The REAL Two Americas

Now that the Presidential election campaign is under way, it's time for that time-honored and throughly hackneyed debate topic to rear its ugly head...are their TWO AMERICAS??

Actually, there are probably 18-20 Americas, if you want to get technical about it, but I will concentrate on the Two America shtick here for purposes of clarity. Usually, this trope is most often raised by liberal democrats, although increasingly, republicans have fallen victim to its usage. The basic idea is that America is a horrible place because not everyone is doing equally well. The very existence of wealth means that somewhere, somehow, someone must be poor. The inference is that the wealthy dude came upon his wealth by some fraudulent means, either through inheritance, malfeasance, or chicanery. Insane levels of wealth should shame us. Let me here admit that part of this line of reasoning rings true to me. For example...

How can it be possible that Kanye West is a multi-millionaire ten times over, when a classically trained oboist has to take a second job to pay the rent on his one bedroom apartment in New York City? How is it that Kim Kardashian is worth more money than all the music teachers in American high schools combined? The answer is, of course, that there is absolutely no accounting for taste. Besides, both Mr. West and Ms. Kardashian have obtained their wealth by a series of free exchanges by the individual Americans who watch their shows and buy their records.

Capitalism never promised that it would make the right people rich, only that it would make more people rich than any other economic system ever created. Yes, capitalism has flaws, chief among them  the unavoidably unequal distribution of wealth that always and forever will result so long as talent, ambition, and education are unequally distributed throughout society. But, to hear the Two America's crowd tell it, everyone in America is either rich or poor, so inefficiently has American capitalism allocated resources. Their solution is an invigorated roll for centralized planners in Washington, a much steeper progressive taxation regime, in other words...wealth redistribution, not much different from the old Marxist line about from each according to their ability, to each according to their needs.

But, where do I fit in this grim dichotomy? I am certainly not poor, by any measure that a reasonable person might use to determine such things. However, to declare me rich would also be quite a stretch. Most rich people I'm thinking aren't paying off two mortgages and a college loan. Actually, if I were rich, I wouldn't require a loan to educate my kids, but that's another story. Unfortunately, the Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clintons of this world all agree that my income places me firmly in the "people from whom wealth must be extracted" list. Well, ok then.

But, enough with this class warfare hogwash. Let's talk about the real dichotomy that exists in America, the one that no politician wants to talk about:

There ARE Two Americas...

1. Southerners...and everybody else.

2. People who love soccer and people who don't.

3. Gamers...and everybody else.

4. People who drink lite beer...and everybody else.

5. People who talk loudly on their cell phones while standing in line in a small enclosed area with twenty other people who don't care to hear the specifics of what this idiot wants for dinner...and everyone else.

6. People who prefer ice in their sweet tea, and those who don't.

7. Hunters...and everybody else.

8. New York Yankee fans...and knowledgable, sportsmanship-loving fans everywhere.

9. People who have all the answers...and people who are just trying to figure stuff out.

10. People who prefer paper...and plastic people.

Chiropractors and Squirrels

My chiropractor turned out to be nothing like the caricature of my imagination. He was young, blond and hip with the build of a pole vaulter. He greeted me with a firm handshake and in the fifteen minutes of our time together never once stopped talking. Even when his hands were engaged in inflicted pain on my neck, he kept attempting to educate me on the finer points of soft tissue disruption. Every so often he would ask for a response from me as in, "how does this feel?", to which I would try to answer in as manly a way as possible that it "wasn't too bad." Truth be known, it was quite excruciating.

You never want to hear any doctor say, "oh dear." But, two minutes in, he's oh dear-ing the condition of the soft tissue around my neck. Then he goes on and on about how after he gets done, I will probably be a little sore for a couple of days but that he is so excited because he is sure that he can help me...then it happened. Suddenly, he gripped both sides of my head securely and gave a violent yank to the right filling the room with a loud SNAP!!! Up until this point, I had been determined not to let out any whining whimpers of pain, no matter what he did, but this time I heard myself let out something that sounded like..."ummm...GAAAAAAAAAKKKKKK, What the heck was that!!??" 

He assured me that what he had just done was crucial to my recovery and that I would thank him later. Actually, my neck did feel better after this scary yank, so I said nothing. Then he handed me off to his assistant whose job it would be to teach me five excercizes to do every day. Think...a 25 year old nurse Ratchet...Then, it was off to a small room where I was instructed to lie face down on a padded table, where my nurse affixed four electrodes at various places on my neck, then covered my entire back and neck area with heavy and hot blankets. She then says, "Now, I'm going to turn these on and you need to tell me when you can feel the tingling and when it's not too uncomfortable let me know."

"When it's not too uncomfortable," isn't exactly a phrase that puts the mind at ease. However, this ten minute procedure was the most enjoyable part of my visit. I was told that the purpose of it was to help break up the damaged soft tissue thing. All I know is that when it was over, my neck felt better than it has in weeks, at least it did for about thirty minutes. Before I knew what was happening I heard myself agree to another visit next Tuesday when they would let me know exactly how much these visits were actually going to cost, since I still hadn't satisfied the gargantuan deductible on my health insurance,(Thanks, OBAMA!).

So, there you have it. I survived my first trip to the Chiroprator, and it may have helped...a little, I think...maybe.

One more thing that has nothing to do with my neck...the squirrels have returned. This year's batch are more brazen and cunning than any from years past, actually eating my tomatoes before they even get ripe! Last night I was firing at will at one particularly pesky one when right at the worst possible time I ran out of ammo!! He looked straight at me and I swear I saw him smile, actually more like a smirk. This will never happen again, my friends. I finally found my ammo stash this morning and I am loaded and locked, baby. This is war!

Let's Eliminate a Bunch of Zeros

Back in 2012 President Obama, to the exquisite delight of Statists everywhere, rangled a tax increase from Republicans in Congress. The top income tax rate increased from 35 to 39.6%. In addition, the top tax rate on dividends and capital gains also went up from 15 to 20%. An additional 3.8% levy on dividends, interests, capital gains and royalties also kicked in courtesy of Obamacare. Consequently, through July of 2015, the federal government just set a record by collecting a whopping 2.6 trillion dollars through the first ten months of the fiscal year. For those of you who would like to see what that actually looks like written out....$2,672,414,000,000.00. There are currently only 148 million of us actually working either full or part time. That means that the government took an average of $18,000 from every worker in the United States.

For most enterprises, record revenue announcements are cause for jubilant celebrations and perhaps a champagne toast. But, fun fact, over this same record breaking ten months, the government spent $3,147,953,000,000.00. So despite record revenue, our government managed to add another 466 billion dollars to the debt, or more accurately, $465,539,000,000.00. So, tell me again why the government has a revenue problem and not a spending problem?

It has always frustrated me that neither political party seems to give a flying fig about this. Republicans occasionally conjure up some faux outrage, but whenever they actually have a chance to do something about it, they don't. Democrats don't even try to fake it. Deficits? Who cares about deficits when there are voters to buy? The problem is that the numbers are just so large and terrifying, most people can't wrap their heads around it, so we would just rather not think about it at all. Well, I'm here to help. Let's cut this thing down to size by eliminating a bunch of zeros!

Suppose your take home pay every month was $2,642.00. Let's also suppose that you routinely spent $3,148.00 every month. Very soon, you would be in some serious trouble, right? I mean in 12 short months, you would have piled up over $6000 in debt! At this point, you would have dwindling options. You could get a second job, rob a bank, or maybe buckle down and do something about your spending habits. But surely we can all agree that the last thing you would do is purchase a new car! 

So, the next time any candidate for President announces some new fabulous program promising some free something or other, remind yourself about the car thing. Why would we spend more money we don't have before we fix the going in the hole every month thing? And when they assure us that over some ten or twenty year period ( fortunately long after they are out of office), the new program will have paid for itself, ask them, "how about coming up with a program that will pay for the 18 TRILLION DOLLARS of other programs that we still haven't paid for before we add any new ones onto the pile?"

Tomorrow is a Big Day!

Alright Sports fans, tomorrow is the big day. It's the day that my neck begins the road to recovery. Yes, tomorrow I have my first chiropractic experience. 

Now, I know that the last time I wrote on this subject, I made some less than flattering remarks about the chiropractic sciences. But that was before my Orthopaedic doctor requested that I go see one. It is his view that at the current stage of my decrepitude, it might offer some level of relief. He was quick to point out that it wasn't a long term solution, assuring me that long term I am well and fairly screwed. However, I enter this new phase of my treatment with unbridled enthusiasm.

Several friends have told me of the many benefits to be had by regular visits. Although, none of them have been willing to go into any details as to what exactly goes on during the sessions, leaving my fertile imagination running wild with possibilities. When someone described it as, realigning the spine, it did trouble me since realigning someone's spine sounds quite painful. Are any tools involved? Does this spinal manipulation,(another frightening formulation), require clinched teeth biting down hard on a stick? The mind reels at the possibilities.

Judging by the website of the place I'm going, my guy's doing alright. The site makes my Broker Dealer's website look like it was designed by a dyslectic middle schooler. There are big beautiful pictures of smiling doctors, nurses and positively ecstatic patients. There are lots of moving parts and colorful drop down boxes, and bunches of links to all manner of holistic remedies for everything from bunions to beriberi. There's even an entire section of the site devoted to dispelling MYTHS ABOUT CHIROPRACTIC CARE. In it I learn that back in the 1950's chiropractors picked up an unfortunate reputation as the equivalent of medical used car salesmen, who would come into some unsuspecting small town, set up shop, rip off a bunch of rubes, then move on to the next town. Not so any longer. Today, modern Chrioprators are highly educated, extensively trained professionals, who have earned a respected place at the table that is modern health care. 

I'm counting on it.

Donald Trump. The Teflon Candidate.

News came today that after Donald Trump's boorish performance in the first Republican Presidential debate, his poll numbers increased. At this point I believe that if pictures of Trump having sex with Bill Clinton were to surface, the headline on Drudge would be, "Trump Gains Support Among Homosexuals, latest poll finds..." The man can apparently do no wrong with a rather sizable section of the electorate.

This is very much unchartered territory. American has never seen a candidate like Donald Trump. A man that doesn't even know when he actually became a Republican, and won't promise not to run as an independent, killing any Republican chances for victory...is currently the front runner for the Republican nomination. His supporters seem to believe that his one qualification to become President is the fact that he speaks his mind and isn't politically correct. It is true that he seems to speak his mind. But, what if his mind is a place wherein no coherent thought resides? Suppose his only policy ideas turn out to be being rude to people, and calling women bimbos on Twitter all night? Well, the answer to the question right now seems to be...so what?

This all brings me to this disturbing thought. Suppose that what is going on right now is the cumulative result of fifteen years of an American culture that has been so relentlessly celebrity-obsessed, we can no longer distinguish celebrity from politics? After Hollywood has beaten us over the head with one reality show after another where fortunes have been made by people who have become famous simply for being...famous, do we now expect our politics to work like realty TV where the loudest, most insipid, most over the top jerks become the biggest, richest stars? Has Donald Trump become the Kim Kardashian of Presidential politics? Everybody knows she's a narcissistic, empty headed drip, but everything she touches turns to gold so, she's still a star. Money makes right. 

If anyone else who has run for the presidency in my lifetime ever said the things that Donald Trump has said over the last couple of months, he or she would be the laughing stock of the country and drummed out of polite society. But, it's August 10, 2015, 15 months before Election Day, and nobody is laughing. At this point I would rather believe the conspiracy theories about his candidacy than face what might be the truth. I would rather believe that Trump is actually a Manchurian candidate cooked up by the Clintons to destroy Republican chances. That way I don't have to face the possible truth that we have lost the adult ability to be a serious people when faced with the most serious of our civic decisions. Have we really decided to throw our support behind the loudest, meanest, most juvenile candidate of all time on the recommendation that he isn't afraid to say what he thinks? Rudeness is not a policy. Bad manners isn't a plan. Bombast isn't the same as leadership. But don't tell Donald Trump. So far, it's worked like a charm.

A Healthy Exercise

Usually people wait until moments of personal crisis before counting their blessings. Mostly it's because, we hate to consider how fortunate we are. Yes, I know that sounds counter-intuitive, but the fact is that it's much more satisfying to wallow in self pity than it is to acknowledge how good we actually have it in life. The entire exercise of being thankful tends to remind us of how inconsequential our so-called problems are. So, most of us would rather dwell on the negative. Don't believe me? Read a newspaper.

Right now in my life, there are no pressing issues, no existential crisis afoot that is causing me to question everything. In fact, aside from a couple of degenerative disks, I've got it pretty good. Of course, everything could change in a flash. On my way to work this morning I might be the only eye witness to a traffic accident involving  a van full of #BLACKLIVESMATTER protesters and a pick up truck carrying a huge confederate flag in the back driven by a Donald Trump supporter. Just like that, my life could be thrown into chaos! So, I feel inclined to strike while the iron is hot and list out every blessing of life that has come my way...now...before I get rear-ended by a Bernie Sanders supporter who decides to sue me for driving a car that enraged her because of my naked white privilege.

1. For 57, I'm pretty darned healthy.

2. I am married to a strong, beautiful, intelligent woman.

3. I have two incredible children who combined haven't given me a minutes worth of trouble their entire lives.

4. I have a large and boisterous family that love me and have my back.

5. I have the best, most supportive in-laws in the world.

6. Pam and I have accumulated some of the most amazing friends over the years.

7. I live in an incredible time in world history, where technological advances have made my life so much easier than any generation in history.

8. I am an American and as such am heir to a legacy of freedom and liberty unmatched in human history.

9. In over 31 years of marriage, Pam and I have only lived in two houses.

10. My chosen profession has rewarded me handsomely.

11. I was taught the difference between right and wrong so thoroughly by my parents, that bad behavior on my part is completely without excuse.

12. For all but a handful of my years on this earth I have enjoyed the company of a dog.

13. I have benefitted from a Christian faith that within the deepest level of my heart provides me with answers to the most vexing questions of life. 

14. Cajun food.

15. Hot rolls with butter.

16. Hot peach cobbler that has crunchy edges, with vanilla ice cream melting on top.

17. Christmas morning.

18. Baseball.

19. Maine

20. Hatteras Island.

21. Coffee.

22. The Beatles

23. Ludwig Von Beethoven.

24. The opportunity I had, through borrowed money, to get an education. It was the best investment I ever made.

25. The great influences on my kids' lives, Jeremy Welborn, Sherri Matthews, Deen Entsminger.

26. Great books.

27. Netflix.

I could list out many more, of course, but #10 is calling.

Inside Out.....a movie review

Pixar is a movie studio that specializes in crafting animated films that are advertised to lure in the kiddies but whose primary objective is to make their parents cry in public. Their latest offering, Inside Out continues this tradition and throws in guilt for no charge!

The film's opening line summarizes the plot nicely, "Have you ever wondered what's going on inside the head of an eleven year old girl?"  An unanimous "YES" rises up from every parent in the auditorium. For the next hour and a half Pixar shows us. Basically, our little Riley's brain headquarters is a factory of sorts filled with memories, short and long term memories that are stored in a giant colorful warehouse. These memories are divided into five personality islands, family, friendship, goofiness, honesty and hockey.  At the control panel of her consciousness are five competing emotions, brought to life as fuzzy, color coded little people with huge eyes and four fingers. There's Joy, whose sole mission in life is to keep all of the other emotions away from the controls and see to it that Riley is happy all day long. Then there's Fear, Anger and Disgust, all doing their bit at the appropriate time. Finally, there's the insufferably adorable and bespectacled Sadness, who is always ruining everything and generally making Joy's life difficult. It's all quite funny and very clever and for the most part great fun. When our little Riley is learning to skate on the pond out back in her Minnesota home, or rough housing with her parents as a toddler, it is a satisfying, escapist night out at the movies. But when Dad takes his start-up venture, along with his family out to San Francisco, everything changes. Eleven year old Riley must deal with everything from brochilli pizza, to having no furniture for a week because the moving van went to the wrong state, to being the new girl at school, all at once. Suddenly, Joy must make way to lots of Fear, Disgust, Anger, and especially Sadness. 

Let me here add a quibble or two I had with the premise of this fine film. First, if I didn't know better, this film would have me believe that our entire existence on this planet is governed exclusively by our emotions, patently untrue. Secondly, only five emotions? No Guilt,or Envy? How come Pride makes no appearance? But, whenever I catch myself taking issue with the finer points of psychology, I must remind myself...it's a movie and an animated one at that. It wasn't very long ago when these things were called cartoons, so chill out.

Riley has a rough go of it in San Francisco, and seriously, who wouldn't? Soon she becomes sullen, withdrawn, and for reasons that escape me, Joy and Sadness leave headquarters on some wild plot goose-chase that leaves Fear, Anger and Disgust in charge. Predictably, Riley is soon a hot mess. In a scene that I still cannot get out of my head, Riley is sitting at the dinner table being peppered with questions about her day by her well meaning parents. Meanwhile, back at head quarters, Anger grabs the controls. Dad presses the unresponsive Riley for an answer, telling her he doesn't much care for her tone and attitude. Inside of Dads brain, the emotions at his control panel are determined to get tough. "Put the foot down....THE FOOT IS DOWN! Repeat, THE FOOT IS DOWN!" Riley gives in to Anger, explodes in a rage and runs up the stairs to her furniture-less room.

It was at this point that I found myself reliving every failure I had as a Father, every moment when I lost my temper. The time I warned Kaitlin that if she didn't stop throwing a fit ( or merely crying, as her Mother would describe it later), I wouldn't let her go trick-or-treating. She didn't do either that night. I won the battle and lost the war. Or the time I flew into a rage at my crying child who had hurt my feelings by not wanting to leave the sitter. This scene allowed me to relive those failures through the eyes of a child who wasn't capable of articulating her feelings. It brought tears to my eyes.

By the time Joy and Sadness finally make it back to headquarters, Riley has bought a bus ticket back to Minnesota. This is where a beautiful truth of this film comes to life. We learn that life isn't always about joy and happiness, that in fact, sadness is also part of life, not something to be avoided at all cost. Through times of great sadness, others get the chance to come along side of us, to comfort us, to commiserate. We come out on the other side of sadness a better, more complete, more understanding person. We discover just how valuable our family and friends are to us, something we would never understand without those difficult moments.

So, Pixar did it again. You would have thought I would have learned my lesson with Toy Story. As the credits rolled, I was choked up, Pam was crying. 

Wonderful movie!