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If You've Got the Money, Honey, I've Got the Slime

3/27/2019

Money is the root of all evil.

I don’t believe that.

But money is the root of a lot of evil.

I offer two areas.

Politics!

Need I say more.

We all know political action committees for both major parties collect fortunes to enforce their views, fortunes that could be used for teacher salaries or affordable housing for the homeless or any number of other worthy causes. Our Supreme Court, the place we look to for sanity, decided allowing unlimited contributions by corporations was just dandy. Does anyone seriously think that the National Rifle Association or Walmart or Disney or Big Sugar or any of the myriad others with deep pockets is going to lobby on behalf of Mr. or Ms. Normal American?

The lust for money by a politician doesn’t end with election success. From what I read, representatives in Congress are expected to spend half their waking hours raising more. I have no trouble believing this. I receive email request after email request to give whatever I can to save the country from the baddies on the other side of the political spectrum. In fact, they ask me to give whatever I can every few days, trying to scare me with the horrors that will result if I don’t.

So what does it mean? It means the political process is more financial than issue oriented. It means that, since raising funds is the road to success, doing the donor’s bidding is the road to security—and nails in the coffin of integrity.

So here we are with a “democracy” controlled by money where the interests of the many of low or moderate means are secondary to the interests of the few with fortunes at their disposal.

That’s one area. I’ll return to it in a bit.

Then there are the recent revelations about the wealthy paying huge sums so their pampered babes will be accepted by “prestigious” schools.

Won’t do well on the entrance exam? No problem. I’ll pay one person to take it for you and another to look the other way.

Grades aren’t good? No problem. With a little money I can get those grades changed.

Did poorly in high school, perhaps sat around playing video games while simultaneously developing a weak body? No problem. We’ll get you an athletic scholarship for the hockey team. And don’t worry, you won’t even have to show up—we own the coach.

Both our examples, politics and education, have similar scenarios. Someone with lots of money wants something. That’s not necessarily bad. But what is bad is the assumption that the money should be able to purchase what is wanted, even when it is basically unfair.

I detest the privilege assumed by those with the money, but it’s the ones who take it that earn the appellation “slime.” These people toss integrity to the winds to line their pockets or ambition.

Politicians want to be in office so badly they will pledge allegiance to those providing the means—misplacing their loyalty and integrity at the expense of their constituents. Slime.

Coaches, admission officers, administrators who sell places in a freshman class are worse. They defile the basic tenets of education—truth, integrity, character. All for extra cash at the expense of worthier students denied admission. Slime!

And shame on them all!

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Bigger is Bitter

3/20/2019

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When I was a child and went shopping with my mom, we frequented a butcher shop, a purveyor of groceries, and a bakery, among others. All the merchants knew my mother, welcomed her with a friendly greeting, and did their best to satisfy her needs. It was a social experience everyone enjoyed.

One day, and I remember it well, a new store opened. It sold meats, groceries, and baked goods—all in the same location! It had a parking lot! No longer necessary to find coveted space on the street. It was the first supermarket I’d ever seen.

It was bigger. Was it better? Obviously, it was more convenient than shopping at three or more separate establishments. Of course, you gave up some things. Employees no longer knew your name. There wasn’t the same individual attention to your needs. My mother worried about the effect on her previous sources of food. She mentioned this to the manager of the new enterprise. Of course, she was shopping in his store when she did. He was the epitome of understanding. Certainly continue to visit your other stores, he said. He knew that wouldn’t happen. Within a year the smaller stores were out of business and who knows what happened to those eking out a living from them. So was bigger better—or was it bitter?

What about mergers? I’ve been affected by them many times in this ever-changing world. It happens often with media suppliers and banks, although they are far from alone. Every time a takeover occurs, I receive a glowing letter explaining how the change is going to be wonderful for me. Just before writing this I discovered that an account, in a bank recently taken over, has started to bleed a monthly charge. I’m sure that was made clear in the pages of two-point type that was sent to me. So explain to me how I’m better off. In truth, of course, the goal of the merger is to make it wonderful for those at the top, nor for me. In such situations I rarely notice an improvement in services, but I do see an increase in costs for those services, probably fostered by a decrease in competition. Is bigger better—or bitter?

What about automatic answering systems? I don’t know of anyone who likes them, yet they grow and grow. It used to be, when you called a company, that you’d speak with a human, a situation that’s becoming rarer and rarer. They often drive me nuts, offering a menu of five options when the purpose of my call requires a sixth. Sometimes I can press 0 and get to a real person, but not always. Usually, though, I can inch along some path until the system gets frustrated with my lack of devotion to its rules and tells me it is switching me to a representative.

At last, I hear a ringing that I know is taking me to a true problem solver. Usually the phone is answered immediately and I’m poised to hear, Hello, my name is Linda. How can I help you? But I’m wrong. What I hear is, All of our representatives are assisting other callers. Your call is very important to us and will be answered in the order of arrival. Wow! My call is important to them! This view is reinforced every so often, sometimes every 30 seconds (somewhat annoying), sometimes every couple of minutes (mildly annoying). Sometimes my call, so important to them, is not answered for 20 minutes if I’m crazy enough to hold on that long (outrageously annoying). Who are the worst offenders? Usually the larger organizations. In this case there is no question: bigger is bitter.

What about Amazon? It’s so convenient. And they carry virtually everything. More often than I like to admit, I bring up its website and go through the myriad of options for any object I’m interested in. Along with the reviews I can accomplish so much so fast, especially when compared to wandering store to store and probably seeing nowhere near the selection available on Amazon. Certainly the bigness of Amazon is better! But not for everyone. How many businesses have been closed because they couldn’t compete? Over a decade ago I decided to purchase a large screen TV. I saw the one I wanted in an up-scale electronics store in the neighborhood. The same one on Amazon was several hundred dollars cheaper and came with free delivery and setup. I told the local merchant I wanted to support him and asked what could be done. He was helpless and I purchased through Amazon. The store closed within two years.

Bigger has its benefits. But it’s no panacea. Many have lost their livelihoods, interaction has been marginalized or mechanized, and our social structure will never be as personal as before. How big a price are we ready to pay for convenience? And how much of a say will we have in it?

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Political Logic

3/13/2019

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Let’s hypothesize a wonderful new device on the market that costs $5, can be attached easily to your car, and will warn you if a pedestrian is about to stray into the road. Sounds pretty good, huh? But wait. Turns out it doesn’t always detect small children. Up and coming legislator opines, “Take it off the market. It didn’t save a child last month.”

To me that argument makes no sense, is illogical. Why remove a device that saves some lives even though it doesn’t save all lives.

But this argument is used over and over, recently on the bill passed by the House of Representatives requiring background checks on all individuals purchasing firearms or receiving a gun via a transfer.

What’s important in this discussion is not the cowardly sycophants in the Senate who are sure to oppose, or the small thinking president with his veto toy.

What I’m deploring is the incredible lack of logic driven by self-serving guile in those opposing the bill. Take a look at the following statements offered in opposition:

This bill would not have prevented the shooting at the Republican congressional baseball practice.
Criminals who flout the law won’t submit themselves to background checks.

Those arguments are exactly the same as that given against the $5 device. They try to convince you that because something isn’t perfect, it’s worthless.

Well, my answer to them is a resounding “So What!” Most understand that universal background checks will not stop all shootings, but it surely will stop some shootings. So checks aren’t perfect, but often they work. We must recognize an argument that thwarts logic and call it out for what it is.

This isn’t the only illogical approach used by the background check opposition. Let’s take a look at another hypothetical. An apartment complex is about to pass a rule forbidding pets. In opposition, a voice describes an elderly woman living there with no nearby family. This rule would forbid her from taking in a dog for companionship.

Do you see what that argument does? It takes for granted that the poor woman has every right to have a pet. It gets you to accept that as an unquestionable concept. You’re led to thinking about the suffering inflicted by the proposed rule. You should not consider the unstated premise that she has a right to the dog. But why shouldn’t you question it. There may be good reasons for the rule, including reports by some tenants of allergies or legal requirements from insurance companies.

This is the logic employed by a second type of argument against background checks. Here are two recently used examples:

Checks would prohibit loaning a gun to someone who felt they needed it for self-defense.
Checks would prevent one hunter from letting another use his gun as they bravely stalk the unarmed prey.

Do you see how they get you to assume it’s okay to lend your gun to a fearful friend or a co-hunter? Don’t even question those ideas, just realize how background checks would halt such actions. But you should question them. Who says the one needing self-defense would know how to handle the gun or secure it properly or have the proper training or even be able to pass a background check? Why should the fellow hunter be trustworthy or have a clear record just because he’s with you?

Let me make something clear. While I think the desire to lend guns is a terrible idea, my main point is the lack of logic appearing in these arguments.

I hope elementary logic is taught in schools. I would love students early in their training to learn how to spot fallacies in the arguments made by those (politicians or advertisers) who would attempt to influence them, to learn how not to be conned by the people making the arguments. Because those people are very good at it and all of us, young and old, have to be equally good at seeing through the smokescreen.

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Dad

3/6/2019

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The day these words are posted is March 6, 2019, my father’s birthday. He would have been 122. Not hard to figure he was born in 1897, a mere 32 years after the end of the Civil War. He died of a heart attack at the young age of 55, just a few months shy of my 18th birthday and even a smaller time from my departure for college.

In those self-centered days of youth, I wasn’t aware of how amazing a man he was, but the older I get the more I realize how lucky I am he was 50% responsible for me. So, Dad, this is for you, with heartfelt thanks and love.

He was brave. In the navy during World War I, he was associated with communications and in Haiti climbed a 100-foot swaying pole to attach equipment to its peak. I’ve seen a photo of it. He stoically faced his death surrounded by an oxygen tent, the treatment of the day for heart problems.

He enjoyed a good time. His name was Cyril and he had a twin Cecil. Guess their heritage! When young they were indistinguishable. I heard many a story regarding tricks pulled, such as one making a date with a girl and the other carrying it out. Or if one had detention in school but had something he wanted to do, the other would fill in. He and my mother loved giving parties. Everyone always dressed to the nines for them. He had a cocktail shaker and proudly mingled with guests as he mixed Manhattans.

He played the piano when younger. He and Cecil gave concerts on dual pianos that received rave reviews from the Boston Globe.

He was kind. I cannot recall a single instance where he raised his voice at my mother, at me, or at anyone else. Goodness knows, he had plenty of opportunities. When I was 17, we had one car, a Plymouth. It was new. My mother’s father, whom I never knew, had died and left her $1500 which was enough for the big purchase. I remember rolling down the back window as we passed through town and shouting we had a new car. When I got my driver’s license, my dad had a chat with me, told me if something happened to the car we couldn’t afford another, and he expected me to be extremely careful. It wasn’t long before I backed into a tree. The damage was slight, but it did exist. I waited in dread for my father to return from work. He said, “I’ve already had my say. Do better in the future.”

He was smart and a hard worker. He never received a college degree, but he took many courses both in traditional classrooms and by mail. He was a pioneer in the field of radio communications and had a good friend who worked with Edwin Armstrong, the inventor of FM. He was employed at several places, but by the time I came on the scene he had settled at Bell Telephone Laboratories in New York City and later moved to the newer building in Murray Hill, New Jersey. He was an MTS, the designation given to a Member of the Technical Staff, the title assigned to engineers and one I was to hold many years later. He was the only MTS in the Labs history to not have a formal degree. Shortly after he died my mother learned he was slated to be given a significant responsibility on a new project.

He was a father. And I don’t mean just the automatic designation following an act of love. He was “there” in every sense. He dealt with me kindly when I did stupid things like back the car into a tree. He encouraged the use of our back yard as a baseball diamond, football stadium, and golf course. When a ball passed through a neighbor’s closed window, he laughed and repaired it himself. When in that innocent age my married sister became pregnant, I asked how babies came about, assuming there was something magical about being married. I didn’t see it, but I bet my parents exchanged a glance. What I know happened is that the next Saturday my father suggested going for a walk. On it I learned some pretty interesting stuff.

For decades I’ve wished I could have known Dad when I was an adult, allowing me to convey my feelings of love and respect to a wonderful man. I’m sorry my children couldn’t have had him in their lives.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

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If You've Got the Money, Honey, I've Got the Slime

Bigger is Bitter

Political Logic

Dad

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