The Wall Street Doughboy

  
The Wall Street Journal reported that Hedge Fund Manager John Paulson earned a record $5 billion in individual income during 2010, so I got out my calculator and crunched the numbers:

$5 billion in one year is equal to $13.7 million per day, or $571 thousand per hour, or $9.5 thousand per minute, or $158 per second. But wait, those figures are only valid if you consider him to be at work 24-7-365. Hey even this guy’s got to sleep and spend some quality time with the family, so if you recalculate those numbers based on a 40 hour per week salary (including golf meetings and paid vacations) the amount he was paid for his invaluable services in 2010 was in excess of $2.4 million per hour, or $40 thousand per minute, or $667 per second.

Yes I know, most weeks Mr. Paulson probably puts in more than his 40 hours at the office/golf course/yacht club, but as all of us who've been in management know, when you go on salary you get screwed, so let’s cry some crocodile tears for poor John. Go ahead, go get your Kleenex, and when you get back I’ll show you some fun comparison’s between John’s life and ours.

Fun comparisons:
The average human heart rate is 70 – 80 beats per minute.
...John gets paid over $500 per beat.
The average person blinks every 4 seconds.
...For John that’s $2,668 per blink.
It takes 45 seconds to microwave a hot dog.
...That’s $30 thousand to wait for the ping.
If it took you a minute and a half to read this, collect $60,000.00
...Oh wait, if you’re not John Paulson collect zero.

Important tax note:
80% of John’s earnings were paid in capital gains, so luckily his tax burden will be minimal, and if Republicans get their way, soon capital gains won’t be taxed at all. Won’t that be nice? Maybe then John can go out and buy that small country he’s always wanted.
    

Pioneers

 

Sometimes when I see a jet fly over, or watch the space shuttle on TV I think “I wonder what it would be like if Orville and Wilbur could be brought back to life to witness this.” What would they think? Surely they’d be thrilled beyond belief.

And I wonder what it would be like to take Leonardo da Vinci to the Smithsonian for an afternoon to show him how far we’ve come? Would he be impressed? Would he be surprised and pleased that we remembered to credit him with inventing the delta wing, the hydraulic pump, and so many other things that we use in modern engineering today?

Similarly on the night that Barack Obama was elected I remember thinking what millions of others must have been thinking, “I wish Martin Luther King Jr. could witness this moment.” I thought of how proud and happy he would have been. Of course looking back on it now, it would have been merciful to have returned him to the grave soon after, because I’m sure that after the high of that night the amount of bigotry and racism that arose so quickly after the election from communities all around this country would have saddened Martin greatly. I know it has saddened me.

I hope that someday before I die I can once again think “I wish Martin Luther King Jr. could witness this moment.” Until then, rest in peace Martin. You’re work is finished. America’s work ineptly continues.

A Gun Owner's Rant

  

Regarding the viral facebook message that begins with “To everyone who is calling for stricter gun laws in light of the tragedy in Tuscon,” and ends with “if guns are outlawed - only outlaws will have guns!!!”

Folks, “regulating” does not equal “outlawing.” Conflating these two things is an overused NRA tactic that works very well on weak and paranoid minds, but it has no basis in reality. When is the last time our government regulated something as a first step toward outlawing it? That's okay, I’ll wait…........ Well? Considering the fact that unwarranted wiretaps, and secret searches of American citizens by former President what’s-his-name didn’t bother the NRA crowd you wouldn’t think the mere thought of regulating little things like 30 round clips for semi-automatic handguns would upset them, but it does, and how! Just try using your first amendment rights to quiz them about their second amendment rights and you’ll find out how. Yep, they’ll be in your face as fast, loud, and dumb as Billy the Kid’s six-shooter (Believe me. I’ve had that conversation a couple of times now.)

Remember all you Palinite’s, the Second Amendment wasn't written with semiautomatic handguns, and 30 round clips in mind. That’s right, read it yourself. It was written so that “well regulated” militias when needed could show up with flintlock rifles instead of pitchforks to defend us against the British, or French, or whoever else might be pissed off at us. This was important at the time because we didn’t (nor did our founding fathers intend us to have) a standing army.

So why are we so against regulating, and especially against licensing guns when we regulate and license cars, trailers, boats, pets, etc? I’d gladly license my guns if I could get out of permitting my damn carport! For crying out loud, I need a license to wield a clam gun in this state …but not a Glock (unless of course I want to shoot a clam with it.) How ‘bout we consider the possibility that regulations and guns can coexist ...You know like cars and speed limits, or parachutes and ripcords, or are we against preventing senseless deaths?

And by the way, nobody’s even seriously talking about licensing guns in this recent discussion of common sense gun regulations. They’re just talking about possibly reinstating the assault weapons ban. You know, the Bush supported ban that may have saved half the people gunned down in Arizona last week if we hadn't let it expire. That ban is kind of like the ban on driving monster trucks on the freeway (it won’t outlaw “normal” hunting and sporting weapons.) There’s also talk of asking people not to bring guns to political rallies, or places deemed dangerous by local municipalities (like inside taverns for example.) That ban is kind of like saying you can’t drive your car INSIDE the mall. Again it doesn’t take away your weapons. It just says park them outside.

For the record, I’m a gun owner. I like being able to legally have my guns, but I don't feel a need to keep an arsenal. Nor do I have any desire to tote them around in public for the illusion (or delusion) of safety, or worse intimidation. I feel that owning guns is a responsibility as well as a right, and having them without having to show up for militia duty is a privilege …one that I don’t take lightly.

Oh, and one more thing: Maybe we should consider not selling guns to psychotics. I know it won’t stop all the Jared Laughner’s out there from acquiring a gun somehow but shouldn’t we at least make it harder for guys like Hinckley, Chapman, and now Laughner to purchase a gun? We don’t want drunks on our roads, or pedophiles on our playgrounds, so why do we accept heavily armed psychotics on our sidewalks? Just wondering?

Okay, I’m done yammering (for now.) Have a safe day everyone :)

Fabric Softener

You live with someone for over twenty years, and then all of a sudden they change on you. That’s right, my wife recently started adding fabric softener to the towel loads! Do you have any idea what fabric softener does to a perfectly good functional towel? Well if you’ve never experienced the horror of it, I’ll tell you. It turns what was once a useful drying cloth into a plush piece of material as soft as a baby’s butt, and just as absorbent. Think about it …if baby’s butts were absorbent they wouldn’t need diapers would they? So here I am, soaking wet in front of the shower trying to dry myself off with the cotton equivalent of an infant’s behind when my wife says “Aren’t those towels soft?” “What the... what did you do, spray them with Scotchgard?” I asked “All I’m doin’ is pushing water around over here!” “...But aren’t they soft?” she continued. “Yeah, soft as a butterfly’s wing” I said “But they’re ruined!! …er, I mean yes dear, they’re very soft.”

Then the next day we’re at the grocery store, so I sneak over to the cleaning section and ask the guy stocking the shelves “Hey, do you have any fabric unsoftener?” He said “Aren’t you the guy who was looking for a stud finder finder a few weeks ago?” “Yeah, that was me …hey, you used to work over at Home Depot, right?” “Yeah, used to” he said, then he started looking real edgy “I got fired for calling a customer a moron!” “Oh, sorry to hear that” I said “but about the fabric unsoftener…” Then he started turning bright red, so I said ”Never mind, I’ll go look for it myself.” Just then my wife came around the corner, and tossed a jug of fabric softener into the cart.

As it turns out, a lot of things I need haven’t been invented yet, so until technology catches up with my lifestyle, I’m keeping a small pile of scratchy absorbent towels separate from the rest of the laundry.
 

Only the Hemlocks

  
Raindrops splash on a dashboard Jesus.
The coroner’s van sits black as a crow.
Streetlight halos hang empty of angels.
While hemlocks watch over the chaos below.

Over water and blood and gas and oil,
Over hush of death, and hand of fate,
Over waning cries, and tears and toil,
As they flow into the culvert’s grate.

Into the blackness, toward the ocean,
Back to the place where life began,
And what remains is towed away,
Or placed into the waiting van.

And only the hemlocks stand in witness,
As flashing lights at dawn abate,
And as painted roadside crosses fade,
Only the hemlocks wait.
  

Hanging the Ivy (A week in the life of a handy man)

Monday

I went to Home Depot today and told the sales guy I wanted to buy a stud finder finder. He said “You mean a stud finder?” I said “No, I already have one of those. I just don’t know where I left it.” Well to make a long story short, customer service is NOT a top priority at this place. Okay “Mr. Tool-man” that condescending attitude just cost you a customer. Geez, Sometimes I think those orange vests go straight to their heads!

Tuesday

I went to Lowe’s today and told the young sales lady I needed a stud finder, but I wasn’t about to buy one from those knuckleheads over at Home Depot. She smiled knowingly and said “If you’re looking for a stud, all you need is a mirror.” Oh yeah, the service is way better here at Lowe’s …way better! I followed her down the aisle, finished my shopping, and filled out a glowing comment card. Then half way home I realized …oh crap! Now I have to explain to my wife why I bought this dang mirror, and I have to find a place to hang it …but before can I hang it, I need to go buy a stud finder.

Thursday

Okay, today I’m standing on the edge the bathtub holding my new top of the line electronic stud finder, with built in voltage detector (purchased yesterday at Ace Hardware.) I position the stud finder against the wall, just above a window where I’ve been planning all week to mount some decorative cast iron hanging plant brackets, so that soon my sickly green ivy plants will be flourishing over a steamy Jacuzzi tub as they swing in the late afternoon sun. I press the button and begin scanning the wall in great anticipation only to have the Studmaster 3000 blurt out “Whoa, dude, there’s nothing behind this sheetrock but a bunch of hot wires, and maybe a little wood here, and a chunk over there. I wouldn’t hang a picture of my mother-in-law on this wall! …let alone those heavy brackets.”

And so here my story ends …with a new stud finder, and some nice iron brackets (and a full length mirror, if you believed that part of the story) all being hauled out to the garage, to be added to that pile of stuff that I might need someday. I guess I’ll go to Home Depot tomorrow to buy some of those cheap ceiling hooks for my disappointed ivy plants.

”Come on, stop pouting ivy. Just another day or two on the floor, then you’ll be livin’ the high life …I promise.”

“Sounds like more fertilizer to me” mumbled one of the plants.

”Hmmmph!” said the other.
  

November Recall

  
My unsettled thoughts
seem to stir in November.
I wonder, do you have
a month that you dread?

A time or a season
when angels forsake you,
to gather in valleys,
with wings to be shed.

When hope turns to sand
sifting fast through your fingers,
cascading o'er beaches
where memories still play.

Where you walked to your future,
and followed your own path,
and left your own footprints
that waves swept away.

And I wonder today,
could you swim in that ocean,
on the blackest of nights
without any fear?

And the wind on my neck
coldly curls up to whisper
in the voice of a memory,
“November is here".