I feel guilty because I can overfeed my family

Sigh. Damn conscience. I got groceries and saved about $52 with coupons today. Add (subtract) about double that by shopping the specials. I didn't spend more than I usually do in a week, but I got far, far more. The back of my truck was loaded, and it took me quite a few trips to bring everything in. The freezer is jammed, the fridge is jammed, the pantry would be jammed if I wasn't trying to clear it so that I can jam it in a more orderly fashion. We could be housebound for a long, long time and roll out of here as fat as when we started.

I can provide hot healthy meals for my family every meal, every day, and I do it without thinking, usually. We need to eat, and there is food available to us. If I want a snack, there are snacks available. If I want cereal for breakfast, there are always 3 or 4 open choices. Prefer eggs? A bagel? Oatmeal? Not a problem, we have that, and what would you like to drink with that? Coffee? Tea? Juice? What kind? Cream cheese for that bagel? Jelly for your toast? Not a problem, I'll just move a few things around here in the fridge... I know it's in here somewhere.

So what's my problem? We don't have it bad, not at all, but there are many, MANY who have it way better than we do. and many, MANY who have it far worse. It's not fair, is it? Call me a socialist, call me a left-leaning bleeding heart liberal but the huge inequities in this country are obscene. How do we fix it? This country seems ideologically resistent to an effective government-funded safety net. A capitalist society doesn't get richer by feeding street kids and teaching junkies how to take care of their babies. Many of the beautiful people seem to feel lending their star power to foreign crises makes them shine brighter. Nothing wrong with that, but there is need here too. Darfur's need is more glamourous than Detroit's, I guess. And the rest of us turn our heads and try not to be uncomfortable. We suck back our Starbucks and avoid eye contact.

He wasn't there today, but there is often a man standing in the median where the highway exit meets the main thoroughfare through South Burlington, VT. He has a sign that reads "Hungry. Anything is appreciated. Have a good day." He's there in the summer, in the winter, rain, snow, blistering heat. He's been there for years. He's been there long enough that I know what his sign says. I'm ashamed to say that I will often exit in the far lane so I don't have to stop beside him. The voice of reason in my head says if I give him money he'll spend it on booze or drugs. Besides, there are places he can go - shelters, soup kitchens, hand-up-not-hand-out places. But who am I to judge? I don't know his circumstance. I have no idea of his history, of what it is that brings him to that corner everyday. He's someone's son, does his mother miss him? Was his father ever proud of him? He maybe someone's father, are his children old enough to know what their father does to survive? Do they care? Does anyone?

A new administration picks up the reins next week. My heart wants them to find the fix, to make it work, and to do it painlessly and seamlessly and to do it fast. My head tells me that's just not gonna happen. In spite of every pledge, every promise, every well spoken speech and heart pounding reaction, every single one of these new (and returning) people in our state houses, our Congress, our White House gets up in the moring and sees a politician smiling back at them in the mirror. Can they clean up this mess we're in it? Can WE? There can't be a big fix until we stop pretending we're not broken. And if we don't want a meddling top-heavy government to step in and do it for us, we'd better get off over-upholstered asses and start fixing it ourselves.