Egg blog

2009-03-12T23:27:00.000-07:00

Um, I'm not really sure how blogspot is choosing to organize these pics, so we'll have to wait and see. More photos from Spain, mostly from the Alhambra in Granada. Truly one of the most amazing places I've ever been. I don't know what the Arabic writing says, but these intricate carvings adorned the walls throughout the Alhambra, which is really a compound, not just a single building.

The black-and-white pillars-and-windows picture is from a cathedral built by Queen Isabella. Also an incredible piece of architecture, grand in every sense of the word.

These other pillars are also from the Alhambra. It just goes on and on, and everything is so ornate.

The scarves were just so vibrant I couldn't resist shooting them. Spain was such a sensation for the eyes. And to think I almost didn't go!

Finally, inside at the cheesy Flamenco performance. Although the whole thing was pretty low-budg over all, this one guy playing the guitar was actually quite good (to my untrained ear), and he played with such passion that it made the experience worthwhile.

2009-03-12T23:22:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm experimenting with posting photos on my blog. It's a new thing for me. So there's no rhyme to what I'm choosing right now—it's just practice.

This photo is from a trip I took to Granada (the city in Spain, not the country in the Caribbean). My friends and I went to a really cheesy Flamenco performance. Strange experience all around, but I like the picture nonetheless. Spain is a very colorful place.

Lessons from a four-year-old

2009-03-08T22:24:00.000-07:00

It's late, and I'm tired, but I can't sleep. That sums up many of my late nights. But tonight I thought I'd get back on my blog, even though I have trouble writing it.

It's a strange thing, being a writer yet having trouble blogging.

I've talked about this with a number of friends, especially other writers. I don't have a problem writing stories for publication, and I don't have a problem writing long emails to friends. But blogging is so stratospheric. Everything just goes out into the ether--no rules, nothing. There's no set topic or audience. I don't like blogging about personal stuff, as some people do--I'll save that for emails. And without a specific audience or assignemnt, like one has for a magazine or newspaper, I don't know where to begin.

I guess that's why the election was such easy fodder. There was always something begging for a comment. The current economic climate might be the same, but I'm tired of the discussion. I think the constant monitoring actually feeds the panic and makes the problem worse. If we'd had CNN and live feeds from the stock market during the '30s, this country probably would have completely self-destructed.

So the hour grows later still, especially in light of daylight saving time (really, no pun intended), and I promised a friend I would blog, but I still have no idea what to say.

So, at her suggestion, I'll talk about skiing. Teaching skiing, to be specific. Teaching little kids, to be more specific. My friend, whom we'll call "Jane," because that's her name, told me, "You can always talk about your kids."

By the numbers

I just finished with our "six Saturdays" program, where we (instructors, or, in kid parlance, "teachers") each have the same kids for six weeks. My kids were four, all girls, and I had four of them--started with five but lost one along the way. Not literally. I didn't just leave her out there on the mountain. She just didn't come back for the last two sessions. Maybe it's something I said. ("You're adopted!")

These are local kids, not tourist kids. Yes, there is a difference, and it goes beyond whether or not they're dropped off by a nanny. The biggest difference is that I know a lot of their parents. In some cases, I know the kids, which makes teaching them waaaaay more fun for all of us.

But really, the best part about teaching kids to ski is that it's the perfect metaphor for life. No matter how hard you try to teach a kid (or anyone) something you know, you can't really teach them anything. All you can do is share what you know, and when it's ready to take, it will. Like teaching a four-year-old how to snowplow. There's really no way to explain this to a child. All you can do is say things like, "make a pizza" or "push your heels out." They'll keep wriggling and writhing, perhaps crying, and your job is to wait until they do it by accident and say, "That's it! Do that again!" Only they know what magic they used to make their bodies contort in just the right way. They can't explain it, but they can repeat it.

Now hear this

Trying to teach anything to a four-year-old is also a lesson in hearing. Mine and theirs. When I watch what they do in response to what I say, I realize that they're actually the best listeners in the world. If I'm not getting the response I want, it's probably because I'm not being clear, not because they're not able to understand.

For instance, sometimes I'll face a kid and make a "V" with my hands, with the tip pointing at them (because that's how my hands are designed). I'll say, "Make a pizza with your feet, like this." One day, a little boy kept doing it backwards, with his tails together instead of the tips, and hit feet kept sliding apart, and he kept falling. At first I thought he just didn't get it, like the other kids did. Then I realized he was doing exactly what I said--I had just wanted him to point the "V" in the other direction. Now I wonder how any of the others ever made sense of what I was doing.

I made the same mistake with my girls all season. I'd stand "across the hill," which means, to adults (who ski), that my skis were pointed across the hill, as opposed to downhill, which would send me off like a shot. But "across the hill" doesn't mean anything to a four-year-old. It's hard enough to explain it to an adult. Try explaining what it means to put your skis "across the fall line" or to "think about gravity" or "your edges will hold you." Meaningless. We usually like to tell kids to point their "skis to the trees" (we like rhymes--"no pee, so ski"), but that fails when a.) there are no trees, or b.) the trees are not actually across the hill from them but up or down hill.

So most of the time, I stand across the hill and tell them to make their skis like mine. I mean parallel, of course, but I slowly (I'm slow) realized that they would always seek to face the same direction as me. This frequently resulted in their pointing their skis straight up hill as they tried to turn around, which resulted in their sliding down hill, backwards. Come to think of it, the whole thing is a lot like a Charlie Chaplan movie, but in color and with tiny voices emitting from the tiny creatures, in a strange calm: "I'm slipping." Indeed you are. All of you. Simultaneously. In different directions. Fortunately, the vests we give them have handles on the back for just such an occasion. No accident there. Now I just have to choose which one of you to save.

More lessons in communication

The first trip all the way up the mountain with four four-year-olds can be a nightmare. Four-year-olds don't tell you that they're starting to get tired. They only broach the subject once they're through for the day, which is decidedly inconvenient if you're only halfway down the mountain. At that point, no amount of cookies can save the day. (Have you ever filled your pockets with cookies before skiing? It begs the question, "Do these cookies make me look fat?")

On my first day up with my class of little ladies, one girl hit the wall half way down. It's no surprise, really. They don't really know how to skate across the flats, so they try walking, which is shockingly inefficient. And slow. More with the Charlie Chaplan antics. With each step, they simply slide back into the same spot. They look like so many tiny mimes walking against the wind, burning all their energy by running in place. My girls somehow concluded that flapping their arms would generate forward thrust. Turns out it does! But not very well. Now they're mimes flapping against the wind. Four of them, all dressed in pink. Pink mimes flapping, not moving.

But I can't just go back and push them--there are too many of them, and you can't teach skating. You just have to let them figure it out. (Yes, you can give pointers--"spread the frosting"--but like the pizza, you have to wait until it happens accidentally. The more you do things for them, the longer it takes for them to figure it out. Think about it. Did you teach your kid to walk? "Now, make your legs straight, and stand vertical--that's perpendicular to the floor. One foot in front of the other, just like a ... human.")

Poor little Sadie (we'll call her Sadie, since that's her name) finally started crying and said, "I'm tired." So we stopped and ate cookies. Thus revived, we were off again. But alas, cookie energy only goes so far. Like, say, 100 yards. Sadie stopped in her tracks, literally, and started crying again and asking for her mother.

Now, here's where the learning comes in. My learning, not hers. My mind is thinking about one thing: how to get four little girls off the side of a 12,000-foot mountain in the 15 minutes I have left before their parents show up to pick them up. I have a mission, and it doesn't involve standing here. Meanwhile, the other three little girls, suddenly adult in their own frustration, are telling Sadie to stop crying and that we're trying to get to her mommy. Who coached them in diplomacy? Or annoyance?

C'mon Sadie, I'm thinking, while saying the same things as the other little girls. "We're almost there--we're almost to your mommy." Not working. Sadie won't budge. What did I expect? My response is the same as a four-year-olds.

Suddenly it dawns on me that through these tears, she's trying to tell me something. Oh, the mysteries of four-year-old communication! What does she want? Her mommy, obviously. Then I realize, she's actually already told me exactly what she wants. I just wasn't listening. Sadie, as she's already said, is tired. She wants to sit down. Her two little four-year-old legs are spent. They can't go another inch. Duh.

Now that I'm listening, I can stop treating her like an adult (and I can be one myself). I've been thinking, "You have to do this yourself--I can't carry all four of you down the mountain." But I realize, I don't have to carry all four down the mountain. Only one of them is tired. So I put her between my legs, and we snowplow our way to the bottom in a little line. Upon reaching the parents, Sadie collapses on the ground.

My next thought: "Shit. I'm in soooooo much trouble." But as luck would have it, parents are pretty much in a state of disbelief and awe upon learning their four-year-olds have just ridden the lift to the top of the mountain and skied down under their own power. Most of the way, at least. It's almost as if you just taught their kids to walk. More importantly, they're eternally grateful that their children will go to sleep immediately, and they'll have some time to themselves tonight.

And so goes my experience "teaching" skiing to these little people, giant heads bobbling atop tiny stick-figure bodies, a lesson in instability. The image is the perfect metaphor for life: Until we grow up, our gigantic heads make us really unstable.

Billions and billions served. (billions)

2008-10-10T13:38:00.000-07:00

So there's talk afoot of another economic stimulus plan. You know, this is the plan that gives us a $300 or $600 check in the mail. That's the benefit. Ever wonder about the cost?

The last economic stimulus plan, passed earlier this year, cost on the order of $152 billion immediately, or perhaps $124 billion over a ten-year period. (See below for why there isn't an exact number.)

Working with the $152 billion number, let's divide that by the population of the United States:

Let's see, $152 billion divided by 301,139,947 (the U.S. population according to the CIA in July 2007) ...

OK, first, a billion is so big my calculator can't register it. I have to use scientific notation.

The answer: $504.749

That's the cost, per 2007 U.S. citizen, of issuing the last economic stimulus package. If you received one of the $300 checks, it actually cost the government (that is, us) more to give you the money than the check itself was worth.

Let's play again with the $124 billion number: $411.769. It still cost more than the smaller checks.

(Someone please check my math. I'm bad at it. Especially in scientific notation.)

Now there's talk of another economic stimulus plan to cost on the order of another $150 billion. That's on top of the $700 billion Congress approved last week. It's also in addition to another $61 billion "to fund infrastructure projects, money for states' Medicaid costs, and unemployment assistance," according to cnn.com ("House Democrats plan second economic stimulus package" - dated today, Oct. 17). And that doesn't include this year's original $124 billion to $152 billion economic stimulus plan. And oh yeah. There's the war. In Iraq. And Afghanistan. And on terror. (Are we still at war with drugs? I could use some right now to choke down this bitter pill.)

I thought the $700 billion was supposed to stimulate the economy. Now the extra $61 billion for infrastructure? And another $150 billion economic stimulation? I'm not saying we don't need help in these areas. I'm just wondering about the numbers.

Where do we get off throwing around billions of dollars? Remember when a million seemed like a lot of money? It still seems like a lot of money to me. I feel like the nation is a college kid with a new credit card going on a spending spree. We do have to pay this money back eventually. But because it's all just numbers in the air, it seems like nothing.

Psychology of spending cash versus credit

It's the psychology of cash. When I pull a dollar or 10 or 50 out of my wallet (and it's rare that I have $50 in my wallet), I feel the effects of spending directly. I see the money disappearing. I know I'll be that many dollars shorter.

But when I plunk down my credit card, it doesn't feel so real. That's how so many Americans have gotten into such great debt (that and with mortgages they couldn't afford, but let's stick to credit cards for the moment).

The same is true when we hear about the government spending money. Yes, we get alarmed when we hear big numbers, especially when they're for projects we don't approve of. But do we really have any clue how much a billion dollars is? Do we really understand what it will take to pay that back?

Over the past several years, we keep hearing reports about college students accepting fantastic credit card offers, spending like it's Monopoly money and being driven to depression and even suicide once their bills come due. That's the first time they realize how much they've actually spent and what it will take to repay it. (For just one story, try cnn.com's "Credit card debt on campus," from July 14, 2008, by Jessica Dickler.)

So really, how much does the government spend? And how much is that out of our wallets? Do we really know what it will feel like when the creditors come calling, as they did with the college students? Isn't that where we are today?

I haven't heard the deficit numbers for this latest economic stimulus plan, but back in January, when Congress proposed the last one, it was estimated that the plan would bump the deficit to $250,000 billion dollars. (billion)

(From now on, whenever you hear the word "billion," imagine a high-pitched voice echoing the word really fast, as a rapid whisper of a reminder that we've just casually used a word with a not-so-casual implication. "billion." I'll represent that little voice with lowercase letters and the color red. Go ahead - say it out loud: "billion." Say it out loud every time I refer to a billion dollars in this blog. In fact, just throw it into casual conversation around the office or with friends. See what kind of response you get. billion.)

That was in January - just around the time Countrywide first announced its failure. (from cnn.com, "Taxpayers would get checks under economic stimulus plan," Jan. 24, 2008. Ahhh, Nancy Pelosi. See you in Congressional Hell.)

billion

Deficit y deuda!

Now, that's the deficit - the difference between what we have and what we're spending. In simple terms, if I have $100 in the bank, and I agree to spend $150, I'm creating a $50 deficit in the account.

What does America have in the bank? Well, nothing, I'm guessing. We're $1 trillion dollars in debt to China - trillion - we just borrowed another $700 billion, presumably from ourselves, and we even owe money to Mexico. Mexico! (mexico) In reality, my not-so-economically minded mind thinks that our deficit (or, theoretically, our surplus - ha!) is the difference between what we know we'll collect (call it tax revenue) and what we're opting to spend.

According to the Tax Policy Center (www.taxpolicycenter.org), the IRS collected $2,518,680,230 in 2006. That's about $2.5 billion. (billion) (Funny aside. There's a footnote that says this number includes "tax-exempt business income taxes." How does tax-exempt revenue generate tax revenue? Oh, the tangled web we weave.)

This number can't be right. Two years ago we collected $2.5 billion in total revenue, and we're pledging to borrow $700 billion? (billion) Somebody, please tell me there's a different number.

Of course, the ridiculousness of it would certainly explain how we can generate a deficit of $250 billion. (billion)

The clock is ticking

Which brings us to the next topic. When we overspend on the order of $250 billion a year, year after year after year, it adds up. Which is a nice segue into the issue of national debt, which is money we owe. Can anyone tell me if this includes money we owe to ourselves, or if it only includes what we owe to other countries?

Whatever the case, yesterday, the news stations reported that the national debt clock actually ran out of place holders for the amount of money we owe. They had to delete the dollar sign to make room for our reaching new indebtedness heights.

Your family's share? $86,017. Did you know you're an additional $86,017 in debt? I didn't know I was. But that's how much each American family would have to cough up to get out of debt today. (Yesterday, actually.) And the meter is running. It's spinning so fast we're running out of room on the national debt clock.

I like saying "national debt clock" because I didn't realize we had one. They're making plans to install two more place holders. That's like saying I need to add digits on my watch because time has grown so large. (For lovers of TMBG's "Particle Man": "He's got a watch with a minute hand, a millennium hand and an eon hand.")

What is the national debt? Well, yesterday, it hit $10,149,644,933,872.

The national debt is growing so large we're going to need Avogadro's number to comprehend it. Soon we'll be measuring "moles" of national debt. How appropos.

I can't even read off the national debt without working backwards. So, working backwards, that's hundreds (872), thousands (933), millions (644), billions (149) and trillions (10).

Go figure. A trillion dollars is so big my brain can't even recognize it. (trillion) Today, for the first time ever, I actually heard newscasters talking in terms of quadrillions. QUADRILLIONS! It sounds like a jig in a Lewis Carroll novel. But that's what the extra two place holders will account for when they install them. I wonder how many millions, billions or trillions of dollars the placeholders will cost.

I'm indebted to the collective memory

So when was the last time we had a balanced budget? If memory serves, it was under Clinton (and I'm not saying he was responsible - just a timeframe).

Here's an interesting story about that, from 2000:

http://archives.cnn.com/2000/ALLPOLITICS/stories/09/27/clinton.surplus/

From CNN's Sept. 27, 2000, "Clinton announces another record budget surplus"

It was around $230 billion. (billion)

The national debt was at $5.7 trillion. Still room for the dollar sign on the national debt clock.

Really, it's an article worth reading. Interesting numbers. Here's the last paragraph:

"The federal budget surplus for fiscal year 1999 was $122.7 billion, and $69.2 billion for fiscal year 1998. Those back-to-back surpluses, the first since 1957, allowed the Treasury to pay down $138 billion in national debt."

So, we actually had surpluses in the '50s. No wonder June Cleaver was so happy.

Here's a nice link showing the national debt every year back to 1950, when it was still in the billions. Wow! Who knew we had billions back then? I didn't think we invented billions until the era of Dynasty and junk bonds. billions In fact, the last time the national debt was less than a billion dollars was under Abe Lincoln. Guess what launched us into debt that time? The billion dollar answer: The Civil War. war.

The national debt hit its all-time low of $33,733.05 (thousand) in 1835 under Andrew Jackson. We put him on the $20 bill. No, we didn't impeach him. That was Andrew Johnson.

Some interesting notes on Jackson, the president credited with the lowest debt:

He got rid of a presumptive national bank. Kind of the opposite of what we're doing with that $700 billion by buying shares of banks. (Apparently Jackson was a bad-ass. Learn more at whitehouse.gov/history/presidents/aj7.html. Of course, that's the official government version.)

Here's the link to the history of our national debt:

www.treasurydirect.gov/govt/reports/pd/histdebt/histdebt.htm

Let's recap

Ten years ago, we were paying down a $5.7 trillion debt by $138 billion. In 2000, we reduced it by another $223 billion, for a total of about $360 billion. How? With budget surpluses of $230 billion, $122.7 billion and $69.2 billion. trillion billion billion billion billion billion (Wow - say that out loud in the tiny voice. You'll sound like a slot machine. Coincidence? I think not!)

2000 national debt:

$5.7 trillion

1998-2000 surpluses:

$69.2 billion

$122.7 billion

$230 billion

Fast forward:

Today, we've ratcheted the national debt back up to $10.1 billion. Our expected deficit in January was $250 billion, and we just borrowed another $700 billion (billion), plus the $61 billion for infrastructure and medicare, plus talk of another $150 billion economic stimulus. That adds nearly 10 percent to the $10.1 billion figure.

2008 national debt:

$10.1 trillion

2008 deficit:

$88 billion in the first four months of the year, double the rate of the previous year.

We are so going in the wrong direction.

OK, that's my rant for today, but I want to leave you with an explanation - or lack thereof - of what these economic stimulus packages cost us (and a reference).

Economic surplus explanation - sort of

Now, for some reason, I can't paste websites into my blog. I have to type them in. That's why I've mostly been telling you where to link. (I can paste when I'm on a PC, but I use a Mac. Can anyone help me?)

So here's how to find out what the last economic stimulus package cost, and why it's not as simple as giving a dollar value: Look up "Economic Stimulus Act of 2008 on Wikipedia, then scroll down to the footnotes. The third footnote links to the Congressional Budget Office report on its cost.

Here's how the report explains it:

"In total, those changes would increase budget deficits (or reduce future surpluses) by $152 billion in 2008 and by a net amount of $124 billion over the 2008-2018 period."

Changes in budget deficits do not equate, exactly, to direct costs. I'll let someone else explain that. For a breakdown of actual costs and changes in deficit/surplus, see the budget office's report yourself.

Why not just read Wikipedia? Although Wiki is a great starting point to find info, it's not fact-checked, and there are lots of mistakes. There's one in the first paragraph of the Economic Stimulus Act of 2008 entry.

Wiki tells us the cost will be $152 billion in 2008 with an additional $124 billion over 10 years. That's not what the budget office report says. First, these billions of dollars are not in direct expenses. The change increase in deficit or decrease in surplus (yeah, right, surplus) account for lost revenue, not just spending, and I'm sure a bunch of other stuff. Wiki missed that. Splitting hairs? Sort of, but for clarity's sake ...

The second mistake is the additional $124 billion over 10 years. As I read it, because we're talking about changes in deficit/surplus rather than actual dollars, that change changes over time. Over ten years, the $152 billion actually shrinks to $124 billion - this is not an addition.

billion.

Why seniors shouldn't get to vote and other election reforms

2008-10-06T11:50:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I know. It's a bold statement.

But this morning, I was having a conversation with my 73-year-old mother about the bailout package. After numerous attempts to make her point by saying that "some people" believe this and "some people" believe that, I asked her who these "some people" were. Could she name any of them? Could she quote a credible news source? Or is she really just making up a group of people and assigning beliefs to them - her beliefs - so that she doesn't actually have to stand behind her beliefs, or to give her beliefs credibility by suggesting that there are a lot of people who believe this.

Now, normally my mother is quite good at quoting her sources. She reads the WSJ cover to cover every day (she's retired), not to mention a slew of other periodicals ranging from the Economist to the Atlantic to several local newspapers. She's a smart lady.

That's how I know to cry "bullshit" when she starts quoting "some people."

But when I dismantled her ploy, she turned to a different ploy. She adopted a "what do I care attitude."

"Why should I care," she told me. "You young people are the ones who are going to have to deal with this mess."

I realized, she's right. And it dawned on me, if people her age won't be around to suffer the consequences, why should they be allowed to vote?

There's a minimum voting age of 18. Maybe there should be a maximum voting age. Maybe anyone who's begun to draw social security. Or maybe once they turn 70 - which would rule out McCain as well as my mom. And probably a good portion of Congress.

Now that I think about it, before my father died, he spent six years in various nursing homes in a state of continuing decline suffering from dementia. I wonder if he voted. If he did, how? And who made that decision for him? Ultimately, in the midst of all the medical decisions and hospital bills, I'd be surprised if we would have thought about his right to vote. But in hindsight, it's something that probably would have been very important to him. It certainly was before he got sick. I recall with fondness and irony his comment the second time Clinton was elected: "I can't stand to look at that man's face for another four years."

He got his revenge. The rest of us have had to look at G.Bu's face for eight years. It's a shame my father wasn't around to enjoy it. Clinton was still in office when he died.

Now, I wouldn't seriously argue that my mom or any seniors - even my father in his deteriorated state - shouldn't get to vote. It's the cornerstone of what we say our country was founded on. (Although we all seem to have different ideas about that.)

But it raises a good question. Why should someone who won't feel the effects, good or bad, be allowed to take part in the decision?

Maybe it's time to completely restructure the mechanism of our government. The idea of government through representation was born of an era when people lived so far from their government that their individual voices couldn't be heard. They needed someone to speak on their behalf. And the idea was that an elected official represented the beliefs and opinions of those he represented, rather today's system of jockeying for position on this bill or that, trading votes and scratching backs.

But in today's age of technology, why not have a monthly election on all bills before Congress. We can let them go ahead and argue and tangle all they want, draft whatever they will and then let us, the people, make the final decision, yay or nay.

It would be interesting to see if the American people would veto this bailout package. Ironically, uniform opposition to dumping $700 billion onto this credit conflagration seems to be the one issue that's united Americans in years. Even people who agree something needs to be done are shaking their heads at this plan.

So let's all read it, every last hundredth page, and let's play Congressman for a Day. Would you veto it? Why? Because of the fundamentals that give Sec. of the Treasury Paulson complete discretion to do whatever he wants without fear of impunity for any reason at any time? Because it turns so many banks into government institutions and gives the government complete access to information that was once private (except, perhaps, under the Patriot Act)? Or maybe you support the fundamentals, but you don't think this is the place to make special provisions for people who invest in American Samoa or who own NASCAR race tracks.

Here's one link to an article on these "sweeteners":

deepbackground.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2008/10/03/1489413.aspx

It has links to the Taxpayers for Common Sense website, which offers a nice rundown of some of these sweeteners. I'll look at those in another post.

But for now, back to the idea of veto power for the American people.

Naturally, we'd have to work out some of the snags, probably in Florida, primarily (those pesky seniors). But once we worked past that, we could take a cue from our friends Down Under and make voting mandatory. We'd have to build voting centers and hire permanent monitors - hey, that's just more jobs. But once a month, everyone would have to head down to the polls to approve or disapprove of whatever Congress has set forth.

Of course, something else would have to change - something that should be changed anyway. Riders. There should be none. This is another issue most of America seems to agree upon - we hate them. So why are riders still around? Probably because the first interest of any Congressman or -woman is to get re-elected, and this might be the only way to get anything for their constituents. What we often call pork is sometimes very important to a small sector of society. That doesn't mean it belongs in a rider. It should stand on its own merit. But I'll post on that later.

So if we each get to - or have to - vote on all measures such as the bailout package, first we'd have to make all the language digestible to the average American - which is an incentive to shorten the bills (again, no riders) and simplify the language - and improve American education.

So getting rid of riders is an important part of making bills available for the American public to understand. We don't have time to read several hundred pages of each bill before Congress. Neither to they, by the way. How many Congressmen and -women do you think actually read every word of the bailout bill? Half of them can't even show up to vote. What makes you think they're going to read this stuff? These unwieldy bills are one of the reasons America's government is so inaccessible to the people.

So if we could come up with a way to make sure all Americans are informed about every bill that comes before Congress - and before them personally at a monthly vote - not only would we have the most accurate representation of constituent opinions, we'd all be a lot more informed about what the government is up to.

Of blame and greed and other American virtues

2008-09-29T11:13:00.000-07:00

First, a shout-out to my one and only reader - thanks for playing! And commenting! It's nice to know you're out there.

Now, back to the bailout.

What I didn't get to before the new package hit the streets (and I don't know the specifics of what's in it yet) is the need for small businesses (any businesses) to be able to borrow.

My last post went into the idea that maybe we don't need to be borrowing more and going further and further into debt. But some businesses live on credit to fill the gap between buying and selling. If they can't borrow to buy their products, they won't have anything to sell to their customers. Likewise with services. Even a doctor might have trouble setting up shop if he can't borrow to buy the equipment and rent the space to see the patients who will eventually pay for the equipment and the space. But he needs the equipment and the space first.

So, I hope that our discussions about making sure there's money to lend are focused in this general direction, not in the direction of making sure people can still borrow more than they should for homes they can't really afford. (See last post.)

"But what of the blame and greed of which you speak in the title?" You ask.

Well, I'm thinking about a photo in the New York Times that ran as soon as lawmakers announced they'd reached a deal late Saturday evening, I believe. Sadly, I can't find the photo now.

But the faces of the people in the photo - Nancy Pelosi, Barney Frank and Henry Paulson - were egregiously inappropriate for what they'd just accomplished. They had grins on their faces as if they'd just won the Super Bowl.

Now, I'm happy that they were able to reach an agreement, but it's not like they've just signed a deal, after much negotiation, to QB in the NFL. Reaching an agreement in this instance is still a moment to be mourned. It's more akin to reaching a plea deal on an embezzling charge. The smiles were out of place.

I realize it was late and they'd been bargaining for days, so I'll cut them some slack. But I just have disdain for the victory lap that lawmakers on both sides of the political spectrum likely will try to take for this. Just as I have disdain for the people who try to blame one party or the other for getting into this mess in the first place.

First and foremost, the blame lies with the subprime lenders who lent money to people they knew couldn't pay it back, knowing that they wouldn't be around to care when these people defaulted - they'd sold the loans by then, and it was the banks that have to deal with the foreclosures (which is why so many banks, not just mortgage lenders, are going under). Shame on the banks for not doing their homework. If anyone should have seen these bundled subprime mortgages were a bad buy, it should have been bankers.

"But what of the lack of regulation," you ask? "Can't we blame the Democrats or the Republicans for that?"

Well, if we want to waste our time while the house is burning, sure. But we have to blame both of them. I mean really, are we actually dumb enough in this day and age to believe that when McCain's camp points the finger at Obama and the Democrats, or Obama's camp points to McCain and the Republicans, that this isn't just posturing to earn favor in the election? Do we really expect one side to cop to their involvement? Probably not without making sure we see that the other side had a hand in it. We all see through it. Yet we all seem to take part in it when it happens.

I can't stand the finger pointing on either side. If you've been reading my posts, you know that I'm not a fan of McCain, but that doesn't make me a Democrat. I just don't like the dishonesty - I won't go into those details here. (We'll save that for another post.)

Consider this:

Let's say you have two kids, we'll call them Johnny, 9, and Baracky, 8. They are running in the house and knock over a candle and set the house on fire. Now, Johnny points to Baracky and says, "It's his fault - he started the chase." And Baracky points back to Johnny and says, "It's his fault - he hit the candle."

Now, first of all, you're not going to let your kids get away with this. They were both running in the house, and they were both party to causing the damage.

But more importantly, before you bother with that, you're going to say, "Kids (and I do mean kids), the house is on fire, and we need to get out."

There will be no talk of blame.

If you are wise, later on, when you do begin to talk of responsibility, not blame, you'll legitimately try to understand how, exactly, it came about and help everyone understand how not to achieve the same end in the future.

It may seem a strange place to invoke Abraham Lincoln - or not. But his "a house divided cannot stand" speech was essentially talking about this.

More important than the details of the bailout is the message that these partisan politics continue to rip us apart, and they stand in the way of any mature, productive dialogue - until the house is on fire. Make that the House is on fire. Make that Nancy Pelosi's on fire. I digress.

In Congress, as in personal relationships, everybody makes mistakes. Most of us are doing the best that we can, and hindsight is 20/20. But if I make a mistake, and you chastise me and hold it over my head and act as if you've never done the same, I'm really never going to want to deal with you, am I.

And this is what American politics have come to: a maturity level that's somewhere around the junior high level. Some of the antics we see on the national stage (like distorting the "lipstick on a pig" comment) wouldn't fly in an 8th grade civics class. We wouldn't allow that behavior from our 13-year-old children, but we dive right in when it comes to potential presidents, leaders of nations. Absurd. And we're just as guilty for taking part as anyone who takes the lead.

It's long past time to try to understand what's important to people other than ourselves and to seek solutions that can meet everybody's needs. That requires compromise. But we can't accomplish anything if we view other people as enemies - my God, I hear that phrase all the time, as if Republicans and Democrats are enemies! We're supposed to be swearing allegiance to one nation, but we're enemies beneath one flag? Please.

I don't know when Lincoln delivered his "house divided" speech - during or after the Civil War. But I do know that after the war, against the wishes of many Northerners, he insisted there be no retribution for the South. Why? Because a house divided will not stand. If we treat one group of people as a conquered people, we make enemies of them, and we will never be united.

And so goes American politics today. Whoever wins the election, I'm sure we can expect speeches and celebrations along the lines of "Thank God we defeated the other side!" This will be a travesty.

The tone after the election should be the same as the tone should be now, as we reach a bailout agreement. This is not a time to celebrate. It is a time to get down to brass tacks and let go of the petty politics and egos that are behind not just the mortgage mess but the entire political mess that engages us for two out of every four years of a presidential term.

I won't hold my breath.