Liar of the year

It was a highly competitive race this year, but in the end the clear winner was Goldman Sachs CEO Lloyd Blankfein for the scale of the lie in his assertion to the Times of London that “we’re doing God’s work here at Goldman.” I mean there are plenty of liars out there, but to make a claim like this one when you’re paying yourself $68 million (2007) while taking billions in taxpayers’ money and invoking the Almighty as your reference point…well, how do you top that?

Closer to the truth would be Matt Taibbi’s decription in Rolling Stone: “The world's most powerful investment bank is a great vampire squid wrapped around the face of humanity, relentlessly jamming its blood funnel into anything that smells like money.”

Secretary of Homeland Security Janet Napolitano made a strong late run when she claimed this week that “the system worked” in reference to the recent attempted fire bombing of a Detroit-bound jetliner.

It’s quite a system we have in place. The guy’s father drops the dime on him to the American embassy, the British had already barred him from entering their country, he bought a ticket with cash and checked no luggage, but that wasn’t enough to raise any red flags. I once got stripped searched because I had a outbound airplane ticket from New York to San Francisco but the return ticket was LA-NY. Apparently this was highly suspicious.

This leads me to ask, how in the world did they talk this kid into this mission? I understand suicide bombers. You put on the vest, you push the button, and you are vaporized in a millisecond. How bad could it hurt? And the next thing you know you are frolicking with your 72 virgins.

But this guy had to pack a half pound of napalm around his package, use a hypodermic needle to inject the napalm with acid, and then light it with a match. If all had gone well he’d have gone up in flames that eventually would have burned a hole in the plane. There were bound to have been a few minutes of discomfort involved if all had gone according to plan. (Plus then, what can you do with the virgins?) The New York Post captured it perfectly on today's front page with this headline: Great Balls of Fire!

That had to have been a tough sell. I’d like to see the video of the pitch. Whoever delivered it must have made Alec Baldwin’s character in Glengarry Glen Ross look like Willie Loman on a bad day.

Christmas in New York

I’d had a late lunch with an old friend the other day near 20th and Park Avenue South. My pal went back to his office while I finished the last drops of my Malbec at the bar of the Middle Eastern restaurant where we’d eaten. It was nearly 4:00. There was a Christmas party starting at 5:30 I that wanted to visit, but it was at 56th and Broadway – either a $25 cab ride that would be a long frustrating crawl through the densest of New York traffic, or a three-train subway ride with transfers at both Grand Central and Times Square. For me, a Hobson’s choice.

Or I could just jump on the #6 to Grand Central and easily catch the 4:23 home. My pleasant wine buzz would just be wearing off as we pulled into Yonkers. I could soon pour another and put the telly on ESPN in time for PTI; quite a pleasant evening for a retiree.

But I hate to miss a party. I had plenty of time so I began the underground trek to the west side. The first stop was Grand Central, which was at peak rush hour frenzy, and coming up to the main level from the Lex line was pure chaos – but with a sound track. Tucked between the up and downtown stairways was a 10-piece band -- five horns, two guitars, bass, drum and a singer – playing the old “Chicago” tune, “25 or 6 to 4”. There were commuters and tourists three and four deep with video cameras in every other hand. The singer seemed to be the leader of this half Asian/half African American ensemble, and he was holding his mic with one hand while selling CDs with the other – and briskly I might add. They were good.

I moved on to the Times Square shuttle, a longish walk to a special platform, passing on the way a stocky, 20-something, white man angrily shouting his devotion to the gospel of Jesus Christ.

And then what to my wondrous eyes did appear? Delta Dave Williams, a 40-something black man in a wheelchair playing acoustic (but amped) guitar and harmonica, with which he was pumping out real Delta blues, enhanced by the natural echo chamber of the grand arched and tiled ceilings under Grand Central. The shuttles come and go frequently which keeps the crowds moving just as quickly, but was not conducive to building the kind of audience the big band had. But that meant a good vantage point for me and I was happy standing there. For a moment I was back in Clarksdale.

“Excuse me sir.” Those words usually make me turn and walk the other way, but I looked up and saw a pair of shy, 15-year-old eyes meet mine. “Would you be willing to be interviewed for our student movie about the music in the subways?”

I couldn’t say no. She walked me over to a quieter spot to meet her crew. Two 15-year-old boys, one big and pudgy the other so small he looked more like 12. They were the classic, Hispanic version of AV clubbers. The larger one operated a tiny video camera while his smaller friend held the microphone. The young Miss, probably the only girl these boys talk to most days, will be a beauty when she loses her braces and reaches her 20’s. She served as the subway Katie Couric.

“Do you like this music?”

“It’s my favorite kind of music.”

“Does it make you feel happy?”

“It makes me feel contemplative.”

“Thanks for stopping. We might get in the Tribeca Festival so watch for us.”

I left some tribute for Delta Dave before getting on my train. The ride to Times Square featured a guy soliciting donations for his business – something he called “a Homeless Welcome Wagon,” a wheeled basket in which he carried a variety of goods he claimed to offer free of charge to other homeless people in the city: blankets, socks, bottles of water and such. I wasn’t close enough to get a good look, but his rap was pretty good.

On the #1 platform at Times Square I stood next to a tall young black man who was well-dressed and completely normal looking, and acting, except for the half-inch thick, pure white makeup that vertically covered one half of his face. We didn’t chat.

I surfaced at Columbus Circle, weaving my way through the Christmas market at the entrance to Central Park and down Broadway. Lounging under some scaffolding I passed an old man who looked like Santa, if Santa had been wearing the same clothes and sleeping in the streets for a year or so. There were no signs of fur trim left on his suit, and his hair and beard were mud gray rather than white. He had a collection plate at his feet and a hand-lettered sign around his neck: “I’m fine. Pray for Tiger Woods.”

As I passed him heading downtown, his twin brother was coming uptown wearing large felt reindeer antlers, pushing a shopping cart filled with random Evergreen trimmings.

It’s Christmas in New York.

Kabuki Kongriss

If the theater is where we go to pretend, then surely there is no more delusional stage than our Kabuki Kongriss. Last week the House passed a new financial regulation bill. The Democrats are pretending that it is actually meaningful reform. The Republicans (100% of whom voted against it) are pretending that they were saving America from bureaucratic strangulation. Both parties are pretending that the financial services industry didn’t really give members of Congress $344 million in the first nine months of 2009. That is an annualized average take of a little over $857,000 per member of the House and Senate. But of course this had no bearing on anyone’s role in either writing a toothless joke of a reform bill, or on voting against it to prove what a macho conservative one is.

But no worries; the Senate now gets to remove whatever meaningful provisions the bill contains before sending it back to the House. If the Senate can drag its feet long enough they may be able to get the financial lobbies to throw in an extra $100 mil or so.
Next up: pretend health care reform.

In other Congressional action, the Senate also began an investigation into the collegiate football playoff system. According to Jimmy Fallon, “In a related note, the NCAA has begun to explore options for getting out of Afghanistan.”

Joke of the Week: What is the difference between Santa Claus and Tiger Woods? Santa usually stops after three ho’s.

According to Gary Trudeau, “Twitter is the first rough draft of gossip.”

Finally, thank you all so much for your support of my new cowbell career. Who knew so many of you were into cowbelliana? The inside bell technique described by McRik was simply my attempt to recreate the sound that I hear inside my own head whenever I hear Joe Lieberman attempt to explain how he reached a particular political position.

One thing all the books tell you is that you need to have goals in order to have a happy and successful retirement, and I confess that I’ve been struggling in this regard. However, I am delighted to announce today that in January I will be enrolling in “The Bruce Dickenson Cowbell Academy,” located in beautiful Punta Mantua, Florida. It is now my dream to one day perform the cowbell trifecta of (Don’t) Fear the Reaper, Mississippi Queen and Time Has Come Today at Carnegie Hall -- accompanied by the Prowlers, of course.

The social season is really heating up now. I’m not sure when I’ll be back so let me wish you Happy Holidays now in case I fall off the map in an egg nog stupor. Going to Babbo tonight with Buzzard and a couple of hot ladies. Can’t wait to get on the outside of some BBQ sweetbreads.

More cowbell

How much more excitement can retirement offer than last night? It’s hard to imagine. I met McRik, BD, Richie, Marshall, Johnnie and Eddie - the Prowlers - at the upstairs bar at City Crab. We threw done a few oysters and a couple see-throughs before heading over to the Techline Basement Lounge where the band store their gear and hold their weekly practice sessions.

I love basement acoustics and Techline was sounding pure as the band tore through The Ballad of John and Yoko, Pretty Woman, Messin’ Around, and Makes No Difference. Then it was a couple of originals: Strange Love (I had her photograph - I had to tear it in half) and Prisoner of Love (a Prowler “greatest hit”).

Somewhere around this point in the evening McRik gave me the cowbell, a well-worn stick and a mandate to have at it. From there it was a joyous ride down sensory lane via What Does It Take, Wild Nights, Walkin’ the Dog, Live Forever, Tequila, and a big finish with I Don’t Need No Doctor.

It was a tight, twelve-number set. The first half was just a little weak for want of adequate cowbell, but we built to a strong finish. Tequila was my favorite as there was a cowbell solo. I am now lobbying to have (Don’t Fear) the Reaper added to their repertoire, as it is, of course, the sin qua non of cowbell-driven rock. The Prowlers will be at the Ace of Clubs on Great Jones Street in the Village on Saturday January 23rd. I will be back in Florida by then – not sure who will be on cowbell.

The absurdity of Afghanistan

According to the administration, we are staying in Afghanistan in order to protect the population from violence, establish a non-corrupt and functioning government, build a working infrastructure, provide a functioning education system, eliminate drug trafficking, and eradicate terrorists inside their borders.

We can’t even accomplish these goals in the United States.

Lying is the best medicine

Tiger Woods’ recent problems offer an opportunity to examine one of those things everyone knows is true. I speak of the principle that the only way to deal with an embarrassing laps in personal deportment is to “get out in front of it” and “come clean with the complete truth” before it is inevitably made public via a long, Chinese-water torture, process of daily embarrassing revelations.

Like most bits of common wisdom there is an element of truth here; in all likelihood holding back will keep the dogs digging for more bones, and they are going to find some, but let’s examine this more closely. First of all, who is it that is dispensing all this sage advice to the philanderers, dog killers and drug users of America? Members of the working media, people selling advice books and other “experts,” as defined by 25-year-old Good Morning America and the Today Show associate producers.

The “experts” say that Tiger should have come clean to them, which is just a bit of a conflict of interest, isn’t it? And really, how realistic is that advice? They would have had Tiger stepping in front of the cameras, while the Escalade was still resting on its side, fessing up to who-the-hell-knows-how-many extra marital affairs in advance of their discovery. This just isn’t the way the male mind works. Deny, deny, deny is DNA hard-wired in men’s brains as the only reasonable response. As Richard Pryor once claimed to have said to one of his wives when she caught him in bed with another woman, “Who are you gonna believe baby? Me or your lyin’ eyes?”

But let’s say one was able to overcome the power of genetics; is the advice actually any good? I say no. The experts think they got the best of Tiger because they uncovered 3-4 of his playing partners. Well, what if there we actually 25 of them? Don’t the undiscovered five foursomes potentially save him tens of millions on his newly renegotiated prenuptial agreement?

Then there is the argument that stonewalling the media will inevitably lead to a ruined public image and lessening of celebrity-driven earning power. This is clearly horse hockey. Buzzard and I were discussing the issue on the phone yesterday during the Florida-Alabama game, and here is a very partial list of celebrities who did not come clean after some sort of public indiscretion: Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, Ray Lewis, David Letterman, Bill Clinton, Kobe Bryant, Rob Lowe, Alex Rodriguez, Hugh Grant, and Eddie Murphy. Crack a beer and make your own list. It will be twice as long as ours before the foam settles.

Are any of these guys wandering penniless in the wilderness? No. Letterman’s ratings actually went up after his partial non-apology. Kobe is King of the NBA. They all earn millions a year. With the exception of Slick Willie, the expert’s advice may actually be true for politicians, but I think that’s only because nobody likes them before they screw-up so there is no reservoir of good will to draw upon.

So take my advice. If you get caught at whatever, don’t talk to the media, don’t admit anything, take as long a vacation as you can to the most remote place you can find, and when you come back, pretend nothing ever happened - this is America where everything is forgotten sooner or later.

West Point Afghanistan speech

President Obama’s speech from West Point tonight was one of his best. He made a strong, logical argument, and even infused it with a little emotion – something he injects into most of his speeches too sparingly.

Never-the-less, I am not persuaded that we will accomplish in the next eighteen months what we have failed to accomplish in the past eight years, using less than half as many troops as we’ve had in Iraq.

What will Afghanistan be like in a year after we pull out? The appropriate analogy is that is will be changed just as much as the glass of water is changed once one removes a finger from it.

It was very hard to look at all the strong young faces in the West Point audience – literally the best America has to offer – without wondering which of them will leave life or limb in the Afghan mountains, trying in vain to prop up a corrupt government while fighting a ghost army.

The Bush administration left Obama with few choices – none of them easy – but I fear he is not choosing wisely. We need to get out of there now and rebuild this country. Every day we spend in Afghanistan we’re nothing more than the most effective recruiting agent for the Taliban and Al Qaeda.

A modern conversation

I got a text message from someone named Matt tonight.

Matt (9:08 PM) Wats good 5 5

me (9:12) wrong number

Matt (9:20) Dis ain't Jessica???

me (9:22) not even close

Matt (9:23) Dis Matt. who dis?

me (9:24) Dis a 60 year old man

Matt (9:25) Sorry about that sir
me (9:25) no prblm

Intelligent design

We’ve probably offended everyone’s political convictions on this blog by now, so let’s work on religion for a change. Somebody said more people have been killed in the name of religion than any other cause, and surely that is true. For this and other reasons, I don’t have much use for organized religion, but I’m much less sure what I think when it comes to the existence of God.

Surely for every person killed in the name of God, many more have been comforted by the knowledge that there is a God who loves them. There is so much evil in the world it is easy to discount the possibility of a benevolent, supreme being overseeing our lives, (much less accept the idea that “He needs your money” as George Carlin liked to remind us). Disbelief is the easy path; belief is hard work.

I have no ambivalence when it comes to teaching creationism or intelligent design in public schools however - that’s not the place for it – but I was listening to one of my favorite podcasts while humping away on the elliptical at the gym today and got to wondering about something.

“Studio 360” devoted the whole program to Darwin in honor of his 200th birthday. If there was ever anything you could characterize as intelligent design, wouldn’t it be evolution? It would be hard to imagine a more complex, elegant and logically structured system. Whether it was invented by God or just happened, it is certainly an intelligent design.

So why can’t evolution be the intelligent design certain Christians want to be taught in school? And why don’t scientists propose this idea? Wouldn’t it stop a lot of arguing and make society just a little more harmonious?

Happy Thanksgiving

I have nothing profound to add to the basic idea of the day. We all have something for which to be thankful. For starters, none of us are out in a rice paddy, standing in water up to our knees, digging for our dinners.

This is the best of all holidays; there are no competing religious dogma to divide us. We can all just be thankful for whatever gifts we've been given in whatever way pleases us.

We can be thankful that commercial interests have found it difficult to leverage Thanksgiving to much effect. Yes, there is the big parade, which has turned into one long television commercial, but Thanksgiving has become the last day we are actually semi-free of the unrelenting urging to "buy! buy! buy!" that will dominate our lives for the next 30 days. So far, the stores are holding off until at least midnight of the day after. Black Friday is a good name for it, too.

So I wish you all the best of all Thanksgivings. May you spend it with people you love, and who love you.

Warren O'Florida

I’ve been in Florida for eight days now, and based on the television advertising I would guess that the number one industry is suing people as a result of automobile accidents. It is also mandatory that in every commercial transaction that the buyer is asked, and provides, their Christian name before the transaction.

I’ve made a couple of critical acquaintances: the bookstore owner and the cigar shop proprietor. The former offers excellent dining advice and the latter serves excellent espresso and will talk about anything.

Did you know that there is a separate genre of fiction known as Florida lit? You may have heard of some of the better known practitioners of this craft like Carl Hiaasen or Randy Wayne Wright, but there are dozens. They feature wacky, iconoclastic people and situations; my new friend at the bookstore talked me on to one by Tim Dorsey who writes about a psychopathic serial killer who only kills people who need to be killed. I’ll give you a report later. And while this is an easy place at which to poke fun, it reminds me of Long Island with good weather.

I promised not to speak of the weather too often, but it is sorta the point of the place after all, and there is something pretty nice about sitting at the beach in shorts and a tee shirt in mid-November, as I am right now.

I’ve been driving my mother and her pals to the hair dresser, the grocery store and assorted other places. Does anyone know why the seat belt is so difficult for old people to either operate or to accept as a part of riding in a car? I have to put the belt on for all the old ladies and my mother pops hers off the moment we pull into her development and off the public roads.

It’s been pretty quiet. My only adventure was trying to find a good sports bar where I could watch the Ohio State game Saturday. The first try was closed (who’d want to watch a game on a Saturday afternoon in November?) and I ended up driving to Daytona Beach, truly a Long Island wannabe. Florida was playing South Carolina and had the big TV at the first place I stopped. I was relegated to a TV smaller than my mother’s with no HD, and I was sitting next to a guy who couldn’t tell me enough about how much he hated Ohio State in between singing along to the bad country music on the box.

I moved on to a nearby Hooters during a timeout. They had 40 TVs and at least as many Hooter girls, but none of them could manage to get ESPN to come in on the satellite. I made my way to the heart of DB where there was another big sports bar, but could not find a place to park within 20 blocks (Long Island again). I drove up the coast, getting desperate. I saw a small bar and pulled in. I was ready for a 19” b&w if necessary. There were four TVs – all tuned to the ‘gator game, each with a small knot of bikers huddled in front of it. It didn’t look like a crowd I’d have much success negotiating with.

Back on the coast road up to Ormond Beach I found a little restaurant. It had one small TV. The ‘gators were on but no one seemed to be watching. I requested and was granted permission to change channels. The barmaid asked my name before taking my order and told me hers. “I won’t have any trouble remembering that” I told her, “That’s my daughter’s name.”

When she brought me my beer she asked me if I was from Ohio, one thing led to another and it turned out she was from my hometown of Warren. She worked at the Lordstown GM plant and knew some people I knew. Her dad was only two years older than me, an unhappy revelation that seems to happen more frequently these days. The final amazing thing about the afternoon’s adventure is that her husband is from Sleepy Hollow, where I lived for 20 years. What are the odds?

Ohio State beat Iowa in overtime to win the Big 10 for the fifth year in a row.

Out-Googling Al Qaeda

We’ve had some of the most thoughtful comments ever on this blog to what was a throw-away comment in my last post about Muslim extremists. In addition to those comments I received several mails as well. I’d like to clarify my point and give everyone the opportunity to explore this issue further.

The first step in solving any problem is to recognize that the problem exists and call it by its true name. This is hardly a controversial point of view; it is shared by many people and is the first step in 12 step programs like AA.

One big problem facing this country is that radical Muslims are at war with us. Invading Iraq and Afghanistan may have exacerbated the problem, but they were at war with us long before those events, and they won’t stop killing us if we leave. Regardless of your position on the wars, this is a big problem that has taken many American lives and it isn’t going to go away by wishing it so.

Many Americans, including some members of the media, seem to be afraid to acknowledge this fact. I’m sure their reasons are varied, but it seems to stem from the belief that it would be even worse to acknowledge the problem because it would stigmatize innocent Muslims as well as those who make war against us. I don’t have an answer to that problem and I feel bad for the innocent. But the problem remains and is made worse by throwing a blanket of political correctness over it.

Failure to recognize the true problem has had us chasing Osama, Saadam, the Taliban and Al Qaeda when the real enemy is a belief system. It should be a propaganda war we are waging. It’s so ironic that a bunch of dark-age religious fanatics are beating us at the game of global communications and social networking. Maybe we should put the Google boys in charge of the war.

No one, not even the nut cases, are calling for Japanese-style internment camps. Quite the opposite; who best to help in this effort than loyal American Muslims who left the old world behind and want to enjoy the fruits of American liberal democracy.

Surely this is one issue where left and right can find some common ground and find a path to victory.

Hulk: please shut up

I turned on the TV this morning and found Hulk Hogan, wearing a pink doo rag, promoting his new book telling all about his recent depression and near suicide. Jesus Christ Almighty, is nothing sacred? What’s next, "T'he Navy Seal Diet" book? Dick Butkus coming out of the closet on Oprah? Why can’t people just shut up and keep a little tiny part of their lives to themselves? I don’t want to know.

F&LinR Update: I’ve been retired a month now. The farewell tour seems to be over. I kept my monthly train pass and Manhattan gym membership through October, but now I plan to visit the city only upon special invitation. I nearly went in yesterday for the Yankee parade, but came to my senses in time to spare myself the agony of being surrounded by 2-3 million blue-clad loud mouths who think they are special because they root for a team that can afford to spend unlimited dough to get the best players. My last “Canyon of Heroes” event was in ’81 when the Iran hostages got their parade; I’m glad I left it at that.

So I joined a new gym in Westchester and the contrast is interesting. In Manhattan the male/female ratio was about 50-50 and we all wore the same bland, baggy uniforms of blue shorts and gray tees. In Westchester it is a woman’s world. I’ve been one of only two men among 25 women in the spin classes, and there are no uniforms. These woman have a definite look. It would be a great setting for “The Housewives of Westchester County” should they make one. One should never judge a book by the cover, but where’s the fun in that? Let me try: good schools, a few years with prime jobs while living on the Upper West Side or Tribeca, then off to the suburbs once the kiddies arrived. They are nothing if not tasteful, and their typical gym outfit cost more than I used to spend on a suit. Whatever happened to natural fibers? It’s all high-tech, super-wicking microfiber and $150 shoes. I look like the pool man.

I like the suburban spin music better though. In the city the instructors were all sophistos, and the music had to represent their personal brand. We got a lot of Euro-Techno, Broadway show tunes, and indie-rock. The suburban instructors are more middle-of-the-road musically, but their selections are based on driving the class over displaying their artistic taste. Neither style is what I’d listen to for fun, but if you want something to help you sprint for a few minutes it’s hard to beat the last half of “Dueling Banjos.” Doo doo doot doot doo! We also get some country. Best lyric: “Cheater, cheater, where did you meet her, your low class, white trash whore.”

Great moments in political correctness: Have you noticed how hard the media is working to make sure we know that the Fort Hood murderer, Nidal Malik Hasan, was born and raised in the United States? When do you suppose we are going to stop pretending that it is some kind of coincidence that so many Muslims are killing Americans wherever they can find them? I really believe that the majority of us are capable of resisting the idea that this makes all Muslims bad, and the those who can’t only get more pissed off when they hear the media siding with the fairy tale that they comprise a tiny, random group of fanatics. Let’s keep searching the old ladies at the airport while the three young Yemeni men in turbans are given jobs in the airport.

I’m off to Florida Monday to scout for a new home.

Goodbye Afghanistan

Sometime soon President Obama is going to tell us what he intends to do about Afghanistan; in particular, whether he intends to commit additional U.S. troops to the cause of defeating the Taliban and flushing al qaeda from the country.

I have a lot of sympathy for the difficulty of the decision since he probably has a hundred times as much information as me, and it has taken me many months to come to my own conclusion about the right course of action. I’m not going to get into them here, but it is actually pretty easy to make a case for why we should continue fighting there, but in my mind, the case for disengaging is even stronger.

The arguments most often offered for leaving Afghanistan focus on the cost side of the cost/benefit equation, and there is no question that the cost of being there is very high. We’ve already lost over 900 men and women, and the pace of our loss is accelerating rapidly. It is unbearably sad to read their names, ages, and home towns each morning in the newspaper.
On top of this ultimate sacrifice, the country is draining the treasury of something like $67 billion per year at the current pace, which would certainly rise as additional troops are committed. Imagine how many bridges that money could repair here at home. You, no doubt, have your own wish list of projects better suited for the U.S. taxpayers’ money – or maybe we could just pay the minimum on the national MasterCard debt one of these months.

The list of negatives is long: we’re propping up a government so corrupt that the only credible alternative candidate decided to give up rather than go through another sham election even though it was the final run-off for the presidency. We all know the history of defeats suffered by global powers that have sought to conquer this vast and forbidding country. And the longer and more visibly we occupy the land of Allah, the more effectively we confirm the argument made by our enemies that we are the 21st century Knights of the Templar come to reclaim Jerusalem. Every soldier we send and every Afghan we kill only serves to recruit more Muslims to fight against us. Twas ever thus.

But ultimately it is the lack of substance on the benefit side of the equation that persuades me that it is time to exit Afghanistan. What exactly do we “win” if we win? The chief reason offered for fighting is the need to prevent al qaeda from having a safe haven there, but the core power of that organization is their ability to operate across borders, behind borders, and without borders. Most of the planning for 9/11 took place in Germany. The pilots trained in the United States. If we drive them from Afghanistan they will regroup in Pakistan, Yemen, the jungles of Indonesia, or the burned out shells of houses in Detroit.

We will be fighting these people for decades no matter what we do. We need a strategy and tactics appropriate to the challenge. Better intelligence, more and better drones, targeted humanitarian aid, and a better class of friends will serve us better than tens of thousands of soldiers bogged down in a hostel land for God knows how long.

Buy a newspaper

There was a depressing, if not surprising, report today that newspaper circulation continued to drop like a rock, with major daily papers, on average, experiencing a more than 10% decrease in the past year. The San Francisco Chronicle led the way with a 25.8% decline, but there were no real bright spots. In the few cases where there were small gains (Seattle and Denver) they came as a result of one paper folding in a formerly two-paper market, with the surviving paper picking up some of the dead paper’s subs – a net loss of readers. This is bad for consumers and bad for America.

It’s bad for consumers for two big reasons. Clearly, getting news and information online or on a cell phone is irresistibly efficient for some people. You just tell Google or Yahoo the subjects that interest you and whenever there is a mention of those topics you will receive an email with a daily abstract on your selected topics. It requires no maintenance; it’s free, fast and reliable.

But does that make you well informed? Hardly. The system is predicated on asking, in advance, for what is important. So to get the right stuff every day you need a crystal ball and if you had one of those you wouldn’t need either the Daily News or Google.

And what about the stuff you didn’t know you wanted to know? There is a surprise with every turn of the broadsheet when you read a daily paper, and that’s how you expand your own horizons; a provocative headline, an engaging photo, or a well-selected pull quote and the next thing you know you’re reading about neuroscience, viticulture or the education system in rural China. A great opening sentence got me to read Bob Herbert’s column today and it was excellent.

The second reason the demise of newspapers would be bad for consumers is that the “free” news they are getting today, in many cases, originated in a newspaper or a magazine or some other “old” media source. Therefore it was paid for by the subscribers, but once they go away, so does the “free” online version that was along for the ride. Then you’ll be left with nothing but people sitting around in their underwear blogging away for free media, and trust me, it will not be nearly as good.

More importantly, no newspapers would be very bad for America. Newspapers and magazines are the only real counterbalance we have against powerful, moneyed interests. Those BVD-wearing bloggers aren’t going to take on politicians or the drug industry. To do that takes resources that go way beyond a home computer and a blogspot account. It takes teams of reporters, editors, and researchers, and very often, lawyers, to challenge the powerful. We need newspapers and magazines.

“Were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers, or newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter.” Thomas Jefferson

Dear Congresswoman Lowey

October 22, 2009

Hon. Nita Lowey
U.S. House of Representatives
2329 Rayburn House Office BuildingWashington, DC 20515-3218

Dear Congresswoman Lowey:

I’m writing to announce my new strategy for voting in Congressional elections. It was born of my frustration with Congress’ general inability to deal with the many serious problems facing our country.

Reviewing your web site, your constituent emails, or similar communications from either New York Senator, reveals thoughtful and rational policies for addressing these problems, and given the dominant position your party now holds in Congress I was expecting dynamic and creative action to combat the financial, educational, environmental, foreign policy and social tribulations bedeviling us.

Instead we are getting financial service industry reforms that fail to address the specific problems that got us in our current mess, health care reform that looks more like a band-aid than major surgery, the corruption of the past administration replaced with an unwillingness to remove a tax cheat from the Chairmanship of the Ways and Means Committee, and general disappointment for those of us who had hoped for genuine reform.

The problems we face as a nation can only be solved by a bipartisan commitment to find solutions. Instead we get a never-ending war between the political parties and weak legislative action that gives the appearance of problem-solving without actually doing anything.

While you are almost certainly not the problem Congresswoman, from here on I am holding you (and Senators Schumer and Gillibrand) responsible for the actions of the entire Congress. By this I mean that unless there is real progress by next November I shall vote for your opponent regardless of your particular actions, or how closely your positions match my own.

Sincerely,
d’blank

Fear & Loathing in Retirement

Work is many things, most of them good. Work offers social interaction, a sense of purpose, intellectual stimulation, health care and a paycheck. Not many things do as much for us. But work is also a form of tyranny. It imposes restraints on our time and our range of self-expression. It imposes deadlines and de facto curfews. It imposes dress codes, modes of behavior and adherence to countless rules of its particular culture that are unwritten and unevenly applied to members of its tribe.

I’ve been retired for two weeks now and it’s all good, but it’s going to take more than a few weeks to adjust to my freedom from the tyranny of 35 years in the harness. When you throw in commuting, I just got an extra 50-60 hours a week given to me and I haven’t quite figured out how to use them yet. There’s a little voice in my head that speaks up 3-4 times a day telling me I’m not making enough progress on my list of things that need to be done, and it takes a few seconds to remind the voice that there’s plenty of time, and that I’m the one setting the timetable now.

For now I’m happy just completing my farewell tour of lunches, dinners, golf and cocktails with assorted pals and business associates who mostly seem happy to pick up the check. I don’t know why golf on Tuesday is so much better than golf on Saturday, but it is. Cocktails remain a joy on all days ending in “y.”

What’s next? Beats me. I feel like I’m still finishing a really long book. It’s about a 1200 page work of non-fiction; alternatively fascinating and tedious, with about 50 pages to go. If it was about someone’s life other than my own I might be tempted to set it aside now and find something more fun to read. But I need to finish it, which will probably take another couple of months. I’m enjoying the journey. Mrs. d’blank and I attended the Metropolitan Opera the other night and enjoyed Il Barbiere di Siviglia (above). Who knew it was a comedy? There’s a lot of New York City I never had time to explore, so boredom is not on the horizon.

I only have one rule at the moment: do an absolute minimum of things I don’t want to do, and fill my days with things that matter to me, while I’m deciding what book to read next.

Hate crimes

America is the only country on earth that could invent a concept like “hate crime” and I hate this invention of the politically correct. Congress, which of course has nothing better to do, just extended the crimes covered to those committed against gay people. Racially motivated crimes and crimes against Freemasons were already covered. I have nothing against gays, other races or Freemasons, but I hate the law because:

First, by increasing the penalties for hate crimes, it diminishes the seriousness of a plain old crime of similar nature. If someone beats you to death just to steal your wallet are you any less dead than if you were beaten to death because of your race, and does your murderer deserve less punishment?

Second, it requires the prosecutors and the jury to be mind-readers. We’re already executing people for murders that had eye-witnesses who turned out to be wrong; isn’t this putting an awful lot of pressure on an already stressed legal system?

Third, it perpetuates and encourages the whole “victim culture” in America. I’m not going to go into this any further because it tends to make anyone who feels this way sound like Glenn Beck. I don’t want to sound like Glenn Beck, but I don’t like this crap either.

Finally, it is a classic political cop-out. The kind our Congress performs so well. Instead of doing something constructive like giving gays full rights under the Constitution, as many people feel they should, they enact this essentially meaningless statute so they can beat their chests and claim to be both pro-rights and anti-crime, while accomplishing nothing.

Retirement. Well, I just completed my first week of retirement, and I plan to write about it and get back on some regular publishing schedule soon. However, if next week is anything like last week I may have to spend 45 days at Hazeden first. I’ll be back to you soon. In the meantime – talk amongst yourselves.

David Letterman is a pig

If you ran a business and used your HR director as a pimp to procure women, who would serve as both your employees and concubines, you’d most likely end up in court and probably on the front page of the local paper, held up as an example of how the rich and powerful exploit their positions.

This is exactly what Letterman has done, but it’s only the foundation of his complete pigishness.

Not only did he show no shame or remorse, he used the story of his serial exploitations of his staff as fodder for an on-air, smarmy, wise-ass comedy bit that was cleverly constructed so as to reveal his behavior late within the story of the alleged blackmail plot against him. He had his audience laughing and applauding in sympathy before they knew the real story. He made the average politician turned adulterer look good by comparison.

And let’s add stupendous hypocrite to the list of Letterman descriptors. Who told more Elliot Spitzer jokes than Dave? At least the Governor hired a professional who could have walked away from her gig with him at any time, without fear of losing her job or being blackballed from her chosen industry.

Does anyone still find Dave’s jokes about Sarah Palin’s daughter funny? Maybe he was planning to offer her an internship as a peace offering.

Even Don Imus called him “a mean-spirited creep.” Letterman is just another rich prick who uses his power to exploit those he can.

Retiring

I’m retiring this week; not from the blog, or from life, I’m actually retiring from my job of many years. This is proving to be a surprisingly stressful and demanding process, and I may bore you with the details of it all a bit later. However, it is clearly not going to be this week, so I thought I’d just let everyone know that I plan to return soon.

The hardest part about retiring is that it is like having your leg in a cast. Once people see the cast, you know where the conversation is going, and there are only so many questions to be asked. The victim of the broken leg has the advantage of being able to answer most of the obvious questions the cast evokes. I, on the other hand, have absolutely no answers to any of the standard retirement questions. About the 4-5th time they are asked it starts to make you feel stupid. Somewhere around the 25-30th time, it made me feel homicidal.

More on being a cranky retiree later.

The Iranian lunatic

Would anyone care to stand up for the U.N.? Or for that matter, can anyone identify something it does that couldn’t be done as well, or better, by individual countries? As a New Yorker, it seems to me that the U.N.’s principle reason for being is to provide free parking for its third-world members.

Yesterday’s performance by Iran’s Ahmadinejad was a complete disgrace. To have given him a platform, under the roof of an institution chartered to promote world peace, so he could spew his lies and hatred was beyond appalling. In case you missed it, the man who leads the country with no homosexuals once again denied the holocaust and said Israel “has no future.” And if that wasn’t enough they let the mass-murderer Kadafi have the soapbox next.

So today, Bebe Netanyahu got up there and called Ahmadinejad the liar he is, and called the U.N. the gutless enablers of extremist Muslims that they are. If the Israelis end up taking out the Iranian nuclear manufacturing sites it will be because the U.N. not only did nothing to stop these stone-age lunatics from getting the bomb, but actually gave them credibility on the world stage.

All the U.N. is doing is taking up a perfectly good location for condos with East River views.

A joke

St. Peter has a doctor appointment and asks Jesus if he’ll watch the Pearly Gates for him for an hour or so until he gets back.
Jesus says, “Sure – but what do I do?”
“It’s easy” replies St. Pete. “When someone shows up you just look them up in the book to see if they are on the list. If they are, let them in; if not, have them wait on the bench over there until I return.”
“Sounds easy” Jesus relies, and off goes St. Peter. In a matter of minutes the first person comes tottering up the path to the gates. A very feeble old man steps up to Jesus, who asks the old man his name.
“I don’t know.” he says.
Jesus tries another approach: “Well then, where are you from?”
“I don’t know.” the man repeats.
“Well I have to find you in the book or I can’t let you in. Do you remember anything about your life that might help me find you?” Jesus asks.
“Well, I remember that I was a carpenter, and that I had a son, who was greatly admired by millions from the time of his birth.” responded the old man.
Dumbfounded, Jesus opens his arms wide and cries, “father?”
“Pinocchio – is that you?” asked the old man.

I got that joke from Murphy’s Saloon, which continues to be my favorite podcast. If you like the blues I can’t recommend it highly enough. That reminds -- I forgot to give credit for the last joke I posted on 9/3 ...thanks Nigel.

If you are a joke fan, I also recommend the site “Old Jews Telling Jokes.” The jokes are old too, but the delivery makes them well worth hearing again.

Another podcast I’m really enjoying is The Moth. It was started by the southern writer George Dawes Green. Each episode is only about 10 minutes long and consists of a single person telling a personal story, without a script or notes. The stories can be about anything. Recently I listened to a retired NYC detective talk about tracking a fugitive, a guy describing his first trip to Burning Man, and a gay teenager talking about beating up a bully who was tormenting him. They are very personal and real.

I’m looking forward to reading “The Spies of Warsaw,” by Alan Furst. I got interested after reading Steve Dougherty’s piece in last Sunday’s New York Times travel section, in which Steve visited the Warsaw haunts of said spies. Doc is my hero. He has a way of talking editors into sending him to cool places where he can explore his exotic interests on their dime, including St. Petersburg, Russia and a Moroccan music festival.

Are any of you familiar with Studs Terkel’s work? I want to read something by him but I don’t know what to start with. Any ideas?

Ugly baby

If this health care bill does not pass, or if what passes is some obamanation that fails to cut costs or improve the system, the Democrats will have only themselves to blame.

According to yesterday’s New York Times, HR 3200 weighs in at trim 1,017 pages. If you don’t want to read it, a New Jersey voice-over actress got 60 of her friends to help her read it into digital sound files that you can listen to online or download to an iPod. It takes over 24 hours to play the whole thing. What would you say the over/under is on how many Congressmen have read it? I’ll put $100 on “under” for any number over 50. It sounds fascinating. Here’s an excerpt:

“To the extent such provisions are not superseded by or inconsistent with subtitle C, the provisions of section 2705 (other than subsection A, paragraph 1, subsection A, paragraph 2 and subsection C) of the Public Health Service Act shall apply to a qualified health benefits plan.”

Is it any wonder no one trusts politicians? Instead of a simple, direct plan, the Dems have given us a Trojan Horse of a bill, in which I promise you they have hidden hundreds of gifts for their owners. Remember, drug and insurance companies don’t just own Republicans – than bought plenty of Dems too.

And then there is the “You lie!” issue. Joe Wilson is a jerk, and I don’t think the President lied; if you think you are telling the truth but you are wrong, you are not a liar. However, one thing keeps bothering me: has anyone seen a really objective analysis of the bill and what rights it gives to illegal aliens? I haven’t, and I’ve been looking. I would have thought the media would have been all over the substance of this comment. I know it is impossible to prove a negative, but shouldn’t this be a pretty straight-forward issue? Can’t the bill simply say, “No papers, no health care?”

I’d bet that more than 90% of Americans want a nonambiguous, no-health-care-for-illegal-aliens clause in the bill. So why isn’t it there? And if this most simple of all things can’t be made clear, what else is hiding inside HR 3200? If you want to stymie the right then draft a clear, direct bill that anyone can read and feel good about. This is the Democrats baby and it is an ugly child.

Tom Gorman

I didn’t know Tom Gorman until I attended his funeral eight years ago.

He was the brother of a colleague of mine, and a Port Authority policeman, badge #1712. Tom was assigned to an emergency medical services unit, which was among the first to respond to the catastrophe at the World Trade Center, and the entire team of eight men was lost.

He was just 41 years old, and left a wife, Barbara, and three children: Laura 15, Patrick 12 and Bridget 9. He coached both his daughter’s basketball team and his son’s Little League baseball team in his hometown of Middlesex, NJ, and was the driving force in creating the girl’s basketball league. He even designed the team’s logo and uniforms, which were the envy of the league. Before becoming a P.A. policeman, he was a fireman for eight years in Bayonne, NJ, the town he grew up in.

But facts are not the measure of the man. The value of Tom’s life was expressed in the words of the people who eulogized him – his hometown friend of 35 years, the buddy he coached with (who saluted him with Tom’s own goofy “Middlesex” cheer in front of a thousand people in the church), the priest who knew him all his life, and his own younger brother, who was working in Tower One and was helped to safety by another Port Authority cop. Representatives of Mayor Giuliani, the Governor of New Jersey and the Port Authority, also spoke.

Through their words we learned that he was dedicated to his family, loyal to his friends, funny if he trusted you, willing to help anyone, a hard-core fireman and policeman who never brought the job home at night.

Words aren’t always necessary. There were a dozen teenaged girls wearing their basketball jerseys over their street clothes, which spoke volumes about Tom’s impact on their lives.
It was an emotional and dramatic event. No amount of pageantry can replace a father, a husband, a son, a friend, a brother – but it was a comfort to many of us, as Americans, to see that a sacrifice on this scale does not go unnoted.

There was no casket. A policeman’s hat and gloves rested on a pedestal in front of the alter. Every corner of the church was filled; it was standing room only. There were over 200 uniformed policemen from the area, including an honor guard from the NJ State Police. A bagpipe and drum corps played “Amazing Grace” with such strength and passion that it became a physical experience.

After the policemen, and the family left the church, we exited into a beautiful, technicolor fall afternoon, with a bright blue sky and just a few white clouds high overhead. It was cool and a little breezy. The family stood on the steps of the church as the honor guard fired a three-gun salute. All 200 policemen faced the family, at attention, as a bugler played taps. The honor guard folded the American flag with perfect precision and presented it to Barbara. The policeman’s hat and gloves were given to Tom’s son Patrick – perhaps the most heart-breaking thing I’ve ever seen. And then several cars pulled up and drove the family away to begin trying to get on with rest of their lives.

It has somehow become common practice to refer to every poor soul who was killed on 9-11 as “a hero.” I don’t think you have to run into a burning building to save a stranger to qualify as a hero, but just being in the wrong place at the wrong time doesn’t quite cut it for me.

Tom Gorman was a hero – in life and in death.

The speech

Well, I'm going to go out on a limb and say it was a good speech, that I support the components of the plan, and that neither of those things mean much. B.O. talked a little tougher -- which was good; but now we need to see if he can also walk the walk.

Have you ever seen a meaner, tougher looking politician than John Boehner? Man. Every time they showed him during the speech he looked like he wanted to walk up to the podium and beat Barack about the head and shoulders with Nancy Pelosi's gavel. I still don't see many GOP votes going for whatever bill makes it way out of Congress.

What say you? Will we get a bill? Will it matter?

A big week

President Obama is giving a speech today, and it is his one big chance to convince America’s school children of the importance of becoming homosexuals, getting lots of abortions, reading Marx, and keeping prayer out of their lives. I hope he nails it – otherwise what kind of future is in store for this country?

Then tomorrow we get something that FDR did only once in nearly 12 years as President (and that was to declare war on Japan) – an address to a joint session of Congress. The President will speak on health care and I want to add my voice to the chorus singing “this better be good.”

Issues don’t get much more complicated than this, and the economic stakes are rarely higher. After months of public debate I’m only sure of two things: 1) the Republicans are against everything and 2) I don’t know what Obama really wants.

It’s time for him to make clear what it is he wants, and to beat the Democrats in Congress into submission until he gets it. If he does that, I believe he will ultimately get some Republican support, and he will certainly regain some of his losses among independents. He can live without the former, but not without the latter.

Barack Obama will never be an effective leader of the country until he can demonstrate the ability to lead his own party. It isn’t too late, but it might be a week from now.

Miscellaneous

I hope I don’t get sued by Gary Trudeau, but the current storyline in Doonesbury strikes a note that is resonating with more and more Americans. Those of us of a certain age have seen this movie before and it did not have a happy ending for anyone.

Buy This Book: Former People writer and friend, Irene Zutell’s new novel “Pieces of Happily Ever After” was published by St. Martin’s Press this week, and if it is as much fun to read as her first novel it will be a great way to spend the Labor Day weekend. She got a great review from Publishers Weekly: Go buy it.

I hope President Obama read David Brooks on Tuesday. He is losing the support of independent voters at Usain Bolt-like speed and, as usual, Brooks puts his finger right on the cause of it. Read it here.

I hate to be insensitive, but when will “California is burning” cease to be news? Isn't it a permanent condition?

I think half of you are already reading it, but Pat Conroy's "South of Broad" is a terrific story by a great American author. I wish I could string words together like that. Three movies worth seeing: Inglorious Basterds, Hurt Locker and Julie & Julia.

...so I booked into a hotel and said to the receptionist,"I hope the porn channel in my room is disabled."

"NO," she said, "it's regular porn, you sick bastard."

And finally, they are burying Michael Jackson today. I hope they dress him in his Thrilla costume -- he won't need any make-up to look like a zombie at this point.

Have a nice, long, last summer weekend.

Peter’s Mercedes

Peter Avalone was, at least on paper, the kind of guy I generally don’t like much. We met when we joined the same golf club in the late-90’s. Peter’s slightly doughy, but never-rumpled body was always wrapped in the perfect clothes. I don’t know what he paid for a haircut, but every hair was always the perfect length – like it had been cut that morning no matter how often I saw him. It was silvery white, which added authority to an already formidable presence.

Peter was a Princeton grad and had served as an aid to New York Senator Jacob Javits before going to Wall Street, where he became a managing director at Drexel Burnham. He lived in a multi-million dollar home in one of Westchester’s nicest neighborhoods and had a wife and two kids – all with last names for first names. To top it off, Peter had a deep need to be the center of attention and “the big man” in every situation. By the time I met him he was in his late 40’s, semi-retired, and playing a lot of golf. This combination of traits would normally be all it takes to make me slide to the farthest bar stool from their owner. And yet, Peter was a very hard guy to dislike.

“Charming” is the only word I know for it; he had lots of funny stories, and often made himself the butt of his own jokes. He could put anyone at ease. He knew more people at the club after a year than I know now, more than 10 years later, and he loved to gossip –not the mean-spirited kind of gossip that characterizes club culture, but a harmless “the-king-has-no-clothes” kind that always made the most pompous, imperious members its slightly-bruised victims.

Every year the club brought in a couple young pros straight out of college. They made very little money and lived in a small apartment over the pro shop. Peter took a couple lessons a week and played almost every day, but could never get much below a 30 handicap. One summer he took one of the pros out for a playing lesson once a week and always bet him on the match. It didn’t matter how many strokes he got, he lost every time. I can’t even remember what Peter would have theoretically won had he ever beaten the pro, but I’ll never forget what he lost. The young pro had a girlfriend but no car. Every time he beat Peter he won the use of Peter’s car that Saturday night – a Mercedes SL500 of very recent vintage.

Peter began to suffer serious economic reversals around 2001, and over the course of a couple of years they caused him to first drop his club membership, and then sell his beautiful home near the Hudson. Several of us tried to stay in touch, inviting him for drinks or dinners, but he refused all invitations. After a few months he stopped returning calls and emails.

As the years went by his wife divorced him and he became estranged from his children, even missing his daughter’s wedding a year or so ago. There were stories of several found, and lost, jobs over the past couple of years, but I don’t know if they are true. He recently had a trial as the real estate authority on Fox Business Network, but it apparently did not go well enough to win a regular gig.

Last Wednesday a motorist reported seeing a man run across several lanes of traffic on the Newburgh-Beacon Bridge which carries I-84 over the Hudson River. The man was Peter. He leapt over the rail to the river 160 feet below. Dead and alone at 59. He’d been living in a hotel in Fishkill, a run-down, up-state river town for several months.

On one hand it wasn’t a great surprise, but on the other, it was an enormous shock. I’m having a very hard time connecting the dots from the person I knew to the man running across that bridge. I went to the Fox site and viewed Peter’s segment. I’m not sure I would have recognized him. He’d lost 20-30 pounds and his hair was thinner, but the real difference was that the light was out. The big personality and stupendous self-confidence had been replaced by a nervous, tentative man I didn’t know.

Several of us are trying to find out if there will be be services, but no one seems to know. I’m sorry I couldn’t help my friend. I’m sorry he died so alone and desperate. I wanted to share a little of the good and happy man I knew before fate took its unfortunate turn.

Woodstock

This Saturday marks the 40th anniversary of Woodstock - a festival of peace love and understanding. I was working in the 35" mill at Cooperweld Steel that summer, throwing chains around red hot ingots of steel after they immerged from the furnace. There was very little of any of the aforementioned qualities to be found at the 'weld, but, after hours, it was very possible to find some combination of sex, drugs and rock & roll. So while I wasn't there, I felt very much like a participant in the event.

I’m going to be gone much of August so this might be my last post this month. I’d be interested to hear what the rest of you were doing in August 1969. Please share your stories.

Bill & Kim

This photo was easily my favorite of the week. Say whatever you want about Bill Clinton, but nobody plays the role of ex-president better than him. In the photo, Bill is Snow White with Kim as Grumpy; the two of them and the other six dwarves seem to be posed in front of the evil witch’s mirror gone hi-def. Or is that a scene from Fantasia behind them? Sorry to mix my movie metaphors.

I don’t understand what all the fuss was about. Bill will go to the opening of a car wash if the money is right, so in this case he got paid in his favorite currency – attention – and he brought home the bacon. Speaking of the bacon, why has no one asked, “what were those women doing strolling along (or over) the border of North Koreas?” Hadn’t they heard it was dangerous there? I’m glad they got home, and I’m glad we made the effort to get them, but isn’t the appropriateness of their own behavior worth examining here?

I’d call the response to last week’s post “general agreement” with the premise that Congress is corrupt, but it fell short of an outcry to light the torches and grab the closest pitchfork. In the meantime, Billy Tauzin, who was formerly a US Congressman who oversaw the drug industry, and is now the $3 million a year hear of PhRMA, the drug industry lobby group, took President Obama to the cleaners. Billy is the guy who got Congress to insert a provision into the Medicare part D legislation enacted under Bush II, which prohibited the government from negotiating for the best price with prescription drug manufacturers.

Last week, in closed-door meetings with administration officials, he got them to agree to prevent Congress from rescinding that law in gratitude for the $80 billion in savings Billy’s group already offered to cut from drug expenses over the next 10 years. Never mind that independent audits say the provision is costing the government $20 billion a year in foregone savings. Another case of democracy in auction.

Because of his former position in Congress, BT isn’t even supposed to engage in lobbying but what’s a minor detail like that to important people like him?

If you want more examples, read Frank Rich’s column from last Sunday to see who big pharma and the insurance industry is paying off now. According to the Congressional Quarterly, in the first half of 2009 the 18 members of Congress overseeing health care reform got an average of $100,000 each – including Nancy Pelosi. But I’m sure that won’t effect their decisions.

True or false?

Our national infrastructure is crumbling, our education system is second rate, we have 40 million people with no health care, over 30,000 people were killed by guns last year, jobs are disappearing by the millions and the middle along with them, Social Security and Medicare are going broke, along with a dozen or so states, and if it weren’t for China, the federal government would be broke too. Not to mention that the Browns have not won it all since ’64.

It’s tough to solve any problem unless you know the root cause, so I’m taking a shot at articulating the root of all our problems in one simple (but hopefully not simplistic) statement:

“Congress is unable to solve any important problem facing the nation because they are not working on behalf of American citizens -- the largest single interest group in the country.

They don’t work for us because their number one priority is staying in office, which requires so much money that most Congressmen become captives of special interest groups, and the enormous sums of money that they provide.

The success of each legislative initiative is measured by how many, and how well, the relevant interest groups are rewarded or protected. The overall efficacy of the legislation is secondary at best.

This problem is limited to neither Republicans nor Democrats; it is systemic. By any reasonable definition, the system and the players are corrupt and ineffective.”

I realize there are members of Congress who are exceptions, but they are too few and too weak to be effective; most “reformers” and “insider-change-agents” are eventually co-opted or seduced by the money and power of the system, or just give up and enjoy the retirement benefits.

I’d love to know everyone's response to the question, “is the above statement true or false?” You may disagree that this is the root of all our problems, but still believe the statement is true. Feel free to elaborate.

Chinese justice

According to Mao: The Untold Story, Mao Zedong was directly responsible for the deaths of more than 70 million Chinese. He once ordered 10,000 men buried alive. He sent his own brother out to be ambushed, and then refused to help him when he survived – allowing him to freeze to death in the mountains.

He was a real bastard, but if you believe the old saying, “that which does not kill you makes you stronger” you can only imagine how tough the Chinese people who survived may be.

Last week the Chinese government was planning to sell a state owned steel mill to private owners. (I can’t help but wonder if Goldman Sachs represented either party.). The workers demonstrated forcefully in anticipation of layoffs. The new owners sent the factory boss out to crack down, and the workers beat him to death. Beat him to death.

I’m not advocating violence, but it makes me wonder what it would take to stir an American mob to this level of political passion. Tonghua Iron & Steel was contemplating laying off 10% of their 30,000 workers. Tragic if you are in the 10%, but not that bad as these things go.

How do you think the Chinese would have dealt with Bernie Madoff if he’d been fleecing the Han rather than the Jew?

And what about Goldman Sachs? I still can’t believe there has been no meaningful public outcry in America against this organization. (I’m still surprised no one has killed O.J. either.)

To understand how deeply GS has its hooks into our economy, our government, and our pockets, I strongly recommend Matt Taibbi’s most recent piece in Rolling Stone, “The Great American Bubble Machine.”

Here’s the opening paragraph: “The first thing you need to know about Goldman Sachs is that it's everywhere. The world's most powerful investment bank is a great vampire squid wrapped around the face of humanity, relentlessly jamming its blood funnel into anything that smells like money.” So you know it’s balanced.

Once you read that you want to read Matt’s account of what happened to the financial markets last fall in, “The Big Takeover.”

After reading, either, let a lone both, you might find yourself daydreaming about a little Chinese justice for the Goldman crowd.

With friends like these…

President Obama would have been better off if the Republicans had been able to hold on to a few more seats. Unfortunately, instead of having a real enemy to fight he is stuck with a super majority of his own party; with friends like these, who needs enemies?

As always, David Brooks says it so much than me today, but I’ve been concerned from the very earliest days of this administration that Obama is just not tough enough for the job that needs to be done. I believe him to be a smart, sincere, pragmatic person, but he is a captive of a political party that isn’t any of those things, and he is letting them call the shots.

If you gave me 100-1 odds I would not bet five dollars that we’ll get a health care bill enacted that does a damn thing to curb the rise in health care costs. To do so would mean challenging the health care establishment like big pharma and insurance companies, and the gravy train they’ve been riding for 50 years. The Dems are not one bit more likely to do that than the Republicans were. In fact, the only difference between the two parties that I can see is for which business interest they principally whore.

The only hope is if the President stands up and says “enough!” and it doesn’t look to me like Obama is going to do it. The media is all a twitter over the Republican’s “stop Obama’s health care plan” initiative. Why? Who cares? The Republicans aren’t going to be a factor. They are just background noise. The bloated, blubbery, self-serving slab of pork the Democrats are creating has clogged most American’s arteries before it even gets out of the kitchen.

That pig is already dead. They may still force us to eat it, but they’ll pay for it in ’10.

Dear Commissioner Goodell:

Commissioner Roger Goodell

National Football League

280 Park Avenue

New York, NY 10017

Dear Commissioner Goodell:

I've had a belly-full of bad behavior by professional athletes, and I have no special love for Michael Vick nor any team for which he played. Furthermore, I think what he did to his dogs was despicable.

Never-the-less, I’m writing to urge you not to impose any additional penalties on him that would impede his ability to earn a living in his chosen profession. Mr. Vick has been punished by the proper authorities, and by any reasonable standard, punished harshly. The NFL has no moral authority to punish him further.

If, as suggested in this week's Sports Illustrated, you plan to make your decision based on whether or not he feels "deep remorse" for his deeds, I also request that you send me six numbers between 1 and 56 that I can play in next week’s Mega Millions drawing, as I could sure use your insight; my kid's birthdays just aren't bringing home the bacon. PETA's Ms. Newkirk, who wants to subject Vick to a brain scan to see if he is "capable of remorse," places her faith in neuroscience, but I’ll take good old-fashioned ESP any day.

Sometimes the best PR play is to just do the right thing. Let him play.

Go Browns.

Sincerely

d’blank

Why America is doomed

This is why I cant write about politics every day

Just read this New York Times story. Or don’t. It’ll make you ill. One of America’s biggest, bluest-chip companies, Aetna, sells health insurance to its fellow Americans, that covers room and board, but does not cover much of anything else. So you’re fine if you check in for a rest, but you are completely screwed if you actually need anything like an operation or medicine. So the people in this story go bankrupt because their worthless policy doesn’t cover the important things.

This product is marketed as a “limited benefit” policy. I haven’t seen an application, but no doubt the unpleasant details are in at least 8 point type and no farther than 10 pages from the front page.

Who do you suppose came up with this little innovation? Must have been an illegal alien, or maybe one of those homosexuals that wants to get married. Or maybe some small town, gun loving, church-goer. These are about the only people who make the news - -except when a celebrity croaks.

Surely the shameless cad wasn’t an upper middle class, polite, properly-dressed, good-school, regular-voter citizen? One of the people who never makes the news because they just have no pizzazz? Matt and Katie are too busy talking to bloggers who specializes in Michael Jackson pharmacology to dig into something this unsexy, un-American, exploitive and evil.

How to survive in business

The following are my rules for surviving in business. (Note that I did not say “succeeding,” which is an entirely different matter.) These rules may work more broadly, but by “business” I mean primarily large business, which is a particular species of employment, to which I’ve been subjected for 27 of the last 33 years.

I stole at least two of these from someplace long forgotten, and there isn’t much originality in the others either. This is certainly not a comprehensive list – just some things I’m fairly certain are true. I realize it’s kind of a pathetically short list after so many years in the workplace. Maybe you all have some suggestions for additions.

• If you wait to act until you are sure there is a problem, it is probably too late to do anything about it.


• High margin businesses are great, but they will hide a plethora of problems, give cover to a lot of specious expenses, and make mediocre managers look good.


• Most people’s biggest liability is their greatest strength taken too far.


• All things worth doing are not worth doing well. It’s better to act than to study. It is better to try five things quickly, even if it means making four mistakes, than to do one thing carefully. Three singles are better than one home run.


• Communication is everything. It is the mortar that holds the organization together.


• The hardest skill position to fill in any business is a good salesman.


• Enthusiasm is the most valuable quality to bring to the workplace.


• People work for many reasons. Money is only one of them, and it is rarely the number one reason.


• You manage things. You lead people.


• No one can do it alone. Success requires that everyone be a contributor. The most important thing you can do is hire the right people.


• Good ideas are a dime a dozen. Executing well is the key to success. (Inspiration without execution is hallucination.)


• Find something you do well, and then do more of it; e.g., if you are a good writer, find work where good writing is valued.


• It’s easier to apologize than to ask permission.


• Never argue with an idiot. They drag you down to their level, and then beat you with experience.


• Don't be irreplaceable - if you can't be replaced, you can't be promoted.


• In the history of the world, no one has ever washed a rental car.


• Never trust the bosses; this does not mean they are all evil – but that’s the way to bet.