So Geeked!!!

Huge day yesterday. Almost finished my Christmas shopping, and booked a cabin for our Maine 2017 adventure. To celebrate, Pam made homemade clam chowder for dinner. While I am getting excited about Christmas, words simply cannot express how geeked out I am about Maine.

Our first extended Maine vacation was last year on Hobbs Pond. Four weeks. We had never stayed more than ten days before. It was fabulous, so much so that we decided that we would go the extended route forevermore. This year it will be only three weeks because 2017 is also the year of the Dunnevant/Roop/Schwartz biennial beach week at the Outer Banks and. . . well, I have to work at some point.

The place we chose is called Loon Landing. It sits at the water's edge of a lake we haven't visited yet called Quantabacook. It's about 20-25 minutes from Camden, so a bit further inland. Since this year we won't be having the kids joining us, we didn't need such a big house. This one has room for six, but is much smaller. The cool thing though is the fact that the main house by the lake (the deck is five steps from the water), is where the master bedroom is, while the guest rooms are in a guest cottage about 100 feet behind. Lucy is going to love this place since it features a ten foot wide sandy beach, a rarity in Maine, which provides easy walk-in access to the water. Although, knowing her, she will probably insist on running down the dock and jumping in since that's way more fun!

Once we picked out Loon Landing, it took us an hour to decide between two options for when! It would have to be either June 9-30 or September 8-29. This is where my wife's amazing eye for detail made an appearance. Somehow she found some site that published the daily temperatures of the area for every single day for the past three years. Immediately, she started spreadsheeted the thing in her head:

Pam: Ok, in 2015 for the three weeks in question, for the June option there were 14 days in the 70's in June and only 13 in September. In 2016, those numbers were flipped. However, the low temperatures for June were a bit lower than for September. As far as rain is concerned....

This went on for quite a while as I stared at her, mouth agape in wonderment. Ultimately, we chose the September option. It won't be as crowded, and if it's been a hot summer and it's a cool September in Maine, maybe we will be tired of the heat and won't mind it so much. On the other hand, there was a day last year in September where the fine folks in Camden, Maine were treated to a rare day in the 90's. So, it's a crapshoot.

I am already anticipating a potential problem. The first week in October at Loon Landing is wide open. . .

The Right Stuff

I was only four years old when he became famous by orbiting the Earth in Friendship 7. I remember nothing about it. But later in elementary school, I would learn about John Glenn courtesy of a Weekly Reader article. Along with millions of my fellow grade schoolers, I became obsessed with this hero and determined that I wanted to be an astronaut when I grew up. Eventually my desire for a career of space travel waned, but my admiration of John Glenn remained. Yesterday came word that the great man had passed away at age 95.

When I was in college, I was introduced to someone who would become one of my favorite writers, Tom Wolfe, by his great novel, The Right Stuff. I read the thing twice. There he was again, front and center. . .John Glenn, hero. He ran for President in 1984. It didn't work out. Accomplished, gallant, heroic, intelligent John Glenn, Marine Fighter pilot in WWII and Korea with 59 combat missions to his credit, insanely brave test pilot, first American to orbit the planet and only then becoming a U.S. Senator, lost to Walter Mondale, a waxy career politician with a history of accomplishing absolutely nothing, proving that politics doesn't reward virtue.

John Glenn was a throwback to what the founders imagined public servants would be. After a life of accomplishment, uncommon valor, and character proven by the crucible of life, a man(or woman) would then proceed to dedicate the last chapters of their lives to serving the republic by going to Washington to bring their proven talents to bear solving the nation's problems. No longer. Now, the preferred path seems to be, go to law school, get a job working as an aid for some congressman for a couple of years, then maybe take a couple more years hacking for some lobbyist so you can check the private sector box off the old resume, then cash in your chips with the party by running for Congress, all before your 35th birthday. The Wrong Stuff.

A few years ago I read a biography of the greatest hitter who ever lived, Ted Williams.  The Splendid Splinter didn't come off well. Although a gifted athlete, Williams was a classic jerk. Even though I knew this about him, it was still disappointing to have it confirmed. But, in the book I learned that when Williams was flying combat missions in Korea, he served as the wing man for. . . John Glenn.

From the time I was a 5th grader until yesterday, John Glenn has never disappointed.

A President Who Tweets

I haven't had much to say of late about politics in general or Trump in particular. It's not because nothing of interest has happened but rather because I'm not sure what to say. How does one respond to a President-Elect who tweets? The whole scene right now is in many ways incomprehensible to me, there being no precedent for it. Can you imagine what would have happened if Franklin Roosevelt had Twitter??..."I will crush the Imperial Navy of Japan and repay the yellow, shanty-eyed nips for this dastardly attack on Pearl Harbor, this I can promise you. Sad."

Although our soon to be President has done plenty that I disagree with, and even more that baffles me, he has done one thing that I LOVED. When he tweeted out his public shaming of Boeing for the cost overruns on Air Force One, I was jubilant. Let me explain.

Now, I am fully aware that whenever His Orangeness spouts numbers, one always has to take it with a pound of salt, and maybe in this case he didn't have all the facts. Stunned, I know! However, I cannot possible describe for you the visceral joy it brought me to hear somebody, anybody in Washington finally actually LOOK AT A BILL AND QUESTION IT!!!!!! When the government buys anything, it always ends up costing ten times what the projections were. It's like inefficiency and incompetence are baked into the cake. (See: $30,000 toilets, Pentagon). Say what you will about Trump, but the man has a knack for bringing huge complicated projects in on time and under budget, (It helps when your bribe and favor currying budget is large and liquid). Still, if this guy finally puts an end to the bloated, featherbedding, bill padding ripoff that is government contracting, he will have done this republic a huge favor and we will be forever in his debt.

Of course, that assumes we still have a republic by the time he's through. . .but that's a subject for another day. But, for me, the Boeing tweet has been the high water mark of his bizarre first month as President-Elect, with the selection of Mad Dog Mattis as Secretary of Defense a close second. Literally everything else has been a cross between The Twilight Zone and Celebrity Apprentice.

Its a Wonderful Life. . .a review.

Watched It's a Wonderful Life for the fiftieth time last night after a day of tree decorating. Just a few random observations about this classic film:

1. Early on life wasn't so wonderful for twelve year old George Bailey as we see him working for the local pharmacist (hello child labor!), and getting slapped around by his drunk boss (assault and battery).

2. On the bright side, how tough could life have been for a kid growing up in a town that had such an awesome frozen pond to slide around on with a shovel for a sled??

3. How great was Lionel Barrymore as Potter? Best line? After George gives that passionate defense of the Building and Loan and its role as lender of last resort of the lower classes to the board of directors, Barrymore bellows, "Sentimental hogwash!!!"

4. This is the sort of film that all the smart kids in your film studies class hated. I can just hear some patchy bearded guy wearing a beret and sporting a Che Guevara t-shirt opining,"This film was a disaster for the ethos of urban life what with the horrible precedent set by Bailey Park!! Besides, Pottersville was a far more diverse and culturally interesting place!"

5. When Donna Reed, wearing only a bath robe with the moonlight shining on her face is asked by George Bailey how old she is. . .who on earth believes that she is 18??

6. Everytime I watch this movie I wait for it, the epic tight shot of George and Mary sharing the telephone as they talk with Sam Wainright from New York. He's trying to get George in on the ground floor of plastics, but no one can take their eyes off of George and Mary actually falling in love before our eyes. I'm not sure Hollywood has ever produced a sexier, more evocative scene before or since.

7. Favorite line of the film for me comes after the suicide attempt at the bridge when they are drying out around the wood stove. Clarence reminds George that they don't have any need for money in heaven. George deadpans, "Yeah? Well, it comes in pretty handy down here!"

But, as wonderful and enjoyable as this picture is, once again, I wasn't around for the credits. First of all, I know how it ends but mostly, Frank Capra needed a better editor. Way. Too. Long. Pam asked a rhetorical question as we watched, "I wonder why nobody has ever made a remake of this movie?"  The answer is, people from Hollywood today much prefer Pottersville to Bedford Falls. So, if any big shot producers from tinsel town ever happen to stumble onto this blog. . .PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE don't remake this film!!!!!!

My Assistant

Long time readers know of my unfortunate past history of making people cry over the telephone. As I have matured over the years I have shown great improvement in this area. It's actually been years since some home office service flunky has provoked me into a sharp-tongued, sarcasm filled rage, I'm proud to say. With age has come some measure of restraint. Not so with my highly skilled, no nonsense administrative assistant, whose name I will withhold, (but her initials are Kristin Reihl).

Yesterday it was time to place my yearly order with Harry and David. I send out thank you gifts to my best and most loyal clients, and also a few family members. I turned over this always frustrating job to Kristin because that's essentially what I do...anything unpleasant winds up on her desk. Why she continues to stay in my employ is a mystery. Anyway, I walked into her office while she was thirty minutes in to this task and she had already dispatched two female incompetents, and was now mixing it up with a male manager. He was getting both barrels:

Kristin: You're not giving me an answer, I need an answer! Why, if It says free freaking shipping are you charging me $10.34 for shipping? What about my problem do you not understand??

I slowly backed out of her office supremely grateful that I don't work at Harry and David. Thirty minutes later I cautiously returned when I saw that she was no longer on the phone. Her back was to me but she somehow sensed that I had entered:

Kristin: Do not say anything to me right now or I will say something mean to you!

Once again, I backed away. Kristin is a redhead. You know what they say about redheads. . .when they warn you that they might be mean to you, they're not messing around. I scampered back to my office. Ultimately, the order was placed sans the offending shipping charges. No doubt, several service employees with barely understandable accents were in tears at Harry and David headquarters. Kristin had still not calmed down completely..."It was like talking to complete idiots!!"

So, a few minutes after she left, I also headed to the parking lot to leave. She always parks right beside my car. This is what I found:

Yep. This is her briefcase containing her laptop computer and other valuables sitting innocently on the pavement. I took a picture and texted it to her with this carefully worded comment: " Hey sunshine, forget something?" Luckily, she hadn't driven all the way home but had stopped at Trader 

Joe's. Of course, all was well. . . But now I had a very valuable photograph and an embarrassing story to tell at her expense. I then told her a bald face lie: " I promise not to put this picture on Facebook and I probably won't write a blog about it."

The Carrier Deal

Let me begin this blogpost with an apology to any of you who hate economics. I do too, actually. But, every once in a while something happens which forces me, kicking and screaming, to examine the murky world of tax and spending policy, subjects about which I am certainly no expert. So, much of what follows may sound contradictory. Welcome to the counter intuitive Fun House ride at the Washington DC fair!

The big story yesterday was Trump "saving 1000 jobs" at an Indiana Carrier factory, jobs that had been slated for outsourcing to Mexico. There was the President-Elect standing in front of jubilant Carrier employees, already making good on campaign promises, fifty full days before taking office. Details of the deal he made with Carrier were not released, but tax relief of some kind was offered to the company as an inducement to keep the jobs stateside, no doubt. Thus began a firestorm of thoughts and feelings inside my head. First, it's almost impossible not to be happy for the men and women whose jobs got saved. Imagine how terrible it would be to be entering the Christmas season knowing that you were headed for the unemployment line in January? So, lots of happy thoughts. But then I start thinking about...the deal. Reports were that tax incentives worth nearly $800 per job were given to Carrier. Here's where the murky starts.

Our nation has both a unbalanced budget problem and a national debt problem. That means that the $800 in taxes per saved job not paid by Carrier will either have to be paid for by someone else or will simply make both of the aforementioned problems worse. The someone else in my last sentence might end up being Carrier's competitors like Trane, York, or Bryant. I wonder how those three companies felt hearing the news that their number one competitor just got wheelbarrow's full of cash from the government? I suppose the lost revenue from this deal could be made up by simply cutting spending by the exact amount of the lost revenue...but who am I kidding? That conservatives would be hailing this as some sort of victory for America is odd since what it looks like to me is government putting its awkward thumb on the scales, the very definition of crony capitalism. Many of the same conservatives gleeful over this deal were furious when Obama did the same thing for Solyndra. Granted, Carrier is a profitable company which makes stuff people actually want to buy, whereas Solyndra did neither, but the principle is the same.

Soon another head scratcher will come to pass. When Trump announces his infrastructure stimulus plan, I assume that conservative Republicans will approve the plan no matter how much new debt it piles on top of the 20 trillion we already have. Suddenly, government spending money it first has to borrow will be ok again. My son will once again ask me why the national debt is such an awful thing since, "nobody on either side is talking about it." And I will be left with nothing to say except, at some point 20 trillion dollars in debt has to be serviced and you keep adding to it and one day it's going to wipe you out. To which, big government types counter with, "Oh yeah???" as they crank up the money printing machine at Treasury.

It's not that I want jobs to go to Mexico or anyplace else for that matter. But how is it a good thing to bribe someone to do something with money you don't have? And where does the bribing stop? If you decide as a country to erect barriers to the free flow of capital, you ultimately wind up with...Cuba, right?

But, what do I know?

I Hate Banks

I hate banks. I haven't always hated banks. They used to be almost exciting places to visit. When I was a kid, I remember how awesome it felt to take my very first paycheck to the F&M bank in Ashland to make a deposit. I felt like such a big shot. I think the teller even gave me a lollipop. But now, although they still hand out lollipops, it's just not the same.

I am part of the problem since I am every banker's dream. . .the ultimate loyal customer who takes whatever they decide to dish out because the prospect of switching banks is so daunting, I don't dare even consider the prospect. When I first got married, I opened up my first grown-up account at Central Fidelity Bank, largely because they had a branch right down the street, and I didn't live in Ashland any longer. For ten years or so, Central Fidelity was perfectly fine. Then suddenly, for no discernible reason, my perfectly fine bank was purchased by a high roller outfit out of Charlotte, Wachovia. The transition was annoying but uneventful, and the new boss was promising the very, very best in modern banking technology. Before too long I discovered what this meant...monthly service fees. When I protested, they offered me a chance to do away with annoying fees forever if I signed up for a bank issued credit card. I did. For several years this worked well, then I discovered that in banking the word forever has a highly ambiguous, nuanced meaning. You see, my checking account fees got replaced by a raft of mysteriously appearing credit card fees. About the time I had had quite enough of this shell game, Wachovia started settling a series of Federal investigations into their activities. . . everything from cashing a ton of unsigned checks to serving as the number one launderer of Mexican drug cartel money! Then the financial crisis of 2008 brought them to the edge of insolvency. One minute my bank is the fourth largest in the country, the next minute they get bought/bailed out by Wells Fargo. Not the sort of thing that inspires confidence.

So, that's how I wound up with the stagecoach guys. At first, all was well. The employees at my branch of choice were friendly and helpful. I eventually refinanced my mortgage with them, and opened a line of credit. My kids opened their accounts with them. My business checking account is with them. Sure, I read the papers, I'm aware of the recent controversies regarding shady dealings and the huge settlement with the government. But hey, if I bailed every time my bank got into trouble, I would be on my twentieth bank by now. No, no. . .I'm loyal.

How do they repay me? A while back I noticed a service fee pop up on my business account. This account serves as a holding company basically, a place where I have random paychecks directly deposited so I can pay business related bills via bill pay, their automatic service. It's the most boring account I have. Not much happens there. I might actually write three or four checks a month. The average balance usually hangs in the low four figures. So, why on earth were they hitting me up for $14???? The friendly and helpful banker explained to me that there wasn't enough activity in the account. Incredulous, I looked her in the eye and with as much restraint as I could summon replied, "So, wouldn't that lack of activity mean that your bank had less to do to service the account? Why is this a bad thing?"

I know what you are all thinking. Why don't you close all of your accounts and find a better bank? Simple, when I add up all the automatic deposits, the fixed bill paying strategies I have employed at my bank, to unwind all of that financial architecture would be a headache which would require a name more menacing than migraine. My bank knows this full well. So, they exact their $14 pound of flesh from me every month. The bastards.

Maybe one day I'll snap. Some dim bulb at the home office will come up with a new fee for, I don't know, walking inside and using a teller, and I will flip out and in a fit of rage rip every dime from their greedy grasp. Then the problem will be finding a fair dealing bank to do business with, one that I don't have to drive halfway across town to.

Grrrrrrrrr......