challenging. The first week nearly killed me.
Earning a whopping $5.50 per hour did not put much
food on the table and using the conventional wisdom
of community organizers in 2013, I could have
sponsored a demonstration demanding a living wage
plus benefits. Instead, I was thankful to be
employed and gave it my all knowing this was just my
beginning; just another rung on my climb up the
ladder.
Thirty-three years later, I own the family ranch, a
two-doctor veterinary practice, I have raised three
children who have given me ten grandchildren with
two on the way and I serve in the Montana House of
Representatives. Because your path to success is
rarely a straight line, this last week I shoveled
concrete, ran a jackhammer, and a compactor. On the
surface, it appears I am back where I started and
this brings me to my point. No one decides your rung
on life’s ladder more than you and God and I am
certain He does not want you spending your
afternoons on the sofa watching Oprah. In spite of
the left’s best efforts to destroy our republic,
America still is the land of opportunity to those
willing to work, learn, and risk. This is an
absolute truth. If you are not making it where you
are, do something about it. Move, change careers,
take a risk, or start a business, but never think
you will become rich by letting the ruling class
toss you bigger crumbs.
Last week, I was utilizing skills I acquired way
back in 1980 due to poor planning on my part, as my
family has outgrown the smaller house I built ten
years ago. For me to seat my children, their
spouses, all my grandchildren, my parents and
in-laws at a single table for Christmas dinner
requires 24 place settings. My idiosyncratic beliefs
in faith, family and freedom dictate we all break
bread together. No “A” table and “B” table. I hold
no job beneath my pay grade so wrestling a
jackhammer, shovel or compactor is just something
which needs done. If you are not the smartest or
most talented man on the job you better be willing
or even eager to worker harder than everyone else.
To do anything less will keep you stuck on the
bottom rung of the ladder. The choice is yours.
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