Neal Boortz

I’m not here to write about any weighty issue of politics, the war on terror or tax reform.  I’m just here to help.  Buried deep in this column is a bit of advice that you would actually pay me for … so read on.  Suffer through a few paragraphs of my maniacal ranting and you’ll be the better off for it … at least, if you’re planning to buy a new car.

I’m not really sure when I first became subject to the constant intrusion of the Imperial Federal Government of the United States into my personal life.  Certainly, I was a little perplexed when I applied for my first Social Security card.  I was only 16, but someone offered me a job setting pins at the bowling alley at the El Toro Marine Air Station in California.  I had to apply for this symbol of government paternalism, or I couldn’t work, so it was off to Santa Ana to get the hideous little blue card.  I just couldn’t understand why it wasn’t my responsibility, instead of the government’s, to save my own money for my own retirement.  It was many years later that I realized Social Security was a vote-buying program for politicians, not a retirement income program for Americans.

When I was a little older, I decided to become agitated over a white line painted in the aisle of a bus at Walt Disney World.  There was the white line, and there was a sign above the driver saying, “Federal law prohibits the operation of this vehicle with any person standing in front of the white line.”  Oh, great.  Somewhere, in Washington DC, there’s a sad little bureaucrat sitting behind a steel desk in a drab light green office who has decided that every bus in the entire nation must have a white line painted across the aisle and every bus driver told that he can’t budge an inch if a stray foot crosses the line.  There’s no telling how many lives have been saved with this one.

OK … we’re getting closer to that advice you’ll be so thankful for.

Back to the nameless little bureaucrat and his white line.  He may well be retired now, but I suspect that before he slithered out of that office in whatever government agency he worked for, he scored one more hit.

Neal Boortz

Neal Boortz, retired after 42 years in talk radio, shares his memoirs in the hilarious book “Maybe I Should Just Shut Up and Go Away” Now available in print and as an eBook from and