I’m talking about the last four digits of my Social Security Number. I memorized mine 50 years ago when I joined the Navy. I had to remember it. If I forgot it, a chief petty officer kicked my ass.

So I memorized it.

People need to know your social security number.

A Social Security number follows you through your entire life.

Life is a crazy-ass journey.

I mean, look how you end up!

My Last Four

People know me by my name. I go by my name. I’m not a number! That’s how it works here in the good old U.S.A. I’m a name. You’re a name. You’re not a number. Except you are a number. Certain people need to know your number. They require your number. Bankers. Potential Employers. ICE police. The Internal Revenue Service. The V.A. hospital. I go to the V.A. for my health care. They got a fast way of asking my number. They say, “Last Four.” That’s it. They always ask “Your last four?” And I tell them.

The first five digits have nothing to do with your identity.

The last four of your social security number at a Glance: The last four digits of a social security number (SSN) are called the Serial Number. These digits are unique to the person whom the SSN was assigned to.

Stilt

The first three digits are the when, the middle two digits are the where. The last four identify YOU.

It’s like Death, Judgement, Heaven and Hell…that’s THE WHOLE TOMATO, MAN!

Is being a number a bad thing?

This is a George Lucas movie. His first movie. 1971. In this movie, the future is not so good. Atom bombs wasted the land and now people live in underground cities. The hero is a man named THX1138. That’s a prefix followed by his last four. He works in a factory where he builds Android police. The government rules by budgets. If you’re not worth living they waste you. Nobody has a name. They keep everybody drugged so nobody gets riled up or filled with love. That way, you do your work, go home, jack-off, take some drugs, crash, wake-up, go to work, and so on. Personally, I could get along pretty well in this form of society, especially now that I’m an old fart with no real future. But for the rest of us, this is meant to be a bleak existence. There’s no real love and understanding. No creativity. No future. Only existence. And nobody has a name. Just prefixes and the last four. Life is pretty grim in this society. Being just a number is a bad thing.

But is having a number a bad thing?

Not at all! Having a number is a good thing. This guy I know, Edgar, he works on boats at my marina. He would give his left nut to have a number. Edgar is what they used to call a Wet Back. That’s slang for somebody that crossed the border illegally. Edgar lives on the canal here in San Rafael. He’s been living here and working on boats for thirty years. Never been arrested. Never been pulled over. Minds his own business. Happy-go-lucky kind of guy. His English is real good. He could get by on no English because he lives down there on the canal where everybody, shop owners, landlords, hookers, cops, preachers, etcetera, speak Spanish. It’s little Tijuana down there!

Speaking English helps Edgar get boat cleaning jobs. Because a lot of us boat owners are old grumpy white dudes who only speak English. Other than that, I can’t think of much else Edgar would need English for. Not even here in White Dude Sausalito. Most Restaurants are filled with Spanish speaking people. Same with the Super Markets. The gas stations around here are run by Hindus, and those dudes speak dozens of languages, including Spanish. I mean, now I’m thinking about it, even the names of the towns, Sausalito, Corte Madera, San Rafael, San Anselmo, are Spanish names. No. Now I’m really thinking about it, Edgar could get by with no English…unless he gets pulled over by ICE.

That’s the thing. Edgar needs a Social Security number. He has a driver’s license, I think, and that helps. But he’s without a social security number. He can’t work a job where he gets W2ed or even 1099ed. He works under the table. He pays taxes just not income taxes. He would like to pay income taxes.

If Edgar gets arrested for, say, peeing on a tree, he could get deported. Back to Mexico. Is he from Mexico? I’m not sure. He could get deported back to Colombia. Or Venezuela. I haven’t been to Venezuela lately. I’ve never been to Venezuela. I hear they’ve got runaway inflation down there. A Taco cost you fifty thousand Bolivars.

Edgar needs a Social Security Number. I mean, what’s the point of deporting his ass? I feel sorry for him. Do I really feel sorry for him? Kinda. The other day some jerk stole his catalytic converter. Now he’s driving around in his beat to shit toyota making all kinds of noise. He can’t be driving his car. He’s gonna get pulled over and before you know it he’ll be on his way back to Venezuela where they’re eating dogs while some tin pan commie president tries to keep the lid on.

The current President, Nicolás Maduro, is still on the throne, and not very well liked. The guy in the image above? That’s good old Hugo Chavez. He got the Socialist ball rolling, then croaked before shit went south. The people still love him…

Poor Hugo’s dealing with his last four.

So what’s the moral of my little post?

There’s no moral.

Who knows what’s right and wrong.

I believe this: having a social security number is a good thing. It kind of means our government cares about us. Cares about us in a good way. You know, like our Grandparents used to care about us. “Poor little Gloomer. He’s not all bad. We need to take care of him!” And that’s the deal. It’s like old FDR was my Grandpa! He wanted to make sure even a dude like me got by in his old age.

Isn’t that nice?

So there you have it.

Sadly, not everybody has a serial number

Poor old Edgar. I don’t know. I have friends, including my girlfriend, who say DEPORT HIM. Maybe not Behead him…but definitely Deport him. And good riddance! These are mostly Republicans but plenty of them are at the other end of the political spectrum.

Barak Obama deported more people than any other President.

Just so you know….