New Year Already

Oh my Gawd! It’s the new year already? Guess time flies when you’re having fun. Or even when you’re not.

Spent most of last year worrying about the economy. At least I was able to get some things in order. You know, prepping for the inevitable hyperinflation and/or prolonged depression. Put some funds into hard assets, gold and silver, and others into oil and commodities.

Good thing I’ve been paying attention to folks like Jim Rogers. And Peter Schiff, Thomas Woods and Ron Paul. Lew Rockwell has been doing yeoman work getting out the message of freedom.

Sound money and real economy, eventually. Yes? But what will happen in the interim, during the transition?

Could be some interesting times ahead. Hopefully not too much social unrest. It’s always the political ramifications which are the most scary.

Visited friends in Palm Springs over Christmas. One lady has a lot socked away in muni bonds. She thinks she’s diversified because of the different cities. I tried to tell her the bond market might collapse but she’s old school. You know – “Bonds are the safest investment.”

On the foreign policy front, the Obama administration is not offering up any “Change.” Rhetoric may be different but policy is essentially the same as Bush. No surprise here. In the presidential primaries only two candidates, Kucinich and Paul, promised to bring the troops home. Both were mocked and ridiculed by the party establishment.

Obama appears to be escalating the war in Afghanistan by sending in more troops and increasing the use of Predator drones. Interesting things are going on in Pakistan as well. Also interesting to note that Democrats critical of Bush foreign policy have become strangely silent.

Anyway it’s not good to worry too much. The planet will probably not explode in the near future. I’ve taken care of my personal business by preparing as best I can. I work to make a difference by educating others, particularly young people, whenever possible.

2009 went by in a flash. I’ve got a book to write.

The Special Advancement Program

Our system of public education has made great strides over the last decades. Three, four, and five star children have been thriving quite nicely. However we must not allow the moss of complacency to grow under our heels. Special attention must be paid to those who struggle.

Not everyone is fit for academics. Such are the facts of life. One and two star children: the mentally retarded, the overly combative, and the socially regressed, often disrupt the classroom environment. No system, no matter how finely tuned, can operate at full efficiency amidst a sea of boat rockers, mavericks, and degenerates.

It is in this spirit that we proudly announce the formation of the Special Advancement Program (SAP). A unique curriculum, based on manual skills, has been formulated for these students. Henceforth, all public K-12 school sub-basements will be retrofitted with SAP stations.

Child therapists will be on hand to render SAP regimen. Ritalin, Thorazine and psycho-tropic drugs prescribed on premises. Incorrigible cases treated with electro-shock and lobotomy.

Funding has been approved and on the go. Teachers are required to give enthusiastic support. Children two star and below are henceforth relegated to SAP. Crowded classrooms will be alleviated and attitudes suitably improved.

The Special Advancement Program will ensure SAP students their rightful places in society.

Bombs and Bribes

Sadly, one thing that has entirely escaped modern American foreign policy is empathy. Without much humility or regard for human life, our foreign policy has been reduced to alternately bribing and bombing other nations, all with the stated goal of “promoting democracy.”

Ron Paul

Beyond the Dollar

Say, have you checked out the dollar lately? It’s purchasing power has declined by 94%. The “almighty” dollar is now worth six cents.

As you can see, it’s been a downhill ride since the government “went off the gold standard” in 1933. An even more precipitous drop occurred after the Bretton Woods agreement collapsed 1971.

Those with money are cashing in soft dollars for hard assets, such as gold and silver. As for the other 95%? Well . . .

Actually, a dollar crisis will not spell the end of the world. There will still be an economy. People will continue to work, raise families, and attend sporting events.

True, imported goods will become more expensive. The demise of the “petro” dollar will bring higher prices at the pump.

But people are preparing for tough times ahead. They’re putting aside food, water, and other essentials. They’re discussing security options with friends and family.

In short, they’re thinking beyond the dollar.

No one can predict how severe the transition will be. A barter system, direct exchange of goods and services, will probably arise in the wake of a worthless currency. People will find ways to restore a semblance of order from relative chaos.

It’s hard to imagine what might emerge on the other side. Perhaps new found wisdom will be forged from harsh lessons. Many will rediscover the meaning of personal freedom and sound money.

A renaissance of sanity could sweep the land and banish the dreary conformity of Big Daddy politics and endless wars.

The Red Ferrari

Everyone at school gave congrats on her latest victory. “You’re pretty cool, Nicole,” one boy said, “almost as rad as your old man.”

Nicole just shrugged, reconciled to their fascination with her father’s Ferrari. There was always a chorus of “Ews” and “Ahs” whenever it roared past. Still, there were no complaints as she toweled herself dry after swim practice. She was back on her competitive form, studies were doing well, and he hadn’t touched her in weeks.

Thanksgiving was only a week away. Nicole jumped in the family sedan and motored away with windows down. There was rock music on the radio in the brisk fall air. The terrible secret was behind her. She smiled and swayed to the beat. Out of sight and out of mind.

Two errands to run on the way home. Groceries and car service. With her mother gone, Nicole was stuck with the cooking. Lynette always whined about going to McDonald’s. Well, that prima donna is eating Brussels sprouts tonight, Nicole resolved, as she browsed the aisles at Safeway.

And that spoiled brat is visiting her mother on Thanksgiving, come hell or high water. Nicole furrowed her brow and pulled into the Jiffy Lube. Across the road was a Ferrari dealership. While she was waiting for the lube change, she spotted a familiar red shape.

She walked over and peered into the garage. “That’s my father’s car, isn’t it?” she asked the mechanic.

“Yup. Sure is, Nicole.” He gave her a gap-toothed smile and wiped his forehead with a shirt sleeve. “Some beauty. Dr. Larsen is a fine man with a fine taste in automobiles.”

“What’s he having done this time?”

“New wheels, tires, and some touch up work.”

“Touch up work?” Nicole frowned. “Has the car been in an accident?”

“Oh, no! Of course, not!” He laughed nervously. “Dr. Larsen would never do a thing like that to his beauty.”

“Look, ah . . . Jim,” she said, noting the tag on his greasy shirt. “Would you mind if I had a look? I’d love to see the work you’ve done.” She fixed him with her baby blues.

“Certainly, Nicole!” He beamed. “More than happy to show you.”

“Are those the old tires over there?” She pointed to a stack of wide-treads on the cement floor. The Ferrari was hoisted at eye-level, with two new tires yet to go on.

“Yup. Those are them.”

“Hmmm.” She ran her fingers over the grooves. “They’re not very worn. Funny.”

“That’s Dr. Larsen for you. Always wants the latest and greatest.”

“What else has been done to my father’s car, Jim?” she asked.

“Well, there’s . . . the cosmetic work . . .” He blushed under her stare. Though only a few years older, he was not in her league.

“Where?”

“I think it was . . .” He fumbled around for a work light and trained it on the front fender.

“Could it be here?” Nicole indicated a spot of fresh paint.

“Yup. That’s it.” He stooped over for a closer look. The body work had been done in the shop next door. “Hmm . . . interesting . . . they said it was only scratches . . .”

“What do you mean?”

“Just listen,” Jim said, tapping around the fender. “Can you hear the difference, Nicole? Where it sounds hollow and solid?”

“Uh-huh.”

“The hollow areas have been filled in with bondo,” he said. “Here, let me show you.” His hands shook as he guided her finger. “Just curl it back like so . . . and use the knuckle . . .”

“Hey! What the hell’s going on?” An officious looking man in a sport coat and tie approached them. “No customers in the garage. You know that, Jim.”

“Sorry, Mr. Cellini.” Jim dropped her hand and stepped back. “I was just showing Nicole her dad’s car.”

“Ah, Nicole Larsen, the swimmer!” His features lit up. “I’m Bob Cellini, sales manager. Your dad and I go way back.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nicole said.

“Pleasure’s all mine. Sorry about this but insurance and all.” He held out his hand in a preemptive gesture. “How about waiting for your father in the lounge? We have soft drinks, magazines and television.”

“No, that’s ok. My car’s across the street. I’m sure Jim can show me out.”

“Certainly, Nicole. And when you’re ready to own your very own Ferrari, just give old Bob a call.” He presented his business card, flashed an angry look at the mechanic and hurried off.

“Thank you so much, Jim,” Nicole said, as they headed outside. “I learned so much!” She placed her hand lightly on his arm.

“Oh . . . it was no problem . . .” He stammered. “In fact it was . . .”

“Can I ask you for a special favor?”

“Sure . . .”

“Would you copy the work order for me? I need it for my records cause my dad is giving me the car for graduation.”

“Will do!” The mechanic looked positively thrilled.

“Oh and let’s keep this a secret. Please don’t tell anyone,” Nicole whispered, playing off his infatuation.

“Yes . . . ah . . .”

“See you next week, Jim.” She left with a breezy smile.

Geopolitics and Reality

Big Government cannot be your Big Daddy when daddy has no money.

Economic realities are beginning to bite. State governments and public institutions are going broke. Remember that stuff about “spending beyond our means?” Yup.

Depending on circumstances, we’re facing either hyperinflation or prolonged depression. That’s what happens when we become too dependent on the kindness of strangers, ah, Uncle Sam.

Remember that brain-dead “Guns and Butter” nonsense from the Vietnam years? Perhaps today’s equivalent would be something like “Smart Bombs and Medicare.” Whatever.

A huge public debt is being passed on to the next generation. Young workers will examine W-2s and re-examine policies. It’s a burden they are simply unable to pay.

Interesting how the euphoria surrounding the fall of the Berlin Wall evaporated rather quickly on 9/11. Perhaps the collapse of the Soviet Union signaled something other than the “End of All History Triumph of Liberal Democracies.”

It could be a trend toward smaller republics or the end of the of the nation-state. Josh Levin presents some interesting possibilities in his Slate Magazine article: How is America going to End?

Freedom and liberty imply individual responsibility. The “Great Society” is not a free society. Who’s your daddy?

Dead or Not

It has been years since I’ve been alive.

My life was going well. Or so I thought. Good education, wife, three kids, good job in the aviation industry.

Then it all came crashing down. A genetic blood disorder kicked in and I suffered a series of strokes. My speech became slurred and my eyes wouldn’t focus. The world outside began to take on bizarre shapes.

Something funny was going on inside my head. Although I felt fine overall, I couldn’t let anyone see me this way. So I quit my job and just sat around the house.

Everyone in my life was essentially gone. My wife was always at work. My children acted like they hardly knew me. Friends and acquaintances no longer called.

However, I did have strong will to survive. What I needed was help and rehabilitation.

My good buddy, Steve, told me an old lady friend was living nearby, working as a therapist or something. He gave me her number which he found in an old reunion booklet.

An old lady friend from high school. Ah, the memories! She was the first girl I had ever danced with. But she was a stunningly beautiful blond who I felt would only break my heart. So we wound up being just friends.

I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I call her? What would I say? How will she react with me sounding this way?

I steeled my nerve and dialed her number. Fortunately, she was delighted to hear from me. We ended up talking for hours and she invited me to visit her home.

A few days later, I pulled up in her driveway. She greeted me with a big smile and a warm hug. A welcome relief to my tired bones after a journey of three hundred miles.

She was shocked to learn of my ordeal. But over tea in her kitchen, she was determined to help get my life back in order. I immediately began to feel a healing reassurance in her presence. She was a true professional with the training and tools to remedy my sad situation.

Our kitchen reunion turned into quite the project. I took a few personality tests and made out lists of life goals while she researched specialists in speech pathology, cognitive therapy and medical psychiatry.

We had a lot of fun in the process. Going out for dinners, theater shows and sporting events while laying out the groundwork of my rehabilitation. We formed a friendship much closer than that of our high school years.

It was like a long and pleasant dream. But after six months our project was finished and the dream came to an end. It was time for me to return home and rebuild my life.

Rebuild my life. A noble quest but a tough challenge.

Neurologists subjected me to a dizzying array of brain scans, MRIs and psycho-motor evaluations. Psychologists probed me with Rorschach tests, IQ exams and spot memory quizzes. Then they sent me to a doctor who prescribed all kinds of drugs. Zoloft, Ritalin, Prozac, Adderall, Wellbutrin and others I’d never heard of.

There were countless sessions with speech therapists. Working the vowel sounds, hitting the consonants just right. At times I felt I was back in kindergarten. Learning to speak all over again.

The medical facility my lady friend recommended gave me the full course treatment. My head got shrunk, examined, evaluated, electroded, medicated, refrigerated and then re-expanded so the process could begin again.

Over time I began to see some improvement. At least from what they were telling me. My IQ went from 90 to 127. I could now grasp concepts and ideas which had previously been a confused mess. My once befuddled mind was being sharpened.

The world outside was changing too, slowly but surely becoming a more inviting place. Bizarre shapes were disappearing. Long lost memories were returning. The doctors even said I could get them all back.

I was so happy with my progress that I made plans to go back to college. Figured I might as well make use of my new learning capabilities. The future looked bright. I could go on to get a Master’s Degree and be as good as new!

I even thought about flying again. But I was still a bit of a wreck mentally with all the medication I was taking. Could I pass the flyer exam? Not likely.

My physical health was not the greatest but I did have some free time. I figured a bit of travel would do me some good. So I persuaded my lady friend, the one who sent me to the shrinks, to take a trip with me to the west coast.

We visited an old buddy in Washington State. It was quite the fun reunion since they’d been boyfriend and girlfriend in high school. A merry time of drinks, laughs, and reminiscing while touring the grand scenery of the mountains and San Juan Islands.

It felt great to revisit old friends with my new found confidence. I returned home, refreshed and ready to take on the world.

First order of business was education. What would be my course of study? Would it be teaching? Or would something in the natural sciences field be more practical?

There was also my personal life to contend with. Or the lack of one. Since my divorce two years ago it had been the big zippo. De Nada. Nothing.

I was in desperate need of a girl friend! The type I could be intimate with. Although the internet chat rooms looked promising, nothing could beat the social life on a college campus. Problem was all those cute coeds were only half my age. Plus teachers weren’t allowed to date students.

An interesting prospect did pop up on a singles web site. A lady in Eastern Europe who taught at middle school. We exchanged emails and became pen pals. I sent her a book relating some local New England history while she sent me photos of her family, friends and students.

After a few months she invited me over. I located her home country on the atlas. Ukraine. Terrific! I could check out a potential girlfriend and satisfy my Geography for Teachers project with a vacation over spring break.

Eastern Europe had always seemed like heaven to me. Old beautiful and culturally well preserved. I had always dreamed I would travel there.

The dream came true. Capital city of Kiev. The heart of Eastern Europe. My pen pal in person was a stunning brunette with gleaming green eyes. Twenty years my junior! Someone I could never meet back home.

Events went by in a blur. Met her family and friends, did some sightseeing, some paperwork. My dream girl was eager to travel with me to America. More paperwork.

Dreams came true and events rushed on. In the blink of an eye I had a new life, a new wife, and a new-born child.

With my new education and scholastic honors, it was time for my next big adventure. My wife was learning English and also getting a degree. The economy was showing signs of improvement two years after the 9/11 attacks. Job prospects were looking good.

But not for new graduates as I found out. Scores of resumes and countless interviews failed to produce even a single offer of gainful employment. My new life was looking to be a serious struggle.

At this point I could only pray the doctors would finally find a cure for my strokes. The last thing I needed was for them to return, especially after all the shrink-wrapping my head had gone through.

I figured getting an MBA would better my chances in a tough job market. So I went back to graduate school. I jokingly told my wife I’d probably wind up being a professional student.

But something went haywire halfway through my first semester. I simply couldn’t concentrate. Not even for a short lecture. Words were confusing and writing was impossible. Books and homework went unread and undone.

It seemed my vaunted study habits had gotten up and left. Maybe they’d gone over to someone else. I didn’t know. But I did know things weren’t going right in the old noggin.

My worst nightmares were returning. I had to drop out of school and focus on finding work. Any old crappy job this time. Janitor, security guard, store clerk, didn’t matter.

But nothing doing. Got the yak-yak runaround from some about me being “over-qualified.” Most just said drop off a resume as in “get lost.”

There was no job and no school. By now my finances were fully depleted. I was stressing out big time. I figured I’d lost everything I’d gained.

Went back to the shrinks. They brought me back again by upping the meds and increasing the volts. But it was more bittersweet this time. The shrinks could juice me up but they couldn’t find me a job.

I stuffed my pride and applied for hundreds of lowlife positions. Seven Eleven soda jerk, government postal clerk, night shift at a slaughterhouse, even chamber maid at a sleazy motel.

Not one damn thing! It seemed like I was invisible.

I was starting to doubt myself. Right down to my very existence. It seemed everything I did went totally un-noticed. Like I was a complete blank. A non-entity.

Was tomorrow actually yesterday? Did I die and someone forgot to tell me? Was all this a dead man’s dream?

Maybe one of those strokes actually killed me. But here I was walking the earth thinking I was alive. When I was actually six feet under.

There had to be a reason why no one has seen me for such a long time. Had I fallen off the face of the earth? Friends would call but were they really calling someone else?

I had always thought of my life as a fairy tale. That I was capable of everything. I could achieve every goal and reach every plateau.

Had the whole thing been a dream? My life over the past thirty years? Has the dream finally come to an end?

What was I going thru? Was it heaven or hell or the place in between? I must have missed some clues along the way. Reality has escaped me.

It’s been several years since graduation. I’m having a hard time understanding what I graduated with. An advanced degree in what? Head hunters never return my calls. Job prospects are nil.

My four children realize something is wrong with their dad. I talk funny and I don’t remember things. I sit around the house all day and gaze at the television. I’m always losing my car keys.

Is this some kind of payback for all the good years? If so, will my luck ever change? Are my dreams real, or is reality my dreams?

My life has become empty and full at the same time. There can only be one reason. I must be dead!

If you do see me please let me know. Is it obvious to everyone except me where I am?

While walking on a crowded sidewalk the other day, I decided I should try to bump into someone just to see what would happen.

Trip Back East

Just got back from a month long trip back east to visit an old friend in New Hampshire. Had a great time, saw some interesting things, and learned a lot.

Stayed in Nashua at the Crowne Plaza. Top floor. Room was fairly standard variety. Best thing was the living room/commons area. Continental breakfasts and late afternoon free cocktails and dinner snacks. The hostesses were first rate. I signed a copy of Deadly Angel for each of them.

Sightseeing included the Laconia Biker Fest at Weirs Beach, the Harvard Quad, the Fourth of July fireworks on the Charles River, Boston Commons, Science Park, North Bridge, Walden Pond, Portsmouth Brewery, Keene State University, Bretton Woods, and the cog railway to the summit of Mount Washington. Scenery was fantastic and weather mostly sunny.

My friend took me to a medical clinic where I had a colonoscopy. Yikes! Actually it wasn’t that bad. They had me pretty doped on meds. I had some other work done as well. No need to be more specific here. Anyway, I was so impressed with the staff that I’ve decided to become a regular patient. It may be a cross-country away, but New England has the best medical care in the world.

Now for the learning part. Spent time at a couple coin shops. Got acquainted with Gold Eagles and junk silver. Bought a silver bar and a couple Canadian 1 oz. Platinums. Also got some inside news on the likelihood of hyperinflation. Best to be prepared, people.

Best of all was seeing my old friend and meeting his family. I haven’t had this much “social” time in quite some time. It was good for me.

Economic Definitions

Economics: comes from the Greek word Oikonomikos, which refers to household management. Economics deals with how we manage our resources, something we do every day.

Commodity: An article or good used in trade or commerce, esp. a product as distinguished from a service.

Goods and Services: Goods are tangible items: furniture, food, books, automobiles. Services are intangible: personal assistance, cleaning, nursing, advising.

Tangible: Any physical object which is real and perceptible. For example, a cup of coffee is readily perceived as such.

Intangible: An object or activity which is not readily perceptible or visualized. For example, a waitress pouring a cup of coffee may not readily be perceived as providing a viable service.

Exchange: Giving a good (commodity) or service (labor) to another and receiving a good (commodity) or service (labor) in return.

Direct Exchange: an exchange of one good/service directly for another. For example, a butcher exchanges a cut of beef for a textbook.

Indirect Exchange: an exchange where a third item is used in the process. For example, a butcher exchanges a cut of beef for an item. He then exchanges that item for a textbook. The item being used serves as a medium of exchange.

Medium of Exchange: something which is used in between, or in the middle of, the actual exchange of goods and services. A medium of exchange can be an effective facilitator of financial transactions.

Money: Any commodity which is used as a medium of exchange and a store of wealth. Diverse commodities such as seashells, iron nails, tobacco, timber, and livestock have all served as money, along with gold and silver.

Money Substitutes: Non-commodity items, such as wooden tokens, strings of beads, and paper currencies. Money substitutes, unlike commodity money, can easily be subdivided into smaller units, making them useful as further facilitators of economic transactions.

Inflation: An increase in the money supply.

Deflation: A decrease in the money supply.

Supply and Demand: The market prices of goods and services are largely determined by the Law of Supply and Demand. A high demand for something in short supply will cause it’s price to rise. A low demand for something in plentiful supply will cause it’s price to fall.

Price Increases: In addition to the Law of Supply and Demand, prices may also rise as a result of inflation. More money in circulation chasing relatively fewer goods and services will bring about an increase of prices and wages.

Price Decreases: In addition to the Law of Supply and Demand, prices may also fall as a result of deflation. Less money in circulation chasing relatively plentiful goods and services will bring about a decrease of prices and wages.

Importance of Economic Definitions: It is most vital to distinguish the difference between money and money substitutes, and to realize that inflation and price increases are not the same thing. Failure to understand the basics can make one vulnerable to government propaganda, the manipulation of consent, and looting of assets by the powers that be.

The Prospect of Hyperinflation

Analysts are growing increasingly concerned with the prospect of hyperinflation. Massive infusions of paper dollars, resulting from decades of reckless spending, are threatening our economic stability. Interest rate hikes by the FED, normally called for, may prove to be politically impossible.

Americans have never experienced hyperinflation. We may be experiencing it soon. A good reference point is the Weimar Republic in the 1920’s. The picture is not a pretty one.

Workers rushed out on lunch breaks to buy essentials. There were long lines and food riots. Savings disappeared seemingly overnight. There was a complete breakdown of social order.

What would you do if the dollar collapsed? If your city could no longer fund police protection? How about food and water? Would there be a return to the barter system?

A serious discussion with friends and family is in order. We need to prepare for the prospect of hyperinflation.