A Day Off

By some touch of cosmic grace, I have two clients who live within 10 minutes of each other in Pawley's Island, South Carolina. Because of this happy fact, I get to schedule their annual reviews on the same day in March every year. This allows me the chance to spend a day or so down here afterwards at my partner's condo in Cherry Grove.

This is my view this morning. Lovely.

In past years, I have brought Pam with me. This year that didn't work out, so it's just me here today. Yesterday was a very long and stress-filled one. My first appointment was in my office in Richmond at 8:00am. I left the office at 9:10 and drove the five hours to the condo, ate some lunch, then got back in the car for the 45 minute drive to Pawleys. By the time the third appointment of the day was complete, it was 7:00pm, and I had another 45 minute drive back to the condo. I stopped at a grocery store, bought a frozen pizza and heated it up for dinner. It's been a while since I conducted three annual reviews and drove 410 miles in the same day.

So, today is a recovery day. There is nothing on the schedule except an hour of paperwork which I completed before breakfast. I plan on playing a round of golf, then taking an afternoon nap on the beach. Honestly, I can't imagine a better day.

Tomorrow morning, I'll head back home for my side hustle as a chauffeur. My wife bought her two sisters, her Mom, her daughter and her niece tickets to the Cinderella play for Christmas. It's a remake of the great Rodgers and Hammerstein version that ran on television way back in the day. Pam was smitten by this production as a girl and when she discovered that it was coming to town, she opened up her checkbook and began counting the days!! Well, since it will be six of them going, I had the bright idea that I would hire a limo to pick them all up and drive them up to the theatre in style. But when they gave me a quote of $475, I let go with a highly charged sarcasm-drenched rejoinder which I would prefer not repeating here. Plan B will involve yours truly getting dressed up and driving them to the show and picking them up afterwards. Not exactly a pumpkin carriage, but hopefully it will do.

Imagine a Day Without Women?

Being a leftist is hard work. It is nearly impossible to keep up with the list of causes that are constantly throwing them en masse into the streets. To the Progressive, America must seem like a gigantic Petri dish crawling with malignancies, all of which need to be exercised from the body politic...right now! From Black Lives Matter to white privilege, from ageism to homophobia, clear through to transphobia, from the rape culture, to saving the planet from global warming, to the evils of the patriarchy, it is the job of the modern leftist to raise our awareness or die trying. God bless their passion and relentless energy.

I try to imagine what would ever inspire an old Libertarian like me to take to the streets, and come up empty. When your number one political objective is being left the hell alone, the last thing you want to do is bring unwanted attention to yourself. But, this is America, which means everyone is free to get out there and demonstrate.

Yesterday was the International Day of the Woman, whereby the rest of us were asked to try and imagine a day without women. The purpose of the day, as best I can determine was to bring awareness to gender inequality in the workplace and elsewhere. Women were encouraged to stay home from work. Those who work at home were encouraged to refrain from doing the thousand things they normally do on a daily basis to keep households running smoothly. The rest of us, (men), were supposed to learn some deep, profound lesson from all of this. Facebook was filled with empowering encouragement. The media was saturated with stories of the day's events both here and throughout the world. Unfortunately, the nations most in need of some feminist education...Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan, et al, didn't participate in the day's activities, but...there's always next year.

Here's the thing. I can't even begin to imagine a world without women because such a place couldn't possibly exist. Well, maybe for about seventy years or so until all of the remaining men died off. What am I saying?? Without women, men would kill each other within five years, ten tops! But neither can I imagine a world without men. Such a concept is beyond my abilities. A world without both men and women is no world at all. Despite the 119 different genders that the sexual identity crowd have conjured up in their imaginations, everybody knows that there are only two with existential weight. Without any one of them, we are history. A world without women is a place that couldn't possibly exist and if it did, I would want no part of it.

I read somewhere that one of the issues behind the day was equal pay for equal work. In this, I am in complete accord with the organizers. How anyone could be against such a straight forward concept is beyond me. If my daughter, or my wife...or your daughter or wife applied for a job for which she was equally qualified, in a field in which she had equal experience, and proficiency, then she better damn sure be getting equally compensated with her male counterpart. Full stop. No excuses. Yet, time and time again we hear of organizations great and small which routinely pay women less than men....organizations like the Hillary Clinton campaign. It's complicated, I'm sure.

I was raised by a giant of a women, possessed of a brilliant mind, strong will and a highly refined sense of right and wrong, good and evil. I grew up with two older sisters who disabused me of any thoughts I might have nurtured about male superiority. My wife is my superior in almost every measurable human quality, equality being something to which I can only aspire. My daughter stands as a constant reminder to me of what the term professional excellence actually means. I have a family full of sharp, accomplished nieces who could mop the floor with most men I know. If it's true that equality starts at home, then I'm at least halfway there. But, I suppose it's the other half of me that insures the continued existence of things like...the International Day of the Woman

Ain't Nobody Repealing Nuthin'

There are probably an awful lot of Trump supporters out there who feel betrayed right about now. I'm talking about the ones who voted for him because he promised that he was going to repeal and replace Obamacare. With the unveiling of the Republican plan this morning, that fantasy has been put to rest. Ain't nobody repealing nuthin.To explain what happened, here's a quick tutorial:

1. The first law of thermodynamics states that energy can be transformed from one form to another, but cannot be created or destroyed.

2. The second law of thermodynamics states that there is a natural tendency of any isolated system to degenerate into a more disordered state.

Hardly anyone knows the 16th law of thermodynamics, but it is crucial to understanding what is happening or not happening to Obamacare. It states that...Whenever an entitlement program is enacted into law whereby a benefit is provided to X by confiscating money from Y, said entitlement program never dies. In other words...ain't nobody repealing nuthin.

People, it turns out, really like free stuff. People are fond of subsidies, even more so when someone proposes taking them away. Just listen to the caterwauling from people making a half million dollars a year whenever someone suggests doing away with the mortgage interest deduction. Do these people really need their fellow taxpayers to help them finance their McMansions? Once an entitlement, always an entitlement. You want to commit political suicide? Propose a serious social security reform that might actually save that actuarially doomed program, by suggesting that perhaps the payroll tax needs to be increased and maybe the benefits at some point might need to be means tested...then look for your obituary in the Washington Post. Ain't nobody repealing nuthin.

The very idea that Obamacare, once innacted could ever be taken away betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of both politics and human nature. Sure, it might get tinkered with around the edges, but once the concept of government subsidized anything takes root, good luck getting that genie back in the bottle.

Progress, and Beauty

Progress is great. It is the essence of what life is about. Improving. Getting better. I type this out on a thin, light weight miracle device unimaginable a generation ago. Soon, My wife will drive to work in an automobile with more computer power than the one that powered the first moon landing. Of course, not everything that marches under the banner of progress is, necessarily. But, for the most part, given a choice between a world of innovation and a world without it, I'm good with progress.

What got me to thinking about this was the oddest thing. A couple of days ago, I developed what has turned out to be a gigantic zit...on my middle finger, of all places. Stay with me now. Don't worry, there will be no pictures. This thing is huge and menacing, with the power to escalate the act of flipping someone the bird to the level of assault with a deadly weapon. I don't know what leprosy looks like, but it can't be any uglier than this baby. All of this has brought back memories of my acne-scarred youth...which got me to thinking about progress.

When I was growing up in the 60's, my parents didn't have much money. But we were no different than most of my friends. They didn't seem to have a lot either. As a result, there wasn't much money lying around for spending on stuff like orthodontia or dermatology. If you were born with crooked teeth or acne, well, that was just your lot in life. The recommended remedies were, "wash your face more", and "floss harder!"  The entire time I was growing up, I don't remember a single friend of mine getting braces. I had world class acne back in the day. It was brutal and left me with a pock marked face which my wife insists rendered me ruggedly handsome. But to those not blinded by love, a few have actually asked me why I don't have the scars worked on. Same goes with crooked teeth. "You know, they make these clear braces now...for adults!"

When my kids came along, at the first sign of acne or crooked teeth, an appointment was made with a wildly overpriced dermatologist, a session was scheduled with the orthodontist with the colorful mural in the gigantic waiting room. A second thought was not even entertained about the cost. Don't get me wrong, I don't regret doing this, and I'm sure my kids are grateful. But it leaves me with a few nagging questions.

Yesterday at church the pastor made a statement about how over the last fifty years or so people have become much less concerned about their souls than their bodies. It's hard to deny. Just look at the amount of money we spend on doing away with even the smallest flaw in our appearance. We spend billions annually on tummy tucks, face lifts, butt lifts, breast implants, hair implants, braces, eye jobs, nose jobs, gym memberships, steroid regimens, diets, makeovers of every description. We all are chasing that perfect look...for a body that is in the process of dying and ultimately will return to the dust. Is this progress? Does becoming prettier make us better? Well, if statistics are to be believed, it may make us more hireable, and more likely to advance at work, such is the shallowness to which we have descended. But, does it make us better people?

I don't begrudge anyone trying to be their best. But, I would rather live in a world with compassionate, generous, and big-hearted people who might be a bit overweight, acne-scarred, with a few extra lines on their faces, than a world with perfectly sculpted Barbee and Ken dolls constantly checking themselves out in the mirror.

The old saying goes...beauty is only skin deep. Discarding that truth isn't progress. 

Hacksaw Ridge and Fences...a two movie weekend

I generally try to watch the Oscar nominated movies every year. Not all of them, but most. Don't intend to see La La Land, for example and think I'll pass on Moonlight. But the past couple of nights I've seen Hacksaw Ridge and Fences.

Pam sat on the sofa next to me, prepared to read an e-book while Hacksaw Ridge played. She cannot abide blood and gore, especially the brutal variety that comes with war movies. Since Mel Gibson was directing, she was probably expecting a cross between Braveheart and Saving Private Ryan. But, to her great surprise, she found herself caught up in the story of Desmond Doss, the first conscientious objector to be awarded the Medal of Honor. Sure, she covered her eyes during the battle scenes with her blanket, but she was blown away by the other-worldly heroism, the transformative power of conviction and its ability to enfuse a man with supernatural endurance and bravery. What Desmond Doss accomplished at Okinawa, surviving the hellish landscape of total war savagery, without a weapon, while rescuing 75 men to safety is the sort of thing one still can't quite believe, even after watching him do it. While Gipson's obsession with exploding body parts and blood-squirting arteries was a little over the top, this film wasn't about patriotism, or the glory of war, or any of that. This story was about a conviction and courage that survived the worst that mankind is capable of.

I love Denzel Washington. Always have. I think he's probably the best American actor around today. I'm often disappointed in his choices, however. He's capable of so much more than Flight, The Equalizer, and the laughable Equalizer II. So when I heard all the buzz about Fences, I couldn't resist. Unfortunately, this was one of those pictures that had no business being a movie in the first place. It was written for the stage, and didn't transfer well. If you like nearly two and half hours of boisterous, shouted dialogue and lengthy speechifying, 80% of which takes place in the dump of a back yard of a row house in Pittsburg...then you're gonna LOVE this movie. Although Denzel and Viola Davis were fine in the lead roles, their performances seemed overwrought, overacted, over the top. Does everything have to be shouted? Do stories about the African-American experience contain no subtlety? Does every raw emotion have to be vomited up before us? Can nothing be suggested? As I watched this movie, I kept feeling like the playwrite was channeling Shakespeare, what with Troy's incessant conversations with death, and his King Lear-like estrangement from his children. But, in the end, I just couldn't conjure up any sympathy for Troy. He seemed nothing more than a bitter old tyrant. Maybe if I were African-American myself, it would have resonated more. Or maybe, Fences should have stayed a play...

Trump's State of the Union Speech

Although I mentioned the President's State of the Union speech in passing the other day when I broke my political silence, I didn't give an opinion on it. So, since it's the weekend and I am recovering from a persistent headache, I find myself in the perfect mood to do so.

Most people gave the President good marks for his speech. I was braced for boorish buffoonery, tortured logic and syntax, with a dash of demogoguery. So, when he actually gave a reasonably decent speech, I was relieved. The only line I can remember was the best line of the speech: "My job is not to represent the world, my job is to represent the United States of America." Its about dang time an American President had the stones to say this. Take your Globalist one-world government and stick it...in a safe place.

But, just because he gave a perfectly presidential speech doesn't mean I liked it on the substance. The primary takeaway for me was this simple truth...the Era of Limited Government (which hasn't actually been a thing in nearly a hundred years) is clearly over, and now with Trump, even lip service to it is over. This speech could have been given by any big-spending Democrat in America over the past fifty years. You want an infrastructure spending program? Check. You want your brand new entitlement program of child care? Check. You want a protectionist trade policy? Check.

Somebody once described the American Man as the European Man left alone. No longer true. We are now as completely ruled and regulated as any man from Finland to France. And it will only get worse. Especially now that the party of small government has been taken over by a world class Statist like Donald Trump. Yes, I'm aware of his promises to reduce the regulatory burdens in America, and I am aware that he promises a wave of tax cuts. But, it's very hard for me to believe that he can or even wants to deliver on either of these promises. My gut instinct is that for every regulation he dismantles, a new one will appear. I also fail to see how you can cut taxes while at the same time creating new entitlements and presiding over a trillion dollars of infrastructure spending. And yes, he did mention his desire to actually cut some government budgets, real cuts, not some voodoo baseline budgeting gimmickry sleight of hand. But, then he admits that the goal of these cuts is to free up 54 trillion for increased military spending. That's where he lost me...sigh....

I realize that I am a weirdo on this subject, and my views on government and it's proper function died out over a hundred years ago, but, if you're serious about debt and the financial health of this nation, everything needs to be cut, including the military. If you're the type of person who believes that spending  nearly $600 billion on the military in 2015 was woefully inadequate...then, there's nothing I can say to help you.

So, I watched the speech for a while at least. After thirty minutes it became boiler plate and I tuned out with a heavy sigh. Activist, intrusive, ever-expanding, liberty-encroaching, centralized planning, power-grabbing government is here to stay and more robust than ever. We all better get used to it.

The Sultan of Suck

The Dunnevant family in Short Pump has done its part to boost the economy, what with our recent  automobile purchase. Well, now we have added another big ticket item, and this one was for me!

Yes, sports fans, you are looking live at the brand new Dyson Ball Animal. This baby is the Lamborghini of vacuum cleaners, the cutting edge of floor cleaning technology, the Sultan of Suck. Our old Dyson finally bit the dust, so naturally, I had to have the best. This new model is over the top, billing itself as the "most powerful" sucking machine since the 1962 Mets. I've only used it in one room so far, just a quick test drive around the den. Good Lord Almighty!! What a machine!

Ok, I'm the official vacuumer around here, and truth be told...I've always kind of enjoyed it. It's hard to explain really. I just like the feel of it, the clean lines it makes on the carpet, the sound of the thing. When you've owned a Golden Retriever for nearly thirty years it's a big deal, vacuuming. It has to be done all the time. And, it turns out, I'm pretty good at it. In a house our size it's also a workout.

So today, after work I'm going to put this thing through it's paces, a whole house tour. Lucy has taken an intense dislike to The Animal, sensing menace. In fairness, she never was a big fan of our old Dyson, always retreating into another room whenever it was deployed. But, when I took this thing out of the box, she actually let out a small growl from her perch on the sofa in the next room. "What new , fresh terror is this monstrosity my human has brought into my home??" I could feel the animosity from thirty feet away. I reassured her..."Don't worry Lucy, it's just a vacuum cleaner. If you didn't shead so much we wouldn't need this beast!" Once again she sniffed the air and let out an aggrieved sigh..."Sure, blame the dog. Perfect!"