Pound Of Flesh

Yep, the banks own most of us. Have a great weekend. I still reminisce about when I was a poor, single, writer, living in a tenement neighborhood in West Philadelphia. (55 years ago) Even back then, the freedom I felt was like dying and going straight to heaven. No mortgage, my utilities came with my rent, so other than food and gas (.35 cents/Gal.), and I only had a motorcycle, living was cheap. I was also a graduate student, pumping gas at a local station at night and making $80.00 a week. I got to write all night in between the cars coming in for gas.