Yesterday my son heard my Wall Street Journal podcast where one of the advertisers was selling something related to advertising.
He said, "Dad, you should buy that. You should buy more advertising".
I said, "Oh, really? Why do you say that?"
He said, "Because you only have that one TV commercial."
It gave me a chance to talk to him and explain a little bit about marketing.
When I got to the part where I told him about our marketer, he was really interested.
"So, that person just goes around and talks to people? He doesn't have to do any work?"
I had to laugh at that. To him, the "work" of my business would be the heavy lifting involved in fixing a water damage, or cleaning a carpet or some other physical labor.
Driving around? Talking to people? To quote Dire Straits: that ain't workin'.
Actually, I hope there are good sales positions when he grows up. He'd be perfect. He's bright and handsome. However, he's also genuinely personable. He loves people. I get comments all the time from adults about how outgoing and friendly he is.
Like most parents, I want my son to have a better life than I've had. To be a better person and to do better things.
Pretty much every day, he gives me every indication that he'll do just that.
Friday, November 19, 2010
The Last of a Dying Breed...
It gets very difficult pulling the wagon from time to time. Every year, more people are in the wagon and fewer and fewer of us are pulling it. Every year, I see numerous examples of why.
For instance, today's mail? Contained a letter from the State of Michigan saying that my 2009 Michigan Single Business tax return was incorrect. They wanted me to send them about $1,500 because of the mistake.
Problem is, there wasn't any mistake. The two errors they think they caught were that they claim they never received my quarterly estimated payments, and that they don't have a record of carrying over an overpayment from 2008.
So, I ran to the bank to get front and back images of the checks I wrote them, which I sent them, which were deposited, and which, after all that, they claim they never received.
The carried over overpayment? All I can do there is show them copies of my 2008 return since it's not possible for me to show them that I didn't get the refund. "Look, see? Here's the check I didn't get."
All I can do is show them that I asked them to apply it to my 2009 tax bill.
This tax, by the way, is a particularly insidious one. For those not familiar, Michigan has a tax called the "Single Business Tax", which taxes businesses based on gross, not net, volume.
It is one of many, many reasons why nobody in their right mind puts a business in Michigan if they can avoid it.
Michigan's attitude towards jobs is pretty good. They want them. They want lots of them. They want them to pay well.
This, unfortunately, does not jibe with their attitude about businesses, which is that if you create one, they'll jump on your back and ride you like zorro. If you make a dime, they want it. Even if you don't make a dime, taxes like the single business tax will nail you, anyway.
Honestly, this has been a very, very hard year, and things like this hit me harder than they might if I were more prosperous. I'm in the fight of my life trying to meet payroll and keep the lights on, and instead, I lose a day running to the bank and the CPAs office because some state bureaucrat has nothing better to do than to hound people for tax money... even if the people already paid the tax money.
Basically, if you're the little guy, and you're doing the right thing, and every day, you wake up and devote 100% of your business towards doing the right thing, the government steps in, says you did the wrong thing and then the burden of proof is on YOU to show that they're wrong.
But if you're the big guy? And you do the wrong thing? The government takes a bunch of money from the little guy and bails you out. Nice system, that. Seems I got on the wrong side of that equation, though.
I am starting to wonder if I've simply been incredibly naive my entire life. I believed in the power of capitalism. We've all seen what a total joke that is. My faith in capitalism is completely misguided.
Capitalism has nothing to do with life in America right now. If you're politically connected (Wall Streeters and Union Members), then you are immune to not just the laws of capitalism, but the laws of economics.
If you're not politically connected? Well... the state tries to get you to pay your taxes twice. Even if you already paid them. Even if you pay through the nose every year to have a CPA make sure you pay them.
If you make a profit? They are first in line to snag the lion's share of it. Over 15% Social Security and Medicare taxes. If you're lucky, only 20% or so for Federal. Another 5% for State. $4 grand a year for property taxes. (Unless you've paid on two houses, like I have... then, it's $8,000.) Local income taxes. Business taxes. Sales taxes.
If you're lucky, you get to keep less than half of what you made.
If you're not profitable? Hey, you need to be destroyed by the creative destruction of capitalism... never mind that all the taxes you've paid your entire life saved UAW members and Wall Street from this same necessary creative destruction.
I believed that it was virtuous to work hard. Again, what a joke. Far better to go to Wall Street, take a home run swing every day and if you strike out, make the taxpayer hold you aloft until you can take another swing at a multimillion dollar payday.
Rather than working, having a small business, how much farther along would I be to just be a slip and fall attorney? Sue these insurers every day. Make some poor schmuck with a small business pay for it by paying his premiums so that the insurer and the attorneys can get rich. When I say attorneys, by the way, I mean both the plaintiff's and the defendant's attorneys.
Take 1/3 of my clients' insurance settlements? How much better is society off if guys like me, instead of going to a rigorous MBA program and starting a business, went across the campus to the Law School and just became trial lawyers?
Okay, society would be no better off. I sure as heck would, though. I'd be in the wagon, making a living off the efforts of others, instead of being foolish enough to pull the wagon for others.
Every month, I pay my health insurance. Why? So that people on public assistance can have better health coverage than most low-wage workers? So that Obama can make secret backroom deals that ensure that pharma and insurers will always rip us off and that 10% annual increases will never stop?
Why even try? Why keep pulling this wagon? Used to be I thought it was a point of pride. I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought business was my calling.
Now? I think I've just been stupid, and naive. That I was dumb enough to be idealistic. That I was foolish enough to work hard. That I was pathetic enough to believe that I could compete in the market.
When I was young, I was raised by a grandfather and grandmother on social security. I wore used clothing from garage sales and shoes from KMart. Little did I know that I was actually entitled to a check from social security every month because I was the dependent of a retiree.
My grandparents would never have even dreamed something like this would be possible. How would they? They, like me, believed that the way you got ahead in life was to work hard, take care of yourself and live within your means.
How silly they were. The way you get ahead is to find out what the government is subsidizing, then milk the hell out of it. If the government subsidizes home mortgages? You get rich selling subprime mortgages. If the government is subsidizing college tuition? You get rich by opening a diploma-mill "college".
If you aren't thinking on that sort of scale, you get on the dole, then milk the crap out of that. Your kids go to college for free. You get a caseworker who tells you which offices to go to, and you get to live a modest life without ever doing a speck of work.
My grandparents weren't hip to this. They worked their fingers to the bone for their modest lives. Their kids, myself included, had to join the military to afford college. What a bunch of suckers we all were.
What I needed to do was spend all my time thinking about how to be in the wagon, instead of pulling it.
I spent 4 years active duty and almost that much time in the reserves willing to defend this system. Again, I'm a chump. I'm willing to die so some Wall Street banker can bet a zillion dollars of other people's money on a red-or-black spin of the roulette wheel, and if he loses, I have to pay to bail him out.
I don't even have a defense to offer on that one. Naive. Stupid. Where in the world did I get such an antiquated world-view.
Today? Every day, I look myself in the mirror and wonder why in the world I'm such a chump. The worst part? It gets worse every day. I weep for the country that our children will be inheriting. By that time, there will probably be 20 people in the wagon for every person pulling it.
If that poor fool pulling the wagon stumbles? The government will finish him off. He won't be able to pay his taxes, which will make him utterly useless to all the folks in the wagon.
Woe be unto the fool who thinks he can get ahead by hard work and square dealing. It just doesn't seem to happen like that these days. For the most part, it looks like our role is to keep the system going so the folks in the wagon, bureaucrats and Wall Streeters included, can make their fortunes while we toil away.
For instance, today's mail? Contained a letter from the State of Michigan saying that my 2009 Michigan Single Business tax return was incorrect. They wanted me to send them about $1,500 because of the mistake.
Problem is, there wasn't any mistake. The two errors they think they caught were that they claim they never received my quarterly estimated payments, and that they don't have a record of carrying over an overpayment from 2008.
So, I ran to the bank to get front and back images of the checks I wrote them, which I sent them, which were deposited, and which, after all that, they claim they never received.
The carried over overpayment? All I can do there is show them copies of my 2008 return since it's not possible for me to show them that I didn't get the refund. "Look, see? Here's the check I didn't get."
All I can do is show them that I asked them to apply it to my 2009 tax bill.
This tax, by the way, is a particularly insidious one. For those not familiar, Michigan has a tax called the "Single Business Tax", which taxes businesses based on gross, not net, volume.
It is one of many, many reasons why nobody in their right mind puts a business in Michigan if they can avoid it.
Michigan's attitude towards jobs is pretty good. They want them. They want lots of them. They want them to pay well.
This, unfortunately, does not jibe with their attitude about businesses, which is that if you create one, they'll jump on your back and ride you like zorro. If you make a dime, they want it. Even if you don't make a dime, taxes like the single business tax will nail you, anyway.
Honestly, this has been a very, very hard year, and things like this hit me harder than they might if I were more prosperous. I'm in the fight of my life trying to meet payroll and keep the lights on, and instead, I lose a day running to the bank and the CPAs office because some state bureaucrat has nothing better to do than to hound people for tax money... even if the people already paid the tax money.
Basically, if you're the little guy, and you're doing the right thing, and every day, you wake up and devote 100% of your business towards doing the right thing, the government steps in, says you did the wrong thing and then the burden of proof is on YOU to show that they're wrong.
But if you're the big guy? And you do the wrong thing? The government takes a bunch of money from the little guy and bails you out. Nice system, that. Seems I got on the wrong side of that equation, though.
I am starting to wonder if I've simply been incredibly naive my entire life. I believed in the power of capitalism. We've all seen what a total joke that is. My faith in capitalism is completely misguided.
Capitalism has nothing to do with life in America right now. If you're politically connected (Wall Streeters and Union Members), then you are immune to not just the laws of capitalism, but the laws of economics.
If you're not politically connected? Well... the state tries to get you to pay your taxes twice. Even if you already paid them. Even if you pay through the nose every year to have a CPA make sure you pay them.
If you make a profit? They are first in line to snag the lion's share of it. Over 15% Social Security and Medicare taxes. If you're lucky, only 20% or so for Federal. Another 5% for State. $4 grand a year for property taxes. (Unless you've paid on two houses, like I have... then, it's $8,000.) Local income taxes. Business taxes. Sales taxes.
If you're lucky, you get to keep less than half of what you made.
If you're not profitable? Hey, you need to be destroyed by the creative destruction of capitalism... never mind that all the taxes you've paid your entire life saved UAW members and Wall Street from this same necessary creative destruction.
I believed that it was virtuous to work hard. Again, what a joke. Far better to go to Wall Street, take a home run swing every day and if you strike out, make the taxpayer hold you aloft until you can take another swing at a multimillion dollar payday.
Rather than working, having a small business, how much farther along would I be to just be a slip and fall attorney? Sue these insurers every day. Make some poor schmuck with a small business pay for it by paying his premiums so that the insurer and the attorneys can get rich. When I say attorneys, by the way, I mean both the plaintiff's and the defendant's attorneys.
Take 1/3 of my clients' insurance settlements? How much better is society off if guys like me, instead of going to a rigorous MBA program and starting a business, went across the campus to the Law School and just became trial lawyers?
Okay, society would be no better off. I sure as heck would, though. I'd be in the wagon, making a living off the efforts of others, instead of being foolish enough to pull the wagon for others.
Every month, I pay my health insurance. Why? So that people on public assistance can have better health coverage than most low-wage workers? So that Obama can make secret backroom deals that ensure that pharma and insurers will always rip us off and that 10% annual increases will never stop?
Why even try? Why keep pulling this wagon? Used to be I thought it was a point of pride. I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought business was my calling.
Now? I think I've just been stupid, and naive. That I was dumb enough to be idealistic. That I was foolish enough to work hard. That I was pathetic enough to believe that I could compete in the market.
When I was young, I was raised by a grandfather and grandmother on social security. I wore used clothing from garage sales and shoes from KMart. Little did I know that I was actually entitled to a check from social security every month because I was the dependent of a retiree.
My grandparents would never have even dreamed something like this would be possible. How would they? They, like me, believed that the way you got ahead in life was to work hard, take care of yourself and live within your means.
How silly they were. The way you get ahead is to find out what the government is subsidizing, then milk the hell out of it. If the government subsidizes home mortgages? You get rich selling subprime mortgages. If the government is subsidizing college tuition? You get rich by opening a diploma-mill "college".
If you aren't thinking on that sort of scale, you get on the dole, then milk the crap out of that. Your kids go to college for free. You get a caseworker who tells you which offices to go to, and you get to live a modest life without ever doing a speck of work.
My grandparents weren't hip to this. They worked their fingers to the bone for their modest lives. Their kids, myself included, had to join the military to afford college. What a bunch of suckers we all were.
What I needed to do was spend all my time thinking about how to be in the wagon, instead of pulling it.
I spent 4 years active duty and almost that much time in the reserves willing to defend this system. Again, I'm a chump. I'm willing to die so some Wall Street banker can bet a zillion dollars of other people's money on a red-or-black spin of the roulette wheel, and if he loses, I have to pay to bail him out.
I don't even have a defense to offer on that one. Naive. Stupid. Where in the world did I get such an antiquated world-view.
Today? Every day, I look myself in the mirror and wonder why in the world I'm such a chump. The worst part? It gets worse every day. I weep for the country that our children will be inheriting. By that time, there will probably be 20 people in the wagon for every person pulling it.
If that poor fool pulling the wagon stumbles? The government will finish him off. He won't be able to pay his taxes, which will make him utterly useless to all the folks in the wagon.
Woe be unto the fool who thinks he can get ahead by hard work and square dealing. It just doesn't seem to happen like that these days. For the most part, it looks like our role is to keep the system going so the folks in the wagon, bureaucrats and Wall Streeters included, can make their fortunes while we toil away.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
6 years without a job...
It was October 15 of 2004 that I worked my last day as an employee. I'm reminded of this because I'm putting my first van up for sale right now. Back when the company consisted of me and a truck, this was the truck.
It's pretty old, now. Runs strong, but at almost 100,000 hard miles, it's going to be at a point where it's going to get unreliable. The truckmount (carpet cleaning machine) in it works great, but it's old, too. For years, that was my workhorse.
Funny to think back on how awesome these past 6 years have been. It's easy to compartmentalize them.
Year one: exhausting, not profitable, but encouraging.
Year two: money
Year three: more money.
Year four: even more money, country club membership, started to really get on a solid foundation.
Year five: First half, like year four. Second half, like year six.
Year six: total crap
It's not easy to be in small business, especially during times like these. Business has been awful.
Still, of all the things I've ever done in my life, these past six years have been, by far, the most enjoyable. I really love this.
I have a lot of anxiety about 2011. Things really died for us mid 2009. I kept thinking, "no way it can stay like this. 2010 has to be good."
Well... no, it doesn't. And there's nothing that says 2011 will be better. In fact, there's nothing to say that 2011 will be as good as 2010.
Still, you have to have a stubborn streak, and a bit of wild eyed optimism to be an entrepreneur.
All in all, I will probably be selling this business, for various reasons related to my long-term goals in life. After that, I'll be looking for something else to do. Maybe take a year off and clear my head. Who knows.
So, I start year 7 in not that much different shape than I was in when I very first opened my doors. There were three songs that I used to play to keep myself pumped up back then.
The first was the Push Stars, "Lucky Sevens". The lyrics that lifted me were, "Hey, disarray is just a moment away, but that's why I've survived all this time."
The next was the song "Living on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi. Particularly the lyrics, "you live for the fight when that's all that you've got".
The last was "save a horse, ride a cowboy" by Big and Rich. Especially the lyrics, "I'm the only John Wayne left in this town."
When you own a small business and it struggles, there aren't a lot of choices left for you. You can just give up and wallow in self-pity. I've been there and done that. Eventually, though, you go all-in. You back up until your back is against the wall and you come out swinging.
A year from now, I could be writing anything. That I had to declare bankruptcy and take a job. I could be writing that my reorg worked and I made money despite another year of anemic volume. I could be rich again.
It's never dull. I guess that's why not everybody does it. It just isn't for everyone. There are plenty of days when I wonder if I'm really up to the task or not. There are other days when being an entreprenuer is a calling.
I still get a little weepy when I see a business close its doors. That's somebody's dreams that just got shattered, along with a big chunk of their financial well-being.
If I can keep this thing afloat, eventually, something will pan out. It's times like these that let you spend the money you make during good times with a clear conscience.
It's pretty old, now. Runs strong, but at almost 100,000 hard miles, it's going to be at a point where it's going to get unreliable. The truckmount (carpet cleaning machine) in it works great, but it's old, too. For years, that was my workhorse.
Funny to think back on how awesome these past 6 years have been. It's easy to compartmentalize them.
Year one: exhausting, not profitable, but encouraging.
Year two: money
Year three: more money.
Year four: even more money, country club membership, started to really get on a solid foundation.
Year five: First half, like year four. Second half, like year six.
Year six: total crap
It's not easy to be in small business, especially during times like these. Business has been awful.
Still, of all the things I've ever done in my life, these past six years have been, by far, the most enjoyable. I really love this.
I have a lot of anxiety about 2011. Things really died for us mid 2009. I kept thinking, "no way it can stay like this. 2010 has to be good."
Well... no, it doesn't. And there's nothing that says 2011 will be better. In fact, there's nothing to say that 2011 will be as good as 2010.
Still, you have to have a stubborn streak, and a bit of wild eyed optimism to be an entrepreneur.
All in all, I will probably be selling this business, for various reasons related to my long-term goals in life. After that, I'll be looking for something else to do. Maybe take a year off and clear my head. Who knows.
So, I start year 7 in not that much different shape than I was in when I very first opened my doors. There were three songs that I used to play to keep myself pumped up back then.
The first was the Push Stars, "Lucky Sevens". The lyrics that lifted me were, "Hey, disarray is just a moment away, but that's why I've survived all this time."
The next was the song "Living on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi. Particularly the lyrics, "you live for the fight when that's all that you've got".
The last was "save a horse, ride a cowboy" by Big and Rich. Especially the lyrics, "I'm the only John Wayne left in this town."
When you own a small business and it struggles, there aren't a lot of choices left for you. You can just give up and wallow in self-pity. I've been there and done that. Eventually, though, you go all-in. You back up until your back is against the wall and you come out swinging.
A year from now, I could be writing anything. That I had to declare bankruptcy and take a job. I could be writing that my reorg worked and I made money despite another year of anemic volume. I could be rich again.
It's never dull. I guess that's why not everybody does it. It just isn't for everyone. There are plenty of days when I wonder if I'm really up to the task or not. There are other days when being an entreprenuer is a calling.
I still get a little weepy when I see a business close its doors. That's somebody's dreams that just got shattered, along with a big chunk of their financial well-being.
If I can keep this thing afloat, eventually, something will pan out. It's times like these that let you spend the money you make during good times with a clear conscience.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Lost Another Friend
I just got word that a friend from High School, Scott Hill, just passed away. Scott and I had a sort of strange relationship. After the 9th grade, I stopped playing sports, entirely, and turned even more moody and sullen than usual. I never quite fit in with the jock crowd. I didn't do enough homework to fit in with the braniac nerds.
I started playing guitar and hanging out at the outcast table at lunch, just biding my time waiting for High School to end, so my life could begin.
"Outcast table" is a bit harsh. We were just sort of a collection of odds and ends that didn't fit neatly into any of the other obvious groups at the High School. We had a wrestler, a techie nerd (believe it or don't, there was a time when this was a really, really unusual thing in a High School), a new kid at school, me, and Scott.
I don't know what role I played in the group. Maybe the underachieving slacker. Scott was the stoner of the group. I'm not sure that he necessarily did all that many drugs. Just more than most of the kids in my high school, which meant that he did some. Probably not a lot, especially by college standards. Just a lot compared to kids who didn't do any.
It still sort of surprises me that our group got along so well. It wasn't a clique. Cliques control their membership and actually kick people out of the group or accept people into it. Us? We were, each in our own way, a bunch of loners, but who were social enough to want to hang out together with somebody at lunch. Other than the techie nerd, everybody was pretty vocal. We'd discuss a wide variety of topics and by no means did we agree with each other on much.
I think the main thing was, nobody was judgemental. We all accepted each other at face value, and there was a total absence of bullying or belittling of each other.
I liked Scott. Granted, he wasn't exactly the typical profile of somebody a future Republican would gravitate to, but he was easygoing, nice, funny. He also played guitar, which gave us something in common.
I bumped into him now and then in life afterwards. In testament to the fact that for most people, what you are in High School has no bearing on what you are once you get to live life on your own terms, he eventually rose to be CIO of his company. At the time of his passing, he had a beautiful wife and two beautiful kids.
It was cancer that did him in.
We re-connected via Facebook, and to be perfectly honest, it struck me as a bit astounding how he'd turned his life into something so overwhelmingly positive. Not long after we touched base, his status updates indicated that he was pretty sick.
Personally, I wouldn't re-live my High School years. I'd go back to pretty much any time in my life, other than that. I think a lot of folks think of High School as the best years of their lives. I thought it was a miserable experience on par with being in prison. I actually liked Army basic training more than I liked High School.
If I had to guess, I bet most of us at that table felt the same way about it.
There were some very positive things that came out of High School, though. One of which was that I got to meet and interact with people who I very likely would not have, under most other circumstances. I got to where I really looked forward to lunch period and sitting at the outcast table with my fellow untouchables.
Scott was a big part of the reason why. For the record, Scott had impeccable music taste. He listened to Bad Company and was into Pink Floyd long before everybody hopped on their bandwagon after "The Wall". He had a Gretsch guitar that he got from his Dad, I believe. He was self-conscious about being thin.
Mostly, though, he was a good guy and a gentle soul. It's sad to think I'll never see him again.
I started playing guitar and hanging out at the outcast table at lunch, just biding my time waiting for High School to end, so my life could begin.
"Outcast table" is a bit harsh. We were just sort of a collection of odds and ends that didn't fit neatly into any of the other obvious groups at the High School. We had a wrestler, a techie nerd (believe it or don't, there was a time when this was a really, really unusual thing in a High School), a new kid at school, me, and Scott.
I don't know what role I played in the group. Maybe the underachieving slacker. Scott was the stoner of the group. I'm not sure that he necessarily did all that many drugs. Just more than most of the kids in my high school, which meant that he did some. Probably not a lot, especially by college standards. Just a lot compared to kids who didn't do any.
It still sort of surprises me that our group got along so well. It wasn't a clique. Cliques control their membership and actually kick people out of the group or accept people into it. Us? We were, each in our own way, a bunch of loners, but who were social enough to want to hang out together with somebody at lunch. Other than the techie nerd, everybody was pretty vocal. We'd discuss a wide variety of topics and by no means did we agree with each other on much.
I think the main thing was, nobody was judgemental. We all accepted each other at face value, and there was a total absence of bullying or belittling of each other.
I liked Scott. Granted, he wasn't exactly the typical profile of somebody a future Republican would gravitate to, but he was easygoing, nice, funny. He also played guitar, which gave us something in common.
I bumped into him now and then in life afterwards. In testament to the fact that for most people, what you are in High School has no bearing on what you are once you get to live life on your own terms, he eventually rose to be CIO of his company. At the time of his passing, he had a beautiful wife and two beautiful kids.
It was cancer that did him in.
We re-connected via Facebook, and to be perfectly honest, it struck me as a bit astounding how he'd turned his life into something so overwhelmingly positive. Not long after we touched base, his status updates indicated that he was pretty sick.
Personally, I wouldn't re-live my High School years. I'd go back to pretty much any time in my life, other than that. I think a lot of folks think of High School as the best years of their lives. I thought it was a miserable experience on par with being in prison. I actually liked Army basic training more than I liked High School.
If I had to guess, I bet most of us at that table felt the same way about it.
There were some very positive things that came out of High School, though. One of which was that I got to meet and interact with people who I very likely would not have, under most other circumstances. I got to where I really looked forward to lunch period and sitting at the outcast table with my fellow untouchables.
Scott was a big part of the reason why. For the record, Scott had impeccable music taste. He listened to Bad Company and was into Pink Floyd long before everybody hopped on their bandwagon after "The Wall". He had a Gretsch guitar that he got from his Dad, I believe. He was self-conscious about being thin.
Mostly, though, he was a good guy and a gentle soul. It's sad to think I'll never see him again.
Monday, November 8, 2010
A Navy Reservist Walks Into an Arab Shopkeeper's Store...
Okay, that's not the setup to a joke. That's what happened yesterday when we went to Dearborn. One of the things we did was go into a store that specialized in Arabic language DVDs and CDs. The store-owner was watching a documentary about the American military in Viet Nam, which I found more than a little odd.
Below the TV was a picture of a handsome young man in ACUs (Army Combat Uniform) and the new black beret that all Army troops wear. (Now that the black beret has been de-Rangerized.)
I asked who the young man was, and he said, "He's my son. He's in Iraq right now."
The tone of his voice struck me as more worried than proud, but proud nonetheless. I can't imagine what it would be like to have a young son in harm's way. I think if my son were to ever spend a year in a war zone, that would be a year without sleep for me.
I am embarassed and ashamed to admit that I had quite a bit of anti-muslim sentiment after 9/11. I wasn't about to commit a hate crime. I also was as friendly as possible to anybody who appeared Muslim when I met them in day-to-day life.
My disdain was more for the group than for individuals. Generally speaking, in my life, I've found it difficult to dislike individual people. Groups? I can dislike the heck out of them, but if there's a hardness of heart that allows a person to look another person in the eye and dislike them just for what they believe, I don't have it.
The one thing that cracked that facade for me was knowing that thousands of Arab-Americans are wearing the uniform in harm's way. Some of them will never come home. By home, of course, I mean to America. Mike Monsoor comes to mind, and I know there are others.
Arab Americans feel uncomfortable in the United States in the days after 9/11. Granted, I think some of them bring a lot of this on themselves. If you wear a burkha, you sort of subject yourself to ridicule in my opinion. Now, though, you probably subject yourself to hostility. I mean, how much of that is really necessary to practice Islam? Who knows. I know I don't.
The fact that people can let their conscience dictate what they feel is an appropriate level of piety and religious observance is one of the greatest of our freedoms, in my opinion. Don't force your beliefs on me, and I won't tell you how you should believe.
In addition to being a form of common courtesy, and observance of the golden rule, we actually have this idea spelled out in the constitution.
It's so easy to demonize people who speak differently, dress differently, worship differently.
Ultimately, though, I could never quite escape the conclusion that doing so is hateful and not particularly clever.
I learn lessons from my boy all the time. One of the more important ones is that way he accepts and appreciates all people, regardless of appearance. He thinks differences are interesting and entertaining. However, he judges people by how they act, not what they look like.
He once stood up for a kid at school named Rouch, who was being teased because his mother had packed him some Dora the Explorer yogurt. They were good friends until Rouch moved away.
When he graduated from pre-school, when everybody got a little award, his was obvious and probably easy to identify. His award was called "Everybody's Friend".
In this way, I really try to be like my son. To judge less, to accept more. To appreciate the goodness and humanity in everybody.
It always amazed me that during World War II, my grandmother's brothers served. They were Hungarian and suffered discrimination during the 30s. When the war started, though, they raised their hand and fought for their country. Not Hungary: they fought for the United States of America, even though they were first generation Americans.
In my opinion, too many people take being American for granted. However, that Arab-American shopkeeper and his son clearly do not.
I feel a kinship and fellowship with them as my countrymen to a greater degree than I do with many who have never had to examine what makes them American.
I'm very, very glad to have taken this class. I'm also fortunate that although I don't live in the most racially diverse community, that the greater Toledo area has a high percentage of Arab Americans. There is also a Hindu temple about a mile from my house.
As a person who experiences the world primarily with my stomach, I eat at Indian Delis, and Lebanese restaurants every week.
Now, do I believe that radical Islam is a problem? Yes. Do I think it's more of a problem than, say, radical Christianity or militant Judaism? In all honesty, yes.
I also believe that my Arab-American and Islamic-American neighbors are really no different than I am. They want to raise their kids to be happy and healthy.
They want to live lives of quiet prosperity.
UItimately, when push comes to shove, they see something unique and beautiful in America that is worth defending, is worth fighting for, and ultimately may be worth dying for.
I hope that Arab-American shopkeeper's boy comes home safe and sound. We need all the great Americans here that we can get.
Below the TV was a picture of a handsome young man in ACUs (Army Combat Uniform) and the new black beret that all Army troops wear. (Now that the black beret has been de-Rangerized.)
I asked who the young man was, and he said, "He's my son. He's in Iraq right now."
The tone of his voice struck me as more worried than proud, but proud nonetheless. I can't imagine what it would be like to have a young son in harm's way. I think if my son were to ever spend a year in a war zone, that would be a year without sleep for me.
I am embarassed and ashamed to admit that I had quite a bit of anti-muslim sentiment after 9/11. I wasn't about to commit a hate crime. I also was as friendly as possible to anybody who appeared Muslim when I met them in day-to-day life.
My disdain was more for the group than for individuals. Generally speaking, in my life, I've found it difficult to dislike individual people. Groups? I can dislike the heck out of them, but if there's a hardness of heart that allows a person to look another person in the eye and dislike them just for what they believe, I don't have it.
The one thing that cracked that facade for me was knowing that thousands of Arab-Americans are wearing the uniform in harm's way. Some of them will never come home. By home, of course, I mean to America. Mike Monsoor comes to mind, and I know there are others.
Arab Americans feel uncomfortable in the United States in the days after 9/11. Granted, I think some of them bring a lot of this on themselves. If you wear a burkha, you sort of subject yourself to ridicule in my opinion. Now, though, you probably subject yourself to hostility. I mean, how much of that is really necessary to practice Islam? Who knows. I know I don't.
The fact that people can let their conscience dictate what they feel is an appropriate level of piety and religious observance is one of the greatest of our freedoms, in my opinion. Don't force your beliefs on me, and I won't tell you how you should believe.
In addition to being a form of common courtesy, and observance of the golden rule, we actually have this idea spelled out in the constitution.
It's so easy to demonize people who speak differently, dress differently, worship differently.
Ultimately, though, I could never quite escape the conclusion that doing so is hateful and not particularly clever.
I learn lessons from my boy all the time. One of the more important ones is that way he accepts and appreciates all people, regardless of appearance. He thinks differences are interesting and entertaining. However, he judges people by how they act, not what they look like.
He once stood up for a kid at school named Rouch, who was being teased because his mother had packed him some Dora the Explorer yogurt. They were good friends until Rouch moved away.
When he graduated from pre-school, when everybody got a little award, his was obvious and probably easy to identify. His award was called "Everybody's Friend".
In this way, I really try to be like my son. To judge less, to accept more. To appreciate the goodness and humanity in everybody.
It always amazed me that during World War II, my grandmother's brothers served. They were Hungarian and suffered discrimination during the 30s. When the war started, though, they raised their hand and fought for their country. Not Hungary: they fought for the United States of America, even though they were first generation Americans.
In my opinion, too many people take being American for granted. However, that Arab-American shopkeeper and his son clearly do not.
I feel a kinship and fellowship with them as my countrymen to a greater degree than I do with many who have never had to examine what makes them American.
I'm very, very glad to have taken this class. I'm also fortunate that although I don't live in the most racially diverse community, that the greater Toledo area has a high percentage of Arab Americans. There is also a Hindu temple about a mile from my house.
As a person who experiences the world primarily with my stomach, I eat at Indian Delis, and Lebanese restaurants every week.
Now, do I believe that radical Islam is a problem? Yes. Do I think it's more of a problem than, say, radical Christianity or militant Judaism? In all honesty, yes.
I also believe that my Arab-American and Islamic-American neighbors are really no different than I am. They want to raise their kids to be happy and healthy.
They want to live lives of quiet prosperity.
UItimately, when push comes to shove, they see something unique and beautiful in America that is worth defending, is worth fighting for, and ultimately may be worth dying for.
I hope that Arab-American shopkeeper's boy comes home safe and sound. We need all the great Americans here that we can get.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Making friends as always
I've often wondered whether I'm just an annoying person or what. Do I just naturally piss people off? Do I just have a face that unknowlingly exudes scorn and brings out the worst in people? Is it just that I'm outspoken? Or perhaps that I'm a combination of outspoken and impulsive, which means I'm frequently saying stupid or poorly thought-out things out loud? Am I unwittingly one of those annoying, sophomoric nerds that nobody can stand?
As an example, we had our class field-trip today for Arabic class. Two of the students for the class are a German professor and the chair of the language department at the Juco who is a French professor.
I was looking forward to the ride up so I could get to know folks a little more. Mostly, I wanted to get to know the kids in the class, but I ended up sitting by the old people, including the two ladies who were also teachers at the school.
We were chatting and everything went fine, but then it was the strangest thing. I'll just explain it as it unfolded because there's not a lot of other ways to go about telling this tale.
The German teacher was talking about living in Germany. She taught English and got her degree there. (In English... all I can think about is that song "mexican Americans... take spanish and get Cs.")
She then said something about having to demonstrate proficiency in British English. That proficiency in American English wasn't good enough for her employer.
This is where things completely jumped the track.
I said something to the effect of, "That's funny, because in a lot of ways, American English is more English than British English."
You would have thought I called her a fat old cat-lady.
She said, flaty, "No, it isn't."
Having clearly touched a nerve, here, I could have gone one of two ways. Just said, "oh, okay" left it at that, or try to explain my position.
I think you know which way I took this.
So, I said, "Well, if you think about it, our English is more Anglo-Saxon. British-English has more French influences."
This, of course, got the French teacher involved. And because they probably both thought I was a French basher, they went off.
The German teacher said, "Of course there are French influences. You can't have English without French".
Me: "Of course. I'm not saying that there aren't French influences. I am saying, though, that as the two languages diverged, American English stayed truer to Anglo-Saxon English, and British English kept absorbing French influence."
Her: "All English has French influence because English is a romance language."
Me: "No, English is a Germanic language." (Odd that I would have to explain this to a teacher of German.)
Her: "yes, but English is half French."
Me: "Half?"
Her: "Okay, not half, but it's got a lot of French."
Me: "I think you misunderstand my point. In the 1600s, our English and the British English were essentially identical, right?"
Her: "I have a degree in English and it's what I teach (she also teaches ESL). What's your background?"
Me: "Now, wait here. I agree you have an education in English, but that doesn't mean that nobody else is allowed to have an opinion or an idea on the subject."
(I wanted to point out that this type of argument from authority is considered the mark of a person who is being out-debated, but figured things were already bad enough. Mostly, I just wanted her to calm her fat ass down for 20 seconds so I could try to explain what I meant by my statement.)
Her: Well, English and French go back a long way, long before the 1600s. In the Magna Carta and other documents, both English and French words were used in legal contexts and they're still used that way in our laws today.
(Wondering, now, how it is possible that I can so badly be communicating my idea that she's clearly not even understanding what I'm saying. This, of course, has nothing to do with the divergence between English-English and American-English as there was simply "english" at the time. Also, the use of french words in legal code is a topic with which I am also not totally unfamiliar, but it didn't have anything to do with the topic at hand.)
Me: Well... let's roll the clock forward just a little bit. In the 1800s, you had Webster's dictionary and Samual Johnson's dictionary, and the two of them clearly show some pretty big differences between the two languages.
Her: I still don't see how that makes British English more French.
Me: How do you spell color and theater?
Her: That doesn't make their language French. They speak English just like we do.
Me: Obviously. Hence the word "english". It's their language. It originated there. I'm just saying that since the two dialects diverged, ours has remained more anglo-saxon and theirs continued to be influenced by French to a greater degree.
(And starting to really wonder, here... weren't the Saxons German? I mean, why is this a foreign concept to a German teacher?)
Anyway, at this point, she was clearly angry. There wasn't much to do here, but interject, "You're getting really angry about this whole discussion."
Her: And you're not?
Me: No, not really. I'm just trying to throw out an idea because I thought you might find the topic interesting to discuss.
Later, in the Arab-American museum, she apologized, twice. I have no idea why she lost her mind like she did. I told her no problem, I was getting a little excited about the topic, too. (Which isn't true. I was getting agitated at her incredible rudeness and the fact that she was either being obtuse or she just didn't know much about the topic at hand.)
I told her, "I really wasn't trying to offend you. I was just trying to bring up an idea that I found interesting."
Maybe it was that I wasn't falling for her appeal to authority. Though, frankly, I do think it's a little chicken-shit to go to a foreign country and get a degree in English. Seriously. That'd be like a Spaniard going to the trouble to attend a US university, then getting a degree in Spanish.
Or, maybe she thought I was being rude and didn't know much about the topic at hand.
Could also be that her boss is a French teacher and she thought somehow she was defending French. Who knows.
Honestly, though, it's pretty clear that she hasn't given this a lot of thought. I mean, yeah, I can see how I might be a little annoying while discussing this subject. I have a smatterring of trival anectdotes, and never really studied the subject seriously.
But at the same time, I have a bachelor's and master's degree and know the level of expertise that those degrees demonstrate. For the most part, sorry, but holding a bachelor's in a subject doesn't make a person an expert by any stretch. I'd expect pretty much any reasonably well-read person to be able to discuss a topic at about the same level as your garden variety baccalaureate holder and unless a master's degree holder has research in a specific are, I wouldn't necessarily presume that a master's degree indicates that a person is thinking on a higher, inaccessible plane.
With no offense intended, I don't think a person needs, for instance, a law degree to intelligently discuss the law, or to have an opinion about it, or to have areas within the law where they're particularly well-informed.
Anyway, I didn't even get to bring up the fact that some folks believe that the closest we can get to hearing shakespeare's english is in some remote areas of applachia, etc.
In fact, pretty much every point I brought up was ignored as though it was a personal attack.
She simply pretended that questions like, "why do the british spell colour and theatre the way they do?" weren't asked and would go off on some tangent.
In fact, she basically refused to acknowledge that the languages diverged in the 1600s.
Or, more precisely, it was pretty obvious that she never gave it any thought.
I guess it's been a long, long time since I've been around a person who just completely came unglued when discussing a topic of trivial importance. I mean, she REALLY got pissed off.
I used to have these sorts of exchanges a lot when I was a LOT younger. In fact, more often than not, I was probably the one getting bent all out of shape and emotional while discussing a topic of minor importance. Then... well... my 20s ended.
Maybe it's just that she thinks I'm a student and she's a teacher and she's not used to being challenged. (The mark of a very, very inadequate teacher, by the way.)
So, when I got home, I was thinking, "Well... maybe this is just a fringe idea that I've heard and adopted because I like it." I mean, thinking back, the book that first introduced me to the idea, "origin of the specious" is just one book.
So, did a quick google search and one of the first sites I pulled up had:
"Also significant beginning around 1600 AD was the English colonization of North America and the subsequent creation of a distinct American dialect. Some pronunciations and usages “froze” when they reached the American shore. In certain respects, American English is closer to the English of Shakespeare than modern British English is."
http://www.wordorigins.org/index.php/site/comments/a_very_brief_history_of_the_english_language3/
Which is not, of course, to say that I am right on the subject. Just that I'm not totally out of my tree and that others hold the same idea.
As for whether or not English-English is more French because Samuel Johnson's dictionary favored Norman spelling as opposed to Webster's which tended towards Anglo-Saxon is probably debatable.
Personally, I was just trying to introduce a topic of discussion based on where the conversation was going. I didn't expect it to piss anybody off.
Sometimes, though... I think I just have that effect on people.
As an example, we had our class field-trip today for Arabic class. Two of the students for the class are a German professor and the chair of the language department at the Juco who is a French professor.
I was looking forward to the ride up so I could get to know folks a little more. Mostly, I wanted to get to know the kids in the class, but I ended up sitting by the old people, including the two ladies who were also teachers at the school.
We were chatting and everything went fine, but then it was the strangest thing. I'll just explain it as it unfolded because there's not a lot of other ways to go about telling this tale.
The German teacher was talking about living in Germany. She taught English and got her degree there. (In English... all I can think about is that song "mexican Americans... take spanish and get Cs.")
She then said something about having to demonstrate proficiency in British English. That proficiency in American English wasn't good enough for her employer.
This is where things completely jumped the track.
I said something to the effect of, "That's funny, because in a lot of ways, American English is more English than British English."
You would have thought I called her a fat old cat-lady.
She said, flaty, "No, it isn't."
Having clearly touched a nerve, here, I could have gone one of two ways. Just said, "oh, okay" left it at that, or try to explain my position.
I think you know which way I took this.
So, I said, "Well, if you think about it, our English is more Anglo-Saxon. British-English has more French influences."
This, of course, got the French teacher involved. And because they probably both thought I was a French basher, they went off.
The German teacher said, "Of course there are French influences. You can't have English without French".
Me: "Of course. I'm not saying that there aren't French influences. I am saying, though, that as the two languages diverged, American English stayed truer to Anglo-Saxon English, and British English kept absorbing French influence."
Her: "All English has French influence because English is a romance language."
Me: "No, English is a Germanic language." (Odd that I would have to explain this to a teacher of German.)
Her: "yes, but English is half French."
Me: "Half?"
Her: "Okay, not half, but it's got a lot of French."
Me: "I think you misunderstand my point. In the 1600s, our English and the British English were essentially identical, right?"
Her: "I have a degree in English and it's what I teach (she also teaches ESL). What's your background?"
Me: "Now, wait here. I agree you have an education in English, but that doesn't mean that nobody else is allowed to have an opinion or an idea on the subject."
(I wanted to point out that this type of argument from authority is considered the mark of a person who is being out-debated, but figured things were already bad enough. Mostly, I just wanted her to calm her fat ass down for 20 seconds so I could try to explain what I meant by my statement.)
Her: Well, English and French go back a long way, long before the 1600s. In the Magna Carta and other documents, both English and French words were used in legal contexts and they're still used that way in our laws today.
(Wondering, now, how it is possible that I can so badly be communicating my idea that she's clearly not even understanding what I'm saying. This, of course, has nothing to do with the divergence between English-English and American-English as there was simply "english" at the time. Also, the use of french words in legal code is a topic with which I am also not totally unfamiliar, but it didn't have anything to do with the topic at hand.)
Me: Well... let's roll the clock forward just a little bit. In the 1800s, you had Webster's dictionary and Samual Johnson's dictionary, and the two of them clearly show some pretty big differences between the two languages.
Her: I still don't see how that makes British English more French.
Me: How do you spell color and theater?
Her: That doesn't make their language French. They speak English just like we do.
Me: Obviously. Hence the word "english". It's their language. It originated there. I'm just saying that since the two dialects diverged, ours has remained more anglo-saxon and theirs continued to be influenced by French to a greater degree.
(And starting to really wonder, here... weren't the Saxons German? I mean, why is this a foreign concept to a German teacher?)
Anyway, at this point, she was clearly angry. There wasn't much to do here, but interject, "You're getting really angry about this whole discussion."
Her: And you're not?
Me: No, not really. I'm just trying to throw out an idea because I thought you might find the topic interesting to discuss.
Later, in the Arab-American museum, she apologized, twice. I have no idea why she lost her mind like she did. I told her no problem, I was getting a little excited about the topic, too. (Which isn't true. I was getting agitated at her incredible rudeness and the fact that she was either being obtuse or she just didn't know much about the topic at hand.)
I told her, "I really wasn't trying to offend you. I was just trying to bring up an idea that I found interesting."
Maybe it was that I wasn't falling for her appeal to authority. Though, frankly, I do think it's a little chicken-shit to go to a foreign country and get a degree in English. Seriously. That'd be like a Spaniard going to the trouble to attend a US university, then getting a degree in Spanish.
Or, maybe she thought I was being rude and didn't know much about the topic at hand.
Could also be that her boss is a French teacher and she thought somehow she was defending French. Who knows.
Honestly, though, it's pretty clear that she hasn't given this a lot of thought. I mean, yeah, I can see how I might be a little annoying while discussing this subject. I have a smatterring of trival anectdotes, and never really studied the subject seriously.
But at the same time, I have a bachelor's and master's degree and know the level of expertise that those degrees demonstrate. For the most part, sorry, but holding a bachelor's in a subject doesn't make a person an expert by any stretch. I'd expect pretty much any reasonably well-read person to be able to discuss a topic at about the same level as your garden variety baccalaureate holder and unless a master's degree holder has research in a specific are, I wouldn't necessarily presume that a master's degree indicates that a person is thinking on a higher, inaccessible plane.
With no offense intended, I don't think a person needs, for instance, a law degree to intelligently discuss the law, or to have an opinion about it, or to have areas within the law where they're particularly well-informed.
Anyway, I didn't even get to bring up the fact that some folks believe that the closest we can get to hearing shakespeare's english is in some remote areas of applachia, etc.
In fact, pretty much every point I brought up was ignored as though it was a personal attack.
She simply pretended that questions like, "why do the british spell colour and theatre the way they do?" weren't asked and would go off on some tangent.
In fact, she basically refused to acknowledge that the languages diverged in the 1600s.
Or, more precisely, it was pretty obvious that she never gave it any thought.
I guess it's been a long, long time since I've been around a person who just completely came unglued when discussing a topic of trivial importance. I mean, she REALLY got pissed off.
I used to have these sorts of exchanges a lot when I was a LOT younger. In fact, more often than not, I was probably the one getting bent all out of shape and emotional while discussing a topic of minor importance. Then... well... my 20s ended.
Maybe it's just that she thinks I'm a student and she's a teacher and she's not used to being challenged. (The mark of a very, very inadequate teacher, by the way.)
So, when I got home, I was thinking, "Well... maybe this is just a fringe idea that I've heard and adopted because I like it." I mean, thinking back, the book that first introduced me to the idea, "origin of the specious" is just one book.
So, did a quick google search and one of the first sites I pulled up had:
"Also significant beginning around 1600 AD was the English colonization of North America and the subsequent creation of a distinct American dialect. Some pronunciations and usages “froze” when they reached the American shore. In certain respects, American English is closer to the English of Shakespeare than modern British English is."
http://www.wordorigins.org/index.php/site/comments/a_very_brief_history_of_the_english_language3/
Which is not, of course, to say that I am right on the subject. Just that I'm not totally out of my tree and that others hold the same idea.
As for whether or not English-English is more French because Samuel Johnson's dictionary favored Norman spelling as opposed to Webster's which tended towards Anglo-Saxon is probably debatable.
Personally, I was just trying to introduce a topic of discussion based on where the conversation was going. I didn't expect it to piss anybody off.
Sometimes, though... I think I just have that effect on people.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
What Lessons Does the Election Hold for Our President and Legislators?
The election went pretty much as predicted. A few more Republican seats in the House, but in the Senate and Gubernatorial races, things went pretty much like the polls were indicating they would.
So, what does it mean, and where did things go so wrong for the sea-change for hope and change that happened in 2008?
I agree with our president when he says Republicans drove the car into the ditch. It wasn't entirely them, though. Bill Clinton signed the repeal of Glass Steagall into law, and that was probably the most identifiable proximate cause of the credit default swap and collateralized debt obligation debacle that caused this current economic crisis.
However, it was a Republican congress that was too cozy with Wall Street that pushed that and other nonsensical, pro-bank legislation. George Bush was at the helm of the world's largest economy for 8 years. He bears the blame for this situation to a far greater degree than his Democratic successor or predecessor.
What I saw in this election was an American population that was fearful, angry and tired of waiting.
The fearful part? This economic collapse was so widespread that it affected huge swaths of the population. Even friends who kept good jobs had work-weeks reduced and bonuses eliminated. Yes, obviously, I don't have any friends on Wall Street.
I don't think there was much our president could do about people's anxiety.
However, the angry part? I can relate. I'm mad as hell, too, and I really wish I didn't have to take it anymore.
The Obama administration has been trying furiously to spin the TARP as something positive. It is true that TARP started under George W. Bush. However, the Obama administration and President Obama, himself, have embraced it whole-hog. Congressional Democrats voted for TARP to a greater degree than Congressional Republicans.
Nothing the Obama administration does has been able to do anything but infuriate the voters on TARP. For a while, they were trying the tagline, "it wasn't fair, but it was necessary."
That made voters furious.
Then, they tried, "It is going to cost much less than originally anticipated".
That still made voters furious.
It's as though the folks in Washington are completely oblivious to the fact that when people are sufferring, the last thing they need to be reminded of is that the government mobilized everything in their power to save Wall Street bankers and UAW members, while leaving the rest of the economy to rot.
Originally, they tried spinning TARP by saying, "without it, lending to small business would have dried up."
Trouble is, WITH it, lending to small business dried up.
Other actions taken primarily by the Fed have meant that banks are able to reap record profits without doing any actual banking. They borrow money from the Fed at essentially 0% and invest it in t-bills paying 2 or 3%. They're getting rich just by taking money from the federal government and lending it back to the federal government.
What does this mean?
First, it means they don't need your deposits. That's why they pay virtually no interest on deposits anymore. Why pay interest to a depositor when the government gives you money for free? This is also why they're abandoning free checking programs. Why provide free checking if you're not trying to attract depositors?
Second, it means they don't need to lend money to anybody. Why lend to a borrower, and go through all that work to determine credit-worthiness, when you can make gobs of money lending to the federal government who can just print money whenever it needs to?
So, what to do? Yes, the TARP and the stimulus bills probably helped things. Trouble is, the way they were done meant that the government was choosing winners and losers. Very, very few winners, and lots and lots of losers.
The losers just showed how much they liked this at the ballot box.
Right now, unfortunately, I just don't see any constructive answers moving forward. The House and Senate are divided, so the odds of doing anything important are next to nil.
All I can do is look back on the idiocy of our president who, while staring at the abyss of what is essentially a second great depression, decided to bail out bankers and auto workers, but let the rest of the economy fend for itself. Meanwhile, he went off on a snipe hunt to implement the most incomprehensibly silly and useless health care bill imagineable.
So, the Democrats deserved the drubbing they got. The Republicans didn't deserve the gains they got. The president continues to be a weak and ineffective leader.
In the mean time, folks are losing their homes and businesses. For the most part, I think the business cycle will be left to its own devices to recover. I fear that we're looking at a lost decade, like Japan's. The scary part is, Japan's lost decade is more like 2 decades in a row.
So, what does it mean, and where did things go so wrong for the sea-change for hope and change that happened in 2008?
I agree with our president when he says Republicans drove the car into the ditch. It wasn't entirely them, though. Bill Clinton signed the repeal of Glass Steagall into law, and that was probably the most identifiable proximate cause of the credit default swap and collateralized debt obligation debacle that caused this current economic crisis.
However, it was a Republican congress that was too cozy with Wall Street that pushed that and other nonsensical, pro-bank legislation. George Bush was at the helm of the world's largest economy for 8 years. He bears the blame for this situation to a far greater degree than his Democratic successor or predecessor.
What I saw in this election was an American population that was fearful, angry and tired of waiting.
The fearful part? This economic collapse was so widespread that it affected huge swaths of the population. Even friends who kept good jobs had work-weeks reduced and bonuses eliminated. Yes, obviously, I don't have any friends on Wall Street.
I don't think there was much our president could do about people's anxiety.
However, the angry part? I can relate. I'm mad as hell, too, and I really wish I didn't have to take it anymore.
The Obama administration has been trying furiously to spin the TARP as something positive. It is true that TARP started under George W. Bush. However, the Obama administration and President Obama, himself, have embraced it whole-hog. Congressional Democrats voted for TARP to a greater degree than Congressional Republicans.
Nothing the Obama administration does has been able to do anything but infuriate the voters on TARP. For a while, they were trying the tagline, "it wasn't fair, but it was necessary."
That made voters furious.
Then, they tried, "It is going to cost much less than originally anticipated".
That still made voters furious.
It's as though the folks in Washington are completely oblivious to the fact that when people are sufferring, the last thing they need to be reminded of is that the government mobilized everything in their power to save Wall Street bankers and UAW members, while leaving the rest of the economy to rot.
Originally, they tried spinning TARP by saying, "without it, lending to small business would have dried up."
Trouble is, WITH it, lending to small business dried up.
Other actions taken primarily by the Fed have meant that banks are able to reap record profits without doing any actual banking. They borrow money from the Fed at essentially 0% and invest it in t-bills paying 2 or 3%. They're getting rich just by taking money from the federal government and lending it back to the federal government.
What does this mean?
First, it means they don't need your deposits. That's why they pay virtually no interest on deposits anymore. Why pay interest to a depositor when the government gives you money for free? This is also why they're abandoning free checking programs. Why provide free checking if you're not trying to attract depositors?
Second, it means they don't need to lend money to anybody. Why lend to a borrower, and go through all that work to determine credit-worthiness, when you can make gobs of money lending to the federal government who can just print money whenever it needs to?
So, what to do? Yes, the TARP and the stimulus bills probably helped things. Trouble is, the way they were done meant that the government was choosing winners and losers. Very, very few winners, and lots and lots of losers.
The losers just showed how much they liked this at the ballot box.
Right now, unfortunately, I just don't see any constructive answers moving forward. The House and Senate are divided, so the odds of doing anything important are next to nil.
All I can do is look back on the idiocy of our president who, while staring at the abyss of what is essentially a second great depression, decided to bail out bankers and auto workers, but let the rest of the economy fend for itself. Meanwhile, he went off on a snipe hunt to implement the most incomprehensibly silly and useless health care bill imagineable.
So, the Democrats deserved the drubbing they got. The Republicans didn't deserve the gains they got. The president continues to be a weak and ineffective leader.
In the mean time, folks are losing their homes and businesses. For the most part, I think the business cycle will be left to its own devices to recover. I fear that we're looking at a lost decade, like Japan's. The scary part is, Japan's lost decade is more like 2 decades in a row.
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