She's Gone...

The time had come: she had to move on to someone who would put her through her paces. She had been loyal to me for 12 years. If anyone was guilty of abuse, it was me. But she took it in stride and never struck back. Regardless, our time was over and this chapter was closing.

My wife? Are you crazy? “She” is a 1997 Christen Eagle II: a two-seat aerobatic biplane.

We bought her new and I have enjoyed her for the past dozen years. I’m not here today to boor you with the details of my decision. Rather, I am here to illustrate how the closing of chapters in our lives is a natural occurrence and should not be avoided or delayed unnecessarily.

We see it everyday in various forms. Probably the most common is the aging athlete who refuses to retire. I’ll not mention names, but you know who I’m talking about. Look at other facets of our society and you’ll find similar cases of hanging on to a job or possession long after the time has come to move on. Regardless, many of us keep on keepin’ in the name of competitiveness and what-not. I’d say the truth lies somewhere closer to the inability (or unwillingness) to accept the facts of aging, growing, and changing priorities. “Sell my Harley? Are you nuts? They’ll think I’ve lost my edge and turned into a wimp. No, I don’t ride it anymore, but what does that have to do with it?” Or, “I’d quit, but they need me.”

The closing of chapters is not easy nor does it occur without soul searching and angst. The mind usually leads the way to the inevitable conclusion and awaits the arrival of the heart. But these exercises result in getting to know ourselves better and maybe becoming more comfortable with ourselves at the same time. No one expects you to be the same person you were at 21...why should you?

I’ve had many chapters in my life and some I’ve left behind: an Air Force stint of 20 years (well worth the effort, but rarely missed), 27 years of football officiating (I miss the field, but not the preparation), and now the sale of an airplane I have cherished and will eternally miss. These passages do nothing to diminish me, but simply represent a point of diminishing returns. That which is left behind is better served in other hands.

We all like to think that our contributions to any group effort will be missed when we leave. Think back to the times when co-workers have departed. Did you experience separation anxiety? I doubt it. No, the corporate machinery continued to grind on. Someone once told me that retirement is like pulling your hand out of a bucket of water: once your hand is out, there is no proof that it was ever there. Maybe that’s how it should be. Be assured, however, that such an experience awaits us all and it is up to each of us as to how we handle it. Do we resist and tarnish the entire exercise or smile warmly as we bid adieu? Passages are bittersweet, to be sure, but pave the way for other chapters in our lives.

It is a near certainty that, as you close a chapter, you will be asked, “What now?” Human nature being what it is, we seem to always need a goal, don’t we? For the time being, however, no new airplane is on my immediate horizon. My plate is currently full with other pursuits, but the time will come when I find a new “girl” who will turn my head with her lines and attributes. And a new chapter will begin. Such is the story of our lives.

Who's Next?

“Take two aspirin, go to bed, and call me in the morning.” Isn’t that the age-old advice given to folks by their friendly M.D.? Well, it once was, anyway. There’s a problem with its applicability in today’s world, though: a significant segment of our society has no doctor to call (due to no healthcare) nor a bed to crawl into (due to homelessness). There are many causes for these problems and we’ll explore a few, with your indulgence, in the following paragraphs.

Healthcare issues are generally addressed through one’s employer. It should come as no surprise that the current economic malaise has created a whole new group of unemployed worker bees as the unemployment rate flirts with 10%. It’s a safe bet that a good number of those folks had some sort of medical coverage, but are now without. Cobra and the like? Pretty expensive solutions, considering you’re out of work. And what about your pre-existing condition(s)? They’ll no longer be covered in any new plan you may find yourself affiliated with.

So now you’re out of work with no healthcare. The economy continues to swoon and, should you be fortunate enough to “own” your home, you find yourself upside-down, financially. Foreclosure is a definite possibility. And you renters are not much better off because your cash flow is substantially curtailed, too, and the prospect of homelessness becomes all too real.

OK, so now you’re out of work with no place to call home and no way to handle health issues that may now spring up due to less-than-desirable living conditions. A job (even if one can be found) becomes more difficult to land because many positions require an address on the application and you no longer can provide one. You have little or no money to prepare for an interview (clean clothes, well rested, showered and shaven) and find yourself in this ever tightening spiral that offers little or no hope of relief.

Now what? And therein lies the true challenge. We are now engaged in yet another debate on national healthcare. Should we find a way to provide such a benefit, companies of all kinds suddenly find it cheaper to bring on additional employees as benefit costs go down. Jobs create income that leads to the acquisition of suitable living quarters and pretty soon that spiral is unwinding a bit and the light at the end of the tunnel no longer resembles an oncoming train.

Simple, huh? Nope, no way, not on your life. Because now we become a socialist country with big government and that, my friends, must be avoided at all costs. Or so some would have you believe. Do I favor socialism or big government? No, nor do I believe the terms are interchangeable. And a bigger role of government in looking after the well being of its citizenry is warranted because, quite frankly, nothing else has worked. Will there be graft and waste and fraud? Of course. Name one organization or program that doesn’t suffer similarly at the hands of scalawags and connivers trying to get something for nothing. That is no reason to refrain from reaching out to the overriding majority who, but for the grace of something-or-other, go us. And will it be expensive? A relative term, because we’re all paying now in the form of higher insurance premiums (should we be fortunate enough to have coverage), higher consumer costs to cover those higher premiums for coverage supplied by employers, and the subsidization of “emergency room healthcare” provided to those who have no other choice than to wait until they are in dire straits and then proceed to the nearest ER. I’d like to think that, at the end of the day, we’d be spending a bit less, but have no doubt that we’d be getting a bigger bang for our buck.

Right about now, someone will rise with indignation and shout, “Let ‘em go out and take care of themselves like I’ve done all my life.” Let me tell you something, my friend: you are not so good or so smart or so omnipotent that you have succeeded on your own. You have had help and opportunity from countless sources and to disown their contribution is the height of elitism and snobbery regardless of what rung of the economic ladder you may occupy. No one...NO ONE...has made it on their own and to turn a blind eye on those that, for one reason or other, require some assistance from others enjoying a greater degree of success is a shameful act. We are the greatest country in the world and no man, woman, nor child should face a day without the availability of shelter and medical attention. That is not Republican, nor Democratic, nor socialist, nor liberal, nor conservative. It is humanitarian and we should all rush to crowd into that tent.

Charge It

Much hand-wringing is going on lately over the way credit card companies are currently abusing their clients with increased rates and service charges. I find this interesting, if not amusing, and offer the following thoughts on the subject:

The contract signed between the card issuer and the card holder is just that: a contract. And all contracts include various numbers, limitations, and fine print. That’s all well and good until we get to the “rates and fees are subject to change at any time” phrase which pretty much screws the card holder with no downside for the issuer. Tell me something: would you buy anything from anybody at any time that included this phrase? I sincerely doubt it. Buy a car on time (like most of us do) and then get a letter from the dealer saying their bottom line is suffering so your outstanding balance will be increased? Not on your life, but we’ve done that with the credit card companies and that has led us to our present predicament.

But the card issuers are swimming in red ink as more and more of their customers default on charges that can no longer be paid as jobs are lost and homes are foreclosed upon. So what can they do? They can call in their marker from the applications everyone signed and raise their rates and fees unilaterally. Maybe if they had been a little more conscientious in doling out their cards, they wouldn’t be in this mess, but with that caveat of unrestricted increases, where’s the risk?

The existing contract we all sign is crap, has been crap, and will continue to be crap until the above-mentioned phraseology is eliminated. The new, improved application would simply state the rate for purchases and a list of associated fees. And should the issuers want to change those rates, they can do so, but the new rate does not apply to old charges. Additionally, minimum payments and late fees remain unchanged because the charges were incurred under those understandings. This is called a Grandfather clause, of sorts, and has become all too rare in the marketplace.

When I became an officer in the Air Force, I was told that I had a substantial sum of money available to me through the GI Bill. I could use it for flight training, among other things, and there was no time limit for me to take advantage of this program. The GI Bill was a recruitment tool at the very least and provided a means to a furthering of education for members of the armed forces. At some point further down the road (circa early 1980’s), the rules were changed and now we had to use up our allotted funds before a certain point in time. Everybody fell under this new mandate: old farts to young pups barely out of boot camp. And it wasn’t right or fair. Absent a Grandfather clause, I lost a good bit of what was earlier promised to me.

So now the government is expecting credit card companies to act in a manner the government has been unwilling to adopt. Nothing new in the “do as I say, not as I do” expectation, but it still strikes me as the quintessential irony. While I applaud the long overdue recognition of a wildly unbalanced contractual item, I wonder if there is something you and I can do on our own to stymie those that offer plastic as a panacea.

How about tearing up your credit card? No, not a cold-turkey kind of thing, but a “taking-your-business elsewhere” statement that deprives a bad business partner of your future business. This is called supply and demand and, should our demand for a fairer agreement (that includes a Grandfather clause) become loud enough, one can bet that there will be a credit card company offering such a vehicle. In the meantime, keep in mind that we all signed this deal and should expect to abide by it. Let’s just vow to avoid making the same mistake in the future, OK?

Read All About It...or not

Breaking with institutions of the past is not an easy task, but I’ve recently bid a semi-farewell to a veritable icon in my life: my daily newspaper. A semi-farewell because I couldn’t go cold turkey and am still receiving my Friday through Sunday papers. More on that later...

For the past nine years, the Sacramento Bee has provided my daily dose of current events as it represented the nearest major community. The Bee has been in print since 1857 and is the flagship paper of the McClatchey Company. Several years ago McClatchey bought Knight-Ridder which was the second largest chain of newspaper companies. In the ensuing three years, or so, McClatchey has divested more than a few of the Knight-Ridder publications while seeing it’s stock price plummet. The economy has gone south, too, resulting in lower advertising revenues for the Bee and they have reacted by slashing staff and the size of their product. It goes without saying that their subscription rates have remained constant.

I don’t mean to pick on the Bee; many papers around the country are experiencing similar obstacles and dealing with them in similar fashion. I’m reminded of the Air Force Officers’ Club quandary of the 80’s: It seemed the O clubs were, by and large, losing money to off-base competitors. Their solution to this problem revolved around the reduction of services combined with an increase in menu prices and dues. You needn’t have an MBA to figure out this plan only accelerated the exodus of once-loyal patrons. Today, most Air Force bases have all-ranks clubs in lieu of the past NCO and Officer club mainstays.

I fear the newspaper industry is responding to their financial crisis in the same way which will, accordingly, only serve to accelerate the move to other, more timely, sources of information. Are there other choices to escape this dilemma? I’d think so, but they’re not so quick and easy as firings and smaller editions. National news could well be covered by centralized news bureaus and papers could cover local news utilizing a smaller staff concerned with this smaller scope of coverage. Yesterday’s stock prices could disappear altogether since more up-to-date data is available for investors. And the obituaries need to pass on along with those within that section. I find it hard to believe that anyone hears of a recent passing from the obit pages, what with speedier forms of communication commonplace.

It is vitally important to keep the local newspaper available and pertinent. But to simply remove content will not win the day. Bold, outside-the-box thinking will be needed to ensure a vigilant eye is kept on those that would otherwise be inclined to abuse their power. Local reporting has historically kept the proverbial finger on the pulse of goings-on that escape the radar of national news organizations and it is ever so important to maintain that level of attention. So why did I cancel my paper?

Well, it occurred to me that the time required to digest the morning paper was less than the time required to eat my breakfast. Many of the articles were re-hashes of stories I had already learned of through other avenues. And local, Sacramento stories had minimal impact on me due to my remote location. The bang for my buck was noticeably smaller and I got to the point where the minuses outnumbered the plusses. Additionally, I only enjoy about three comic strips anymore and I can find them online. But the New York Times Crosswords of Friday - Sunday are my favorites and I’m not ready to abandon them. Hence, my decision to keep the weekend paper in my regimen. Time will tell as to which direction I’ll go from here: either a return to the daily paper or a complete cancellation. I wish to remain a connected, informed, thinking citizen and should the paper’s absence cause me to feel ostrich-like, I’ll re-up in a heartbeat.

I can tell you one thing, though: the lack of the morning paper has changed the morning routine. My wife and I have historically shared a silent nosh while reviewing the daily stories. Now we take our food of choice outside to our deck, enjoy a chat, and admire Mother Nature. Time better spent? Perhaps so. I’ll let you know when I know.

Violent Times

The occurrence of multiple homicides at the hand of a lone gunman seem to be getting more and more frequent. ABC news, in Friday’s World News telecast, stated that 53 mass shootings had occurred within the past month. Something’s amiss, folks, and it’s high time to get our arms around it.

The authorities would have us believe that each and every shooter is a whack job that has gone off the deep end. I think we can all agree that the deep end has, in fact, been left behind, but I have a problem with the whackiness factor. Those that would have us believe that everything is normal, except for our gunman du jour, are serving nothing more than their own best interests. To declare a deeper, more troubling message implying that there are societal forces at work might lead the general population to question the status quo and we simply cannot afford to risk that, can we? (“We” being those same powers-that-be that have risen to their positions of authority through that same status quo.)

Look back over the last few days, or weeks, and think of how many meaningful conversations you’ve had with anyone at all. By “meaningful”, I mean something other than, “How ya doin?” and by “conversation”, I mean exactly that: verbal communication (preferably in person, but I’ll accept a phone call). Not many, I’d say, because we simply do not take the time required for such activity or turn away from the chance based on fears of reprisal. Many of us work in cubicles while others telecommute. Others drive to work alone and get home at an hour that prevents them from jawing with the neighbor over the back fence. But still, there are opportunities, aren’t there? The company lunch room, public transit, waiting for the light to change at the street corner. Not much talking going on there anymore, is there? No, because we’ve all become afraid of the very same whack job that went to work last week and shot up the office. Throw in the potential for political incorrectness and you’ve got the perfect recipe for silence. It’s safer you know. That way no one gets pissed off. So we’re now left alone with our thoughts and have little chance of validating our hopes and fears by comparing notes with our neighbors, be they co-workers, the guy next door, or another passenger on the bus. And without that validation, we lose the strength of our convictions.

Historically, the “system” has saved us from desperation. The ability to address inequities in the workplace, legal recourse, and social programs have prevented many from proceeding to that point of no return where suicide is one’s last and seemingly best option. But the system is broken. Corporate immorality removes the hope of timely resolution among employees. The courts are backlogged to the point where potential success is outweighed by the time and money required to achieve it. And other forms of social safety nets are badly frayed in terms of budgets and manpower.

So we end up with someone who has lost conviction and self assurance through isolation and a system that fails to address valid concerns. The perfect storm of desperation. No faith, no hope, and no chance of justice. Ludicrous becomes logic; sanity seems silly. And this level of desperation has often led to suicide. That’s nothing new, but now the name of the game is to take someone with you on your way out. What’s up with that?

Take one person who has lost all faith in the system, themselves, and any people once-dear to the heart. There is no reason to try any longer because the only outcome will be failure, so let’s just end it all. Add to that the 21st century motto of “it must be someone else’s fault” and, bingo, you’ve got a recipe for mass murder. “My life sucks. My boss just fired me. My wife just left me. It ain’t my fault so it must be their fault and if I’m going down, they’re going down, too.” Not a pretty picture, is it? Well, I didn’t try to paint one, either.

So how do we climb out of this box? Well, for one thing, we make the attempt to enter into meaningful dialogue with any one at any time. We worry less about offending and care more about sharing thoughts and ideas. And we get involved in keeping an eye on whatever powers-that-be suit our fancy (god knows there’re enough to go around). We regain that conviction that kept one sane foot on the floor in trying times and hold other feet to the fire for failing to maintain the various and sundry support systems we all need at some point in our lives.

And, if we can do that to some degree, we might just lose that sense of isolation, take on a bit of accountability, and turn the corner towards a more involved and self-assured society. Will there still be public massacres? Probably, but I’d say the inclination to resort to such extreme measures would diminish as higher levels of faith, hope, and confidence were attained.

This Little Piggy...

As I write this, the Congress is putting the final touches on President Obama’s budget proposal. It is, for the time being anyway, the Mother of all budgets in the size of its request adding up to $3,500,000,000,000 (three and a half trillion dollars), more or less. But the greatest angst seems to be over the earmarks inevitably attached. “Earmarks” and “pork” have become the rallying cry for those interested in overhauling our budgetary process and that puzzles me on several fronts. (Believe it or not, I actually did some research on this and suggest you look at www.law.harvard.edu/faculty/hjackson/Earmarks_16.pdf to fill in any blanks.)

First of all, “pork” is nothing new to politics in this country. Long before Senator William Proxmire, (D, Wisconsin) started handing out his Golden Fleece awards it was common practice for representatives to “bring home the bacon” for their constituents to enjoy and hence forth result in re-election. Perhaps that is where the word “pork” originated. I don’t know for sure (and don’t really care).

Earmarks can be considered advanced pork procurement in that they can be added to the budget anonymously and absent any debate. And they can be directed to a specific use, too, and avoid competitive bidding. Perhaps this is where the taxpayer ire springs from, but, once again, the practice is nothing more than a perfection of the pork policies of the past.

OK, so here we are, madder than hell and not willing to take it anymore. Except, of course, for the projects headed to our own backyards. Those projects are needed. Those projects are beneficial, unlike projects in other areas that are boondoggles. Yeah, right. There is no reason why someone in Maine should give one hoot about how someone in Oregon spends their money (and vice versa). A vision of a gored ox springs to mind, for some reason.

Face it, folks: pork, earmarks, and the like are an inherent part of our political process and the wail for their removal serves no useful purpose. That doesn’t mean, though, that the process cannot be refined so as to prevent the “picking fly poop out of pepper” exercise in which we are currently immersed.

The earmarks in the current proposed budget account for about 2% of the total request. Historically, this is about the average included in each budget. So how about this: we take the annual budget, absent any earmarks or pork of any kind, and add 2% to the bottom line for just those areas of expenditure. Now we take that 2% and divvy it up equally between each Congressional representative. After all, the House is made up of members according to population so this method would seem to satisfy each citizen equally.

Now it’s left up to the representative to dole out the funds accordingly. Neighboring districts could pool funds for the purposes of roads and other infrastructure projects that would extend beyond specific legislative boundaries. There are those in the House that abhor the idea of earmarks (or so they claim) and, for those, an option to pass should be included with such funds going either to their state’s general fund or back to federal coffers. The fact that a given district has funds available for local use should not preclude applicable bidding processes from taking place. If nothing else, this provides some transparency to the affair and motivates our politicos from doling out the dough in a less-than-legitimate manner. “Senators?”, you ask. Since senators serve in a less-than-local capacity, I see no reason why they would need earmarks or pork of any kind. They’ve taken advantage of them in the past, but just think how happy John McCain would be if the temptation was removed altogether.

We are now left with a process that removes anonymous finagling and creates a degree of accountability in the distribution of these funds. Will they be spent wisely and for the benefit of the majority? That decision will be left up to the voters when they decide whether to send their representatives back to D.C. or not. And best of all, we can now turn our attention to the other 98% of the budget: where it should have been from the get go.

Expl***ve De**ted!

Well, I had this week’s topic all lined up and ready to go (in my head, at least) and in comes an email from left field that requires immediate attention. It seems that a reader took exception to my use of the “F-bomb” (her term, not mine) in my latest column. The dreaded f-word and its associated nefarious reputation had reared its ugly head yet again. You see, there was much internal debate over the usage of expletives in my book. Granted, there were only a few terms that one might consider offensive, but nevertheless the debate raged. (I won that debate because, after all, the words are mine and I am to be held exclusively accountable for anything with my name upon it.)

The aforementioned expletives have appeared rarely in my columns to date because the topics have been reasonably serious and, as such, I attempted to maintain a serious tone while illuminating the angle as it appeared to me. But last week, in defining “wreckreation”, I used that damned f-word. So let’s spend the rest of today’s time together in exploring style and substance.

Many of us swear while others do not. Some try to limit their cursing with varying degrees of success. Most of us hear words that we may not use in our daily vernacular and find ways of abiding those instances. Literature also provides the opportunity to read words never thought of being uttered, yet we read on. My point is that, while we may try to maintain a level of decorum in our own speaking habits, we seem less averse to hearing or reading the same words.

But don’t try to tell me that there is a living, breathing adult that doesn’t “think” many of these same words when the proverbial shit hits the proverbial fan. (Oh, god: the s-word!) And to prove my point, I will provide five conversations with the expletives suitably deleted:

1. The two hooligans sauntered onto the crosstown bus and slouched into the
   “Seniors Only” seats across from an elderly couple. “Take a look at those old f**ks”, said one to his friend. “They’re older than my grandparents and my grandparents are the oldest f**ks I know!”
2. He sat next to the attractive lady on a park bench. It was his lunch hour (and hers). “You look like you could use a good f**k”, he said. She smiled and replied, “As a matter of fact, a good f**k is exactly what I need right now. Can you help me out?” “As a matter of fact, I can”, he said as he reached into his pants pocket.
3. “Perhaps we could take a stroll outside and you could sit on my d**k. I’ve been told             it’s the longest d**k in the neighborhood.” “Oooh”, she purred. “Nothing beats a nice,    long d**k.”
4. “Let’s cut to the chase”, she said. “Word is that you’ve got the biggest d**k anyone has ever seen. True?” “Well, yes it is”, he replied, “but we’ll have to go outside for you to see it.” “My god! That is the biggest d**k I’ve ever seen! How in the hell did you end up with a d**k that big?”
5. “You are such a s**t!”, she cried as her brother pushed her into the mud. “I’ve never seen such a pile of s**t in my entire life and pray that you will eat s**t for the rest of your days!”

So, dear reader, are you properly aghast at such language in a supposedly intellectual discussion? I know, it is shocking that I could conjure up such filth. Bear with me one more moment, though, and allow me to add one more sentence to each of the above passages: 

1. “Yeah, but one day we’ll be old folks, too.”
2. “You would think that the deli would have provided you a fork when you bought your salad.”
3. “Yes, a long dock takes you farther out into the bay and provides a much better view.”
4. “Well, he flew into my yard one day and I’ve been feeding him ever since. He is one, big, happy duck.”
5. “Fine with me, sis; I love snot!”

Confused? “Folks”, “fork”, “dock”, “duck”, and “snot” are not expletives, are they? No, but I’d bet a dime to a doughnut that you read other words into those asterisked blanks regardless of whether such words ever escaped your lips. So, should I substitute asterisks for letters, my meaning may be widely misconstrued. The same applies to “friggin”, “freakin”, “screwin”, or “fookin”. Regardless of what I write, the reader generally sees the word I’m dancing around.

The words I write represent my best attempt at what might be called an artistic endeavor. As such, my mind directs my fingertips and the few expletives that appear on the page are not “added” for effect. They are there to complete the point I am trying to make and, much like spices in a recipe, combine in an attempt to render an end product both pleasing and thought-provoking. An expletive may cause a bump in your literary highway, but perhaps I am seeking such a bump to cause you to react and reflect on a specific passage. It is time to rate substance over style and take the time to delve into the message with less regard for the wrapping. While I attempt to avoid bombarding your senses with gratuitous profanity, I ask for your indulgence in hearing me out before discarding my thoughts out of hand.

My emailing reader also suggested that the use of such words separates me from more established, mainstream columnists and, should I wish to be included in such company, I should refrain from such verbiage. Well, I only know one established, mainstream columnist who told me that, if it were not for his editor and the Victorian mentality of newspaper vocabularies, an occasional expletive would, indeed, be found in his pieces. So, with a nod to Norman Mailer, gimme a friggin’ break!