Busy pitching, as if that is going to save me from the seismic stress I have placed on myself in battling such an entrenched corporate model. I may not survive this fight with Presby, and despite their continuous verbal and formal threats which have remained inert, under about 5 managers, I have forced the company into being fearful that I'll litigate, and it's killing me, whatever it does to my current minority wardens. I should have focused on leaving Riverside after my mother's death, but I was reluctant to return to Delaware County. It is a hard truth, but nonetheless true, that my immediate family does not care about me. Throwing money at me is not familial support, and they do not visit me here-- because they fear the city's African American community-- and after what I've lived, they are justified in it. Senator Toomey's people were polite, as I predicted, but ignored the grist of my letter, basically indicting city corruption. In Toomey's calculus, it stands to reason that going after an independent living center's utter ineffectually applied paradigm is too hot to handle; I am struggling with how much I'm going to press this, and haven't made up my mind, but his staff did telephone me in 2012, or thereabouts, and I do have a crusade--I want to make it better for the next generation after me. I can't do that if I have a stroke going after the vested Protestant interest in the business of poverty, one of the subtexts Melville toyed with in our Victorian era, one which still binds us to him.
Moby Dick is a preeminent masterpiece, and I shall brook no argument from lazy flash fiction advocates!
But I'm still frightened, and need new living quarters.
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