Friday, October 03, 2008

She Doesn't Look So Hot Now, Does She?

I missed the debate Thursday night-- we had the Cubs' awful playoff game on at work-- but I've been reading about it since.

I knew that the Republicans would be working with her intensely so that she wouldn't come off so dreadfully as she has nearly every other time she's had to deal with the public or press.

The basic consensus with the pundits seems to be that she wasn't as awful as everybody was afraid (or hopeful) that she'd be.

Why does the phrase "Damning with faint praise" come to mind?

The "Get What You Wish For" Friday Random Ten

In a recent post, I was lamenting the fact that my son's schedule is making it difficult to spend time with him. I hardly got to see him last weekend, and with his homecoming and band next weekend, I was hardly going to see him then either.

I'd told him a while back that now that he is older, he can tell his mother if he wants to change the schedule of spending time at his two homes. He exercised that option, apparently, and I got a call last night telling me the he wanted to switch the schedule around to be here this weekend. I was very happy about that.

Tonight, my family will visit a friend's gallery and head over to Chinatown for dinner. It'll be nice to have us all together.


1. Coconut Water- Robert Mitchum
2. You Ain't Woman Enough To Take My Man- Loretta Lynn
3. Johnny Be Goode- Chuck Berry
4. Complete Control- The Clash
5. Amelia- Joni Mitchell
6. Have a Cigar- Pink Floyd
7. Skip A Rope- Henson Cargill
8. California Dreamin'- The Mamas and The Papas
9. So Caught Up In You- .38 Special
10. Dog Food- Iggy Pop



Notes:
1. Yes, that Robert Mitchum. He put out a pretty passable calypso album.
2. You play the Loretta Lynn record backwards and her man comes back, she gets her house back, etc.
3. From the father of rock and roll.
4. The Clash ripping on their record company.
5. From "Hejira," one of my desert island albums.
6. Pink Floyd ripping on their record company. I think it was CBS records, the same as the Clash.
7. Here's a rarity-- a country song that has liberal social commentary. Henson Cargill passed away last year.
8. I never get tired of this song. Jose Feliciano also did a really nice cover of it.
9. Okay, guilty pleasure here. Reminds me of hanging with townies in my college town playing pool. This was written by Jim Peterik, who wrote and performed the Ides of March's great "Vehicle."
10. "I'm livin' on dog food" "So what?"

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

The Thing That Makes Me Almost As Happy As The Cubs Going To The Playoffs

Let me be upfront about something. I hate New York Yankees owner George Steinbrenner.

How much do I hate Steinbrenner? There are only two people in New York who I hate worse than Steinbrenner: Donald Trump and Rudy Guiliani. That's how much.

Year after year Steinbrenner spends huge amounts of money and buys all the good players. Arod? Got him. Randy Johnson? Had him, then dumped him. Andy Pettite? Check. Ivan Rodriquez? Brought him over to the dark side too. Johnny Damon? Yeah, but make sure he cuts his hair and has his soul removed.

Steinbrenner is like that jerk at your high school with the rich parents who drives the Camaro to school and flaunts it. Year after year, the Yankees spend as much as any three other teams do on payroll.

Yet, what are the results? Quick: when was the last time the Yankees were in the World Series? That's right, 2001. And they lost that one. All the money, and no trophy for George. Boo hoo.

And this year is special. First, the Yankees lost their division and never even made it to the playoffs. Better yet, they lost the division to the Tampa Bay Rays, a team with a salary a fraction of theirs. Money can't buy you love, nor a playoff berth.

Even better, tonight here in Chicago, there'll be a National League playoff game. The managers of the two teams will be two guys who've had the misfortune to work for George Steinbrenner as managers of the Yankees, the Cubs' Lou Piniella and the Dodgers' Joe Torre. Torre was unceremoniously dumped last year as Yankees' manager and here he is in his first year as the Dodgers' manager bringing them to the playoffs.

Suck it George.

Oh, And One More Thing...

HOLY SHIT! THE CUBS ARE IN THE PLAYOFFS!

There, just had to get that out of my system.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Cats In The Cradle

Years ago, when my son was a baby, my father cautioned me make sure to remember that you get your kids for such a tiny portion of their lives, ultimately. Before you know it, they're in high school and college and they become more and more independent and you become a smaller and smaller part of their lives.

He also told me about how a song, Harry Chapin's "Cats In the Cradle," had had an effect on his life.

As my brothers and I approached college age, my father accepted a management position at the big computer company he worked most of his career at. The idea was that it would enable him to help us pay for college.

It was, in a word, horrendous. Because he was on salary, he went from working forty hours a week with either time and a half or comp time for overtime to a regular workweek that was sixty hours or more. He would regularly get phone calls in the middle of the night over some emergency or another. His health-- physical and mental-- was deteriorating fast. He was rarely around, and when he was, he was a mess.

Years later, he told me that he'd made the decision to leave management after hearing a song on the radio-- Harry Chapin's "Cats In the Cradle."

Most of you are probably familiar with the song. It's the tale of a father too busy with his career to take a meaningful part in raising his son.

My son turned ten just the other day
He said, "Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on let's play
Can you teach me to throw", I said "Not today
I got a lot to do", he said, "That's ok"
And he walked away but his smile never dimmed
And said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah
You know I'm gonna be like him"


As the father misses one milestone after another in his son's life, the son grows up determined to be like him. As the father grows old and retires, he tries to make up for the time lost. But his son is busy with his life and doesn't have the time for him. At the end of the song, the narrator has the sad realization that his son has grown up to be just like him.

This was supposed to be a weekend with my son, but he had no fewer than three events for band at his high school. I managed to fit in a lunch-- our usual Chinese buffet-- on Saturday afternoon. Afterward, I realized that the time my father had told me about was here. From here on out, it'll be a struggle to get our time in together. It's the way of life.

After that lunch, I thought back to every time in his childhood I played with him-- Candyland, checkers, chess, Monopoly, basketball, baseball catch, Risk-- no matter how tired I was. I knew that my ex did none of these things with him.

From here on out, the other priorities are going to creep into his life-- school, band and eventually work and girls. As you might guess, I'm both happy and sad about it. I'm happy that after dealing with so much crap-- an ugly custody fight, particularly-- that he's an astoundingly normal and happy teenager. There are a million moments of his childhood that I remember, trying to connect them with the intelligent young man who talked about the "polytheistic religions that the Greeks and Romans had" in recent conversation we had. I'm sad to see my little boy fade away, but happy to see the young man who's ready to take on life's challenges. And I'm happy that I have no regrets. I'm glad I took my dad's-- and Harry Chapin's-- warnings to heart.

Here's a clip of Chapin doing "Cats In The Cradle" on Soundstage, here in Chicago, in the mid-seventies.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Mother of the Year Award

One of the accomodations to my new life as a middle-aged college student was going to work full time as a waiter. It made sense-- the hours work out for childcare and school, and I generally like the job. It's a good job if you like people.

The downside of it is that you deal with whoever has the money to come into the restaurant. This is generally not a problem. I like most of our "regulars." In nearly thirty years of being a waiter on and off, the place I currently work at has by far the most nice (and generous) regulars.

There are a small handful of regulars that all of us dislike. And each of us has a few who really get on our nerves. Last night, one of the ones in that category came in. She comes in about once a month with her son, who is about 12 or 13. He's a nice kid-- polite and well-spoken. She's an attractive blonde who's probably in her late thirties. I'm pretty certain she's a single mother.

My beef? She's a shitty tipper. Her tips generally run between 8 to 12%. With her being a single mom, I might even be inclined to overlook that. Having done the single parent thing myself for a long stretch, I can certainly empathize. Here's the thing: she'll always have a couple of martinis made with "top shelf" vodka. She's got the dough for a couple of ten dollar martinis, but not to take care of the server.

Last night she won the Johnny Yen "Mother of the Year" award.

She was seated, as usual, on the patio, where I was working last night. She ordered her usual Grey Goose martini, "up" (chilled, but no ice in the drink) with blue cheese olives. Her son ordered hot tea.

I brought them their drinks and gave them a few minutes to peruse the menus.

When I went back to the table, her son ordered a grilled chicken sandwich. I asked him which side dish he wanted. He asked if he could get a salad with it rather than french fries. I was impressed that he was making such a good dietary choice. The salad was available, I told him. Just to make sure his mother knew, I mentioned that there was a $2.00 upcharge on it if you had a salad as a side dish.

"Oh, well then no, you can't have it," she informed her son.

Yeah, lady-- you've got two bucks to make your martini a "top shelf" one, but not two bucks so your kid can eat more healthily. Friggin' Mother of the Year, you are.

Oh, and her tip was about 12%.

Friday, September 26, 2008

It's A Simple Game

All right, so far I've kept pretty quiet on the whole bank meltdown. I've been mulling this post in my head since reading my old friend Deadspot's excellent post on what he wants out of the bailout.

See the book at the top of this post? It's Adam Smith's classic "The Wealth of Nations," which was first published in 1776. It's sort of an owner's manual for capitalism. Unlike most people, including, presumably, most people working in on Wall Street and the banking industry, I've actually read it. I read it for an assignment in an Economics class in college and wrote a paper on it.

Remember in the movie Bull Durham where Trey Wilson's character, manager Joe Riggins, throws a tirade at the slumping Durham Bulls? He tosses an armload of bats across the locker room and yells at the players:

"This is a simple game. You throw the ball, you hit the ball, you catch the ball. You got that?!"

Adam Smith lays it out just like Joe Riggins. You get the materials. You hire some workers. You produce something. You sell it for more than the cost of labor and materials that you paid for. Your reward for your trouble is the difference between the costs of production and what you sell it for. It's called "profit."

Yet, somehow capitalists can't seem to manage to get it right. It's a simple game. Produce something someone wants to buy and sell it for more than it cost you. Or loan out some money with the anticipation of being paid back with some interest. Or lease or rent something you own for more than it cost you. Simple, right?

But if you read the Wall Street Journal or the business pages of the New York Times, you enter an alternate universe of bizarre economics. Hedge funds. Futures. Derivatives. "Flipping" property.

Reading about these guys, 28-year-old hedge fund managers who live in mansions on Martha's Vineyard, you got the impression that actually producing something seemed to be looked on as a sucker's game. The really big money was in the high stakes gambling of buying and selling increasingly amounts of precarious debt, debt that in their perverse universe got more valuble the riskier it was.

These people apparently have the attention span of four-year-olds. Remember the internet bubble, less than ten years ago? Remember how internet stock values rose and rose, until they defied the ability of even the best-performing companies to deliver a profit even remotely commensurate with the inflated stock values?

And of course they brought the rest of the stock market down with them, especially after 9/11. My parents, who were getting ready to retire, watched in horror as their retirement portfolio lost over a third of its value.

We keep learning the same lessons-- or maybe not-- over and over again. Remember the collapse of the Savings and Loan industry in the eighties? That cost us $500 billion to bail out that one. They keep making the same mistake, for hundreds of years, it turns out. The first time this happened in Western society was the Tulip Bubble of the 1600's in the Netherlands.

The tulip was first imported to Europe from Turkey, then part of the Ottoman Empire, in the late 1500's. Since tulips were able to tolerate the rough weather of Northern Europe, they rapidly gained in popularity. They became sought-after status symbols. Rich people contracted out with growers, and the first futures contracts were born, for tulip bulbs.

Throughout 1636, the spectulative price of tulip bulbs skyrocketed. Then, in February of 1637, the prices collapsed, and tulip bulb speculators learned the hard way what so many businesses have had to learn as well-- that in the end, no matter what your computer program, derivative, "gut" or whatever other method you have of figuring, that in the end, someone has to buy a rail-car full of pork bellies, pay a mortgage, purchase electricity (hello Enron)-- or a tulip bulb-- for you to make some actual real money. It seems like every ten years or so, business people need to find that out the hard way. Too bad we taxpayers always seem to be the ones who end up footing the bill for their lack of understanding that it's a simple game.

Perfect Autumn Day Friday Random Ten

The weather here in Chicago is picture-perfect today. I'm remembering to enjoy it, thinking about the days in December I'll be riding my bike to school through snow.

A few days after dropping the Chemistry class, I'm realizing I did the right thing-- I'm feeling a huge sense of relief. And I'm really enjoying my English 101 class. It'll be good for some future posts.

1. England Swings- Roger Miller
2. Jim Dean of Indiana- Phil Ochs
3. (My Baby Does) Good Sculptures- The Rezillos
4. Don't Make Me Wait- Locksley
5. Teenage Depression- Eddie and the Hot Rods
6. 6'1"- Liz Phair
7. Long, Lonesome Highway- Michael Parks
8. Blame It On Cain- Elvis Costello
9. Bridge Over Troubled Water- Simon and Garfunkel
10. All This I've Done For You- Hüsker Du


Notes:
1. I came across a Roger Miller "best of" collection at my local library and had to rip a few of my old favorites from that.
2. Phil Ochs usually sang politically-tinged songs, but this one is a straight-up beautiful homage to the actor James Dean.
3. This one is from Rhino Records' fabulous "No Thanks" collection of seventies punk.
4. Bought this one on Itunes after hearing it on The Underground Garage on Sirius satellite radio.
5. Also from the "No Thanks" collection. Great opening line: "Well I'm spending all my money and it's going up my nose..."
6. From "Exile In Guyville."
7. The great theme song from the television series "Then Came Bronson," sung by the show's star.
8, From "My Aim Is True," one of the best first albums ever.
9. Another one lifted from the library collection.
10. Candy Apple Grey is my favorite Hüsker Du album and one of my favorite album titles ever.