Grapes of Wrath Pt. II (The Pinot Noir Edition)

"Jim. Hey Jim, over here."

"Who's that? Why...why...why I'll be damned. If it ain't Tom. Tom, how 'ere ya'?"

"Ok, I guess. What are you doing out here Jim? Shouldn't you be in church, it being a Sunday and all."

"Nah, I ain't a preacher no more. Nope. I don't need no saviour no more. Ain't got no use for one no how. How 'bout you Tom. Are you...you know, out? You didn't do run away, did ya'?"

"Nah, I didn't run. They paroled me early. Gave me twenty dollars and a bus ticket and sent me back home. Say Jim, you seen my ma and pa? The house looks kind of deserted."

"They're over at the neighbors I reckon. Anyways, this ain't their house no more. Bank took it last week."

"The Bank? What fer?"

"Same reason they took all these houses 'round here. No jobs, no money, no way to pay the mortgage. It's the same all over California."

"Well if that don't beat all."

"It's the heat that done it. Turned the whole state into a desert."

"Sure feels like a desert alright. Look Jim, I'm gonna go over to the neighbors. It's been a long time since I saw ma and pa. You wanna come with me?"

"Alright. Sure. But just remember I ain't no preacher no more. Ok?"

"Don't make no difference to me. Seems kind of funny though, seein' how you was always preaching at us when we was little kids. But suit yourself."

(Tom and Jim walk to the neighbors and catch up with Tom's family)

"Hi Ma."

"Ma? Who's that calling me...Tom? Is that you? Oh Tom. I can't hardly believe it. Is that really you?"

"It's me alright. Great to see ya' Ma. Let's have a look at ya'."

"But what are you doin' here Tom? Shouldn't you be in...? Oh, you didn't run away did you? You promised me you wasn't gonna do that."

"No Ma, they let me out early. You see, I got the papers right here. They give me a parole and twenty dollars, just 'cause I never gave 'em no trouble."

"A parole? Oh Tom...I've got to tell Pa. Pa, come out here. Come look who's here. Pa, where are ya?"

(Tom's father comes out of the house)

"I'm right here. What are you yellin' about?"

"Look who's here."

"Henry Fonda?"

"No, it's Tom. Don't you even recognize your own son."

"Tom, but I thought you was in...When did you get out?"

(Tom turns to talk to his father)

"Couple of days ago. I went to the house but all I found was the preacher."

"I told you I ain't no preacher."

"What happened to the house Pa?"

"Bank took it. That note we signed, you know the one I told you about. That 40 year adjustable reverse amortization interest only prepayment penalty balloon mortgage we used to buy the house. Well, seems the interest rate went up and the bank told me I had to come up with 2 million dollars or they'd foreclose. "

"2 million dollars for a $400,000 house? That don't seem right."

"We'd a been ok if the interest rates hadn't gone up. But where were we gonna come up with 2 million dollars? What with this 10 year heat wave we've been havin' and no electricity on account of all the power plants bein' broken, and no jobs on account of there ain't no electricity. This whole state is just turnin' into one big dustbowl, Tom. That's all it is. Just a big bowl of dust. I told the man we didn't have the money and so he come back a few months later with a piece of paper saying the house was his now and told us we had to vacate the premises."

(Pa's neighbor Muley walks up and joins the conversation)

"Piece of paper? Piece of paper? It ain't a piece of paper that make it your'n. It's eatin' in it, and spillin' food on the carpet in it, and watchin' TV in your underwear in it that makes it your'n, and not no piece of paper."

(Muley walks away, having had his dramatic moment. Pa turns to Ma and speaks)

"Well, if you ain't got the paper then it ain't yours. That's what the law says anyways. Ain't that right Ma?"

"Don't worry Pa. We'll find some other place to live. What about them flyer's that feller was handin' out?"

(Tom interrupts)

"What flyers?"

"Show him Pa."

"Here Tom, take a look. It says that up in Canada there's plenty of work."

"Canada? But ain't it kind of cold up there?"

"No, not since the global warming. It's all different now. This feller with the flyers said that up around Hudson's Bay it's all beach resorts and condominiums. Says there's plenty of work building houses and hotels and shopping malls. What'd he call it Ma? Oh, that's right. Called it the new Riviera."

"Well gee Pa, how ya' gonna get up to Canada."

"We'll buy a car and drive, I guess. You know can buy them old SUV's real cheap now that gas is up around $50 a gallon."

"Well how much would one of them SUV's cost?"

"There's a feller in town selling his ol' Lincoln Navigator for fifteen bucks. Reckon we oughta be able to come up with 15 bucks, don't ya' think?"

"They gave me 20 dollars when they paroled me out of jail. I guess we could use that. But what are we gonna do for gas?"

"Just have to sell off our things along the way. Besides, we still got our credit cards. They can take our house but by God no one's gonna take our credit cards. Ain't that right Ma?"

"That's right Pa. We're Californians Tom, don't you ever forget that."

(So the family piles into the SUV and heads north up to Canada. Just outside of Calgary they stop into a fillin' station)

"Where you folks headed? You ain't headed up to Hudson's Bay I hope."

"Well yeah, that's what we was plannin' on. Gonna get jobs."

"Uh-huh. Got one of 'em flyers too, I'll bet."

"You mean like this one right here?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Heh, I must've seen a million of those by now. Look folks, you look like nice people. Do yourselves a favor and go home. There ain't no work up in Hudson's Bay. They been handin' out them flyers all over California just so could they could drive down the wages. You know, find someone desparate enough to do the work for less than the other fella' is making. Believe me, you'd be better off if you just went home."

"Whaddya mean there ain't no work? The feller told us..."

"I know what he told ya' and I'm tellin' ya' there ain't no work. Go back home, before you get hurt."

"Can't go home. Ain't got no home to go back to."

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you."

(The family continues on to Hudson's Bay. Soon the road is crowded with broken down SUV's, all with California plates. Outside the towns angry mobs carrying clubs and waving signs tell them to keep moving or else. Finally they find a work camp just outside of Churchill)

"You folk's looking for work."

"Yeah."

"How many of you are there?"

"Five of us, if you count my ma and my sister. My sister's pregnant though, so she can't do any heavy lifting."

"There's a construction site about ten miles from up the road. Pay is 15 cents an hour. Be ready to go at 5:00 am sharp or we'll give your spots to someone else."

"Fifteen cents an hour? Why, a fella can't even live on that."

"Take it or leave it. 5:00 am sharp, you hear."

"Yeah, we hear ya'. Geez Ma. Fifteen cents an hour. That won't even pay the rent on the cabin."

"Don't worry Tom. We'll take this job for now until something better turns up. It'll be ok, you'll see."

"I hope you're right. We come an awful long way for fifteen cents an hour."

(Later that night Tom hears footsteps. He steps outside and sees deputies armed with billy clubs walking through the camp)

"Can I help you officer?"

"Who are you?"

"Name's Tom. "

"Tom huh. You one of those troublemakers we been hearing aboat? "

"No, I ain't making no trouble. I'm just here to work that's all."

"What're you doing outside your cabin Tom?"

"Thought I'd stretch my legs a little before I turn in, that's all. Is there a problem?"

"Yeah, Tom. You're a problem. You and all these other Californians. Who invited you up here anyways?"

"No one invited us. We just thought that..."

"You just thought what? That you could come up here and cause trouble? C'mon boys, let's take him in."

"Hey wait a minute. I ain't done nuthin' to..."

(Tom feels something crack across his skull. At the taste of his own blood he flies into a rage and kills one of the deputies. In the confusion that follows he slips off into the night. Later he makes his way back to his cabin where Ma is waiting for him)

"What happened Tom? What'd they do to you?"

"They tried to take me to jail, Ma, but I wouldn't go."

"What'd you do? Something terrible I'm guessin'."

"I had no choice. They was gonna arrest me so I..."

"Shhh, Tom. I know you wouldn't have done it 'cepting you had no choice. What are we gonna do now?"

"We gotta get out of here. Right now. They're searching the entire camp."

"Ok, I'll wake everyone up and tell 'em we're leaving. But Tom, don't you say a word 'bout what happened tonight. Ok?"

"Sure Ma, I won't say anything."

(They hide Tom in the SUV and make for the front gate. They tell the guard they've found jobs at another work camp and the guard, although skeptical, let's them pass. Further down they road they come upon a government camp. It is well-kept and clean and the family gets their own cabin. Behind the camp walls the police can't touch them and soon they get good jobs for good wages and have even managed to put a little money aside for the future. The family feels like real people again. One night, however, vigilantes from a nearby town who are angry about immigrants stealing their jobs begin marching on the camp. Tom runs into one of the vigilantes under a bridge and kills him. He sneaks back to the camp and says one last farewell to his Ma)

"I gotta go now Ma."

"But where, Tom. Where are you gonna go? You know they're out there looking for you."

"Let 'em find me, I ain't afraid. Besides, I never gave no one no trouble less'n they give it to me first. You know that Ma."

"I know Tom, but I'm worried about you. Where'll you go, what'll you do?"

"I'll go someplace where people are treated like people, not like dogs. Where a man can live decent. Where he can sit in his hot tub and sip his chardonnay and it's nobody's business if he does."

"Like we did back in California. We was people then, wasn't we? Before the global warmin' came that is."

"Yeah, we had stock options and home equity back then, but now we're nothin'."

"But Tom, how will I know what's happened to you. Won't I ever see you again?"

"You'll see me, Ma. Everytime you see a man so swollen with thirst that he can't open his lips to drink his frappucino, I'll be there. Everytime you see a man so bankrupt that he can't afford the electricty to charge his Ipod, I'll be there. Everytime you see someone so destitute that he can't even afford to cruise to the beach in his SUV, ..."

"While talking on his cellphone?"

"Yeah ma, while a talking on his cellphone, I'll be there. I'll be there 'cause I'm the people. Maybe Jim was right. A person ain't got a soul of his own, only a piece of a bigger one."

"I'm worried about you Tom."

"Don't worry Ma. I'll be alright. Don't worry about a thing."

(Tom leaves and his mother begins to weep. Pa comes out and stands beside her)

"I miss the ol' place Ma. I miss California and my barbecue and my big screen TV. Don't you miss them things too?"

"No Pa, I think I like it fine right here. I think I'm gonna like Hudson's Bay. Rose of Sharon's gonna have her baby and we'll get a new start up here where the air and the water is clean and it ain't 105 degrees inside the house everyday. Yep. I think I'm gonna like it here just fine."

(And so they leave their California home behind, settle in the promised land, and live like people. The End)

Joy, Fun, Seasons in the (blistering) Sun

Keeping in mind songwriter Steve Goodman's admonition that "It ain't hard to live with somebody else's troubles", let me just say that it's been hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, HOT around here. Yeah, I know nobody cares and besides, it's been hot everywhere this summer, but this is my blog and I'll whine about the weather if I want to.

Truth is, when it's this crazy hot all you can think about is the heat. War, famine, economic collapse -- geez, those things can wait. Right now all I care about is a cool breeze. Unfortunately it's been about 2 weeks since we've had one of those, and the way I see it at this point only one of two things is going to happen. Either this heat wave is going to break or the sun is going to run out of hydrogen, and since this heat wave seems intent on staying put I'm placing my money on the sun.

So how hot is it I hear the blogosphere asking. Well, today we finally got a bit of a cooldown here in San Jose as the temperature dropped below the triple digits, that's how hot it is. Of course people are talking about global warming and I don't know if that has anything to do with it. I always thought global warming was about the glaciers melting and sea levels rising and all that sort of thing. I don't recall them mentioning that the famous Bay Area fog bank was going to go away or that California was going to become Arizona. And you know what? When you get right down to it I don't want to live in Phoenix, and I resent not having a say in the matter. But that's what's happened. Looks like Mohammad wouldn't go to the mountain so the mountain...well, you know the rest.

Anyways, what else is going on. Let's see. Seems Israel and Lebannon...aw forget about it. It's too hot to blog. On the weather report last night they showed satellite photos of a big bank of fog just sitting there off the coast of California and poised for an inland push that would bring cool relief to the millions of sweltering but appreciative Bay Areans. And there it is, all that fog, just SITTING THERE! NOT MOVING!!! It's cruel, like showing a glass of water to thirsty man and then dangling it just outside his reach. Not even nature can be that cruel, can it? No, of course not. The fog should get here before too long and even tonight, as I sit outside and tap away on my computer, I can feel just the faintest hint of breeze push over my arms and along the back of my neck. Oh, if only I could fall asleep and wake to a cold fog streaming through the Golden Gate, putting a nasty chill into my bones.

(sigh)

Maybe by this weekend. Until then we bake, and if this is that global warming thing that everyone is talking about then I just wish that Al Gore or whoever is responsible would stop it. I got to get some sleep, man.

Oh, and about all this stuff happening in the Middle East. I think what we need to do to get this situation solved is send over Sharron Angle. Who's she? ? Well, she's running for Congress over in Nevada and I happened to catch one of her TV ads when I was up at Lake Tahoe. It wasn't really much of an ad until the very end where she promised that if elected she will "Stop the terrorists." Yeah, that's her campaign promise. She even put it up on the screen so everyone could see it. Elect Sharron Angle and she'll stop the terrorists.

Whew. I'm glad that problem's solved.

Dead Cat Searches the Want Ads


"Good afternoon."

"Hello. Uh, good afternoon."

"May I help you?"

"Yes. I'd like to be a terrorist."

"A what?"

"A terrorist. I heard you were looking for new recruits and I'd like to be a terrorist."

"I think maybe you have the wrong office."

"No, no. This is the place. A friend told me to come here."

"And this friend. He is CIA?"

"No. Not at all"

"I think maybe you are CIA?"

"No. Honest. I want to be a terrorist."

"MI-6?"

"Are you looking for terrorists or not? Because if you aren't I'm sure there's someone else down the street who'll want me."

"We are a highly secretive organization. Do you think we can't just let anyone walk in off the street and become a terrorist? Surely you can understand?"

"I want to wear high explosives and blow myself up."

"Yes, yes, of course you do. I understand, believe me. (sigh) Ok, I don't believe you are not CIA. And you are eager. Maybe I can be of some help. You say you want to be a terrorist. What are your qualifications? Do you have any references or prior experience?"

"References? No one told me I'd need references."

"Well, would you characterize yourself as ruthless? Sadistic? Brutally indifferent?"

"I don't know. I..."

"Intolerant? Fanatical? A slave to ideology?"

"I...uh...I..."

"Do you like to read Ann Coulter?"

"Why no."

"Too bad. Perhaps you are not the right type of person to be a terrorist."

"But..."

"Why do you want to be a terrorist anyways? What is your motivation?"

"To bring death to the infidels?"

"Yes, yes, but besides that. Why do you come here today? Is it power you seek?"

"No. I don't think so. "

"Is it fame? Your picture on TV?"

"No. Well, yeah, sure, that would be nice. I guess..."

"Is it martyrdom? Is that what you're after?"

"Yeah, that's it. Martyrdom. I want to be a martyr, you know."

"What do you know about martyrdom? Tell me."

"Well, it's like my friend was telling me. You blow yourself up and you get to be like a hero. And everyone praises you, and..."

"Yes."

"Well, my friend said that you get to sleep with 70 virgins."

"Uh-huh. The virgins. I thought so."

"Is it true? Do they really let you sleep with 70 virgins if you, you know, become a martyr."

"Well, not exactly. If you die a martyr then God will give you 70 virgins and 70 wives and everlasting happiness."

"You mean in heaven?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Oh, my friend didn't tell me that. You mean you gotta die first before they let you sleep with the virgins?"

"What did you think? You must die a martyr and then God will give you 70 virgins and everlasting happiness."

"Well that's a bunch of crap. Isn't there anyway I can sleep with the 70 virgins before I blow myself up?"

"No. How is this possible?"

"A loan, maybe. You know, like sleep with the virgins now and pay later. Can you do that? Can you get the virgins on credit?"

"You must die a martyr and then you will get the virgins. That is how it is written, that is how it must be."

"I see. Well that kind of puts a damper on things. So tell me. How can I be sure I'll get the virgins once I'm a martyred? I mean, is there a guarantee? Can I have it in writing?"

"It is God's word. That is enough."

"Yeah, right, well that's that I guess. How about this? Can I sleep with one virgin before I blow myself up? Just to see if I like it. "

"No. To do such a thing would be a sin against God. The Imam forbids it. We would have to cut off your head if such a thing were to happen."

"Alright, alright. Doesn't hurt to ask."

"A martyr's rewards will come to him. It is God's word."

"Ok, let's say I do decide to become a terrorist. What then?"

"We will train you and tie a bomb around your belly and send you somplace to blow yourself up."

"Like where. Where will you send me?"

"I don't know. London, Paris, America perhaps."

"America?"

"Yes, America."

"Ok, now I know you're BS'ing me. "

"What are you talking about?"

"You're going to send me to America, to be a martyr, so I can sleep with 70 virgins. Dude, where are you going to find 70 virgins in America?"

"The virgins will be in heaven, you stupid...Look, maybe you wouldn't make such a good terrorist after all. Please don't take offense but perhaps this is not a job for someone like you. "

"You got that right. I admit it sounded like fun at first, but geez, you didn't tell me I'd have to find 70 American virgins. Man, by the time I do that I'll be to old to be a terrorist. Listen, whatever you're name is, let me ask you something. What are you trying to accomplish with all these suicide attacks anyways?"

"Accomplish? Hah. Don't you see? The people tremble in terror and fear our wrath. The world will have to answer to our holy cause or suffer the consequences."

"Funny thing about that. See, I don't think the world is trembling in terror. I think right now the world is drinking a beer and watching football. Sure, you make the evening news but after the news is over the world just keeps getting fatter and richer while you hide out in bunkers and safe houses scared to death that someone's going to recognize you and drop a bomb on you. Seems to me like you're the ones living in fear, not them."

"This is jihad. We will not rest until the world gives us justice and surrenders to us all it's wealth and power."

"And you seriously think that's going to happen."

"Even if it takes one thousand years."

"And in the meantime you're just gonna keep blowing yourselves up."

"Yes, this is a holy cause."

"So is peace. So are mercy, tolerance and forgiveness."

"You do not understand. Please, do me a favor."

"Yes?"

"Read Ann Coulter."

I Love You California

Greetings from California, where once again it's an election year and the governor is on the comeback trail. As you might recall this blog pronounced Arnold's candidacy "dead in the water" a few months back, but as so often happens circumstances have changed and the Governator is lengthing his lead in the polls and it appears I may have been a bit premature in my judgement. So what's behind this remarkable change?

Well the governor did manage to get a budget passed reasonably close to the deadline. He also named Susan Kennedy, a leading democrat in the state, to be his new Chief of Staff. He's given some speeches on the environment and proposed some pro-environmental legislation. He's found money for the schools, and colleges, and state parks, etc... He's made nice with the unions, shaken some hands, kissed a few babies and generally stopped frightening the pants off of the state's middle-of-the-road voters. The Democrats still don't like him, of course, and more than a few Republicans are beginning to wonder where his loyalties lay, but all in all most average folk who don't have a particular bone to pick are beginning to cut him a little slack. However, that said, if I had to point to one thing, one single factor that could account for Arnold's recent surge in the polls it would be this:

Phil "the Pill" Angelides.

Yep. You gotta love those Democrats, and on behalf of the governor I'd personally like to thank them for making this excellent choice. Not that Phil "the Pill" can't win, mind you. Arnold is a wounded politician in this state. Even so you've gotta be more than a little awed and amazed that the Democrats still managed to select probably the only politician in the entire state of California who could lose to him. Let's face it guys, Phil Angelides is to charisma what Dick Cheney is to sensitivity and warmth.

As if that weren't enough, Angelides further enhanced his chances of victory by announcing that if elected he will raise between $5 billion and $10 billion in new taxes. This only confirmed the belief already engrained in many voters minds that the Democrats never met any problem that the government couldn't solve by taking a bigger percentage of their paychecks. Combine that with the impression of Angelides standing at the podium surrounded by the state's most powerful union leaders, their hands outstretched and and their mouths speaking the words to which Angelides moved his lips, and you complete the picture of the big spending, big government Democrat.

Sensing trouble, the dems recently flew in Hilary Rodham Clinton to inject a little energy into the Angelides campaign. That was quite a scene too - maybe you saw it. An animated Rodham Clinton exhorting the troops while Phil "the Pill" stood there looking like he was waiting for a bus. I could only imagine what must have been going through the governator's mind as he watched it. "Yes! I own this guy! Ha, ha, ha."

But, like I said, Arnold doesn't have this thing wrapped up quite yet. We Californians must never forget the man's uncanny ability to walk in the sun in newly shined oxfords and step right into a pile of fresh dog poo. It's only July and there are still 4 more months for Arnold to say something stupid and send his poll numbers sinking into the gutter.

Stay tuned folks. It's gonna be a long, hot summer.

A Blank Page, An Empty Mind, and This is What You Get

Greetings again from California, where the big news this week is a big wad of high pressure that has parked itself over the Great Basin and is now smothering the state under a blanket of hot, dusty, smoggy, smelly air. That's not a big deal if you live in L.A. or the Central Valley or anyplace where people have had the foresight and good sense to equip themselves with air conditioning, but here in the Bay Area where we forego artifical air conditioning and count instead on cool banks of Pacific fog to roll in each night and bring us relief, things have been pretty miserable. Particularly here in the South Bay where natural air currents push the noxious fumes produced up north into the bowl of the Santa Clara Valley, collecting themselves into a thick, smoggy goo.

Which brings me to this one, somewhat related question. Why is it , I ask, that out of all the people on the local newscast, only the weatherperson is allowed to hedge and lie? The reporters and anchors aren't allowed to lie. They can't get up there and say that a building's on fire or the mayor held a news conference without at least some pictures to back them up. The sports person can't get up there and say the score was around 7 to 5 or that the A's might be in first place. They've got have the numbers. They've got to know the score. But the weatherperson...

The weatherperson can get up there and lie through his or her teeth and no one says anything about it. And they do it all the time.

"The temperature today in San Jose was 95 degrees."

Bull! I don't know what thermometer he's looking at but mine is reading closer to 101.

"Expect highs in the low 90's".

Are you kidding me? It was already 80 degrees when I walked out of the house this morning. Are you talking 90 degrees Fahrenheit or Celsius?

These weatherpeople, I tell ya'. They give these five day forecasts like they're wizards or sorcerers or something, and then they can't even get the temperatures right. And everybody just plays along like that's the way it's supposed to be. "Don't blame me, I'm only the messenger", they say. "I just report the weather, I don't make it." Oh yeah, well I think you're lying. How do I know you don't make the weather? I mean, I just have to take your word for it, don't I? For all I know this whole weather thing could be part of big conspiracy. Part of the War on Terror or something. First they're telling you that Iraq has all these WMD's, and then they're telling you they can't do anything about the weather. Hmmph, that's what I say.

Whatever happened to the good ol' days? Remember that? Remember when you could trust the weather report? Remember way back when the weatherperson used to stand up next to a big piece of plexiglass or something like that and draw the weather for the audience with a big grease pen. Remember that? They used to draw those funny looking lines with little pennants hanging from 'em and tell you all about the high pressure and the low pressure, and even though you couldn't make heads or tails of any of it and all the little strings of flags looked more like something you'd see at a used car lot than the weather, the weatherperson had more credibility back then. He seemed so scientific, and you just knew that he had to go to college in order to understand all those squiggly lines and pennants.

Now days, of course, everything is different. Computer graphics have arrived in the newsroom and now we get to look at satellite photos and radar images and cute little pictures that highly paid weather professionals working on $10,000 computer workstations spend countless billable hours putting together. Let's see, there's that picture of the cloud with all the little drops of rain falling down. That means it's going to rain. And there's that cute one of the sun peeking out from behind a cloud. That means partly cloudy. Oh, and there's that bright orange and red picture of the sun with the word "HOT" drawn in big yellow letters that means that it's gonna be another scorcher tomorrow. I guess it's an improvement over the squiggly lines. It's clearer anyways, but do you think they've gone too far? Do they really need to talk to us like we're a bunch of kindergartners? Personally, I'd rather get my weather from some whacko weather scientist than from Captain Kangaroo. "Hey Mr. Green Jeans, c'mon over here and tell the kids what's on tap for their holiday weekend."

Oh, I'm just kidding. We love our weatherpeople, but I do have one more question. We all know that when you fill a balloon with hot air the balloon becomes lighter and it rises. So how come when the air in the atmosphere heats up it sinks into heavy high pressure ridges? You know what I'm saying. Hot air in a balloon rises, but in a high pressure area the air gets hot and sinks. Doesn't that seem backwards?

Hah! Didn't think of that did you Mr. Weatherperson.

More Tales from The World of Money



Corporate Ethics 1966


"Why Miss Cerf, how are you? You're looking lovely today."

"Why thank you Mr. Masters. It's a fine evening, isn't it?"

"It certainly is. Say, you know I'm glad I ran into you. Fact is I've been meaning to talk to you for some time now, Miss Cerf."

"You have? About what?"

"I'd rather not discuss it out here in the lobby. Look, I know you're anxious to go home, but, if it isn't too much of an incovenience, would you mind stepping into my office for a minute?"

"Your office? Well...I guess so. Is there something wrong?"

"Oh no, nothing like that. I just have something I'd like to talk to you about, that's all. If you have the time, that is. Is this a bad time?"

"No, not at all. I was just on my way home, but I wasn't in any hurry."

"Good. Good. Well, follow me, then. We'll ride up together."

(They take the elevator to the 50th floor and walk down the hall to Mr. Masters' office)

"You don't mind if I close the door, do you Miss Cerf? I don't want anyone to overhear our little chat."

"No, I don't mind."

"Good" he says as he closes the door. "Here, let me take your coat. Have a seat, Miss Cerf."

"Thank you."

"How long have you been with us now, Miss Cerf. Has it been 3 years already?"

"It'll be four years this October. October 15 is my anniversary date."

"Four years, my, my, my. Where does the time fly, huh?"

"Oh it's been wonderful here, Mr. Masters. Everyone's been so good to me and I've learned so much."

"Well I'm glad. You know we like to think of Swinger Industries as one, big, happy family. "

"Oh, it's true. Everyone's so nice."

"Why I remember the first day you started with us, Miss Cerf. You were just a skinny little kid back then, weren't you? Straight out of high school with no work experience and, well, look at you now."

"You remember me? Really? I had no idea."

"Oh yes, Miss Cerf. I had my eye on you from day one, and, let's just say that over these past few years I've been very interested in your development."

"Well I don't know what to say Mr. Masters. I really had no idea."

"The thing is, Miss Cerf, I think that maybe the time has come to get you out of the secretarial pool and into something, er, more suitable to your talents. You don't want to sit behind a typewriter the rest of your life, do you Miss Cerf?"

"No. I mean, it's a good job but I'd like to, you know..."

"You'd like more of a challenge, right? Maybe a promotion, a little extra money each month?"

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? A promotion? Oh, Mr. Masters, I..."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. Not so fast."

"I'm sorry. It's just that I thought..."

"Truth is we do have a position opening up here on the 50th floor. Just the sort of thing for a bright, energetic girl like yourself. But, I don't know. It's a big move and I'd like to know you a little better before I make a firm commitment. After all there are plenty of girls who've been working in the Secretarial Pool longer than you have and they might resent someone junior getting promoted ahead of them. If it's the right girl, though, then who cares. Let them get jealous. That's what I say."

"I see. Well, what would you like to know?"

"Heh, heh, heh. No, Miss Cerf. What I meant was that I'd like to get to know you, well, more informally, more personally. You know, find out what kind of girl you are outside of the office. I was thinking we could get together for a drink or something like that. Maybe go someplace where we can relax and let our hair down, if you know what I mean."

"A drink? Mr. Masters, I don't know. I mean, what if someone at the office should see us. What would they think?"

"You're right, you're right. What was I thinking. I mean, even though it would be completely innocent, well, you know how people talk."

"I appreciate the offer but..."

"Say, I've got an idea. Yeah, why didn't I think of that before? Miss Cerf, I think we're in luck. It just so happens my wife took the kids up to her mother's house yesterday and they're going to be gone for the entire week. Geez, it just completely slipped my mind. Tell you what. Why don't come over to my place and we can have a little drink and relax and get to know each other there. The house is empty and I'm sure no one will see us or bother us."

"Mr. Masters. You're house? I couldn't do that. I...I...I..."

"Why not?"

"Well, it's just that my sister's expecting me. I always go home right after work and if I don't show up she'll be so worried. Mr. Masters, you don't know how she gets when she worries. Oh, it's just terrible."

"So call her. Tell her you got tied up at the office and you'll be a little late. She'll understand."

"No. I mean, it wouldn't be right. Not with your wife and children gone and all..."

"Just one little drink. I promise. Nothing's going to happen. Miss Cerf, I hope you don't think I'd try to do anything improper or try to pull some kind of hanky-panky. I'm a very respected man, Miss Cerf and my reputation is..."

"No, no, Mr. Masters. I wasn't trying to imply anything like that. It's just that...well...you know I've had a busy day and I really should be going home. My sister will worry."

"Call your sister. Tell her you'll be okay and not to worry. Look, Miss Cerf, this is a very important position I'm trying to fill here. It would be quite a step up for you. I'd hate to think you'd pass up this opportunity because of a lack of trust. You know, opportunities like this don't come around everyday."

"..."

"Just a drink, I promise. We can relax, tell a few jokes, get to know each other, then I can know if I'm making the right decision or not. What do you say?"

"Just one drink? That's all?"

"I promise."

"Because I can only stay a minute. I really do have to get home. I can't stay too long"

"Miss Cerf."

"Yes?"

"Trust me."



Corporate Ethics 2006



"Hey Bob, can I see you for a moment?"

"Sure, Harry. What's up?"

"C'mon in. Close the door, would ya?"

"Yeah, sure thing. How's the arm?"

"Oh, still a little sore. Doc says I gotta cut back on my golf for a while, you know. Shit. What am I gonna do if I can't play golf all day. Sit around the office? Give me a break. Go on, have a seat."

"Thanks."

"Say Bob, I want to talk to you about last quarters financials. I've read the reports and I'm a little worried."

"Look, Harry. I admit we had a tough quarter but it's this goddamn economy. Shit, first it's that asshole Greenspan jacking up the interest rates and now we got this new asshole Bernanke walking around with his head up his ass."

"Yeah, I know Bob. The whole country's going to hell. Pretty soon the goddamn Chinese'll be running everything. But what about these numbers, Bob. You know we've got a shareholders meeting next month and..."

"Fuck the shareholders. All they ever care about is the share price. They don't know what we're facing here. The shareholders are just going to have to be patient, Harry. You talk to them. You're good at that."

"But Bob, I'm the Chairman of the Board. I'm supposed to be acting in the shareholders best interest here. You know we granted you a very nice incentive package in addition to a very generous salary on the condition that you perform, but, frankly, after losing a billion dollars last year I don't see how we can..."

"What are you saying Harry. You want me out, is that it?"

"..."

"..."

"Har, har, har, har, har, har, har... Had you going there didn't I. No, hell no. Like you said, fuck the shareholders. Look, I met this fella down in the Grand Caymans last year and I think maybe you should go have a talk with him. Real sharp fella, can work wonders on an Income Statement and Balance Sheet."

"What's his name?"

"I'll get his number for you. He's a real operator, if you know what I mean. Been to law school and all that. Knows every trick in the book. Tell you what, we'll let him massage the numbers a bit and those shareholder assholes won't know the difference."

"Sounds good Harry. Shit, you had me going there for a minute."

"Hah, almost pissed your pants didn't you. Har, har, har. Hey, about the bonus. How much do you think I should pay you for losing us a billion dollars last year?"

"I don't know. I could really use an extra 10 million or so."

"10 million? Quit thinking small potatoes, Bob. You'll never get anywhere thinking like that. Tell you what, how about we back date a few stock options and throw in an extra 80 million to sweeten the pot. That sound good to you?"

"Yeah. Thanks Harry."

"No problem. I'll send you that fella's number so you two can get in touch, ok?"

"Sure."

"I mean it. Clean up those numbers. I don't want to have a bunch of angry shareholders breathing down my neck. You hear?"

"Yeah."

"And you'll get it done before the next month's meeting?"

"Yeah, I'll get it done. Trust me."

The Greatest Guitarist No One Ever Heard Of.

I dropped out of school in 1978 so it had to be either '75 or '76 when Roy Buchanan gave a free concert at the local college. At least that's how I remember it, though to tell you the truth I'm not sure of the year or if the concert was free. Roy Buchanan was there. I do remember that.

I was still playing the guitar back then and was used to the "Roy who?" reactions I'd get whenever I mentioned his name. "Roy Buchanan", I'd say, "the greatest guitarist no one ever heard of."

That was his nickname back then, the result of a PBS documentary about him that aired in the early '70's. When Jeff Beck saw it he proclaimed Buchanan as the most amazing guitarist he'd ever seen. They would later become friends and Beck even dedicated his intrumental piece "Cause We've Ended as Lovers" to Roy Buchanan. Years later, Eric Clapton, then widely proclaimed as the best guitarist in the world, saw Roy Buchanan play a concert and conceded Buchanan, not he, was the best guitarist in the world. Countless others were influenced by him. Just listen to Santana's Moonflower album or anything by ZZ Top and you'll hear some of that trademark Buchanan sound.

So how come no one's ever heard of him? For one thing he was famous for shunning the spotlight, and once declared that nothing scared him more than being a pop star. But more than just his natural shyness, his anonymity also sprang largely from his uniqueness and free-spirited style of play. Ironically, the virtuosity and inventiveness that won him the respect of his fellow musicians mostly bored the broader rock and roll audiences as a whole. Buchanan eschewed electronics and pedal effects or anything that would distort his sound, and instead of the big and heavy head-banging guitar sound that audiences loved (and still love), he preferred to keep his playing tight and clean, favoring technique over volume and working his wizadry entirely within the strings and knobs of his telecaster.


The audience didn't go for it, and Buchanan enjoyed only limited commercial success. I remember reading or hearing an interview many years ago where Jimmy Page, then the lead guitarist with the rock group Led Zeppelin, was asked his opinion of some of the leading guitarists at the time. When Roy Buchanan's name was mentioned Page replied "a guitarist's guitarist." That was the real story of Roy Buchanan. Extremely talented, but ultimately just a musician's musician.

So when I went to see him play at the local college I wasn't expecting much of a crowd, and it was a pretty sparse audience that night. They had set up a little wooden stage on the lawn next to the college chapel, and Roy walked out with his band and proceeded to play some of the most amazing guitar I've ever seen. The small crowd turned out to be a blessing in disguise because that meant that I was able to stand right next to the stage, not 8 feet away from the famed guitarist. Like I said, I used to play a little guitar myself back in those days and flattered myself that I was picking up a few licks while I stood there watching him dominate that ol' telecaster of his, but that was purely conceit on my part. He was simply a master of that instrument, and I was unbelievably lucky to be able to stand so close and watch his fingers dance over those frets. (Just imagine standing on stage next to Hilary Hahn and watch her play the Schoenberg concerto to get some idea what the experience was like) It seemed like such a simple instrument in his hands, even though I knew better.

Anyways, Buchanan died in 1988 and while it would be nice to say that a whole new generation has discovered his music, that would be a lie. Just as it would be nice to say that he left a great library of music behind, but that would be a lie too. Throughout his career Buchanan was the constant victime of producers and record companies that tried to turn him into something else, be that country picker or rock god or blues legend - anything they could market and sell. Unfortunately the results were mostly uneven or just plain disastrous. A summer night on a tiny stage in front of a sparse crowd where he felt free to explore and innovate was where Buchanan was at his best.

Luckily, through the magic of the internet, you can still hear and see some of his work. I don't think there are any great Buchanan albums, but if I had to pick one track to listen to it would be Ramon's Blues, a bluesy duet he recorded with Steve Cropper on the Loading Zone LP. There are also these two Youtube links. Although not definitive by any means, they do give a small taste of what he was all about.

Sweet Dreams: A Buchanan classic from his first LP. This record introduced the world to Buchanan's trademark use of controlled harmonics - the high pitched whistling sound created by simultaneously picking and dampening the string as it is plucked. Over the years just about every guitarist would copy the sound. Just think of ZZ Top's Billy Gibbons who cites Buchanan as a major influence of his style.

Roy's Blues: This clip shows just a little of Buchanan's free spirited and explosive style of playing. To say that Roy didn't follow the rules has to be the understatement of all-time.

Screens Get Bigger and Pictures Get Smaller

Vloggercon came to San Francisco last week, and I have to say that outside of a tight circle of geeks and assorted weirdos the entire event went pretty much unnoticed around here. I didn't attend myself because (1) I never heard of Vloggercon before, and (2) even if I had heard of it I wouldn't know what the hell it was. But I have a good idea that it was a conference for all the folks doing those newfangled things called video blogs or vlogs, or what I like to call video podcasts.

Now we all know what podcasts are. At least we should know. In fact, if you don't what podcasts are by now then I'd say maybe you should just forget the whole tech revolution and go back to paper and pencil and rubbing two sticks together to make fire. For the sake of this blog, though, I'll just assume we all know what podcasts are.

Now, podcasts are great. In fact, the first time I subscribed to one and downloaded it to my mp3 player I knew right away that this was the way to go. Finally, podcasting gave the listener the means to break away from the interminable sameness of commercial radio and find creative new voices and refreshing new ideas. I liked podcasting from the first moment I heard it, and can't imagine ever going back to the days of searching the dial for interesting things to listen to.

So, just as podcasting changed the audio experience, video blogging has also changed the video experience. Right? Right? Well...

I think there is really one basic difference between podcasting and video blogging. Namely, the time and effort that goes into a podcast versus the time and effort that goes into a video blog. One of the things that has made podcasting so successful is that it is cheap and easy to do and literally anyone with a microphone and a computer can do it. That means geeks can do it, but chefs and artists and sports fans and whoever else wants to give it a try can do it too. Even catholic priests can do it for crying out loud, and the great diversity of voices and talents is what makes podcasting so much fun.

Video blogs, on the other hand, suck.

I mean I want to be fair and I certainly can't claim to have seen every video blog out there, but believe me I've seen enough of 'em to know they suck. Maybe it's because the barrier to entry is high and you don't have as big a pool of potential video bloggers as podcasters, but for whatever reason I've yet to find a video blog that wasn't a complete waste of time and bandwidth. If you don't believe me then just take a look at Rocketboom, currently the king of the video blogs. Just go to the website and watch an episode and see if you can figure out what all the excitement is about. Lord knows, I can't, although I think it has something to do with the whole "Indie" movement that seems to be taking the world by storm. You know, if something is "Indie" then that implies a chic coolness, regardless of whether it's any good or not. That, as far as I can figure , is what the Rocketboom phenomena is about. If you ask me it's just a bunch of empty calories. Pretty to look at and not much nutritional value.

What really gets me about the video blogging thing, though, is why do people subscribe to these things when there is so much good video available on the web. Here are a few examples -

ABC.com
DL.tv
Crankygeeks.com
Youtube.com

And on and on and on. There's so much video happening on the web these days it just seems pointless to waste time on the vlogs. Rocketboom? Let me tell you, you'll get more content in just one segment of DL.tv or Crankygeeks than in a whole month of Rocketbooms. And there are other shows on the web that are just as good.

Vloggercom? Bah, humbug. Let's talk about video that's worth watching, and for the rest just stick with podcasting. Speaking of podcasting, here are a couple:

Thomas Edison's Attic: This is actually a real radio show that's produced by a station out in New Jersey. Luckily, they also syndicate it out as a podcast for those of us who don't happen to live in New Jersey. The show is produced by the Edison National Historic Site and every couple of weeks they broadcast some vintage recordings from Thomas Edison's collection of late 19th and early 20th century wax cylinders. If you're at all interested in early recorded music then you'll want to subscribe to this podcast. Excellent!

SMTV: Samantha Murphy is a working musician who travels the country doing interviews and highlighting the works of other "Indie" musicians (there's that word again). It's an interesting look at bands who are working and recording and yet haven't been able to make that next big step into stardom. I can't say I like all the bands she features, but I like hearing their stories. What do you do if you're a struggling band? Do you strike out on your own and be the master of your own destiny, happy just to make a living doing what you love, or do you wait for that big record deal, surrendering control for the big shows and the mega-bucks? A lot of bands are trying to figure that out these days. Samantha Murphy likes to joke about her "five listeners", but I think she's got a few more subscribers than that.

And while I'm on this linking thing, one more Youtube link. This one is a 10 minute short made back in the 1940's and features two legends of the saxophone. The first half features Lester Young playing in his intimate, soulful style, and the second half features Illinois Jacquet picking it up and getting sassy. Of course there's a whole cast of musicians playing with them but those two are the stars.

The World's Library


Let's face it. If you're an old geezer like me (and if you're reading this blog then you probably are) then the internet can seem pretty hostile and strange sometimes. So much of it is about being young, hip and cool, and gray-haired toothless types like us have got to wonder what all the fuss is about. Sure you can track your investments or research whatever disease you think you're coming down with, but that's not where the "buzz" is. No, the "buzz" these days is all about social networking and Web 2.0, not the retirement calculator over at the AARP website.

So, with that in mind, I want to talk about Youtube. If you're over the age of forty I'd say the odds are probably 1 in 5 that you've ever heard of it. On the other hand, if you're under the age of 21 and you haven't heard of it then you are like "so don't get it". Well, I'm over forty and even though I'm way past the age of being either hip or cool I've been over to the site a few times just to check it out, and I have to say....

I don't get it.

Well, actually I do get it. Sure, if you're 16 years old what could be cooler than making some kind of off-the-wall (i.e. "indie") video and posting it to the web. That's what Youtube is, you see. It's a place to post videos and share them with other Youtube users. And if you're of a certain age then one of the things to do these days is to go over to Youtube and check out the latest totally killer videos. If you want to be au courant, that is.

Yeah, seems pretty harmless. I've got no criticism of the whole thing really, but I can't help but wonder if I was so easily entertained when I was 16. Oh hell, I probably was.

I wouldn't have brought the whole thing up if it wasn't for something I discovered on Youtube a couple of weeks ago. I was just digging around you see and thinking what a gigantic waste of time the whole thing was, when all of a sudden there, hidden behind all the highest rated and most watched videos I found a whole other secret place in Youtube. Not the sort of place the kids would go, mind you, and not the sort of place the advertise on the front page, but there it was, down among the dusty old shelves in the basement where old fuds like me have been quietly amassing an amazing collection of videos that aren't about the latest TV shows or off-the-wall antics. No, just clear away the cobwebs and pry open some of those crates and you know what you'll find?

Culture.

Honest. No kidding. I wouldn't lie about this. Culture right there in dark and dusty bowels of Youtube.com. I couldn't believe it at first because, I mean, where are you going to find culture these days? On TV? At the movie theater? In the schools? Give me a break. Symphonies are going broke and schools can't cut their arts education programs fast enough.

But it's there on Youtube. Unfortunately, you have to dig to find it, and that's the adventure of the whole enterprise I suppose. That's also why I've become such a Youtube junkie. The search for hidden treasures, it turns out, is a lot of fun.

Rather than blabber on and on about this I thought I'd post a few links and give a few examples of what I've found. This is some of the stuff that turns me on. You'll have to find what turns you on for yourself.

Opera:

Vissi d'arte from Puccini's opera Tosca, as sung by Leontyne Price. Her fans consider Leontyne Price to be the greatest soprano of her era. Listen to this clip of her singing one of Puccini's most famous arias and see if you don't agree. Can anyone argue about the beauty and richness of her tone or her incredible power and control?

E Lucevan le stelle from Puccini's opera Tosca, as sung by Mario Lanza. This one was a real suprise. I remember Mario Lanza from those old Hollywood musicals but I had no idea he could sing opera. This was really a revelation for me. Such a clear, ringing and powerful tenor. Why didn't he pursue opera seriously?


Classical:

Vladimir Horowitz playing Chopin's Polonaise Op. 53 in A Flat Major. The famous Russina pianist playing one of Chopin's most famous Polonaise's.


Arturo Rubinstein playing Chopin's Polonaise Op. 53 in A Flat Major. The famous Polish pianist playing one of of Chopin's most famous Polonaise's. I love this because you can compare and contrast 2 musical legends playing the same piece. Horowitz who seems to attack the piece and wrestle with it, and Rubinstein who sits back with his eyes almost closed and just lets the music flow spontaneously from his soul to the keyboard. I'll leave it to you to decide which is better.

Jascha Heifetz playing the Paganini Caprice No. 24. What can I say. The man was a legend.


Jazz:

Miles Davis and John Coltrane play So What. Here's Miles and Trane playing one of the most famous jazz compositions ever recorded. Not quite the original cast and I'm really not too good at picking out the players, however I believe that's Paul Chambers on bass, Jimmy Cobb on drums, Wynton Kelly on piano, and John Coltrane on sax, along with a host of others.

Miles Davis plays So What with his legendary quintet. Ok, here's another compare and contrast. This is the legendary quintet of Miles on trumpet, Wayne Shorter on sax, Herbie Hancock on piano, Ron Carter on bass and Tony Williams on drums.

John Coltrane and Eric Dolphy play Impressions. Kind of a historical oddity. At the time I believe the critics labeled the music these two were making as "antijazz".


Just for fun:

Ruth Etting in Roseland. If you've read this blog then you'll know I'm a big Ruth Etting fan. What I want to know is where did this guy ever find this video! Not the best song Ruth Etting ever sung, but quite a rarity.

The Rhythm Boys singing "So the Blackbirds and the Bluebirds Got Together". Another rarity. So who were the Rhythm Boys? Check out the funny looking guy on the end. He got started with the Rhythm Boys but soon struck out on his own. Did kind of well for himself, too.

The Beatles - Hey Jude. I remember when they played this video on the Smother Brothers. How long ago was that? Oh man, I don't want to think about it.

The Balls are Flyin' Here in the City of Mahoganny

Two months ago, when the news was full of the Barry Bonds steroids scandal, I predicted that in another sixty days the whole thing would be forgotten. As long as Bonds kept hitting 'em out of the ballpark, I said, no one would care too much about steroids or growth hormones or any of the rest of it. Well, sixty days have passed and even though the steroids story hasn't disappeared completely from the news, it's clearly not the scandal it was a couple of months ago.

In fact, as I write this Bonds is closing in on Babe Ruth's record and news people from all over the world are flocking to San Francisco to cover it. Bonds' "quest for history" is what one local newscast is calling it, "epic achievement" is what I read in the paper, and it just seems like everyone wants to be here to witness baseball's greatest achievement by baseball's greatest player.

Don't want to gloat but I told you so.

What I couldn't predict was the backlash heaped upon the poor unfortunate's who authored a book and ignited the whole scandal in the first place. Rather than receiving acclaim and appreciation for "Game of Shadows" , the 2 authors have received subpoena's instead and been asked to disclose the source of the grand jury leaks . That's what's called an ironic twist. Instead of Bonds going to jail he goes to the Hall of Fame, and it's the author's who may end up doing time. Now isn't that a slap in the face. At least it is for the authors. Baseball fans are loving it.

Which only goes to prove my other point that fans really don't care about this steroids thing as much as people suppose they do. Sure, they'd rather that the players weren't doing drugs and doping up and all that, but as long as the players keep it private and out of the papers then it's nothing for the fans to worry about. Don't ask, don't tell is what they call it, and the last thing anyone wants to see is a lot of snoopy reporters sticking their noses in the player's business and ruining things for everyone else.

Of course there is just one more little fly in the ointment I haven't mentioned. Seems baseball has decided to launch an independent investigation headed by former senator George Mitchell to look into these steroid accusations. Some are calling it a PR move but others are afraid it may be more serious than that. I'm sure baseball is hoping it's nothing serious or they could find themselves on the wrong side of the fans. Which brings me to my next prediction. I predict that the commission will investigate the matter and find either (a) the steroid accusations are wildly overblown in which case baseball will breathe a sigh of relief, or (b) that there is rampant steroid use throughout the game in which case baseball will show shock and concern and then quietly bury the whole thing. In either case, however, baseball will not provoke it's fans nor put it's ticket sales in danger.

And that's all I can say about that. Face you old fart traditionlists out there, it's the new baseball and Bonds is it's greatest player. Might as well drink your beer and enjoy your peanuts because the old days are gone forever. And until some new drug is discovered and some new superstar comes along, Bonds is master of this game. After that, who knows. 1,000 home runs? 2,000 home runs? In one season? Stay tuned - you won't want to miss an action-packed moment.

A Farewell, and then Forever


As a rule I try not to blog about celebrities, but sometimes you just have to say something. Like it or not, certain celebreties become important fixtures in our lives and leave us feeling a little bit older and emptier when they're gone. I felt it when John Lennon died, and then again when James Stewart died, and now I feel it again with the passing of Louis Rukeyser.

So what was it that made Louis Rukeyser so invaluable? I think it was this. The investing world has always been full of touts and self-promoters - those who claim inside knowlege or omniscience or the ability to predict the future. In fact, for many individual investors the whole basis of stock market investing is nothing more than seeking out these wizards for their " hot tips" and "inside scoops". Rukeyser and his panelists on Wall Street Week in Review were different. Instead of "hot tips" Rukeyser's prgram was all about the facts and healthy doses of common sense. That's why viewers faithfully tuned-in each Friday night and read his newsletters and attended his seminars. They were there to learn the investing basics, and they trusted that Rukeyser wasn't going to try to confuse them with a lot of jargon or claim to know the unknowable.

Over the years, as a faithful viewer myself, I got to see the him interview countless Wall Street movers and shakers, from both the fundamental and technical side of the investing spectrum, and I think it's fair to say that not once did I ever see Rukeyser let a guest blow a lot of smoke on his show and get away with it. If something wasn't clear the guest was asked to clarify it. If an outlandish claim was made then he was asked to justify it, and all the time Rukeyser would be probing with his unique blend of skepticism and wit. In this way I think millions of americans got to see that investing wasn't voodoo or black magic but rather an informed strategy based upon research and (here's that phrase again) common sense.

It would be a fitting tribute to Louis Rukeyser and Wall Street Week to say that his show changed the world and we are all better investors for having watched it, but unfortunately, for the vast majority of us, investing is the same today as it always was. Bring up the stock market in any casual conversation and it won't be long before someone asks you for a hot tip. Seldom does anyone ask for a strategy. But that wasn't his failure. Rather, the fact that so many learned so much from watching his show was his great success.

The most peculiar thing about Louis Rukeyser's death, at least for me, is that he was the same age when he died as my father was when he died, and he died of the very same disease. Multiple Myeloma took my father's life at age 73 (actually it was complications from the disease), and Mulitple Myeloma also took Louis Rukeyser's death at age 73. I won't say his passing is like losing a second father. No one could ever replace my father and frankly, Louis Rukeyser and I weren't that close. But I do feel like I lost an old friend.

May he Rest In Peace.

One other item in the news that caught my eye. In case you haven't heard Microsoft announced they were getting into the TV show biz today. Well, not exactly the cable TV show biz or the over-the-air TV biz but the internet TV biz. Turns out they are going to start producing original content for the MSN internet service through a service they're calling (suprise) MSN Originals. Geez, I hate to be negative but doesn't this seem like it's going to be one big...

DUD!

I mean, I wish Microsoft the best of luck with this but their track record for new initiatives hasn't been too spectacular lately. MSN search vs. Google? Dud. Plays for Sure vs. IPod? Dud. Origami? Dud. And now they're going to get in the TV business? Well, we all now how easy that's going to be. Just ask the WB and UPN how easy it is to come up with new, audience-grabbing content. Should be no problem.

Not that I'm one to criticize, mind you, because I know nothing about primetime TV. If they asked me how to make a hit show I wouldn't have a clue, although I do have this idea for live opera broadcasts on the internet. That'd be a hit, wouldn't it? I'm sure there are at least a couple dozen other people who'd like to see that too. Then again maybe not, and anyways I think MSN is going after a bigger demographic.

And who better to know what's hip with today's 18-34 year olds than Bill Gates.

Yeah, hate to say it but I just get a bad feeling about this MSN Originals thing. Not that I think it's a bad idea. In fact, if I was a betting man I'd wager that Microsoft is probably onto something here. The trouble is they won't be able to execute on it and some younger, hipper company is going to come along and eat their lunch. That seems to be their process these days. But then again, who knows. Good luck Microsoft, and I can't wait for the first show.

Three Reasons Why You Should Never Blog When You're Tired

I had this idea for a political cartoon but unfortunately I can't draw so I'll have to describe it instead. It takes place in front of the capitol, and out in front there's a long continuous line of SUV's all climbing the hill with banners on the back saying "$3.00 a gallon gas", and in one of the SUV's there's this big fat guy leaning out the window and looking at the capitol with his fist in the air, and the caption reads "It's all your fault!"

Yeah, I know, pretty lame, but then I'm no cartoonist.

And that's not what I wanted to talk about anyways. What I want to talk about is Eric Steel. If you don't know who Eric Steel is then let's just say he is an important filmaker. How do we know he is an important filmaker? Well, because he's made an important film, that's how. Please, read on. This is very important.

Apparently, Eric Steel asked officials with the Golden Gate National Recreation Area for permission to film the Golden Gate Bridge for a series of movies he was making on national monuments. Naturally, the bridge officials agreed and so Mr. Steel set up cameras that would shoot continuously throughout the daylight hours for most of 1994. That's a lot of footage, but it was for a good cause. Right?

Well, turns out our filmaker wasn't being exactly honest with the bridge officials. Instead, what he really wanted to shoot was not the bridge but people jumping off the bridge and comitting suicide. Not actors, mind you, but actual people jumping to their deaths. That meant he was able to film about 19 successful attempts during this period along with numerous aborted attempts as well. All he had to do was go through the footage, find all the good parts, and edit it something an audience could enjoy. Swell guy, this Mr. Eric Steel.

So there you have it. I guess the movie is finished now and awaiting release, and sure to be a hit with audiences bored by all the simulated violence they have had to witness over the years. Now, at last, we have a movie where audiences can go and see the real thing. Real human beings dying on film. "Kind of sick" you may be saying to yourself, "controversial" say others, not realizing that in these modern times, words like "sick" and "controversial" are just mediaspeak terms for...

"important."

You can practically hear the critics now. "Most important film of the year from one of America's most important filmakers." The folks associated with the bridge aren't to thrilled with it all, of course, and some are calling for renewed efforts to erect suicide barriers along the bridge, a move that would save lives but would diminish the aesthetic aspects of the world's most beautiful bridge. It's not an easy call.

I'm of two minds on this myself. Sure, we all want to save lives but there are other things to consider. I mean, if they erect the barriers how would people like Eric Steel get their kicks? Has anyone thought of that? This is an important filmaker we're talking about. Not some sick bastard who's looking to draw attention to himself by exploiting the misery and suffering of others. If they do build the barriers what will that do to him? Poor, miserable SOB. Perhaps he can find some other important project to enlighten us with. Something like child molestation perhaps? Sure, instead of just talking about it, why not shoot a film where we get to see actual children being sodomized on camera? Huh, don't tell me that wouldn't be important.

(I'm just kidding by the way. I know how seriously people take these blogs sometimes.)

Well, enough of that. If you want to read about Eric Steel the story can be found here. Now on to other (more important) things.


Do you live in California and, if you do, have you ever heard of the transfer tax? If you ever bought a home in California and actually managed to make it all the way through all the little numbers in your final closing papers then you might have. If not then let me explain.

The transfer tax is levied by your County Recorder when your Deed is presented to them for entry into the Official Record. This is a complicated process which involves stamping the document, photocopying it, and stuffing it in an envelope to be mailed back to you. In California all counties charge the same transfer tax of $0.55 per $500. That is, you take the sales price (or fair market value) of the property and divide that number by $500, rounded up to the next even multiple of $500, and then multiply the quotient by 0.55 to arrive at your final tax. For example, for a typical California home selling for around $700,000 you would divide 700,000 by 500 and then multiply by 0.55 to arrive at a tax of $770.

Ok, so what's the big deal. Well, it's not really a big deal, but did you also know that certain cities in California also charge their own separate transfer taxes that are levied in addition to the transfer taxes levied by the counties? If you read your closing papers you did, but in case you didn't then I found this great little website called dirtlawyer.com which gives an interesting breakdown of all the various transfer taxes charged by cities and counties in California. Quite an eye-opener if you're considering buying or selling property out here.

The good news is that in 47 out of 58 counties no additional city taxes are levied at all, and in the remaining counties only some of the major cities have such levies. In Santa Clara County, for examle, only the cities of San Jose, Palo Alto and Mt. View have the tax at a somewhat reasonable rate of $3.30 per $1000. Sonoma and Yolo Counties have much lower rates than ours (Cloverdale in Sonoma County, for example, only charges $1.10 per $1,000), but what really caught my attention was the incredibly high amounts charged by some other California cities. In San Francisco, for example, the rate is $6.80 per $1,000 for our hypothetical $700,000 home, but that pales in comparison to the taxes charged across the bay in Alameda County, where the cities of Oakland and Berkely charge a whopping $15 per 1,000.

Are you kidding me?

That means on a $700,000 home in Oakland, Alameda County would charge a $770 transfer tax and the City of Oakland would levy an additional $10,500, bringing the total transfer tax bill to a staggering $11,270. Holy Toledo, and that's just the tax you pay for recording your Deed. Compared to the $3,080 you'd pay in San Jose for that same sales price I'd say that San Jose seems like quite a bargain. At least it would to an old penny-pincher like me.

Anyways, it's an interesting chart of a little known tax. It also breaks down the tax on the basis of who pays what, so that in Alameda County for instance, the seller actually pays the county transfer tax and half the city transfer tax and the buyer pays the rest. That means in our hypothetical $700,000 transaction, the buyer would only pay $5,250 and the other $6,020 would be deducted from the sellers proceeds. Seems reasonable, eh?

Ah, homebuying is so much fun. Maybe in the future we can talk about property taxes and earthquake insurance.

Messopotamia

What a strange war indeed. Let me ask you ask you a question. Would you rather suffer the kind of militantism and mass protest and violent confrontation that this country endured during the Vietnam War, or would you rather have people so busy watching American Idol that they can't be bothered worrying about soldiers dying in faraway places? Yeah, me too. I hope Kellie wins.

No, that's not true. Here at Dead Cat we scoff at the frivolous pursuits of the public at large and choose to focus instead on the important issues of the day. That's why we've asked two United States Senators to be our guests tonight to talk about the Iraq War. They are Senator Rose, Democrat of Massachusetts and Senator Hammer, Republican of Ohio.

"Senators, welcome."

"Thank you Dead Cat."

"Thank you Dead Cat. Pleasure to be here."

"Senator Rose, let's begin with you. We're now in the fourth year of the Iraq War with some 2400 U.S. soldiers killed and perhaps 8 or 9 times that number wounded. Where should America go from here?"

"Let me first say that there were no WMD's. The American people were lied to. Saddam was not a terrorist and posed no threat."

"Yes, but I was asking more about the present, Senator. Like it or not and regardless of the causes, we're over there now and people are dying. What should America's strategy be now? When the President wakes up tomorrow morning what should be his plan?"

"Well, he shouldn't be misleading the American people about WMD's, that's for sure. We have proof that..."

"Dead Cat, may I interrupt for a moment please."

"Yes Senator Hammer."

"It's a misstatement to say the President lied to the American people. He was working with the same faulty intelligence that everyone else, including the Congress, was."

"Yes Senator, but my point is not to keep rehashing the past but to look at the present. Senator Rose, what is the Democratic plan for victory in Iraq."

"Victory?"

"Well, perhaps I'm putting words in your mouth. What is the Democrat's plan for ending the war?"

"I think we should be working with the other countries in the region and strengthening our relationships with our allies and start being honest with the American people."

"That seems kind of vague Senator. Do you have anything more specific to offer?"

"You mean, like a strategy?"

"Yes, a strategy if you like, but even a single practical idea would suffice."

"Well, if we can't win the war then it seems the best thing to do would be to get the hell out of there and go home to our mothers."

"Go home to our mothers? Then you're advocating a gradual pullout?"

"Hell no. I say we should drop our weapons and run like hell."

"You know we have a lot of liberals up here in the Bay Area and I've always thought that's what they secretly believed, but I'm suprised to hear a U.S. Senator actually say so for the record."

"It's always been the liberal position that America owes the world an apology, and I think going home and telling the world we're sorry would be the humane thing to do."

"Senator Hammer, you've heard what Senator Rose just said. 'Drop our weapons and run like hell'? Would that be your strategy?"

"No, I think we've got a good strategy in place. We're seeing the Iraqi people go out and choose their leaders in free and open elections. We're seeing progress being made in the capabilities of the Iraqi security forces. I think if we just stay the course here then we'll achieve our goal of a stable and democratic Iraq."

"How long will we be staying this course?"

"Well, I can't make predictions but..."

"One year?"

"No, not that soon."

"Five years?"

"I think five years is a possiblity."

"You think the insurgency will be broken within the next five years?"

"It's hard to put a timetable on these things."

"And meanwhile, what about our troops? Will we continue to see them taking casualties in roadside bombings and such?"

"Of course no one can guarantee that more casualties won't occur but..."

"How many casualties? Will we continue to see the kinds of numbers we've seen so far? Will there be more? Less? Everyday we see news of more bombings and more killings over there. Can you reassure the American public that at some point we are going to see these bombings and killings stopped?"

"Well, sure, there are bombings and killings, but you know there are also a lot of positive things going on over there that the media never reports. Did you know that in Bagdad yesterday there were over 15 new puppies born? And that's just in Bagdad alone."

"You mean instead of reporting on the bombings and killings you think the media should be showing America puppy pictures?"

"I just think there needs to be more balance in the coverage, that's all. Present both sides of the picture. Sure show the blood and fear and suffering, but show the puppies too. Just think what that does to the moral of our troops to see that kind of news being reported back to the people at home."

"Are you saying the troops aren't aware of the bombings?"

"No, I'm sure they are. But that doesn't mean they want their families talking about it. It's very damaging to the morale of the troops."

"Perhaps the Pentagon should give them all puppies."

"Seriously, Dead Cat. This whole idea of Generals criticizing the war. It's unamerican and it's got to stop."

"But Senator Rose, Generals have spoken out before. Didn't General McClellan speak out against President Lincoln during the Civil War? In fact, if I recall my history, he even ran against Lincoln in the national election."

"And history hasn't been kind to McClellan, has it?"

"But did it hurt the morale of the troops? As I recall, the Union won that war."

"It's unamerican, that's all I'm saying."

"So then let me get this straight. Senator Rose, your Iraq strategy is to run like hell, and Senator Hammer your strategy is to stifle dissent and focus more on puppies. Four years into the war that is where the political leadership in Washington stands? Senator Rose?"

"Yes, just about. You see Dead Cat, this isn't your ordinary kind of war. By that I mean unlike wars in the past, this is a war that a lot of Americans are largely indifferent to. It's like a forgotten war, and we haven't even finished fighting it yet. And that's a good thing for those of us in Washington because it lets us off the hook. You see, it allows us to focus more of our attention on the things the public really cares about."

"And that would be?"

"Why, the next election of course."

"And is that why we sent you to Washington? So that you could spend six months analyzing the last election and 18 months planning the next?"

"Yes, I think so. Senator Rose don't you agree?"

"Yes, pretty much. There's also the fundraising, of course."

"Well Senator Rose and Senator Hammer, thank you both for being with me tonight. "

"Thank you, Dead Cat."

Creative Traveldock 900 Speakers


And now for today's tech news. The blogosphere is full of techie stuff and I try to avoid the subject as much as possible, but I haven't seen much on the Traveldock 900 speakers from Creative so I thought I'd do a mini-review.

Let's see, I got mine about 2 weeks ago and they work great. So go ahead and buy 'em.

Oh, wait, I should probably give you a little more information than that (har, har, har). The Traveldock 900's are portable, battery-powered speakers that connect to your Zen Muvo or other MP3 player. I could give you the specs that I found on the web but the last time I did that I ended up publishing some incorrect information. Let me get out my ruler instead and give some approximate dimensions instead. It's around 5.75" long by about 2.5" wide and about 1.5" deep, and weighs about 10 ounces or so. About the size of a large power brick, I'd say, but weighing less.

Whatever the actual dimensions it fits easily into a coat pocket or briefcase and runs on 4 AAA batteries. Creative is claiming 32 hours of battery life but I haven't changed batteries yet so I can't confirm that. Based on my experience I'd say you can count on at least 20 hours of battery life, and probably a lot more. There is also a DC power jack on the back of the unit but no power adaptor is included.

The unit contains a front connector for certain Creative Zen players that have headphone connectors on the bottom of the unit. For other players like my Zen Vision M, Creative also includes a patch cable that will allow you to connect any MP3 player to the speakers using a line-in jack on the back. Either way, you cannot control the player using the Traveldock 900 and there is no remote included. These are simply speakers. They also include a special cable for the IPod Shuffle, a player I don't know anything about, but I'm sure there must be a special reason why the Shuffle needs its own special cable.

So how does it sound? Well, the thing to remember is that these are battery-powered portable speakers that will fit in your pocket. If your expecting room shaking sound to come out of these then you're going to be sorely disappointed. That said, they actually do deliver a very clean, audible sound, noticeably lacking in the low end that a subwoofer would normally provide. Is it enough sound to overcome the rush of the faucet when your running your bathwater? I don't know. I haven't tried it. But it's more than enough sound to fill a quiet room or back patio, and I haven't noticed any distortion when cranked all the way up, although I wouldn't call it a pleasant sound. At a reasonable and listenable volume level, however, these speakers sound good. Much better than I would have expected from such a small unit. There is also a Wide Stereo button on the back if that's to your taste.

And that's about it. I'm not sure what the real need is for portable speakers such as these, but I see all different brands and models of them for sale in the electronics stores. Obviously, somebody wants them. I bought them mainly for watching video on my Vision M, and although they weren't specifically designed for that purpose they work really well (I snapped this little photo to show you my setup. Notice the clean, uncluttered workspace). The little connector in front works perfectly as a little stand to hold the Vision M in place, and the patch cord slips right into the top of the player. As long as I can find a flat place to put it down then I'm all set to go. And, best of all, I don't have to sit there and hold the player while I'm watching the video. Very nice!

I've also used the speakers to listen to music and, in a pinch, they are a good thing to have. But it bears repeating that these are not going to give you the same quality as your home theater or music system. For listening around the house you'd be much better off getting a ten dollar mini-jack to RCA patch cord and hooking your MP3 player directly to the stereo. That's what I do and I won't pretend that these little $80 speakers are going to give you the same experience.

And that's my review. And for more info here's the link.

Things a Good Son Never Tells His Mother


1. Frank and Joey are best friends

"Hey Frank, are you still grounded."

"Joey, come here. I wanna show you something."

"What?"

"Just come here and I'll show you."

"Is your mother home?"

"Yeah, but it's ok. Just knock on the door."

(Knock, knock, knock. Frank's mother opens the door)

"Why hello Joey. I'm sorry but Frank can't come out to play today. He's been grounded."

"Ah, mom. I just want to show him something. Can't he come in. We won't leave the yard."

"No, you heard what I said."

"Puleeeeeeezzzzzeeee...."

"Ok, but you two stay in the backyard, you hear me. I don't want you wandering off."

"C'mon Joey, let's go out back."

"What did you want to show me?"

"Look here, in this bucket."

"What is it?"

"A lizard."

"A lizard?"

"Yeah, I caught him and put him in this bucket."

"Man, I've caught lots of lizards. So what?"

"I don't know. Let's do something with him."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. How about we tie him to a kite and fly him up in the air."

"What for?"

"I never seen a lizard fly before. Have you? C'mon, it'll be cool."

"Ok, I guess so. Go get the kite"

(Frank gets the kite and some string)

"Alright, now what?"

"We take some string and tie him on to the tail. Yeah, like that. Alright, now let's see if we can get it up in the air."

(Joey takes the ball of string and ties it to the kite. Frank takes the kite to other end of the yard and waits for a gust of wind. Soon, the kite is in the air)

"Ok, now what? He's just hanging there. He ain't doing nothing."

"Let's get it higher. Let out some more line.

(Joey lets out more line)

"Man, he's way up there now."

"He's just hanging there. This is stupid."

"What a dumb lizard. He's not moving around or nothing. He's just...oops!"

"What happened? Where'd the lizard go?"

"He fell off. Didn't you see him? I think he fell in that sticker bush over there. Go see if you can find him."

"You go see if you can find him."

"I can't leave the yard. Hurry, go find him before he gets away."

(Joey jumps the fence and approaches the sticker bush)

"I don't see him."

"Keep looking. He fell right in there."

"I don't see...wait. Is that him?"

"Did you find him?"

"Yeah, but I think he's dead. He's just lying on his back and not moving or nothing."

"Aw, crap."

"Yeah, he's dead."

"Ok, c'mon back

(Joey jumps back over the fence and stands next to Frank as they both look at the kite flying lizardless in the air)

"What do you wanna do now?"


2. Frank and Joey in High School

"Act straight. You're blowin' it man."

"What?"

"Act straight, Frank. g0ddam it. Mr. Sweeney's coming. You wanna get busted?"

"Mr. Sweeney ain't gonna bust us."

(Mr. Sweeney approaches the boys)

"Hi Frank, how's it goin?"

"Great Mr. Sweeney. I finished all the problems last night."

"Good. Uh, Frank, can I talk to you for a second."

"Sure."

"I mean in private. Your friend won't mind, will he? I just want to talk to Frank for moment."

"Sure. Go ahead."

(Mr. Sweeney and Frank step down the hall and have a private conversation. When they're finished Frank walks back with a big grin on his face)

"What's so funny?"

(Frank is stoned and starts to giggle)

"What are you laughing about? What did Sweeney say?"

"He wants me to join his Bible Study Group."

"What?"

"Yeah, Sweeney goes to my church and he wants me to join his afterschool Bible Study Group. He says you're a bad influence on me."

(Now Joey starts to laugh. Frank joins him and they both start coughing and turning red from laughing so hard)

"You're gonna go to Bible Study Class with Sweeney?"

"Yeah. Why not. You're a bad influence, you little shit."

"I'm a bad influence. How about all those dopers at your church that you're always partying with."

"Fucking Sweeney. Can you believe that guy? It's like he wants to save me or something. C'mon, let's cut school for the rest of the day and go finish this lid."

"Naw, I can't."

"Why not?"

"I got a book report due 5th period. If I don't turn it in today then Garcia is going to knock off 50%."

"So what?"

"Man, I put a lot of work into that thing. I don't want to get 50% off."

"Alright, how about after school then. We'll finish the whole lid."

"Right on. We can't go to my house, though. My mom's home."

"Okay, we can go to my house but my grandmother's gonna be there. She won't bother us but we have to be quiet. You can't be blowing it, alright?"

"Yeah, alright. I won't blow it."

"I mean it."

"Ok. I swear I won't blow it. You got any munchies at your house?"



3. Frank and Joey after High School

"Hey Frank, where were you? Man, this party is dead. Everyone's all passed out."

"Hey Joey, come here. I want to show you something."

"What?"

"C'mon, upstairs."

"What do want to show me?"

"In here."

(Frank opens the door to one of the bedrooms)

"Who is that?"

"I don't know. Some chick. She's all passed out, man."

"So? Hey, wait a minute. I know that chick. She was in my chemistry class. Her name is Linda or Laurie or somthing like that."

"Who fucking cares, Joey. C'mon, let's do her."

"What?"

"Man, that chick is lights out. She ain't gonna know nothing."

"Are you fucking crazy?"

"No, I ain't fucking crazy. What's the matter with you? You turn queer or something?"

"C'mon Frank. Let's close the door and split, ok."

"Fucking eh, are you some kind of wuss or something? Are you gonna chicken out on me? Shit, I always knew you didn't have any balls, chicken-shit motherfucker."

"And what are you Frank? A rapist? Is that what you are?"

"Oh, excuse me Mr. High and Mighty, but it ain't rape. It ain't our fault if she can't hold her liquor. Shit, what's a chick like that expect?"

"Fuck you Frank."

"No, fuck you Joey, you little faggot. You don't want to do her than fine. Just walk on out of here and go find yourself some little queer boy to go fuck."

"Yeah, that's right. You know some time you might wanna try and get laid by someone who's actually conscious. Oh shit, that's right, I forgot. No chick would want to fuck you if she's conscious. Not when she gets a look at your ugly face."

"Man, that was funny. That was soooooo funny. How about I kick your ass or something? How funny would that be?"

"Shit, I don't know. That'd be pretty funny 'cause I'm just so scared of you. But I guess if you want to try then go on ahead."

"Fuck off, Joey."

"You always were all piss and no balls."

"Why don't you just get the fuck out of here, huh?"

"You coming with me."

"No. You gonna make me?"

"You're a fucking asshole, Frank. Find your own ride home. I'm taking off."

"Yeah, see you later shithead."

"You coming with me?"

"No."

"You're such an asshole."



4. Frank is married now and has a son

(Ding, dong)

"Who is it?"

"It's Joey. You there Frank?"

"Yeah, just a minute...hold on"

(Door opens. Frank stands there looking red and flustered)

"Hey Frank, what's happening. Sorry for dropping by without calling."

"Yeah, what you want Joey?"

"Nothing. I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by. Sorry, I should have called."

"Come on in."

"Who is it?" comes a voice from another room.

"It's Joey."

"What does he want?"

"Nothing. He just stopped by. Come on down."

(Sandy comes down the stairs. Her complexion is white and her hair is a mess but she doesn't fuss with it. Joey notices a welt under her left eye)

"Hey Sandy. Sorry for dropping by like this. Something happen to your face?"

"Oh, I tripped in the bathroom. It's ok. It's just a little swollen."

"Oh. It's no big deal. I just sort of noticed it, that's all."

(Frank asks Joey to come in)

"No, that's ok Frank. Look, I've come at a bad time."

"No, no, we were just watching TV that's all. Come on in."

(Frank turns around, looks at Sandy, and suddenly becomes very angry)

"Sandy, shit. What the fuck's the matter with you. Go fix up your hair or something. You look like a fucking mess."

(Sandy goes back up the stairs. Joey hears a baby start to cry)

"Sandy, goddam it. Will you do something with that baby. God Damn It. DO SOMETHING WITH THE BABY! Son of a fucking bitch!"

"Alright, alright" comes a voice from upstairs.

(Frank turns around to face Joey)

"Come on in, Joey."

"Look, this was a bad idea. You know, I was passing by and...

"No, c'mon in. It's not a bad time."

"Say Frank, I'm not trying to butt in or anything but were you and Sandy having an argument?"

"Nah, just husband and wife shit. You know. It wasn't nothing."

"Yeah. Hey, tell you what. I better go. I'll call next time, ok?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Ok. Well good seeing you."

"Good seeing you too Frank. Take care."

"Yeah, sure thing Joey. We'll go shoot some pool or something."

"Yeah, I'll give you a call. See ya' Frank."


5. Years go by and Joey comes home for Thanksgiving

"Hi, mom."

"Joey, you made it. Oh, it's so good to see you."

"Where's dad?"

"He's in the other room watching the football game. Eddie and Barbara and Louise aren't here yet, and Jeff and Karen and the rest of the kids will be here a little later on. Did you have a good drive over?"

"Yeah, it was fine. No problems. Boy, the house sure looks good."

"Oh, it'll be so good to have all my children and grandchildren back here again. All the Smiths in one house again."

"You look good mom. How ya' feeling?"

"The doctor's got me on Calcium, you know. And of course my blood pressure's still high."

"Can't they do something about that?"

"Well, he gave me some pills and told me to cut down on my coffee. I'll be alright I guess."

"You know I was reading in the paper that drinking coffee isn't really..."

"Oh, guess who I saw yesterday. You remember Mrs. Wilson? You know, Frank's mother?"

"Yeah, sure I remember Mrs. Wilson."

"Well, she was at the store yesterday and I about fell over when I saw her. I almost didn't recognize her at first."

"Oh yeah, how's she look?"

"Oh she's much heavier now. And of course, a lot older too. But then aren't we all. And you know, she was telling me about Frank. You know he's working with lasers now, or something. She tried to explain it but I didn't know what she was talking about, but she said he's doing very well. He's got a nice house up in Fremont and travels to Europe and Asia for his business and doing really well. He's divorced too. Imagine that. Little Frankie, and I didn't even know he was married."

"Sure you did. Don't you remember I went to the wedding."

"Did you? I don't remember. Do you two still stay in touch?"

"No. Not for a long time."

"Why not. You two were such good friends, even when you were little babies. Frank was always so nice. And courteous. I remember he'd always say 'please, Mrs. Smith and no thank you, Mrs. Smith.' Such a nice young man."

(Yeah mom. Real nice. When he wasn't busy torturing animals that is, or using drugs, or raping unconscious women, or beating his wife? Other than that he was a real nice fella)

"Yeah, that was Frank. A real sweetheart."

"Oh, stop that. He was a very nice boy, and now he's doing so well. Why didn't you ever try lasers the way Frank did? Weren't you interested?"

"What? Are you saying I should have been more like Frank?"

"No, of course not. I'm very proud of you too. I'm proud of all my children. It's just that it seems like if Frank could do it, then you could have too."

"Oh bull, mom."

"What?"

"You want to know what Frank was like? You want me to tell you what he was really like?"

"What do you mean, dear...Oh, here's your father. Henry, look who's here."

"Well Joey. You made it."

"Hi dad. Good to see you. Who's winning the game?"

"Dallas. They're killing 'em. How was the traffic."

"No problem. No problem at all."