Take Your Pick

Let’s try something different this week: rather than dwell on one subject, how about touching on a few salient topics from the headlines? In perusing today’s (October 3) Sacramento Bee, several things caught my eye:

Chicago loses Olympic bid: I’m surprised that Chicagoans weren’t the ones celebrating in the streets while those “lucky” Brazilians were wishing they were more careful in their wishes. Now, I’m a sports fan, but when I hear the Olympics is coming to town, I make plans to be somewhere else. Just like most everyone else. Promises of profit and opportunity abound and, depending on how you define “profit” and “opportunity”, the promises may be valid to varying degrees. Google “(un)profitable olympic games”. The top of the list will take you to an article from tourism review.com and I think you’ll be interested in the findings. (I’d link it for you, but it opens as a downloaded PDF. Sorry.) One would think that Chicago could put the same money to work in different ways to revitalize the economic maelstrom that now racks its citizens.

And Obama is getting heat from the conservative media types for going to Denmark when there are so many more important things to decide and discuss. (Of course, the conservative media would rather talk and discuss Obama’s trip to Denmark.) Who knows: maybe it was all show and, in the cloak room, he begged the IOC to give the games to those lucky bastards down south! I guess we’ll never know...

David Letterman: OK, here’s a guy who works with women and, over time, has found himself in a personal liaison with some. Who hasn’t? Hell, we’re all working about fifteen hours a day: if you can’t get lucky at work, you’re in deep trouble. True, Dave was in a long-term relationship with his future wife, but that’s between the two of them. The harassment angle is overplayed because no one has cried “Foul” and if someone comes forward now it is only because visions of fame and wealth are dancing in her head. We’ve all shared private time with co-workers (some above us on the career ladder and some below) with little or no fallout. Let’s move on and leave Dave alone.

Roman Polanski: Jesus, is this still going on? Let’s see, he rapes a 13 year old girl, leaves the country, promises to pay her a large sum in a civil suit (which he apparently never does), and now gets arrested to face the original charges. (Am I close?) Well, hell yes, he’s guilty. And of more than one thing and he should face the music regardless of elapsed time or his wonderful career as a film-maker. This has to do with taking advantage of a teenager and refusing to be held accountable. Enough said...

Paul Krugman: Paul writes for the New York Times and the Bee carries his column a couple of days a week. He won a Nobel Prize for economics last year and I find his point of view interesting, if not intriguing. His piece today is titled, “As difficult as it is to sell, spending is what U.S. must do” and it delves into how the government is doing too little to get the economy turned around. Yes, too little. Damn the deficit, full spending ahead! And you know what? I believe him. Picture a normal day in your nice, lovely home when, all of a sudden, a ray of sunshine (or drop of rain) intrudes from a space where intrusion is normally not allowed. That’s right, buddy: time for a new roof. But how can you afford it in these tough economic times? A blue tarp is cheaper and almost as good, isn’t it? Well, we all know the blue tarp ploy will only delay the inevitable and, in the meantime, more and more of your home is subjected to nature’s forces. At the end of the day, you’ve saved nothing and, more than likely, will end up spending much more than you would have in the first place.

Why would our national house be any different? Our financial roof is a mess and we’re trying to jury-rig a solution that will only come back to bite us on our collective backside. We do it all the time with our possessions when money is tight and what happens? We’re generally the worse off for it somewhere down the road. So I’m with Paul on this one. There’s no difference between your roof and our economy: they are both worthy of investment for long term security.

Not bad for one day’s news, huh? Maybe there’s still hope for the newspaper industry, after all.

Reverse Reaganomics

Ronald Reagan’s approach to governing still resonates with many who like the idea of smaller government, lower taxes, and “trickle down” economics. For those of you too young to remember, trickle down refers to the scenario where individuals and companies make a boatload of money and, in spending it, create opportunities and riches for those farther down the economic food chain. “Trickle” is the key word because a majority of the dollars seemed to stay in the pockets of those occupying the higher rungs of life’s ladder. Nevertheless, it still has support.

Unfortunately, the converse is also true: as money becomes scarcer at the top, less (or little at all) flows down to the lower reaches. We all know what does regularly flow downhill, though, don’t we and we’re getting more than a small taste of it as it “trickles” past. Within the upper echelons of the political and corporate worlds, much stays the same, but the trickling down of benefits has slowed to a barely perceptible degree. I’m not a physicist or an economist, but I’m surprised that such an outrage exists at such an understandable, and foreseeable, situation.

The slowing of the money train initially became obvious to me as Hurricane Katrina slammed into the city of New Orleans. The media reported that no agency seemed to be well prepared to deal with the aftermath. Perhaps “they” were very well prepared to allow other agencies to step in and foot a bill that “they” could not pay. The city was more or less broke and I find the idea that they simply waited for the state of Louisiana to come to their rescue more than plausible. Unfortunately, the state was no better off, financially, so deferred to FEMA. And we all know how FEMA performed. A combination of limited resources and bureaucratic obstacles created a debacle that continues to this day.

The latest example seems to be the extreme flooding in Atlanta and the surrounding areas. Once again, media reports show city officials hoping the state of Georgia will come to their rescue and state officials are turning to Washington for federal dollars. And, once again, we all know that the federal coffers have little to provide.

As help from Washington is reduced, states are forced to deal with their own problems, but their financial problems are no less severe. As the states turn to counties and cities for help by reducing the flow of money to those smaller entities, the supervisors and mayors look for help and find there is nothing lower (except the general population, of course). Each of us enjoys daily conveniences provided by each of these political players, but as the money slows to that trickle, those conveniences begin to disappear. Library hours are curtailed. Public swimming pools, parks, and the like are closed. Public universities reduce their enrollment numbers due to reduced faculty. Things we once took for granted no longer are there for the asking.

The business world is not much different as executive pay remains high so as to “attract and retain the brightest and best”. The worker bees, however, continue to struggle making ends meet as the cost of living goes up while the reward from working remains the same.

Let’s break this down to the family level. We’ll assume you have kids and they receive an allowance. They enjoy other benefits that seem to automatically flow from the fact that they live under your roof. Now you lose your job. The same trickle down that created a boon for your family during the good times is now morphed into their bane. The allowances decrease or disappear. Cable, cell phone, and the other accoutrements of the good life become, instead, luxuries that may not survive the scrutiny of a revised budget reflecting less discretionary income.

Face it folks: everybody’s broke. It isn’t limited to your family. Yes, your taxes are down because your income is down and/or your house value is drastically lower. So your contribution to the local, state, and federal cash boxes is lower. Why would you expect to maintain the same level of service from them when your own family can no longer expect the same level of service from you? The only way to find that money, short term, at least, is to raise taxes and that idea meets with instant outcry.

Our elected leaders claim to pay for everything by reducing (or eliminating) fraud, waste, and abuse. Nice theory, but I see it as more smoke than substance. First of all, nothing is 100% efficient, so you can scratch off waste as it is a by-product of effort. Fraud and abuse usually go hand-in-hand and so long as people are involved with any process, there will be those that take advantage.

It strikes me funny that, while many rant and rave about keeping government out of their medical affairs as we try to reform healthcare, some of the same folks rant and rave as services are reduced from the same government they claim to loathe. Which way is it? (No, you cannot have it both ways.)

Our economic way of life is changing in significant and perhaps irreversible ways and our consumer driven economy may well be a thing of the past. What will replace it? That’s anyone’s guess, but make no mistake: trickle down economics, just like most everything else, isn’t always a good thing.

BFF

There is no way anyone would confuse me with a cutting edge texter, but some of the more common abbreviations have made it down to my level. So BFF, or Best Friend Forever, is not completely foreign to me. What is foreign, however, is how the idea of best friends forever has permeated the world of commerce and how it has affected our buying decisions.

God only knows how hard it is to maintain any friendship “forever”, but those we do business with like to play on this BFF angle to instill a feeling of loyalty in our minds. Banks may well be the most proficient at this in light of their constant reminders of being in the neighborhood and always there when you need them. Airlines try for the BFF aura by awarding frequent flier miles and rewarding certain levels of participation with higher levels of attention. Kinda makes you feel warm and fuzzy, doesn’t it? But friendship is a two-way street and a closer look at the relationships claiming BFF status in the business world are anything but two-way.

I have a friend, Dave, who has maintained a long term relationship with the bank in his small, rural town. During this relationship, he has, from time to time, applied for an unsecured loan and has never been denied. And for good reason, since he has never failed in repaying the entire loan in a timely manner. Any business would consider him a good customer. Not any more, though. Dave’s most recent request for an unsecured loan (in an amount far shy of past requests) was denied. You see, the small town bank is now part of a larger group that passes judgment based only on numbers. No history, no relationship, no BFF. Sorry, Dave. Can’t help you. (He’s looking for a new bank, BTW.)

This tale got me thinking about our supposed long, close, mutually beneficial relationship we have with commercial enterprises whom we choose to frequent. The success of these BFF’s depends on one thing only: the continued flow of money from our pockets to their coffers. Once that stops, look out. No more BFF’s, my friends. Some companies dwell on their concern for your welfare while others “buy” your loyalty with perks that are dependent on your continued patronage.

Drug dealers aren’t much different, you know: they offer freebies until you’re hooked. Then the prices start going up. Prostitutes are famous for telling their clients what they want to hear and showering them with love and affection. For a price. Once the money train stops, so, too, does the affection. Am I likening corporate America to a bunch of drug dealers and hookers? I’ll leave that for you to decipher.

Try walking into your bank (assuming you are BFF’s) and asking to use their restroom. Or, perhaps, a cup of coffee. Something that a bank does not ordinarily supply, but something one friend would be glad to provide for another. Or walk up to the airline counter and ask for a meal voucher because you’ve had a bad day, the flights are late, and you’re hungry. After all, you’re a plutonium level flier and a BFF according to the literature they regularly send you. Simple experiments like these will readily separate the true BFF’s from the impostors.

It’s sad to say, but most of our commercial BFF’s out there are something far less loyal (or friendly). They hope that we’ll buy into their spiel, though, because, if we do, we’ll be CF’s (Customers Forever). Some businesses out there truly strive to meet our needs and expectations and will go the extra mile to maintain their business relationship with us. Others, unfortunately, are concerned only with creating the façade of loyalty and will turn their corporate backs should that prove to be in their best interest. It’s up to us to identify our true BFF’s out there in the marketplace and reward them with our repeat business. And for those that might think every business has a legitimate concern for the welfare of its customers: LOL!

Polarization

Some might think that I’m referring to the opposite of global warming. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m thinking of something far more lethal and much quicker: the disappearance of the middle i.e. movement towards either pole. The two types of polarization I’d like to dwell on today are economic and political.

Most of us, in describing ourselves, like to say we’re “middle class”, middle of the road”, “average”, or some such term that implies a position far from either extreme. However, should you take a look at the distribution of financial wealth, you’d be hard pressed to lay any claim to the middle of anything economical. Professor G. William Domhoff, a Sociologist at UC Santa Cruz, published an article in September 205 and updated it in May of this year (http://sociology.ucsc.edu/whorulesamerica/power/wealth.html). In the article, he compares financial wealth with net worth. The differences are subtle and complicated for a simpleton like me, but the bottom line is that financial wealth measures the control of income producing assets (stocks, bonds, business equity, etc.) and, as such, the “ownership” of America. And guess what? You ain’t in the middle, my friend: 42% of the financial wealth is controlled by the top 1% of households. And the next 27% of the financial wealth is controlled by the next 4% of households. So, 67% of this country’s financial wealth is controlled by the top 5% of households.

The middle class is melting away at an almost indiscernible rate, just like the ice caps and with equally serious side-effects. Those of us that still believe we’re in the middle of the financial world have used various forms of credit to maintain that façade and that has led to the economic malaise where we now find ourselves. How could this have happened and what can we do about it?

History shows us that the middle class originally thrived under the stewardship of labor unions. Until that time, the dependence on the generosity of management pretty much dictated the quality of life and the quantity of pay. And we all know that the generosity in question was in short supply as sweat shops and the like were the norm. The organization of labor, however, created a strong voice and coerced the industrial magnates into recognizing and rewarding the contributions of the worker bees.

Once this middle class was well established, the need for a union became lost on the younger, newer workers and, in the last several decades, union membership has dramatically declined. Once again, career rewards are predicated upon the generosity of higher-ups and, once again, labor has been left out when it comes to collecting those rewards.

There is no reason to believe that this state of affairs will turn around until the same effort is expended to create new labor organizations and reinforce existing ones. Only then, can we hope for a thriving middle class that fuels the consumerism that has historically provided the power of our economy. While that may take some degree of civil disobedience, it remains to be seen whether the workforce-at-large is up to the challenge.

The political middle is disappearing, too. Ideologues on the right are steadfastly against anything promoted by the present administration and the left, always seeking compromise and bipartisanship, is stalled with in-fighting and everlasting debate. (They say that Democrats fall in love while Republicans fall in line and such a sentiment is readily seen today.) Politicians seem to be more interested in personal agendas than what is good for America and, while this may be nothing new, it has reached previously unknown heights. Add to this mix a public that is more interested in sound bites and scandal and a news media more interested in ratings and it is not hard to see how we got to this point.

Last week, a new standard was set as the President was heckled in his address to a joint session of Congress. And as I write this, thousands are marching in Washington D.C. in opposition to the administration as much, if not more, as the current health care proposals. No middle ground, no serious debate, no progress.

It’s time that the Democrats take a page from the Republican play book and fall in line. The party made sweeping gains in the fall elections of 2008 and needs to start swaggering a bit. Hell, even our last president knew how to play that game with his “you’re either with us or against us” mantra. Bipartisanship? Nice theory, but it doesn’t seem to be working. I’d bet that the right would be more inclined to come along if they were faced with the prospect of being left behind. That possibility is remote, though, so long as the left continues its effort to woo, coddle, and cajole. Isn’t it time for a poke in the ribs or a kick in the ass?

And what about the silent, thinking types that haven’t taken to the streets? What with last fall’s network in support of candidate Obama, couldn’t we find some uninsured souls within staunch Republican districts to make their feelings known? They’re out there. You just don’t see ‘em on the “news” because they’re just not flashy enough, if they’re there at all.

The political solution to a vanishing middle may well be pure partisanship, should the votes make it possible. The threat of being left out of the game is a sure fire motivational tool guaranteed to bring about a more flexible point of view from would-be obstructionists.

The pendulums will always swing from one side to the other and, with time, it is thought that the extremes will lessen as everything shifts more to the middle. Well, I don’t think we can rely on that formula today and the irony lies in the fact that, as the middle slowly fades away, those still stuck “in the middle” suffer the most. In our own way, we must each try to slow down the momentum that is taking us away from that “happy medium”. Our economic and political well being demand it.

Shades of Gray

Jaycee Lee Dugard was kidnapped some 18-odd years ago. Her recent reunion with her family and the ensuing details of her captivity have re-ignited calls for “one strike and you’re out” for those convicted of sexual crimes of any type. This reaction is normal, can be expected, and is completely visceral. From the gut, in other words. Other groups rely on visceral reactions: lynch mobs, vigilantes, and similar self-appointed defenders of society. My question today is whether this is the type of society and justice we now seek to deal with these problems.

Every day, felons are released from prison on an unsuspecting public and many of them wind up as repeat offenders. And the more heinous the crime, the louder the hue and cry for throwing away the key. Stand in a room and spread your arms as wide as possible from left to right. Let’s call the left hand “angelic” and the right “satanic”. (I know, it should be the other way around, but I’m left handed, so give me a break.) Now, no one would argue that those resting on the right hand should rot in prison or, perhaps, be afforded a speedier exit from this world via a syringe. And those on the left hand are saints. Simple, huh?

Now, bring your hands together a bit, say to a 45 degree angle. The halos of the saints are now a bit tarnished while the true devils start to take on some redeeming qualities. OK, let’s bring our hands to within one foot of each other. The differences start to meld with the similarities and it is becoming increasingly difficult to separate the good from the bad. It becomes a matter of which criteria we use to make such a decision and it is far from the clear cut position from whence we started.

It’s time to introduce the cerebral component into our little experiment. The gut feeling wanes as our hands move closer together and the mind is now asked to render a more judicious verdict. Is this approach fool proof? Far from it. Will it prevent further dastardly deeds? Hopefully, but there is no way to predict success.

Welcome to today’s legal system. A closely woven fabric, but not so much so that unintended consequences cannot slip through the gaps. And when they do, depending on the level of their egregiousness, our collective gut once again roars for something more perfect, more black and white so we can sleep well knowing such aberrations will not recur.

Sorry, folks, but our lives revolve in a world of grays. Few saints or satans any more as we are continually asked to pick the lesser of two evils. So, while it’s easy to demand perfection, it is far more difficult to deliver in this imperfect world. Accordingly, the mind must overrule the gut in situations like this and realize that there’s only so much one can do and, when things like this happen, strive to minimize future failures of the same kind. Let’s call it maturity because that’s exactly what it is. Maturity is what reins in the visceral before it manifests itself into action while allowing the cerebral to take charge and keep things in perspective.

Should you be outraged at the failings within the system that allowed Phillip Garrido to escape notice for 18 years? Hell, yes! But to allow that outrage to take a supposed logical next step to locking every sexual offender up for life serves no real purpose save soothing the gut. Our attempt to win the war on drugs by locking up every two-bit, penny ante drug hustler or user has met with little or no success. There is no reason to believe a similar course with sexual predators (as a group) would fare any better. I know, it’s frustrating living in the world of gray. But most of us are a combination of good, bad, and ugly and all we can hope for is winning more than we lose.

Uniformity

Believe it or not and, like it or not, most of us wear a uniform of some sort every time we go to work. Hard to fathom? Well, the executive’s uniform consists of the suit and tie (or counterpart from the lady’s department). Hence, the appropriate moniker “suits”. And underlings all don, pin, or tie some accoutrement to themselves so as to be identified as employees.

But in this age of individualism, I find that the once readily identifiable uniform is slowly disappearing from the workplace. And I find this to be a shame. “Why?”, you ask. “What I wear has nothing to do with how I do my job, so what difference does it make?”

Well, for one thing, your uniform separates you from all the other schmucks in the place and tells me, at a glance, that you’re the one I need should I have a question or problem. I find myself asking people if they work there simply because they have no name-tag, vest, or other obvious indication of employ. C’mon, make it easy on us schmucks trying to spend some money in your store. Larger companies differentiate between employee groups through the wearing of different uniforms and this makes it easier for everyone while providing a sense of esprit de corps.

There are some positions where a uniform implies authority or job description while other uniforms are necessary for workplace cleanliness and the like. Others, still, pay homage to those that preceded and contributed to the gains currently enjoyed. Regardless, whatever uniform is mandated by your employer, it is a safe bet that you knew about it from the first day your were hired. And, on that first day, I’d bet you would have been happy to wear pink tights and spike heels if that helped sealed the deal. That was then, though, and this is now. You’re disgruntled, disheartened, disenchanted, and any other dis- you want to throw in. Don’t forget the under-’s, either: underpaid, under-appreciated, and so forth.

There’s a word for these explanations: crap! Pure, unadulterated crap. Face it: you just don’t care about the job or yourself as much as you once did. So why try any harder than you have to and, hey, the boss hasn’t said anything, so what’s the prob? The “prob” is many faceted. First of all, how about having the professionalism in wearing your prescribed “uniform”. That would be called self respect, too. Absent that, how about having a modicum of respect for your co-workers that wear their uniforms as they work at your side? I know, a tall order. Well, how about wearing your uniform because, if you don’t, your boss’ll rip you a new one. Oh yeah, not many bosses like that anymore, are there?

So here we are with few employees giving a rat’s ass and fewer supervisors willing to be unpopular in requiring something more than the very least. Can anyone be surprised if the workplace becomes something less than efficient, professional, or productive?

The airline pilot profession is no different in regards to uniforms. The old standard consisted of a suit coat with stripes, wings on the chest, and a hat. Today, some airlines have done away with the hat, altogether, and substituted the coats with leather jackets. Some airline pilots no longer wear ties, in accordance with their company regulations. In my particular case, pilots are afforded the option of coats or, in the summer, no coat at all. The hat and wings, though, are still considered required accessories. Some of my fellow employees seem to regard those two items as options, too, and the resulting scene is one of almost carnival-like proportions. A hodge-podge of supposedly professional aviators looking more like teen-age wannabe’s. Some claim that they are projecting a symbol of unhappiness with the decisions of management. Others say that when they are paid more, they’ll dress better. I wonder why they expect to be paid more when they don’t look like they deserve their current rates of pay. I’m not crazy about my management team, either, but I feel a responsibility to myself and my profession to look as good as I can when I come to work. Am I perfect? Hell, no, but in attempting to maintain a high standard, it seems that I come closer than many of my colleagues.

Since I entered the workforce some 41 years ago, I’ve worn some sort of item that could be called, in varying degrees, a uniform. I’ve not always enjoyed it nor have I always understood why I was asked to wear it. But I wore it because, if for no other reason, I was expected to. I always had the choice of quitting, as others do, but deemed the requirement a small demand in return for the compensation I received.

It’s about many things: professionalism, regulation, customer recognition, and respect. And it’s about time...

Intruder Alert

For those that fear the ever-increasing attempt to control their daily lives, I feel it is my duty to tell you that we have handed over much of that control to our supposed friends and neighbors under the guise of better living. And the vehicle of our reduced control? The Homeowners’ Association. Yes, my friends: that seemingly innocuous panel empowered to maintain our property values by enforcing the dreaded Codes, Covenants and Restrictions (CC&R’s) and, as a result, eliminating the ne’er-do-wells from our neighborhoods.

Over the past couple of decades, or so, these associations have become commonplace, much to the detriment of what used to be called a neighborhood. Historically, a neighborhood was comprised of various and sundry types and tastes that melded together to create a unique area where one could enjoy a cornucopia of scenery within a block or two from home.

Not any more, though. Exterior colors are mandated, lawns and accompanying shrubbery must be approved by the Landscape Committee, and structures (swing sets, patio covers, etc) need to go through the Architectural Committee before a spade of dirt can be turned. Yes, our neighborhood has taken on the sterility of an operating room in the name of “maintaining property values”.

What could be more elitist? There was a time when a neighbor creating a problem, whether audible or visual, could be approached and a solution could be crafted within the time it took to drink a beer. But now, neighbors don’t talk. Hell, they hardly know each other as the garage door opener is pressed to open and then immediately close as the resident rushes into the house. Quick! Someone, god forbid, might want to chat.

Worse than the framework that has created this monstrosity is the cast of characters willing to carry out the mandates. In other words, those that serve on the Board of Directors for the homeowners. These are normal, mild-mannered folks who turn into brown shirted, quasi-nazis when it comes to patrolling their streets in search of scofflaws. I can only imagine a hapless soul, lacking any authority in the workplace, who can finally be someone. Picture Barney Fife, if you will.

And I know of what I speak: my last venue in the civilized world was Orange County, California. I lived in a subdivision of some 80 town-homes and, yes, we had a homeowners’ association. In my time, the Board was led by Barbara. Her husband, Nick, was also on the Board and they formed a formidable duo. What with only five members, their voting bloc generally held sway.

Our community had two entrances. Nick and Barbara lived just a few homes inside the one entrance, but Nick would customarily come in through the farther one so as to drive through the neighborhood for a look-see. Lawns? Check. Front doors? Check. Parking? Check. Why wait for someone to call and report a problem. Nip it in the bud! Nip it, nip it, nip it! I can almost hear Barney...

To sacrifice artistic expression for a bland, uniform façade that offers little to the casual observer is, indeed, allowing others to weave the very fabric of the community in which we reside. Where’s the property value in that? There is another way to go, you know: CC&R’s without the administration. In other words, law, but no Barney Fife. And, believe it or not, I live in just such a place.

My present abode lies within twelve parcels of approximately 40 acres each. The land gives everyone a buffer, visually and audibly, but does not necessarily guarantee a problem-free existence. We have CC&R’s, but no association to enforce them. So, if I’ve got a gripe with my neighbor, have a chat with him, and he tells me to pound sand I can walk into a court room and prevail under the guidelines of the CC&R’s. Neat, huh? No self-appointed deputies trying to make trouble out of nothing yet a recourse available to all.

It might be difficult to dismantle an existing Homeowners’ Association, but it sure seems to be worth the effort, doesn’t it? Especially for those seeking some more of that elusive “control”.