Memories of Watts Bar Resort

It’s snowing again. I am not a fan of snow. It hinders one’s mobility in a car or on foot, and then there’s the cold. It makes these old joints ache and, well, it’s just too freaking cold. So what did I start doing? I’m remembering summer days from my youth. Specifically, vacations at Pete Smith’s Watts Bar Resort, in eastern Tennessee.

Thomas Wolfe wrote the novel You Can’t Go Home Again, and perhaps there are many things in this world that are best left to our memories, and not updated with current realities. My family’s favorite vacation spot from the 1960’s and early-‘70’s is probably one of those things. Several years ago I was on my way back from visiting my daughter and her new family in Cleveland, Tennessee. I was heading north on Interstate-75, and had seen the sign on my way down pointing to Watts Bar Dam, a few miles to the west on Highway 68. It was a beautiful, clear, sunny day, and I had plenty of time. I decided to make a small detour, exited the freeway, and headed west.

Watts Bar Dam is one of a series of hydroelectric dams built on the Tennessee River by the Tennessee Valley Authority, or TVA, during the ‘30’s and ‘40’s as a means of flood control and to provide electric power to an underdeveloped portion of the country. It also provided much needed construction jobs during the Great Depression. A small village of cabins were built for use by the workers, and were unused in 1950, when an entrepreneur named Pete Smith entered into a long-term lease with the TVA, and renovated the cabins for use as Pete Smith’s Watts Bar Dam Resort.

Pete and his wife Sally operated the place from April through October each year, then spent the off season traveling around the world. Must have been a pretty nice life. The Game Room in the Gift Shop/Restaurant building featured mounted skulls with horns from Antelopes and Thomson’s Gazelles that Pete (or someone) had shot on safari in Africa, with little brass plaques to identify the origins. My brothers and I found them fascinating. The gift shop was full of unusual little keepsakes from around the world. I’m sure there are a few items purchased there that are still around the house someplace.

From a modern entertainment perspective, the place was pretty boring when you think about it. Originally, they offered horseback riding, and Rick, Gary and I took several rides through the woods in the hot June air, swatting mosquitoes and horseflies. Once or twice was all it took before the luster wore off of that activity. In the later years, the stables closed, a victim of apathy and rising liability insurance.  The lake was a much better choice for recreation. Dad would rent a little aluminum fishing boat with a small outboard motor for the week, and we boys would use it for fishing or just cruising around (without parental supervision). For kids too young for a driver’s license, anything with a motor is cool. The entire family also usually rented a pontoon boat for a day, and took a picnic lunch prepared by the restaurant, cruising all over Watts Bar Lake, and occasionally stopping to fish or just lie in the sun.

Much of our time was spent by the pool, which was located beside the restaurant. You could get lunch, a sundae, or lemonade served by waitresses poolside in the afternoons. It was thrill for us kids to be able to sign for our own food, just like an adult. I remember a cute little lifeguard that worked there one year. Rick was running beside the pool, and she called out: “Don’t run. Don’t run around the pool.” Her melodious voice with a thick southern accent extended the simple seven-word warning into a much longer and sweeter sounding request. We began running around the pool just to hear her voice. For weeks afterwards that summer, and even years later, we would mimic her to each other, warning: “Don’t ruuunnn around the ppoooll!” I can still hear her in my head.

Pete and his wife Sally kept the grounds immaculate. Sally and Pete’s sister looked after the flowers, which were everywhere, while Pete drove around in the mornings directing the large crew of migrant workers in their mowing and trimming, which was a non-stop chore. Fresh-cut flowers graced the dining room tables, and huge areas of plantings were visible from every window.  The workers were Mexican, and mostly the same crew came up every year and lived on-site beside the guests. The term “illegal alien” had not yet come into vogue, and we never thought much about the workers, but we always waved and smiled at them, and they did the same. Katy oversaw the kitchen. She had a prosthetic leg, and a sarcastic wit. She liked to tease me, since I was the youngest, but she made up for it when we would make a late evening run up to the snack bar for a tin roof sundae or a banana split. If Katy made it, I could count on extra whip cream.

The restaurant was one of the reasons that kept my family coming back year after year. There was a mural on the wall leading into the dining room that had a map showing the resort in relation to major population centers around the country. It also showed travel times, based on an average speed of 35 MPH. Even in the mid-'60's I couldn't imagine travelling at an average speed of 35. The food was always good, and the service was excellent. Breakfast included fresh squeezed orange juice, and typical fare like eggs, French toast, and old fashioned buckwheat cakes. Grits were available but they didn’t expect us Yankees to order them (Pete and Sally were both from Michigan originally, I think), although I seem to remember Gary taking a liking to grits at some point (Years later, I remember him ordering them on a drive we took to Florida).  Fresh biscuits were made twice daily, and the old ones were torn up and put in the bird feeders just outside the dining room windows. We would watch the procession of blue jays, cardinals and mockingbirds fly in and out, leaving each time with a big piece of biscuit clenched in their beaks. Lunch was big burgers, club sandwiches or chef salads, usually eaten poolside. Alternatively you could get a box lunch to take out on the boat with you. The menu changed nightly, rotating among various dishes of southern specialties. Each dinner included soup, and a salad chosen from a tray containing various Jell-O salads, fruit cups and cole slaw. The entrée and sides came next, and then a large tray of pies, cakes and cobblers was circulated at the end of each meal. Although we were never that big on eating desserts in restaurants as a family, that convention usually gave way to tempting choices, like my favorite coconut cream pie, every evening at Watts Bar.

The dam itself was an attraction. You could take guided tours that started in the art deco styled lobby and then led down via elevator to the generator area of the dam. Facts and figures were reeled off while wide-eyed boys like my brothers and I stared at the huge dynamos. Another attraction for boys like us was the cars around the resort. Pete drove an older Mercedes sedan when we first started going there, or one of several Checker sedans that he kept on site. He liked the bulletproof reliability of the Checkers, which were once the standard taxicab in the U.S., but he really liked Mercedes-Benz autos. His wife drove a black 190SL roadster with red leather interior, with its convertible top usually down. Pete told us several stories of his wife’s 100-MPH speeding tickets once we got to know him.

In 1968 or 1969, Pete got a Mercedes 300SEL, with the 4.5 liter V-8, Mercedes’ top-of-the-line sedan at the time (other than their limos). He stopped to talk with us while we were walking back to our cabin from dinner, and he was heading up to check up on things after one of his frequent Scotch breaks back at his house at the end of the lane. He was much more talkative in the evenings, and you could almost read from the red glow coming off of his nose. He had picked the car up at the factory in Germany, then drove it around Europe with Sally, before ending the trip in Portugal, where he planned to have it shipped back to the States. He was watching a big Mercedes (he thought it was his) being loaded by crane onto the ship. Just then a horn sounded. A general dock strike had been called, and the crane operator simply abandoned his job, allowing the car to slip into the harbor with a huge splash. Pete was crazed as he raced to over to where the cars were stored, and was relieved to find his car was still on the ground, and in one piece. He loaded his wife and luggage back into the car, and headed for Spain and a safe return for both the big Mercedes and the Smiths.

Pete was usually dressed the same every day. He wore loose, loudly patterned Hawaiian shirts, cotton shorts, and the most unusual shoes. They were called “Happy Toes” and consisted of a flat rubber sole, squared at the back and round at toes, with canvas wrapping your foot. There was no tongue, and the shoe had thick laces that cut into the top of your foot if you wore them all day. We usually picked up a new pair every year in the gift shop. I’ve searched on-line, but can’t find them anywhere, as if they’ve vanished from human consciousness. They didn’t offer much arch support, but they were comfortable and carefree, much like Watt’s Bar Resort. I once saw Pete wearing long pants when he was coming back from a trip into town and couldn't figure what was wrong until someone mentioned that it was the first time they had seen him without his trademark shorts.

Over time, we became friends with the Smiths and their crew, learning their history, and sharing stories. They cried with us when we returned the summer after Rick died. When Gary drove down in his Mercedes roadster, a powder blue 280SL in 1971, I thought Pete would be more interested in it, but it was Sally who really checked out the car when he arrived a few days after Mom, Dad and I had already checked in. Maybe Pete was worried that Sally wanted to upgrade, but he was happy to provide a hose and water so that Gary could wash it as soon as he got there.          

We used the resort as a starting or stopping point from other trips, too. In 1967, Mom took my brothers and I sightseeing in Washington, DC, before meeting Dad at the Knoxville Airport for our trip to Watt’s Bar. The Arab-Israeli War had just broken out, and we were in a traffic jam on Pennsylvania Avenue, caught between protesting Arabs on one side of the street, and pro-Israeli demonstrators on the other side. Our Ford LTD had an after-market A/C unit that caused the car to overheat in traffic, and as Mom reached down to shut it off, she tail-ended a Corvair driven by a Capitol Guard on his way to work. He was a nice guy who took pity on my diminutive mother and her brood of three boys trapped in the middle of an international dispute. He was also glad to find out that we were well insured. One year we stopped to see Cumberland Falls, and another year, the entire family finally succumbed to the “See Rock City” ads painted on barns that grew more frequent the closer you got to the resort. Rock City was a tourist trap located atop Lookout Mountain outside of Chattanooga. Dad and I toured the Jack Daniels Distillery in central Tennessee once, when the rest of the family just wanted to go home.
   
Perhaps I should have left it at the memories, but I’m a curious sort sometimes, so I headed back toward our old favorite vacation spot after my visit with Andrea. The road toward the dam was vaguely familiar, although I think we only came in that way once or twice. The Interstate hadn’t been completed when we first starting going there, and we approached from the west, through the little town of Spring City. The first major change that I noticed were the cooling towers for the nuclear plant that had been added down river from the dam. That was new to me, and looking much like Three Mile Island’s cooling towers, they didn’t inspire a glad-to-be-here feeling. Crossing the bridge over the dam, I came to the entry to the facility, where our tours used to start. It was now enclosed with high chain-link fence topped with razor wire. Signs were posted telling one in no uncertain terms that visitors were not welcome. I suppose in this age of terrorism the last thing you want is a group of strangers roaming around the bowels of your hydroelectric dam, next to your nuclear power facility. I drove on, and was almost past the old Gift Shop/Restaurant when I realized that it was there. The landscaping, once a well-tended lush delight was now overgrown, with huge bushes nearly hiding the building. Turning down the lanes toward the cabins, it appeared that the pool was either filled-in, or at least abandoned. The place now catered to hard-core fishermen, who apparently prefer to stay on top of the water, in a boat. The cabins, once painted bright white, were now a sickly looking light brown. Moss grew on roofs. Bushes were too big, lawns were patchy and brown. I took a few pictures with my phone’s camera, turned around, and headed home.

Memories are sometimes best left undisturbed. Doing further research for this post, I learned that this entire section of the waterway had been polluted by a fly ash spill from a coal-fired power plant up river in 2008. The resort had closed, been abandoned, and eventually bulldozed. A sad ending to place that generated such happy experiences. The world was a better place with people like Pete and Sally Smith running a first class business that allowed families to find a way to unwind and enjoy spending time with each other. A world where youngsters could learn firsthand about amazing technologies that they were only vaguely aware of before is a better place than one that hides behind razor wire and keeps everyone away. Things are bound to change, and not always for the better. I am, however, happy to have had the experience. As Bob Hope always sang at the end of each performance: “Thanks for the memories.”

   

Christmas Memories and Stuff

As Christmas approached, my coworker shared her giddy delights in the bargains she had found in stores, how her gift list was nearing completion, and now she only needed a few big boxes to ship this or that. She runs one of America’s new “blended families” with her mate. Two teenage boys belong to him and one teenage boy came with her, but they’ve managed to put it all together and somehow make it work. As she bounced around the store bubbling with ecstatic energy, her enthusiasm was almost contagious. Then everything changed. Someone broke into her family’s apartment and stole a bunch of their possessions. Thieves made off with their X-Box and all of their video game cartridges, apparently as much of a loss to the husband as it was to the boys. They also took her jewelry. The day after it happened the local paper ran a story about a series of similar break-ins that currently plagues our area. In our hard economic times, jewelry and video games don’t even need to be “fenced,” that is, turned into cash by some shady middleman. One can get cash for used games at the video game store, no questions asked, and people selling gold for cash is an everyday occurrence, with a convenient choice of outlets nearby.

Everything changed for her in the blink of an eye. She became depressed, moping around the store, not doing her work, and managing to tell any customer who would listen of her travails. Along with their sympathy, a few of them actually gave her money. One of them brought in a jar for donations, with his contribution already in the bottom of the container. Her mood briefly elevated at this outpouring of generosity, until her cashier informed her that they could both lose their jobs for trying to solicit personal donations from their customers. I feel bad for her, but I have a broader perspective tempered by time and experience. She may have lost a bunch of “stuff,” but that’s all it was, just things. At least all of her kids came home from school safe that day. Many families in Connecticut weren’t as lucky, and I tend to focus all of my sympathy on such losses that can never be replaced.

When I was a kid growing up in the ‘60’s, we had a traditional American family. Dad operated his own prosperous small business and my mom helped out at the store while managing to care for three rambunctious boys. Christmas at our house was a time of overflowing abundance. I remember getting up long before sunrise and creeping out to the living room to witness a floor packed with so many brightly wrapped packages that there was scarcely room to walk. I recently found out that my dad’s friend, who managed a little toy store (in the days when small retail outlets could still thrive), used to let my parents come in after the store closed to buy our toys. It must have been near nirvana for my dad, who absolutely hates crowds. Christmas morning, we would sit on the floor and tear open package after package, tallying our take and piling our gifts in our own little mountains.

But all too soon the flow of boxes stopped and the rush subsided. Someone usually asked, in all innocence, “Is that all?” I’m surprised our parents never boxed us up and shipped us to the North Pole. My brother Gary would quickly take his stash back to his room where he had already cleared space in his closets and drawers for his planned acquisitions, his little idiosyncrasy that has become a memory still shared with amusement. Rick and I would tend to enjoy our newfound bounty in the living room, secretly peering beneath the tree in hopes of discovering some small forgotten box that may have been overlooked.

Christmas changed forever for my family in 1969. That October, my oldest brother Rick was killed in a car crash. As the holiday approached, mom got out the boxes of decorations, determined to provide some holiday joy for her diminished family. I’ll never forget her expression when she came into my room holding one of the red felt Christmas stockings that she had made years before for each of us. Our names were sewn on the front of each of them in white felt. The one she carried said “Rick.” I wanted to tell her that it would be all right, but I couldn’t lie. All I could do was to cry with her. Just as I still do now whenever I think about that day. Not every Christmas memory is good, but they are all important. We didn’t hang Rick’s stocking that year, or for years after. But we carried on as best we could.

As I got older, my joy of acquisition was replaced by the joy of giving. I used to relish finding the right gifts for my family and friends, especially after I had a good job making lots of money. I usually put off shopping until the last minute, but I power-shopped with a ferocious intensity, usually with success. One of my favorite memories of the time was rushing out to a department store right after work in my suit and tie, trench coat flapping in my own wake, to purchase one of the new shipment of Teddy Ruxpin animatronic teddy bears for my young niece. It was the “must-have” toy of the season, and I just had to get it for her. I remember getting dressed up and taking Andrea, Sherry and Erica out to dinner at Benders then to the Palace for a live performance of "The Nutcracker." I'll never forget the look of intense joy on Paul's face when we gave him and Jennifer a computer for Christmas. Watching the latest Disney video with Jenny on Christmas Eve morning became an all too short-lived tradition that still makes me smile when I remember. It was also around this time that I started my own little tradition of buying cool Christmas gifts for myself. I gave myself some really nice stuff. One year, I won $1500 in the state lottery right before Christmas. I took my winnings in cash, and spent them in less than an hour on expensive presents for mom and dad (oh yeah, and one for me, too).

Things changed as things always do. I had a family of my own, and then I didn’t. Lots of my stuff was lost during my divorce, including a great deal of things I had acquired prior to my marriage. But what I lost was just “stuff,” and I got on with my life. Believe me, I would much rather see my daughter and her boys at Christmas than get another new sweater (and I like sweaters). My income was drastically reduced, but I still tried to find the most appropriate gift that I could afford for each recipient. After my brother Gary passed-away in 2008, we made a decision in my family: no more gifts. The presents just didn’t seem to matter anymore, but we still gathered to share a delicious dinner and recall memories. One of our best holidays happened last year, when my nephew brought several bottles of his homemade wine, and we shared stories much longer into the night than in years past.

Now, when harried shoppers ask me, “Are you done with your Christmas shopping yet?” I smugly smile and assure them that yes I am done. I don’t have to do any shopping. It’s just stuff anyway, and most stuff doesn’t matter in the long run. Something always happens to it, or we grow bored with it. I know it is trite to say that the holidays are about family, not the presents, but we never seem to realize that until too late.

So my Christmas wish for you all is for health and happiness. Don’t worry about the things, because they really aren’t all that important. If you’ve experienced a loss of stuff, well that’s too bad. You’ll get over it. If you’ve experienced the loss of a loved one in your life, I offer my heartfelt condolences, with the knowledge that while your life may never be the same, you must remember to get on with it as best you can. Those who we have loved and lost would not want us to dwell on the sorrow, but instead remember the good times that we shared, even if they were all too brief.

This year, for the first time in many years, there are three red felt stockings hanging from my mother’s fireplace mantle. They are a little faded, having survived for over half a century, but they still look pretty good. They won’t be bulging with holiday goodies come Christmas morning. They are however already filled with that most important of holiday gifts: memories.

Wishing you all a very merry Christmas and a happy and prosperous New Year.

Saving Our Children

Yesterday, as news of yet another horrific tragedy involving a deranged gunman and a school full of innocent kids unfolded, my coworker John told me of the conversation he just had outside the store with a student heading home from our local high school. John said that it seems that each generation is more screwed up than the previous one, and his (John is in his mid-30s) is the worst one yet. Seems he was trying to place some blame for the shooting on the shoulders of his contemporaries. The student disagreed with him, stating that it was his own generation that was truly messed up. I didn’t comment at the time, but I didn’t really agree with either of them. Every generation since the dawn of time has bemoaned the fate of the younger generation, wondering: what went wrong with the kids?

“Why can’t they be like we were,

Perfect in every way?

What’s the matter with kids today?”

Lyrics from: “Kids”, Bye-Bye Birdie

Back in 1974, as I was finishing high school (yes, it was a long time ago), I took an English course about how to write a research paper. We could choose any current topic of interest, and since recreational drug use was one of the big issues of the time, I wrote about the methadone maintenance program. Methadone was used to treat heroin addiction, by substituting a drug that didn’t get you high for one that got you very high. Turns out the program wasn’t really that successful, since (surprise!) most heroin addicts really wanted to get high more than anything. I came across one author’s view that the real problem with the failure of treatment programs wasn’t that America had a “drug culture” (a small subset of our overall culture). The problem was that America itself, in its entirety, is a drug culture. We thought then and probably think so even more today, that we can cure anything with the right pill (or right drug of whatever form). Our large multi-national pharmaceutical companies have been advertising their glorious triumphs over diseases, both real and imagined, for years. Why would we think it wasn’t so?

“One pill makes you larger

And one pill makes you small

And the ones that mother gives you

Don't do anything at all”

Lyrics from: “White Rabbit”, Jefferson Airplane

The same situation exists with guns. America does not have a “gun culture”; America is a gun culture. We grew up with guns. But unlike our ancestors, who required weapons to put food on our table and protect them from their hostile environment, we have come to think of guns as the great equalizer. When bad people attack us or try to take what is ours, what else can be done but to fight back? And how can the weak triumph over the strong? Use a gun.

“God created man, Samuel Colt made them equal”

-Anonymous

Our media has been overwhelmed with gun use for generations. Dime novels of the Old West, movies, television, and video games have all featured the use of guns as a prominent deciding factor. I used to play point-of-view shooter video games when they first came out. In such games, you start out with a pistol, then work your way up through the levels, acquiring more powerful and more effective guns as you progress. If you run out of ammo, you revert to a knife. You rarely last long against the forces of evil with just a knife. I’ve played more advanced versions, on better systems, over the years. The level of carnage has increased, as have the graphical displays of blood and gore. At some point, I lost interest. I’m really a peace-loving guy at heart.

So now you’re thinking that I’m about to propose radical gun control as the solution to our problem, right? Well, here’s another little surprising bit of information: I am a gun owner. I used to hunt a little, but never really enjoyed tramping through the woods in inclement weather. Besides, being out there with all of those other people with guns is a bit worrisome. Once the beer companies came out with 30-packs of beer in camouflaged cartons, I was pretty sure it was time to stay clear. I also liked to target shoot when I was younger. My brothers and I would go out in the woods of my grandfather’s “farm” (it was a hobby farm; he wasn’t really a farmer) where there was an old garbage dump and shoot up cans and bottles with our .22 rifles and BB-guns. Astonishingly, there were no firearm-related injuries. I suppose we should thank the Boy Scouts and the YMCA for good training, but we were generally just careful.

I have a good friend who is also a careful gun owner (at least I think he still owns guns). When he was a youngster playing in the woods with friends and guns, his buddy thought it would be cool to scare him by shooting into the water of the creek that he was crossing, so he did. Guess he didn’t know that bullets can ricochet off of water, which one did, and gut-shot my friend. He was given the last rites in the hospital and had emergency surgery by a doctor called off of the golf course. His amazingly strong constitution pulled him through, although he is missing significant portions of his intestines. Years later, he was lifting weights in his apartment bedroom at Ohio State. One of the neighbor girls came over to show his roommate the cute little pistol that her father had purchased for her to use for protection. His roommate pointed the gun at the wall and, perhaps unaware that it was still loaded, fired a round that went straight through the wall. Luckily, my friend was bent over, putting his barbells on the floor. When he stood up, he looked directly through the tiny new hole in the wall. A second earlier or later and his head would have been in the way of the errant bullet. He lost his cool in the heat of the moment, instructing his dumbfounded roomie in the proper use of human fists as a weapon. You can be perfectly careful about the guns you own, but always remember that there are idiots everywhere.

Therein lies the problem with ownership of weapons for self-protection: they rarely do their job as intended. I know that there are dozens of stories where a homeowner has saved their own life by using a firearm against an attacker, but the cold, hard statistics tell us that we are much more likely to harm ourselves or a loved one with a gun in the home. The perpetrator of the latest school shootings (*) reportedly borrowed his mother’s guns to do the shooting. His mother was among the first victim of her own guns. Tougher laws about purchasing weapons would not have worked in this case, because the gunman stole the ones he used. (*Do you realize how many school shootings there have been since Columbine? Answer: According to ABC News, there have been 31 school shootings since the Columbine shooting in 1999).

Of course we’ve all heard that “guns don’t kill people, people kill people.” To be fair to guns, today’s paper had a story from China about a man attacking a school full of youngsters with a knife. He injured 22 before being subdued, according to Chinese news sources. The sources also reported that no one was fatally injured. So yes, guns are more deadly, especially in mass-killing events.

Personally, this kind of mass-killing just makes me sick. Would we be safer with strict controls on guns, especially assault-type weapons and handguns? Yes, we probably would. Are we likely to see any type of government action to control such weapons? Probably not. I would gladly surrender my guns if I knew that everyone else would do the same. I’ve been robbed at gunpoint twice in my life, and if I had been armed in either situation I likely wouldn’t have had a chance to pull a gun to defend myself. If I had, it would have probably cost my life. Given the proliferation of firearms in our culture, it is likely that a gun control law would not remove all guns from the market. We once had a law banning the sale of assault weapons and large capacity handguns, but it was repealed. I don’t know if it did any good, but it probably didn’t kill anyone either. In recent months, I have seen several full-page and multi-page ads in the local paper that feature a vast variety of deadly assault weapons. These are not weapons used by hunters. The sole purpose of this category of gun is the efficient killing of a large number of human beings. It is a sad commentary on our society that we continue to acquire such weapons. Perhaps we should recruit the owners to stand guard at the doors of schools. They really should do something positive with them, don’t you think? Although it might just traumatize the kids more than they are already experiencing by just showing up at school.

We probably should do something as a culture in order to protect our loved ones, especially our children. But what is the proper course of action? Someone posted a message that more violence has taken place since God was banned from school. They wanted to put Him back in the classroom. Too bad that the world has been fighting over who has the best idea of god for thousands of years, blowing themselves and others to bits in the process. However, I think an increase in education about moral issues and philosophy is probably a good idea. In fact, better education in general might help. Then again, maybe we should just succumb to the desires of the wealthiest among us, and ban public education all together. Instead we could re-institute child labor. The kids could be worked so hard (and for very small wages) that they would be too tired and too poor to buy guns and shoot each other.

There are lots of ideas out there about what to do, but most of them won’t work. Not until we reach a certain level of cultural enlightenment at least. What ideas do you have? Care to share them? The only thing that I know for certain is that if we do nothing, this will happen again.

Suspension of Reality

My local paper featured a provocative story on the front page this morning, prominently displayed above the fold. The article was headlined “Hoover teacher writes erotic novel.” The subheading was “Back in classroom after suspension.” Needless to say, as a graduate of North Canton’s Hoover High School, I was intrigued. I love books, and I like reading as well as writing, but I’m not a fan of censorship. I sped through the story, and then read it again.

Seems the teacher in question authored an erotic novel titled Schooled, under the pen name Deena Bright. Her students, thankfully possessing naturally curious minds, found out about it somehow. Then the parents found out and some of the more outraged ones brought the matter to the attention of the Board of Education. The paper states that the superintendent showed the teacher’s personnel file the newspaper reporter, showing evidence that he had conducted an investigation into allegations of school-related misconduct in November. The teacher in question was placed on paid administrative leave for three weeks during the investigation. As a result of the investigation, she was suspended for five days without pay.

Parents were apparently in an uproar, not specifically about the graphic sexual nature of the book, but because the protagonist is a school teacher who has relations with fellow teachers and former students. The teacher’s union president got involved, and put the beleaguered English teacher in contact with the union’s lawyers, but he speculated that she didn’t like the advice they gave her. Seems they wanted her to resign. He said he was surprised to see her back at school. Such is the typical reaction to this type of situation in North Canton. Make it go away and we’ll never speak of it again. Personally, I’m glad she is back in school.

In the acknowledgment section of her book, the author wrote the following note: “Dear My School District: I love my teaching job. I love raising my kids here, being a part of this close-knit and outstanding community. I am proud to be here, honored and humbled to be a part of this district. Please don’t fire me! I’ve never slept with a student, not even remotely close. I love my students: they’re my kids, nothing more. We teach our students to dream big, work hard, and it will all pay off in the end. This was my ‘dream big.’ I do work hard every day, inspiring the future of America, but they have in turn inspired me to reach my goals.”

This morning, before turning my attention to The Canton Repository, I finished reading David Baldacci’s latest thriller, The Forgotten. The story deals with the modern-day slave trade and includes several murders, not to mention sex between the protagonist, an Army NCO, and a senior officer in the U.S. Army (which I believe is a violation of conduct, if not illegal). Not once while reading this book did I think that Baldacci was engaged in the slave trade or was contemplating murder. I never thought that James Patterson, John Grisham or even Agatha Christie was more likely to be a potential murderer than anyone else in our society. Their only “crime” is to have an extraordinarily gifted imagination, a necessity when it comes to writing fiction. We should be willing to make the same leap of logic when it comes to the author of Schooled. It is not her blueprint for planned debauchery; it is the realization of her dream to become a published author.

The unpaid suspension that the would-be author received was not because of her book. She was suspended because she had used a school computer for “social networking of a personal nature.” If everyone in the United States were placed under suspension at the same time for accessing a social network at work, our economy would grind to a halt, because so many people would be at home. I’m willing to bet that it has happened before at Hoover High, and has happened since. It will no doubt happen again. The only real crime that I see anywhere in this situation was when the school superintendent showed the reporter the teacher’s personnel file. Isn’t that a violation of the teacher’s right to privacy?

Stay in school and fight for your rights, “Ms. Bright.” At least until you get a decent publishing contract. You have accomplished what your fellow teachers have been trying to do since the dawn of public education: you got a student to read a book.

“Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity.”

- Christopher Morley (1890 - 1957) 

Income, Expenses and Rationality

I promised myself that I wouldn’t write anything else about politics for my next post, but then today’s newspaper landed on the front porch. The headline proclaimed “Romney won’t pay city.” Turns out that when both candidates for the top of the Republican ticket, Mitt Romney and Congressman Ryan, visited our little city right before the election significant costs were incurred to provide for their safety. An invoice was prepared and sent out to the campaign for reimbursement. It was returned with the message that the U.S. Secret Service had requested these services. They should be billed for the cost. Of course the campaign already knew that USSS never reimburses cities for these expenses. They don’t have enough money in their budget to cover such things. Our little city has struggled economically because the Hoover Company had provided a large portion of city tax revenues. It was the city’s major employer and operated the factory in the center of town until they closed up and moved all of its jobs to Mexico and China. Now the city is stuck with this bill.

This situation points out a few major issues that should be discussed as our nation is herded by our elected officials like lemmings toward the “fiscal cliff.”  The first thing we need to deal with is campaign financing reform. Billions of dollars were spent for advertising here in Ohio and across the nation. Television ads played non-stop. Several flyers arrived in our mailbox from both candidates on a daily basis. If campaigns have enough money to fund these things, they should also be required to fund extra security measures deemed necessary for personal appearances. This goes for incumbents as well as challengers. These guys raise enough money to cover it, and if it means that one less ad won’t air on TV, well that’s really a good thing as far as I’m concerned.

Our mayor tried to put a positive spin on this mini-fiscal crisis. The guy was so happy that his party’s top dog was going to bless this little burg with a personal appearance that he couldn’t wait to show off our fair city’s resources. He answered the critics of his reckless spending by saying that the visit provided an economic boost to the city. People came to town and ate in our restaurants. They saw what a fine little city we had, and maybe stored that away for future development potential. I believe the proper term for this is “bullshit.”

I posted about this visit in detail (see “High School Football and Political Rallies” from 10/27/12) and witnessed the marvelous “economic boost” firsthand. The folks who came to town were mostly from wealthy little enclaves to the north, like Hudson and Medina, where the well off have been hiding from urban problems for decades. Do you think they were impressed by North Canton, and considered investment potential while here? Probably not. They rolled into town in their Cadillacs, Mercedes-Benzes, and Lexus cars or SUVs and parked wherever they could find a spot. Many chose to take a free parking space in the parking lot of the store where I work. We sold a few disposable rain ponchos and provided free restroom facilities to folks still clutching their huge Starbucks coffee containers (by the way, we don’t have a Starbucks in North Canton, so they didn’t buy it here) before strolling off to the rally down the street. Our regular customers couldn’t come in to shop. We experienced no financial boost. North Main Street was so choked by traffic that I would bet that none of the local merchants had a positive economic boost that evening. But it’s nice to pretend it happened, isn’t it Mr. Mayor? Nice spin control, which’s what politics are all about these days. Hope your party noticed, because you’ll be facing re-election soon and you might just need a new job. But perhaps he has no need to worry, because no group has demonstrated a penchant for clinging to unworkable policies or unqualified leaders more than the Republican party.

The second thing that this brings to mind is the reason that rich people (Mitt Romney is certainly worthy of this distinction) stay wealthy: they like to make money for themselves, and spend other people’s money whenever possible. Romney canceled his campaign workers’ credit cards on the night of the election. If workers were far away from home, they had to pay their own way back, because the campaign was no longer going to pay for anything. He might have kept the cards active if he had won, but he didn’t, so in the typical reaction of every “self-made” rich dude it was every man for himself.

Perhaps the reason that he lost his bid for President is that enough people have finally figured out that the nonsense that his party spews about the need to maintain low tax rates for rich people so that they can create jobs is bullshit. The Congressional Research Service reported this fact to Congress, but had to pull the report due to Republican bitching about wording in the report (see “Never Stop Learning” posted 11/2/12). This tax policy simply doesn’t work, yet remains a cornerstone of the party’s platform.

Warren Buffett, a well-respected billionaire and perennial member of Forbes Magazine’s list of the 400 wealthiest Americans (currently #2) appeared on a TV show the other night. He expressed his opinion that wealthy Americans should actually pay more taxes than they are now required to pay. His idea is that if you make over $1 million per year, you should pay a flat 30% tax on that amount over $1 million. If you are blessed enough to make more than $10 million per year, you should pay 35% in taxes, no matter what the source of your income (salary, dividends, capital gains, etc.). He pointed out that the aggregate income of the Forbes 400 twenty years ago was $300 billion which has now increased to more than five times that amount, or more than $1.5 trillion. For the most recent period, one forth of those people paid less than 15% in taxes, and six of them paid no taxes at all. During the same period, the productivity of the American worker has doubled, while their incomes have remained static. It’s pretty easy to see where all the money went, and it wasn’t to the struggling American middle class.

Yet the House Majority Leader announced that his party is completely unwilling to raise taxes on the wealthiest Americans in order to prevent the “fiscal cliff” at the start of next year. His reason is that we must protect the “job creators” by which he means our richest citizens. On his TV appearance the other night, Buffett asked the host what how he would respond if Buffett were to call the host and say he had a great idea to make money. Buffett was going to invest all of his money in the idea, certain that the reward would mean lots of return on the investment. He then asked the host if he would hesitate to join him based on the amount of taxes that he would have to pay. They chuckled about it, obvious that the answer would be no.  Buffett also pointed out that he had been selling stocks since he was twenty years old (he is now 82) and that over that time period he had witnessed significant increases in our nation’s Gross Domestic Product. This even included times when the marginal tax rate was in excess of 90%. So even when rich people got to keep only a dime out of every dollar they earned, they had been willing to invest in America.

Isn’t it time to refute this idiotic argument once and for all, and stand up for rationality and reality? Certainly we could stand a bit more fiscal responsibility in our government spending. We also need to face some hard realities when it comes to taxation. Chief among these is that those who can best afford to pay more taxes should do so. How about a compromise on who should pay more taxes? The suggested limit of an income of $250,000 per year may be outmoded. A quarter of a million per year isn’t what it used to be, and despite how attractive it may look to you or me, those at that level of income may actually feel a pinch. So let us compromise. Raise the top rate to those who make more than a million per year, and do as Mr. Buffett suggested. Tax all income at the higher rate. It really does make sense. The rich have been getting richer for years, while the middle class struggles. All we need is some rationality in the thought process.      

Warren Buffett

The End of Twinkies? Don't Count On It

There were a host of things that sparked my interest today: Unfaithful Generals (who could have saved themselves embarrassment by staying monogamous) and an outspoken Senator (who should have been somewhere else learning the information he claimed was denied to him). Greedy retailers who have twisted a national day of peaceful reflection and giving thanks into another day of hyperactive consumerism were also on my radar. All of these things caught my attention, and I’ll probably get back to them soon. But as I ate my bowl of fresh strawberries, blueberries, pineapple, and kiwi fruit this morning, the news reporter on TV shouted out that they were going to quit making Twinkies. Oh no!

Now everyone here knows what Twinkies are, but I have readers across the globe (not many, but some). If you are unfamiliar with the confection, it’s a cream filled sponge cake, full of fats and sugars, with enough preservatives to keep it on the shelves for months, and edible for years, if not decades. Not really healthy stuff to eat. In fact, health experts may be saying good riddance, but that’s probably premature. I’m betting we will see the return of Twinkies in the near future. As a nation, we just can’t let something so deliciously unhealthy disappear forever. They will probably be back in time for state fair season next summer, where they are a favorite of those insane carnival workers that like to deep-fry them. Yum!

The TV reporter blamed the demise of the company, makers of Wonder Bread and other goodies (that also really aren’t good for you) on "America’s healthier eating habits" and a “labor dispute”. What nonsense they try to feed us, along with their unhealthy foods. To place the blame on people eating healthier, combined with greedy workers, is like trying to blame the attack on Pearl Harbor on the Hawaiian Islands, for moving underneath the falling bombs at an inopportune moment.

Today’s corporate news-rag (our local paper), featured a little story concerning a report issued by the CDC (America’s well-respected Center for Disease Control and Prevention). It was a very small story, confined to a sidebar, and should have been given more depth and more importance. The report stated that diabetes rates are skyrocketing in the US. The biggest jump was in Oklahoma, with similar problems across the South, where the rate of diabetes since 1995 has more than tripled. But it’s not a regional problem. Here in Ohio, almost one in ten are now diabetic, a rate that has more than doubled during the past 15 years. The nation’s growing weight problem is behind the increase, according to Linda Geiss, the report’s lead author. So much for “America’s healthier eating habits”.

As for Twinkies’ “labor dispute”, I’ve been following this situation for years, with first hand information provided by some of those fine people who have now lost their jobs, health care benefits, and the pensions that they have worked a lifetime to obtain. The parent company had been taken over in a leveraged buy-out by a group of  “investors” and taken private. It’s an old story by now, repeated across the country to the detriment of our nation’s economy and for the benefit of a handful of greedy people who have learned to expertly game the system.

Shortly after the firm was acquired in a LBO, it declared bankruptcy. One of the first payments authorized by the bankruptcy judge was to provide millions of dollars in “retention bonuses” to the corporate officers in order to keep them from leaving the company. These were the guys that forced the company into bankruptcy just so they could rape it. Meanwhile, workers at the company were informed that they would need to take pay cuts and reduced benefits in order for the company to survive. Oh, the pension that they had counted on for their retirement was also cut in half. This happened when the old-timer who delivered Wonder Bread to the grocery store that I worked at was preparing to retire. He didn’t, because he couldn’t afford to, once the cuts were made. Needless to say he was a little bitter about it, but he tried to remain the same nice, loyal, company man that he had always been. The saga continued with more pay cuts, fewer benefits, lower pensions, and increased worker dissatisfaction. Another bankruptcy occurred earlier this year, and the company’s death spiral quickened. Do you really think that the greed of the workers caused this company to fail? They gave back until there was no more to give, while the new owners took until they had it all.

I have written before about the perils of Leveraged Buy-Outs and the havoc that they wreak on our nation’s economy. I really don’t understand why on earth we allow this kind of thing to continue when some simple changes to our tax laws could put an end to them and the destruction that they reap. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We are subject to the modern ‘golden rule’ in this country. The people with the gold make the rules. The rest of us are screwed. Personally, I am writing to my recently re-elected senator and asking him to put an end to leveraged buy-outs. Why don’t you do the same? It won’t take long. Next week it might be your job that needs saved.

Advertising Ourselves to Death

The elections are over, and apparently not much has changed. Once again America has opted for a status quo of inaction followed by crisis. We’ll probably never learn, but maybe that’s because of who we let teach us.

The bright spot in our after-election picture is that we are no longer inundated by the political attack ads that ran endlessly here in swing state hell, Ohio. Not to worry though, the non-stop Christmas advertisements have stepped smartly up to fill the void. Thank goodness for the DVR and its ability to skim past the commercials. On election night I heard one of the talking heads on TV saying that $3 or $4 billion were spent on political ads this year. He speculated how far along we would be on curing whatever disease we would have chosen to spend that money on instead. Noble thought, but man’s lust for power has always overshadowed his benevolence, and likely always will.

On my way out the door yesterday, I caught a few minutes of the Dr. Oz show on TV. He was talking about cancer, and offered some insight on the cause of deadly pancreatic cancer. Now I don’t know the sources of this guy’s research, but I understand that he is a fairly brilliant cardiothoracic surgeon. So you might be right to maintain a healthy skepticism with regard to his advice in the area of oncology, since cancer isn’t his specialty. However, Dr. Oz has always struck me as a well-meaning person, as well as someone who does his homework, so I listened.

Oz said that as little as two 12-ounce cans of soda pop a week leads to an excess of insulin production, which is a major factor leading to cancer of the pancreas. Drinking two cans of pop doubles your chance of getting pancreatic cancer. That’s twenty-four ounces of soda. I know lots of people that drink that much in a day, if not more. Now if you’re feeling pretty smug because the soda that you gulp daily is diet soda, you probably shouldn’t be feeling so swell either. I read something recently that said diet soda (as well as lots of other products containing artificial sweeteners) leads to excess belly fat and a host of other health problems. Seems that it triggers a desire for more food and more sugar in our bodies, and the processed foods that we rely on in our diets are full of sugars.

Now I’ve been a skeptic most of my life, and I don’t always fall for statistics that sound meaningful, but really aren’t that important. But when you combine all of the “expert research” that we’re subjected to with the observations available from the life (and death) that surrounds us, much of this stuff makes sense. The other day, I ran into an old friend from high school days that I hadn’t seen for years. At one point in our conversation, she ran down a list of people from our class who have already died (we’re still almost two decades shy of our average life expectancy). It was quite a list. Personally, both of my brothers are already dead, although both of my parents are still alive. My oldest brother was killed in a traffic accident when he was a teenager, so I certainly can't put that down to his diet, but my other brother succumbed to cancer.

For our parents’ generation (here I’m speaking of people born in the late-1920’s through early-1940’s), soda pop was a rare treat. Coke came in 6 ½ ounce bottles, and most other soda pops weren’t much larger. Pepsi made a big impact when it introduced a 12-ounce bottle in 1936. Most of the food consumed was made from scratch, not prepackaged and over-processed. Maybe that’s why my generation is dying-off while my parents’ generation lingers on.

Michael Bloomberg, the Mayor of New York City, has proposed a ban in the city for selling soda pop in sizes larger than 16-ounces. It’s probably a good idea for the health of the citizens, but most people think it’s a little crazy. It probably won’t even help much. I’m sure there’s one group of New Yorkers that aren’t pleased: the folks on Madison Avenue that dominate our advertising industry. I know that advertising has spread far beyond the confines of a single street in New York, but “Madison Avenue” still invokes the advertising industry, and is still instantly recognizable (think of TV’s “MadMen” a show about advertising in the late-50’s and early-60’s). These people have been influencing our decisions all of my life.

There lies our greatest problem. Our “education” is based on information provided by people who just want us to buy something. Once you buy it, they want you to buy more of it. If you don’t, they go out of business. Think about who it is that advertises most in this country. They’re the people who have the most to gain: makers of simple, low-cost products with high profit margins. Soft drink makers sell sugar-flavored carbonated water (either cane sugar-now rare, high-fructose corn syrup-the vast majority, or artificially sweetened) which is pretty cheap to make. The packaging and advertising cost more than the product itself. So we have to have more. Originally, Coca-Cola contained a pretty significant amount of cocaine, but now it uses “spent” coca leaves for its flavoring, as well as caffeine from the kola nut, also an addictive substance. One of the “benefits” of drinking Coke brought out in its early advertisements was its ability to “cure” morphine addiction. I’ll bet it’s pretty easy to “cure” alcohol or nicotine addiction with a switch to heroin, too. Probably not a good health choice though.

We succumb to advertising claims on a daily basis and not always to our benefit. Phosphate in our detergents made our washing machines more effective in removing stains from our clothes. But then we found out that it stayed in our wastewater and did severe damage to our lakes and streams. They had to change the formula (President Nixon signed the bill into law that banned phosphates, and launched the EPA), but they still need advertising to tell you that there is a major difference between different formulations of soap and water, and get you to favor their brand above all others.

In recent years we have seen a significant rise in advertising for prescription medicine. We see and hear claims for products that will cure a wide range of problems, including those that we didn’t even know were problems, like “restless leg syndrome”. The list of potential side effects is usually frightening, but they speed through those in a hushed voice at the end of the commercial, so how important can they be?  Pharmaceuticals have extensive costs associated with their development, but once you have the formula, they’re usually pretty cheap to make. The companies also have to reap the benefits while they are protected under patent laws, because when that expires, a flood of generic brands usually takes over the market. It’s easier for doctors to acquiesce to their patients’ desire for a particular medicine in order to “cure” the symptoms that the TV ad told them they had, than it is to try to get the patients to make healthier choices to begin with. It’s much, much easier if the doctor also has an investment portfolio that includes big blocks of stock in large pharmaceutical companies.

The biggest problem is that our nation continues a slide into lazy stupidity. How many issues were on the ballot in your area that would have increased tax funding for schools? How many of them were successful? The majority in my area failed. People don’t want to pay more taxes, and who can blame them? That’s fine with the folks in power (and I don’t mean our political leaders exclusively). The people that really call the shots in this country (and other countries as well) have very good educations, usually at exclusive private schools. If we enhanced public education, the entire population might become a bit more skeptical and less inclined to believe those authoritative voices on TV ads (we’re much too busy to read these days so we must get information from simpler sources). Those voices of authority tell us that buying more of their product will enhance our lives. Instead, we might be more inclined to follow the advice of those thoughtful people who only make money giving advice, instead of selling some mass-produced consumer good (yes, I know, consumer ads keep TV shows like Dr. Oz on the air).

If you are tired, try taking a nap instead of a stimulant, or just get more sleep at night. If you are thirsty, have some water (don’t worry, Coke and Pepsi bottle that stuff, too. They won’t go out of business) instead of soda pop. Try steaming broccoli, or making macaroni and cheese from real ingredients instead of a box. Seriously, learn a few simple recipes because you are killing your children with processed foods. It is much easier for parents to give-in to whining children screaming for candy at the store, but try another approach. I’ve witnessed the results first hand: harried mothers quickly buckling to the demands of their out-of-control kids to have some candy. The kids looked wired and unhealthy. I’ve seen other mothers remain firm and deny such requests, going as far to tell the kids “no” (Gasp! Can it be true? Doesn’t that lead to tormented psyche?). They then inform their child that they can have an apple or plum or nectarine or some grapes when they get home. It may not come as a surprise to you how much better such children look physically, and how much better they behave in public.

There has been a good deal of speculation about the failure of the massive amount political ads in the election, especially here in Ohio. Karl Rove simply couldn’t believe that the voters of Ohio were not swayed to vote for the Republican candidate. He had an on-air meltdown on Fox. It was really pretty sad. He did persuade almost half the Ohio electorate to vote his way. Thankfully it was just under half. But he, like many other political king-makers (and avid advertisers), failed to allow for the all-important “Law of Unintended Consequences.” What they mostly did was make us distrust all politicians. They made us so sick of commercials and other political ads that in an effort to maintain our sanity we simply tuned them out. Our state’s famous tiny fraction of undecided voters (really, you couldn’t decide even a few days before the election?) that swung the state to the incumbent must have simply flipped a coin in the end, and the fickle odds of chance made the decision for them. Or maybe they finally tuned out the bullshit, and searched their soul for reason. I think it was probably the coin, because if you didn’t understand the issues well enough, you probably lack the necessary mental acuity to find reason within yourself. Blame under-funded public schools. I do.

For the most part, however, advertising is effective. We are an easily swayed life form, and that is a shame. As a species, humans have a great deal of promise, but we’re blowing it. We are allowing ourselves to be advertised to death. All too often we fail to take the long view. Our health will improve if we make healthy choices. Our economy will improve if we produce more things here instead of buying cheaper foreign-made goods. Our people would be better off if we spent more money educating them to make good decisions, but these things don’t benefit us immediately, so it’s out of the question that we would do something to help our future generations at our own immediate expense. Yet, when you ask a parent what it is that they hope for most, the most likely reply is that they desire for their children to be healthy, and live in a better world than today’s mess. Most people don’t even stop to think about it. Their answer is routine. Probably something they heard on TV.    

“Children must be taught how to think, not what to think.” 

― Margaret Mead

Never Stop Learning

“Never stop learning.” Those were the words of advice that the Commander-in-Chief gave a US Marine as the two men drank ale on a porch off of the White House West Wing on the eve of an awards ceremony. It is a short sentence with great meaning, and we would be wise to always remember it, and take it to heart. The next day, President Obama presented Sergeant Dakota Meyer with the Congressional Medal of Honor, our nation’s highest military award. Meyer was the first living Marine recipient of the CMH in 38 years, only the third since the Vietnam War, and was given the award in recognition for his extraordinary courage under fire.

Yesterday, I finished reading Into the Fire: A Firsthand Account of the Most Extraordinary Battle in the Afghan War, written by Dakota Meyer and Bing West. It chronicles Meyer’s life and military service, and includes a description of the Battle of Ganjgal in Afghanistan conveyed with such intensity that it left me vibrating and reaching for a cigarette. I have the utmost respect and admiration for those who serve our country’s military, and this book only served to reinforce that feeling. Meyer was given top-notch training and top-notch equipment. Then they sent him into a no-win situation that would drive the sanest man crazy. The book points out the problems and ultimate futility of trying to wage a limited war in a country that has been fought over, but never fully subdued, for all of recorded history. Read the book for yourself and draw your own conclusions. It won’t take very long, and it’s worth the additional knowledge that it provides. Never stop learning: it’s very good advice.

I read something else last night, although it turns out that some people in a position of power would have liked it best if no one read it. A report was prepared by the Congressional Research Service and released to members of Congress in September. Usually, such reports are not released to the general public, and after reading this one it is clear that most people wouldn’t even try to slog through the details. The CRS does that sort of thing all of time. It’s one of three agencies that also includes the Congressional Budget Office (CBO) and the Government Accountability Office (GAO) which provide our legislative branch with non-partisan, accurate, and objective information, so that they can hopefully make better decisions. The CRS serves as a “think tank” for our government, and their reports and research are generally highly regarded.

The report in question is titled “Taxes and the Economy: An Economic Analysis of the Top Tax Rates Since 1945” and for the most part it lived up to the non-excitement promised by its title. It’s full of things like multivariate linear regression analysis that used to make me yawn in business school, and still do now. It is important to remember that this report was prepared objectively, on a non-partisan basis. The CRS exists only to provide a service; it has no ideological ax to grind. One of the main conclusions of the report is that there is no relationship between reducing top income tax rates for the wealthy and new job creation. No evidence supports a link between allowing the wealthiest Americans to keep a bit of extra money after taxes so that they can supposedly use those extra funds to invest in new jobs for everyone else. There is however evidence that indicates lowering the top marginal tax rate increases the gap between rich and poor, by allowing more funds to accrue to top earners. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer.

The reason that I almost didn’t get to read it was that Mitch McConnell, the leading Senate Republican, and his Senate followers, objected to wording and conclusions in the report and forced the CRS to withdraw it pending further study. Seems they had issues with phrases such as “Bush Tax Cuts” that referenced reductions to the top marginal tax rate made during Bush’s administration, but not directly by Bush himself. The report also references House Budget Committee Chairman (and current Republican VP nominee) Paul Ryan’s the Path to Prosperity by name and disagrees with Ryan’s solutions. One could easily draw the conclusion (most already have) that what really irked those forty or so Republican Senators (who seem to wield way too much power these days), was that the report refutes the central premise of their party’s economic theory. Supply-side economics don’t work. Lowering taxes for rich people does not create jobs. It is time that we all learn to deal with that reality, but as our election approaches, Republicans continue to say that we need to lower taxes for wealthy people in order to create more jobs.

Sen. Chuck Schumer (D-N.Y.), referencing the CRS report, told the New York Times, "This has hues of a banana republic. They didn't like a report, and instead of rebutting it, they had them take it down." Yes, this is strong-arm politics at its worst.

In the war in Afghanistan, policies in place to prevent potential harm to the civilian population prevented Dakota Meyer’s team from receiving the artillery support that might have saved their lives. Among the many allied casualties that day were four Marine advisors from Meyer’s four-man training team (Dakota had been replaced that day, because he was trained as a sniper, and they were going in just to talk with village leaders). Command decisions were made (or in this case, avoided) at a rear echelon command base, instead of in the field where they would have been more effective, and where most military scholars, including Gen. Colin Powell, believe they should reside. During the battle, the civilian population of Ganjgal had either fled the area, witnessed by Meyer and others from their rear echelon position before the battle, or joined in with the Taliban to fight the joint US-Afghan forces who had come to town for a talk with village elders. Such is the ebb and flow of political allegiance in Afghanistan, and one of the reasons that makes finding the bad guys so difficult in that country. They change sides daily.

On the other hand, in the war for the hearts and minds of the American voter, we are faced with information controlled by a handful of self-interested senators, instead of being able to read and digest the information for ourselves. The evidence really points to a small group of people more interested in consolidating wealth and power into the hands of a selected group of followers, instead of providing a workable solution to the problems faced by the vast majority of Americans. But if you believe that these people have your best interests at heart, then give them your vote. Just think about renaming the country “The Banana Republic of America” because the country we will live in will not the one envisioned by the framers of our constitution. They proudly named us “The United States of America” and it remains the country that I love, and maintain a hope for its future.

Never stop learning. These are words of advice to live by. Use your brain, don’t let it rot, or be influenced by thirty-second bursts of misinformation, half-truths, and outright lies. Seek out unbiased information if you can, and try to discern the real reasons behind the information that you are being provided. Most importantly, make your voice heard. Make your vote count. Protect yourself. Above all, never stop learning.

“There is not conclusive evidence, however, to substantiate a clear relationship between the 65-year steady reduction in the top tax rates and economic growth. Analysis of such data suggests the reduction in the top tax rates have had little association with saving, investment, or productivity growth. However, the top tax rate reductions appear to be associated with the increasing concentration of income at the top of the income distribution.”
 -From “Taxes and the Economy: An Economic Analysis of the Top Tax Rates Since 1945” published by the Congressional Research Service

      

(Congressional) Medal of Honor

Navy Version

Worst Socialists Ever

Well, the US General Election is barreling toward us like a hurricane. It will be over soon, one way or another, and I won’t be missing those political ads at all. They’ve reduced one poor little girl to tears: in her viral video, she said she hates both candidates for president. Here in Ohio, we’ve been spared from the worst of Hurricane Sandy’s wrath, but my thoughts go out those who have suffered the most. A friend used to always say that “we hang by a silver thread,” meaning that something life-changing can happen at any moment, and that was surely on display on our east coast this week.

Last week, before the storms grabbed all of the headlines, my local paper’s business section had several stories (which I mentioned in an earlier post) that seemed to bode well for our economy. The unemployment rate continued to fall in our area. A headline proclaimed that the United States could become the world’s top oil producer, explaining that there is currently a boom in oil and other liquid hydrocarbon production in our country. In our local economy, a new retail store and a new hotel that caters to long-term business travelers are planned for the county. It was such a flood of good economic news, that I was startled by the headline of an article at the bottom of the page.

“Stocks sink as DuPont, Xerox, 3M scare investors” the headline of The Associated Press release announced. It seems that despite three years of growing profit for these and other “Blue Chip” companies, revenues (money received from operations, such as sales) are down. Part of the problem lies elsewhere in the world: these are truly global companies after all, and demand has fallen off worldwide. In addition, investors are worried that corporate cost-cutting has reached its limit. I don’t think that’s really the case. There is one area with enormous cost saving potential that is never discussed: executive compensation.

In 2011, the CEO of Xerox was paid $12,902,607 (all figures include salary/bonus, benefits and stock options) representing an amount 379 times what was paid to the average worker. The Chief Executive of DuPont received $15,926,631, or 468 times what the average employee earned, and 3M’s CEO was compensated $25,391,738 which was 746 times the pay for one of the company’s average employees. Those CEOs are way behind the leader. The CEO of Apple, Timothy Cook, was paid $377,996,537, or 11,100 times the average employee compensation. To be fair to Cook, most of his compensation was in the form of stock options, which could decrease in value by the time he exercises them, but still, that’s a whole lot of executive compensation.

Of course you know by now that I love history, especially the insight that it can offer to our current situation. So let’s look back a few years. In 1980, the average CEO compensation for all of the companies included in the Standard & Poor 500 was 42 times the average worker’s pay. In 2011, the average CEO in the S&P 500 received 380 times more than the average worker. I don’t know about you, but I find that number staggering. It boggles my mind, and it raises a few questions, including the main one: why so much more now than just over thirty years ago?

It also answers the question that I thought of when I first saw the headline, which was why would a company come out at the end of October and warn its investors that problems are on the way for the companies’ profitability? Well, I think the simple answer is that these executives would like everyone to think that our current President isn’t up to the task of doing what is best for American businesses. Furthermore, we would be much better off if we would elect a Republican who has more than demonstrated his own support for big business, as well as support for the concept of rule by the wealthy. Personally, I don’t think it really matters, since history has shown (there’s that old “historical perspective” thing again) that the stock market has actually performed better under Democrat presidents than it has under Republicans. Both parties are in the pockets of the corporations, and there is little evidence that any significant changes are forthcoming. However, those people at the top, the top 1% of income earners, want to make sure that they stay where they are: at the top. Also, in order for that to happen, that everyone else stays at the bottom.

The new flood of unrestrained PAC-money sponsored political ads really has me freaked out. Does anyone really believe this nonsense? Is anyone really this uninformed? Of course they are. We’ve been taught from an early age to respect authority, and what’s more informative than the deep, reassuring voice of authority from TV news, which is mimicked in the political ads? Serious television journalists such as Edward R. Murrow and Walter Cronkite set a standard for unbiased reporting in the middle of the 20th century, and many of us assume that this integrity continues in all newsrooms today. It really doesn't. Our media is owned by large corporate entities that mostly dispense the news that they want us to hear. The political ads twist facts so badly in an effort to frighten us into giving them our vote that it should be a criminal act. It won’t be unless we speak up as an overwhelming group, and that won’t happen.

The latest political ad that has made me nauseous is from an Eastern European guy who talks about growing up under Socialism. He speaks in the background about the failure of the Socialist system while pictures from post-World War II Europe flash across the screen. He concludes with the statement that he plans to vote Republican this election, because Socialism doesn’t work. The implication is that Democrats favor Socialism. They don’t. Never did. Not once.

I reiterate the following fact: our economy has fared better in recent history under Democratic administrations than it has under Republican administrations. That is information supported by evidence. The commercial cited above is the worst kind of fear-mongering propaganda. The people who fill your head with such nonsense do not deserve your vote. I was once a pro-business Republican. I’m not sure if I’m now a Democrat, but I still love my country, and want what is best for her people, as well as what is best for all of the world’s people. I’m fairly certain that capitalism is the best way for people to succeed in this world, but I have seen the problems associated with unrestrained capitalism. Human greed needs to be kept in check. We need rules and regulations to help the little guy, because the success of our nation rests on the success of our rapidly vanishing middle class. History has demonstrated this time and again. Capitalism works, but unrestrained capitalism only works for the ones with the most money and most power.

So what should you do? Cast your vote for the people who are going to benefit you the most. If you are a member of the middle class, or even poor, you would be wise to vote for the Democrats. If you’re a multi-millionaire, that means you probably think you should vote for the Republicans. Guess what? History has shown us that your stock portfolio will probably improve more under a Democrat’s administration (check out the following graph). As far as Socialism goes, history has already demonstrated that the last two Democrats to hold the office of President of the United States of America would be considered two of the worst Socialists ever. More like Capitalists, really good Capitalists.

“Self-interest makes some people blind, and others sharp-sighted.”

-Francois de La Rochefoucauld

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

High School Football and Political Rallies

It’s late October in Ohio. Thursday’s temperature topped eighty degrees with abundant sunshine, but Friday started out gray and overcast, and temperatures fell all day, with the promise of a bit of rain by evening. That’s Ohio: if you don’t like the weather, stick around a few minutes, it’ll change. The political weather in Ohio is subject to similarly wide variations. It’s an important “swing state” if one wishes to become the chief occupant of the White House for the next four years. According to those who know such things, this year Ohio is the only key to a win. So tonight, here in solidly middle-class North Canton, both Mitt Romney and his running mate Paul Ryan are putting on a show in a last ditch effort to win the election by taking this state.

The mayor, apparently a hopeful up and coming aspirant in the party, was giddy with anticipation when he announced the event a few days ago. It would be held on the Hoover Viking’s baseball field on Friday night. The venue was available because the football team played their last game of the regular season against their archrival, Jackson Township’s Polar Bears, at Jackson (apparently even the possible next President couldn’t get the football field, because Hoover has playoff potential, and NO ONE gets to mess up the football field). Football’s close to a religion around these parts. The Pro Football Hall of Fame is just down Interstate-77 in Canton. The Massillon-McKinley game (played on Saturday afternoon, instead of Friday night) is a high school game with national recognition. But Romney-Ryan needs Ohio, so they risked playing against the area’s favorite pastime in order to secure votes.

The turnout was probably as good as they had hoped. Crowds began preparing at the start of the day. Disposable rain ponchos sold out by 10 AM at the dollar store on the corner of North Main Street, a few blocks west of the high school. As evening approached, the crowds began to stream in from all over. The manager of the dollar store is a farm kid from the sticks who describes himself as a “true independent,” but whose father was an old school union man. An atypical collection of Cadillac SUVs, Lexus and Mercedes-Benz automobiles begin to occupy his store’s parking lot, free of charge, for the duration of the event, squeezing out potential paying customers. He expresses regret that he didn’t dress his cashier in a “Big Bird” costume and charge $10 per car, with all proceeds going to save the Public Broadcasting System (Romney has already threatened to eliminate funding for PBS). Republicans may speak with disgust at those Americans seeking entitlements, but apparently no one feels more entitled to do as they please, such as steal free parking from a local retail outlet and make it impossible for actual customers to park, than an upwardly-mobile Republican on a mission to see their candidate. So much for a pro-business stance: yeah, we’re pro-business, unless your business is in the way of our goal for the moment.    

Inside the dollar store, the assistant manager adds his regret, wishing that a coin operated box would have been installed on the restroom doors, another very popular destination for the pre-rally crowd with their bladders full of Starbucks. He added that those proceeds could have been donated to Planned Parenthood, another planned funding victim for the candidate down the street. Down the street, a budding entrepreneur was hawking Romney-Ryan T-shirts, buttons and stickers, obtained free from campaign headquarters, for a hefty mark-up. Through the wonders of modern technology, he was able to accept payment at his little cart on the street in the form of credit or debit cards. I wonder how far such technology would have progressed if our nation hadn’t funded the space program back in the 1960’s? So much of the technological wonders that we take for granted today are a direct result of that noble ambition spearheaded by President Kennedy over fifty years ago. But hey, who needs big government now, right?

At the rally, the newspaper reported, The Oak Ridge Boys, with their bizarrely long, gray beards waving in the brisk wind, performed the National Anthem. One of our County Commissioners, a former high school cheerleader-turned-politician introduced a nun that led the opening prayer for the event of mainly Protestant onlookers. Other local politicians took their turn at the podium, building up excitement for the night’s main guests, who had yet to arrive. Back at the dollar store at the corner, the State Trooper who had been dozing in his SUV in the parking lot for hours suddenly stirred and performed the one duty expected of him. He blocked traffic at the intersection for the motorcade speeding on its way from the airport to the baseball field. Then he vanished into the night, freeing up one precious parking space at the store for anyone unimportant enough to wish to shop at a store catering to lower-income types. Inside the store, the manager watched the endless procession of flashing lights speed by and jokingly whispered to his assistant that a well-placed RPG could do a lot of good for the country right now. The independent had momentarily morphed into a would-be anarchist, but only for a moment, and only in his dreams.

Less than an hour later, fireworks filled the sky, announcing the end of the festivities and sending the crowd home filled with hope for a bright future under the leadership of the multimillionaire Leveraged-Buyout-King who would-be President. As the BOOM-BOOM-BOOM of explosions from the pyrotechnic light show rattled the glass at the dollar store, the manager and his assistant watched the procession returning to their illegally abandoned cars in the parking lot of their empty store. None of them came inside to make a purchase, or offer an apology for their rude decision to take what wasn’t theirs. Outside, the store’s employees were saying farewell to one of the night’s last customers, a young man who had spent all day setting-up the event. He was now heading back to clean up the mess, fortified by a candy bar and an energy drink, and facing a sixteen-hour workday, for minimum wage. The assistant manager called out to him: “Say hello to Thurston for me!” The young man stared back blankly. “You know, Thurston Howell III,” he added, hopeful that the youngster would make the connection between the clueless fictional millionaire from TV’s Gilligan’s Island and the candidate who had just spoke. The reference may have been lost on the sugar-amped event worker, but an older woman, walking by and carrying a “Romney-Ryan” sign, was unable to repress her smirk. Good thing she has a sense of humor, because she’ll need it if her candidate gets elected: things don’t look too hopeful for her gender under Romney. Perhaps she’ll be lucky and end up in one of Mitt’s “Binders Full of Women”.

North Canton, Ohio, may seem a strange choice for a Republican rally. Right in the center of the city’s square sits the former Hoover Company, a pioneer in the production of vacuum sweepers. They used to make great products: the area is full of sweepers forty, and even fifty years old, that still work fine. There’s one in the closet at my house. The city lost 2,400 jobs when the plant closed and its jobs were sent to Mexico and China (the same sort of thing that Bain Capital has been doing to American jobs for years). But the city has always been on the conservative side. McCain won North Canton in the last election, although the current President carried the county and the state. The city has one of the two best public school systems in the county, with Jackson Township (that Friday night’s football opponent) having the other one. That night at the rally, the candidate spoke about his plan for a voucher system that would allow people the freedom to send their kids to any charter school they wanted. However, the citizens watching had moved to this city so that their kids could attend one of the best public schools in the area. Go figure.

In his speech, the candidate agreed that the President had inherited a poor economic situation when he took office (yes, only the worst one since the Great Depression). He didn’t mention that it was caused by Republican tax cuts for the wealthy and deregulation of financial markets, which he has previously promised to do again (worked so well the first time). Romney went on to say that President Obama’s policies were not working to improve our financial condition. However, two days earlier in the local paper’s Business Section, headlines reported that the area’s jobless rate continued to decrease (6.5% currently in our county vs. 8.6% a year ago), as well as a headline that said: “US soon may become the world’s top oil producer.” In addition, the paper reported that a new retail operation was planned for a rural area in the county, and a new extended stay motel (the kind favored by visiting business people) was planned for the county’s main commercial district. If I’m not mistaken, all of those things point to positive growth in the economy. Seems like something must be going right, doesn’t it?

The would-be leaders of the free world were whooshed out of town as fast as they could be after the rally, as their now freezing supporters strolled back to wherever they had abandoned their expensive automobiles. If the staff at the dollar store had been a little less fearful about an adverse reaction from the corporate office, they would have blessed each bumper on the illegally parked cars in their lot with an “Obama-Biden” bumper sticker. But that would have been nasty, and they’re really much nicer guys than that. And even though they work at rather menial positions at a dollar store catering to lower income customers, they may have a better idea of what’s good for the country that they love as anyone attending the rally that night.

Oh, by the way, a little later that night the North Canton Hoover High Vikings defeated the Jackson Polar Bears by a score of 42 to 7, giving them a berth in the high school football playoffs. It’s important to remember things that really matter to a community. I hope that when the residents of my hometown are driving to the polls on Election Day, they will drive past the abandoned factory in the Town Square and think of the good jobs that were sent to foreign countries by LBO specialists like the guy running for president. And I hope they do remember what’s best for them and their country.  

    Budding entrepreneur at Romney-Ryan campaign event, hawking merchandise from his cart. Handheld technology allows him to accept credit and debit cards.

Oak Ridge Boys perform national anthem at North Canton Rally