Five a.m. on a cold, dark, snowy morning — a lazy, teat-sucking SS recipient looks out her window to see another lazy American trudging down the middle of the street with a heavy backpack, walking to work. The walks aren’t shoveled, so many early birds walk in the street. I know this woman: In her fifties, probably a nurse, walking to the hospital nearby. She lives a few blocks down, so she has already walked some. We exchange greetings in other seasons when the entitlement-seeking old person is working her garden before she eases into her summertime, bonbon eating day. The lazy SS recipient is up all hours of the night, worrying about bills and the state of her homeland. Nothing much she can do about her homeland — and come to think of it, not much she’ll be able to do about her bills this month.