Donna Cord,

Diary of a Mad Housewife

from Newsweek, Feb. 18, 1974 pp. 14‑15


You, my fellow Americans, will probably never read this. Not because my thoughts are not interesting, or important, or valid, or a darn sight better than a lot of the gibberish I have read in the MY TURN column. But because I am nobody ... that is, I am not what the enlightened editors at Newsweek would call a distinguished guest writer. But then, how many of those are there around anyway?


No, I am just a poor, ordinary schnook ‑ married, mother, citizen. The Bank‑Americard bill around our house is in four figures and the Sears bill is not far behind. A traveling vacation is in the unforeseeable future, as is a new car (our '68 Chevelle is creaky, but it runs), a new coat, roast beef and air conditioning. How many MY TURN columnists can match those qualifications?


The one thing that I have an abundance of at this point in time is anger. Anger and disgust. Not with my country. The United States is blessed (in theory at least) with all the institutions to make it work for the people. I am angry with you, and you, and me. All of us. We have become a nation of sheep ‑ and we are being screwed at every turn.


We, the people, are letting go unchallenged atrocities that should warm the hearts of totalitarian leaders everywhere. The governor of California pays no taxes, your rich landlord probably paid less than you. Capital gains, write‑offs, loopholes. Everyone acknowledges that only the middle‑average‑poor get the tax shaft. So why do we let it happen? Where is a full‑fledged taxpayers' revolt? I am tired of being hopelessly debt‑ridden while the rich and the super‑rich and the politicians go skiing.


My husband belongs to no union; he gets no (ha ha) "cost of living" raises. So each year that he earns the same, our financial condition goes straight downhill. We need gas as much as any one, but if we had dared to block an interstate highway with our rusty car, we would have been arrested in two minutes flat. Why is it that big, profitable airlines have the ear of the government and plain people do not? Why, if indeed there is a shortage of gasoline, were the huge oil companies allowed to raise their prices to compensate for the reduced supply? All that that accomplished was to keep their profits (amounts so enormous they boggle the mind) at the same level. But oh, no, folks. You and I are the ones who pay ‑ 60 cents a gallon and no end in sight.

 

MACARONI AGAIN

We are fools because we have uncomplainingly let the big‑money interests take over our country. If you're not a conglomerate, you're nobody. I laugh and cry and rage all at the same time when some overeducated economist rattles on about supply and demand and trade deficits and baloney; then he slinks away, back to his well‑furnished home and well‑padded paycheck, while we nod our heads and eat macaroni again.


We have gone along for years accepting the rich getting richer, toys that can maim, built‑in obsolescence, unsafe cars, medical costs that threaten bankruptcy, air that chokes us and special‑interest lobbies in Washington. Don't we care? Are we indeed such sheep that we must wait for a Ralph Nader to come along and get our cars made safer for us? We are the ones who are getting smashed up in our Tinkertoy two‑doors at the rate of 50,000 a year while Pentagon personnel spend their time in chauffeured (and, I might add, sturdy) limousines. Where is the "citizens' lobby" to look out for your interests?


There is insanity all about us. Our government sells wheat to Russia, which in turn supports and encourages the Arab countries, which in turn shut off our oil.
We pay farmers for not growing food, and millions go hungry. The dairy industry is a government pet, and I try powdered milk (ugh!) because real milk sells for $ 1.50 a gallon. If we elect an almost "ordinary" person ‑ that is, not a millionaire ‑ to high office (like Agnew), he winds up with his hand out for money; and if we elect millionaires, how can they know or care about the ordinary needs of ordinary people?

 

WHERE ARE OUR VOICES?

I have no answers ‑ only a strong faith in the power of the people. I only know that you can't be walked on if you stand up. I know I care about my country and the quality of my life. And so do my neighbors. And the people all across America. Where are our voices? There is a scene from "The Magnificent Seven" in which the outlaw says of the poor villagers whose town he has just plundered, "if God didn't want them shorn, He would not have made them sheep." Have we become a nation of sheep?

 

 

Annotations:
My Turn – a weekly column in Newsweek;
schnook also shnook  n. Slang  a stupid or easily victimized person; a dupe;   Bank‑Americard -  a credit card;   Sears -  a big department store