I LIVE OFF welfare. I don’t deny it. It’s called Social Security.
Lots of folks argue that they’re just getting back the money they paid into the system over their working life. They don’t like to think they’re living on the dole.
While it was true for many years after the Social Security system started in 1935, when life spans were shorter, that you were just getting your money back, it’s far less so these days when life spans are longer.
Many, possibly most, recipients now get back what they paid into it, and after that they become welfare recipients. It’s a federal handout, not all that different from food stamps and Aid to Dependent
Children Old People.
I don’t feel guilty in the slightest. If Uncle Sam had not promised me this decades ago, I would have made other plans. I might not even be living in Mexico.
I might be a greeter at Walmart in Houston.
Social Security recipients who live outside the United States are sent a snail-mail letter every year that we must fill out and return by November. I receive mine almost always in late June. I return it by registered mail which gives me a tracking number that works on both sides of the border.
I’ve been doing this for 11 years now.* The letter has always arrived, and my return letter has always been delivered. The Mexican mail system works well.
I sent the form on its way north just this morning from the post office downtown. My welfare greenbacks arrive at BBVA Bancomer on the 3rd of each month. As it sails over the Rio Bravo it magically morphs from dollars to pesos.
Mexican pesos are “real money” to me.
My monthly amount this year is $1,617 U.S., a 2 percent increase over last year. That’s the princely annual sum of $19,404. Some years we get an increase, some years not. It never decreases. I also get a small corporate pension. Living in the United States on this would be a colossal challenge, but not down here.
Down here I live like a Welfare King.
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* From age 55 to 62, I lived in Mexico almost entirely on savings.