The Mouse Has Roared

The people have spoken, and it's going to take some real leadership in Washington to figure out exactly what the people have said. Mostly, I think, the people are fed up. All kinds of themes emerge from this disgruntlement: smaller government, less taxes, poor economy, government overreach, take back our nation. I'm depressed, but if I were Harry Reid, Mitch McConnell, or John Boehner, I'd be terrified. I don't think the government has overreached. I think our politicians have. The voters sent a message: change the way things are done in Washington. The conundrum is what do the voters want changed?

Our country is in for a lot of misery, two years of misery - maybe a lot more. The United States is in a different kind of recession, and businesses and people have lost confidence in the economy. This particularly hurts our consumer-driven economy, because people are saving more, spending less, and hunkering down for the long term. In short, personal responsibility is taking the economy to hell in a handbasket. For all the reasons that people voted in this election, this economic trend isn't going to change much in the short and medium term, not until the American people feel confident about their paychecks and their jobs.

Politicos are proposing solutions that aren't going to solve the economic crisis. Cutting taxes and reducing spending won't get the public to consume more. Instead, those two proposals will spread a lot more misery by removing an (already tattered) economic safety net from the very poor, and threaten programs meant to help the middle class. As for the government overreach charge, regardless of how voters feel about the bailout, it will be repaid to the Treasury, and the bailout did keep the finance system and the economy from collapsing entirely. Without government intervention, the calamity would have been a lot worse. I believe that cynical politicians know this, and that "government overreach" is a bogus argument that has confused voters.

Politicos want to repeal Obamacare. Beware. That really isn't what the voters want. When polled on various parts of the health insurance law, most voters agree with the provisions. But cynical politicians have twisted the law and scared the voters into thinking that the law will impose a socialistic dictatorship on America. Politicians sneer about "European-style healthcare." Irony is lost on our leaders. Most Europeans who are covered by a government-sponsored healthcare plan are really quite happy to have it. I'm much more frightened by our "American-style political discourse."

Rand Paul wants to take back America. He echoes many other newly-elected leaders on their way to Washington, DC. Who are these leaders taking America from? Is the level of discourse so polarized that those with whom we disagree are un-American? To the politicians who promise to take back America, I would offer this advice: look in the mirror. The American people want a responsive government. They want politicians who will work across party divides to find solutions. And the American voters will take back Capital Hill in 2012, if you don't make governing work. If that doesn't terrify you, you're already in trouble.

Memphis Barbeque

Okay, after that last whiny blog entry I should be ashamed of myself. Tonight, we took Mom to the Olive Garden to meet up with Ron's sister, Alex, and have dinner. Well, 6:30 on a Friday night in Southaven, Mississippi is the time when the natives all go Italian. The place was packed, and we were shunted off to a very smoky bar. I wasn't too keen to spend 45 minutes there to be seated for dinner.

Alex suggested that Ron and I go somewhere else to eat if we didn't want to wait for dinner, and that she and Mom would eat at the bar. After a few indecisive moments, Ron and I headed for the door, jumped in the bright red minivan, and headed down Airways Boulevard in the direction of Scooter's Barbeque.

We had seen Scooter's when we first got into town on Tuesday, but I didn't think that we'd actually have a chance to eat there. It's a very down-home unpretentious carryout/restaurant. The video was playing some great rockin' blues and the smell from the kitchen was 100% barbeque, a wonderful smoky aroma that let you know you were in the right place for some great food.

I'm a fan of pulled or chopped pork sandwiches. For dinner tonight, I had a chopped pork sandwhich with slaw, barbeque beans, potato salad, lemon cake, and iced tea. It set me back $4.95. The barbeque spoke to me with its vinegary smoky-sweet goodness. The meat was moist, tender, and most of all smoky, but not assertive or bitter. It is some of the best 'que I've ever eaten.

The sides were good country cooking, too. The beans were sweet, but not too, with chunks of barbequed pork. The potato salad would have made any of my aunts proud to say it was there own. The lemon cake was just the right way to end this memorable meal. Scooter's should be on your list of places to visit when you get tired of Graceland or the Orpheum. Head for Southaven, and the corner of Airways and Goodman.

Now the Real Work Begins

I'm listening to NPR thinking about yesterday's events. As Senator Feinstein said, it is a day that is "etched in the stone of history." President Obama told us that we were all in it together, and the real work begins.

We have put such a weight on our President's shoulders, and somehow we need to take some of that burden back. I want to get past my cynicism of the last 40 years and do exactly that. I need to believe that what I do will make an important difference, no matter how small that effort or difference may seem to me. 300,000,000 people each doing a small thing adds up to a very big thing. Small gestures add up to real substance. A dream, a thought, a purpose becomes real amplified through a personal commitment to change multiplied in the lives of millions of people.

I'm excited by the prospect of change. Scared that America's economy is going to get much worse before it gets better. Worried about the bad guys, foreign and domestic. Heartened by the change in national tone. Yes we can rebuild America one small act at a time. We'll get through this, too.

2009 Is Not So Bad

Other than I have a sinus infection and a strained ligament, not too bad at all. It could be much worse. I might be living in the Gaza Strip, for example, or shoveling snow in Moscow, Idaho. Indeed, a sinus infection and a gimp leg seem like small peanuts compared to the $6.9 trillion meltdown on Wall Street. The fallout wasn't quite so bad on Bucknell Terrace, only one foreclosure so far. Not bad, indeed.

And I'm not being snarky, either. Believe me, I'm grateful that I'm only dealing with the small things, and I hope the Big Things never get around to arriving in my neighborhood. But that's probably hoping for too much. The economic wrecking ball is in full swing, and one of these days it will land in Wheaton with a very unwelcome thud, probably atop a couple of chicken restaurants and several clothing boutiques that were just hanging on, and then... no credit, no customers, just the ugly wreckage of bankruptcy and unemployment. But for now, it's not so bad.

My hope for 2009 is that we can all hang on, somehow. Whatever we have to do, we'll do it, and hang on, and maybe 2009 won't be so bad after all. Check back here for updates....

Less Than a Week

2008 had so much promise a year ago. I was getting ready for a Caribbean trip, and I was planning on a family reunion in Yellowstone Park, and a trip to Portugal with my sister.

Along the way, my brother suffered a very serious illness, and my Mom a collapsed lung. My brother is making slow progress, and my Mom is on oxygen, but both of them are in good spirits and reasonably good health, considering. I talked with them on Christmas day, and they both sounded good.

Then there was the remarkable story of Barack Obama. I hardly knew anything about him last January. I'm looking forward to his Presidency, because I'm convinced we will see needed change in our society. His election was a defining achievement for our age. I never would have imagined a Black man being elected President. Maybe the promise of a color-blind society is not empty.

Oh, and the pot o' money suddenly got smaller. Where does all the money go? What a mess. When Grace and I were in Portugal, we were in the middle of Nowhere Portugal, and the Multibanco rejected our credit cards. Outa gas. Outa cash! It took a feverish visit with a bank officer to get the cash. Even though I didn't speak Portuguese, he clearly understood me. On the cruise, I heard whispers about the economy. But when we got home, the panic was on full bore, and has been ever since.

So I'm quietly hopeful, and holding onto my wallet as I head into 2010. I'm predicting:

• A head of state will become gravely ill and die in office.
• A famous actress will get a very public divorce.
• A little-known NASCAR driver will make a come-from-behind move and win the big race at a renown 500.
• A religious personality will make an important and thoughtful pronouncement concerning same-sex marriage.
• An American politician often in the spotlight will be involved in a sensational sex scandal.
• A major car company will go bankrupt.
• A "sleeper" film that nobody heard of will win an Oscar^®
• I will clean up the upstairs office.
• Barack Obama will become the next President of the United States.
• Happy and Lucky will have a fabulous year.

Come back next year and see which of these predictions come true. If you are 100% correct, well, you MAY or may not win a prize!

T'Was Too Daze Before Christmas

Yesterday, I was in the mall getting a haircut. The crowds were thin, and I think any merriment in evidence was simply putting a rosy glow on the coal that's being delivered this Christmas. This is a glum Christmas for merchants and shoppers, two days before Christmas.

I was listening a to a financial show on the radio. A listener called in and mentioned that she was paying off her credit card debt. One of the panelists said that she needed to be spending instead, that if we didn't all spend, we'd end up in even a deeper recession. So, let me think.... I should keep on accumulating credit card debt at a 22% interest rate; it's patriotic. I'm so confused!

This is a weird economic time. Lawmakers talk about regulation, but the horse has already left the barn. Consumers want relief, but don't want the consequences of declining equity value. It's a great time to buy into the stock market, but people are afraid to buy for fear of an even larger slide.

Christmas isn't so jolly. Shoppers and merchants are in a funk. St. Nick only needs four reindeer this year. Rudolph has been laid off, and the elves are trying to renegotiate their labor contract. No bailout or bridge loan for the North Pole unless Christmas proves its viability. Santa told me that he's trying to take the bah out of humbug, but it's a tall order this year.

Creepy, Scary

Today, we head down the road to Lost River, West Virginia for a pumpkin carving contest. I have some novel ideas. I've been thinking about how to architect successfully the facial structure of a Republican Presidential Candidate on the pumpkin, but that may be too daunting. Well, the beady eyes shouldn't be that difficult.

Of course, I'm listening to WAMU this morning, happily pledge free. I am so tired of hearing John McCain talk about Joe the Plumber. I guess, that John McCain in making Joe the heart of his campaign discloses his true colors: Joe's not a plumber, and Joe never had enough money to buy the business he talked about owning, and Joe doesn't have the intellectual capacity to understand that Barack Obama's economic plan would actually help Joe, and that John McCain's plan might actually harm Joe. But many Republicans don't seem capable of that kind of nuanced analysis.

Pardon the aside, I just get a little hot under the collar when I hear the lies and half-truths being spouted on the campaign trail. And I'm enough of a partisan to know that my primate belief system is just as selective and idiosyncratic as Joe the Plumber, and those Republicans out there. It's not anything personal. Some of my best friends are Republicans....

Well, back on topic. So I've been working on pumpkin designs. I think I have the floating iris inside the floating eyeball problem licked. I downloaded some pumpkin carving stencils, though, just in case I need a fallback. I also noticed that jack-o-lanterns generally don't have ears, which is a good thing, because ears aren't a real strong point, of mine. Neither are noses or mouths, but I'll fake it.

So, accomplishments this week: ManHunt failed me miserably. Three appointments, and no guys showed up. I blame it on my deodorant. I unloaded book shelves in the basement for the painters. They came, they painted. I reloaded the book shelves. The basement had a minor flood, but I managed to clean it up, and in the process discovered some old diaries from thirty-five years ago. I wonder if I have enough courage to read them. Now that's a very scary thought.

Perhaps, the most life-changing accomplishment of the week was buying a jar of Thai fish sauce (Golden Boy). I had some on my poached egg this morning. Mmmmm. I'm getting ready for my Thai shopping trip, and my first attempt at Pad Thai. I'm really excited about it. Of course, when you read the recipes, you begin to realize how many calories Thai food has. But that's why I go to the gym.

Stay tuned. I plan to take pictures of my artistic pumpkin sculpting.

The Last Day

Today is the last day of the WAMU Fall "Membership" Campaign. Tomorrow will be a happy day! More accurately, tomorrow will be a rainy, gray, wet day.

I'm not completely back in the groove. Of course, most of my dearest friends haven't even noticed that. But deep inside the recesses of my darkest self, I know. I REALLY know. I can tell that something is, somehow, different. Maybe it's the persistent post-nasal drip. Perhaps it's the odor emanating from my underarms whenever I raise my arms over my head to strike my just-do-me pose. Whatever, it has a dank, musty resonance that vibrates in my cranium, and anchors in my duodenum, then belches from orifices, unbidden eructations that scare the men in my life.

Actually, I think it's just the result of a mild sinus infection mixed with lots of well-intentioned fiber. I can't adequately express HOW HAPPY I am that the WAMU Fall "Membership" Campaign is in its very last day. These pledge weeks are always the most depressing, demoralizing weeks on radio, and as I pointed out in an earlier post, even if I did contribute this campaign, I'd still have to listen to the awful drivel about the needy nature of public radio for the rest of the campaign, anyway. It could drive the more unstable of us over the mental threshhold: I'm being cajoled to act, but nothing results from the action. That sounds like a recipe for mental illness, if I ever heard one. Public radio drives listeners insane!

What's even more irritating for me (and my bowels), is that I'm a habitual "user" of public radio. I'm hooked. I couldn't turn off WAMU if my life depended on it. Without that background noise, my life seems empty, without purpose. Unless I'm sleeping, of course. In fact, when I was on vacation in Europe, it was iffy the first several days whether I was going to make it or not, because I was in the mental doldrums from not having Rene Montaine and Steve Inskeep greet me every morning. And no Kojo was no mojo. I just couldn't get a grip on Madrid. Now, you might think it was the six-hour time difference, and the thirty-three hours without sleep, but the reality was, I couldn't get WAMU, and man, I really suffered for it. "Hello. My name is Happy Doodle, and I am a WAMUholic."

I caused the world financial crisis. Are you surpised about that fact? I'd been following the financial markets for weeks before I left for Europe. Four days after I leave, the markets tank. I felt bad about that, and because I couldn't listen to WAMU, I couldn't do anything to ameliorate the resulting ruinous free-fall spiral into doom. I tried, and if I'd been on my game in Wheaton, instead of being a playboy in Lisbon, well, world history would be different. Of that, I am supremely confident. You know, it's odd, too, that WAMU hasn't called me up for an interview about this. After all, Alan Greenspan gets coverage for making a mistake, but nobody from WAMU is knocking on my door! It's the last day. It really is the last day.

The financial markets will recover. This recession will end. Sarah Palin's speeches are mean, vicious, and ugly. She removed her lipstick.