My Immigrant Encounter

Yesterday it was time for a haircut. Unlike my wife, I'm not very particular who cuts my hair. I usually go to one of those "guys only" places and roll the dice. It's a different girl every month practically, but they all seem capable so what the heck, right? Well, yesterday I got a new stylist...Anna.

Anna shook my hand and introduced herself with a timid, whispering voice. Her smile seemed forced and cautious. She was Hispanic. Her English was fine but she spoke with a thick accent. Making small talk, I observed that she must be new since I had never seen her before. "Yes...I am new. Would you like the MVP?" 

Anna stood out like a sore thumb. Unlike the usual loud, flirtatious banter common at a where guys get their hair cut, her attempts at conversation were whispered, polite and careful. Mostly she went about her business with single-minded concentration. There was an odd sadness about her. Still, she practiced her craft with great gentleness and care. It was a great haircut.

When I went to pay, I entered a more generous than usual tip in the gratuity line of the ticket. When I gave it to her and she saw it, she actually lifted a hand to her mouth in astonishment, looked at me with tears in her eyes and whispered the word...gracias.

The subject of immigration is a lightning rod issue nowadays, although for millions of people like me the issue isn't immigration itself, but rather...illegal immigration, which is no mere distinction without a difference. I have no idea whether Anna is an immigrant or an illegal immigrant. I would assume that since she has a job and speaks English, she is probably here legally. If not, then my first instinct would be to find the owner  and throw the book at him/her! In my opinion, the real villains in the illegal immigration saga are the employers who hire them. As for Anna, well that's where I get mushy. Even if she is here illegally, I have a hard time working up any indignation towards her. When I met her, she was in hour seven of a ten hour shift. She looked exhausted and lost, and yet she smiled and did her job with great care and skill. It's very hard not to root for someone like Anna. 

Of course, the cynical reader might point out that perhaps I would feel differently about the Anna's of the world if they were all trained investment advisors, competing in my business, willing to work for half the fee. True. But, to compete in my line of work, Anna would have to be here legally. There are just too many federal paperwork requirements in the investment world to overcome without proper documentation. Still, it's a valid point. But, as a human being with a beating heart, I suppose I have a gigantic weak spot for anyone willing to leave hearth and home to come to America seeking a better life. I want Anna to make it, and I'm not interested in throwing her on a bus and sending her back where she came from arbitrarily. But, while my heart beats, it doesn't bleed. We are a nation of laws and we must enforce them. Opening the borders to all comers, no questions asked is national suicide...hence the problem.

The solution has to contain elements of both the rule of law and enlightened compassion. Crafting that solution will require people of good will, intelligence and imagination in the halls of power.

Good luck with that.

Donald Trump Is An Idiot

At the risk of alienating many of you, can I just say that Donald Trump is an idiot? I guess so, because I just did. Let me count the ways...

This self-promoting narcissist is running for President the way you or I might take up stamp collecting. It's his new hobby. His qualifications for the job seem to be his often repeated observation that he's "really rich!" Yes, Mr. Trump, you are really rich. That often happens when one inherits a real estate empire from one's father, then greases every palm from Staten Island to Palm Beach to build yuuuuuuge gaudy monuments to your own ego with other people's money. Going bankrupt four times isn't a red flag, its a resume enhancement.

Thus far, the Donald, has ridden a wave of voter frustration and anger at the illegal immigration problem to the top of the polls. His famously intemperate remarks about Mexican immigrants being primarily murderers and rapists have been greeted by his supporters as evidence of his unique ability to   "tell it like it is." What we need, they say, is someone who isn't politically correct. Ok, that's fine. But how about we ask those who tell it like it is to tell it like it really is? How about we ask his Trumpness to explain why he hires so many of those murdering rapists to build his buildings, and mow the vast fairways of his golf courses? Trump Tower would be Trump Shanty without the hordes of immigrant laborers who built it.

But, my biggest objection to the man with the World's Most Hideous CombOver is his attempt to portray himself as a conservative who longs for a smaller, less intrusive government. This is on a par with Barack Obama trying to sell himself as an Evangelical Rotarian. Any casual investigation into his political contribution history will reveal that Trump loves him plenty of big government democrats, most impressively, Hillary Clinton. Small government? Are you kidding me? When you look up the term, eminent domain in the dictionary, Donald Trump's picture is there. Put it this way...Trump was FOR big government before he was against it. The only Party that Donald Trump cares about is the uber-exclusive one he's throwing at Trump Plaza next week where he gets to get his picture taken with Taylor Swift...or some other star of the moment.

Listen, I'm also troubled about illegal immigration and the hash that has been made of the rule of law on the subject by the Obama Administration. But, call me crazy, but I'm thinking that we shouldn't be considering electing a man to be our next President who has his own line of cologne, just because he correctly identified a national problem with tough, straight talk. Tough talk is nice, but it's no substitute for intelligence.

My feeling is that Trump will eventually flame out. His buffoonery will ultimately become obvious to all but his most devoted sycophants. Then he can go back to building kitschy gold-plated junk with his name plastered across the side. He's only 69, he's probably got at least another couple of bankruptcies in him.