The Simple Reason Why Republicans are Bad for Today’s Economy

 

Republican tactics lead to deminished wages fo...

The simple reason why Republicans are bad for today’s economy is they are wrong.

If you are a thinking, rational, common sense kind of a person — if you’re not a Republican — push it all aside.  Have some fun.  Go look in the mirror and be perplexed by the nose on your face.  Don’t like it?  It might not be yours.  Who knows?  Who cares?  Ignorance is power and you won’t be tested on this stuff anyway.

The reasons why Republicans are wrong about the economy are obvious.  Empirical evidence, hard data, and simple everyday experience should make all of this plain, but let’s not talk about that.  How about a simple — a very simple — review of the economics behind their wrong-headedness?

I am going to introduce two economists with what appear to be opposing views.  I’d argue, however, that in the long-run — yes, the long-run — they are essentially compatible theories of macroeconomics.

In one corner we have Jean-Baptiste Say, a French economist credited with the argument that supply creates its own demand and the principle known as Say’s Law.  In essence, although very imperfectly, this is standard upon which conservatives make their economic arguments.  In reality they are presuming a sort of demand-side principle to argue that money in the hands of “job creators” will create jobs, but that might complicate this simple summary too much.

In the other corner is John Maynard Keynes, the economist whose principles support more progressive economic action, especially on the part of government, to bolster demand and thus spur a slogging economy.  This is the Keynsian Economics that conservatives love to hate without sound reason.

Jean-Baptiste Say

In truth both arguments have their time and place in macroeconomic policy, but our leadership today — bolstered by stubbornly dissonant public opinion which supports policies least favorable to majority interests — is way off base when it comes to macroeconomic policy.  There are smart people out there who have made a career of studying what is now centuries of economic history and thought.  Unfortunately, we don’t respect intelligent  thought in this country, especially if you are a conservative; we suspect it.

Let’s start with Say and Say’s Law:  Supply creates its own demand.  Republicans continue to argue that giving breaks to “job creators” we are giving those job creators more resources to grow the economy.  You can only grow the economy if production increases.  Thus they are arguing that creating supply — whether of goods or services — will bolster economic growth.   Say’s Law would seem to affirm this.  Aggregate supply will be equated by aggregate demand.  In other words, if you build it, they will come.  Thus conservatives argue, if you give job creators — in their parlance investors, business owners, corporations, etc — they will be able to create more supply.

There is one little problem with this idea.  It is called a recession, from which, by the way, we happen to be slowly recovering from now.  Some would argue, especially on the right, that we are still in a recession.  Recessions cause problems for the supply side argument.  In fact recessions are inherently incompatible with supply side macroeconomic policy.

If you can always create more demand by increasing supply, why should we ever worry about unemployment?  Why would the economy every recede rather than grow?  Just pump more supply into the economy and it will spur demand.  Right?

You don’t need a degree in economics to see that this fails.  You only need to pay attention to what is happening in our economy and the global economy today.  The “job creators”, for example, have their wealth — record piles of it — and yet where is the increased production?  Where is the increase supply?  Where are the jobs?  Where is the growth?

John Maynard Keynes Русский: Джон Мейнард Кейн...

John Maynard Keynes 

In the short run — in a period of recession — it is obvious that supply side economics doesn’t offer a solution.  A recession isn’t a matter of winners and losers off-setting each other, the entire economy as a whole is contracting.  Production and growth decline.  Just the opposite of what Say’s Law suggests.

The counter argument is the Keynsian one.  Just the opposite here, Keynes theory suggests that demand will stimulate supply and growth.  Right now we have — or could have — the capacity to meet greater demand.  Business owners, politicians, workers, investors…everyone complains that they are sitting idle when they have assets and labor to give to the economy.  Just because a factory closes doesn’t mean it is irrelevant.  It is an unused factor of production, waiting for demand to justify its output.  Keynes recognized this during the Great Depression and much of his macroeconomic thinking is founded in this experience.

So what do we have now?  Do we have unmet demand due to a shortage of factories, workers, or capital?  Or do we have idle factories, workers, and capital?  Is it the case that the economy cannot supply goods and services or are we in a situation where demand fails to meet supply?

In the long run, aggregate supply and aggregate demand essentially equal one another.  In a recession, however, inadequate demand limits incentives to produce.  If you owned an idol widget factory, would you invest in a second factory expecting it to increase your profits?  Of course not.  The idea is absurd.  But in essence that is exactly what Republicans want you to believe.

It probably is true that in some periods, such as the 1970s, government spending outstripped the economy’s ability to meet demand and contributed to inflation.  A Keynsian approach in an economy where supply equals demand isn’t any wiser than a supply-side approach in a recession.  So it is also true that you cannot forever dump money into an economy and expect it to thrive.  That’s why Say and Keynes really offer opposing, but compatible, economic theories.

Anyway, we’re not in the 1970s now.  That much is clear.  This is a global recession with many complications gumming up the prospect of recovery.  Central banks and governments promoting austerity programs foster liquidity traps, money fails to flow, consumers and business cannot access money, and economic stasis ensues.  Meanwhile, economies like China pick up the slack.

It is true that they benefit from lower costs of production and regulation, but that wasn’t going to change regardless of our economic future.  America simply cannot compete with the cost of labor in many manufacturing and other labor-intensive industries.

A classic worth repeating…because it is so true.

But if we attempt to compete on the labor and regulatory standards of places like China, well, we’ll become more and more like China.  Our standard of living will have to fall to meet their rising standard, somewhere above the poverty of communist China and below the prosperity of capitalist America of only a few decades ago.

Is that what we want?

The United States still produces the largest economy in the world.  Combined with Europe, which is similarly situated in terms of global competition with the United States, we still possess a lot of economic power to leverage.  The dollar remains the preferred currency of exchange, for example.  We have (now limited) monetary policy to stimulate the economy.  Very simply, deficit spend.  Increase demand.

Again Republicans ignorantly oppose this approach to economic recovery.  They argue that government deficits are the cause of our economic malaise.  No…overly leveraged banking is the cause of our malaise.  No doubt government obligations exceed our ability to pay right now, but after decades of tax cuts not matched by spending cuts, American has put itself in trouble.  One could as easily argue that we have a funding problem as much as one can argue we have a spending problem.

The truth is we can deficit spend.  A growing economy will make repaying current and future debts more realistic.  An economy that remains in recession, continues to shrink, or grows with unpredictable spurts and stutters is more of a danger than incurring more debt.

We also need regulatory reform and strategy to deal with a changing world economy.  Key “non-Keynsian” issues economic our economic recovery today include a finance capitalism built on leverage debt, a shift in economic activity from old to new economies, and sovereign debt and currency concerns, especially in Europe.

In the long run, government spending to increase demand will push supply.  That will create economic growth, opportunities, and jobs.  When the economy is strong, then we can evaluate the virtues of macroeconomic theory like Say’s Law and supply-side economics.  Until then I think it is rather obvious that these conservative approaches favor the very few at the expense of overall economic well-being.

We are in a supply-side economy now.  How do you like it?

Save Your Country

 

Watching the Olympics: Pt 2, The Official 2012 Logo

I am going into this without any background information.  I don’t even want to know who designed the official 2012 Olympic logo.  The designer might be my über hero, Paul Krugman, for all I know.  Or another man who can do no wrong, the fictional Siegfried Farnon.  It doesn’t matter.  Regardless of who designed this, it is a mistake.

We all know the excellent Olympic rings.  Simple, elegant, and relevant.  They symbolize unity across the continents, each equal and identical other than color.  But the colors are careful to be irrelevant to favoring any nation or region while being vibrant an identifiable as part of a whole.  The rings endure as the most recognizable symbol of the Olympics — for which many symbols exist — because of its appropriate elegance.

Now look at the official logo…

As in love, I know what is right and what is wrong; I trust my heart.  But this logo looks the way it makes my heart feel.  Crushed, shattered, and a weak shade of pink.  There is no love here.

I had seen other logos related to the 2012 Olympic games, but discovered the official logo only yesterday when prepping my previous post.  I mentioned this yesterday while at the neighborhood bar being a hamster (cf., my excellent and particularly moving Watching the Olympics:  Pt 1) when someone said the current logo looks like a swastika.  I’m sure they’re not the only person to mention this, because it is absolutely true.

But then if you look at it again, if you unscramble the blocks, it looks like “Zion” to me.  Who knows?

The entire concept is wrong.  Instead of interlinking rings standing for unity, you have garish, violently jagged blocks jostling against each other.  The design is confrontational, with each piece pushing to fit within the roughly square area of the design.  The elegance is gone, the simple unity missing.  It is unbalanced.  In short, the design utterly misses the mark.  A pink blemish on the world of art and design, if you ask me.

I will go now and see if Paul Krugman or Siegfried Farnon designed this logo.  I doubt it.  One is an economist and the other doesn’t really exist, but either could have done a much better job than what we have here.  I will choose one of the many other tasteful, more appropriate Summer Olympic logos in use out there as my official logo.  Don’t expect to see the pink monstrosity here again.

Watching the Olympics, Part 1

There are so many good logos out there and London has this. Really.

I am not a very dedicated sports fan.  I like sports as an excuse to get out and be with friends, but overall I prefer to make small talk about the weather (politics too volatile) than batting averages or quarterback controversies.  I don’t know anything about either of those topics anyway.  I like hockey.

But I found myself unable to stop watching the Olympics last night.  A horrible date I must have been because at one point I had suggested that the athletes were as fit as race horses and she suggested that the rest of us — not she or me, of course — were built like hamsters.

Hamsters!  I love it.  And it is true.

What do hamsters do all day?  They munch on stuff, occasionally get up for a run on a wheel, then munch more.  If you look at the bar crowd they tend to be slouched over the bar nibbling and sipping just like hamsters.  Some of them are breeders, too, which is what hamsters are good at.  Gerbils, doubly good at it.  I know.  We supplied the school with gerbils for the class boa constrictor.

Ah, yes, there is some sport in bar watching, too, no doubt.  Identifying the swingers at the bar is as good of a sport as watching men’s rowing, for example.  Young guys from the suburbs on bad dates make for good viewing.  And every once in a while, there’s just plain simple bliss and happiness.

There’s some sadness in this bar watching sport, too, especially when you’re getting deep into your second bottle of Brunello di Montalcino.  There always seem to be the girls — I use that term in the broadest sense — who appear willing to give anything — and I mean anything — for some affirmation and attention.

Brittany Viola, USA Diver.  Lean achieving confidence.

There are many boys like this, too, but they either hide behind various manly facades or just look desperately drunk.    The phrase ‘wayward” rings entirely true.  These people catch my attention, and I watch from a distance, like a Wim Wenders angel, forbidden to contact until their time has come.

Anyway, no need to let the sadness of humanity get a guy down. I like watching the bar stool hamsters as much as the Olympic race horses.  I do think my friend is right, though; we are indeed more like the hamsters in the bar than the monomaniac athletes on television.  Until the rise of reality television I always thought that’s why we like sport, because those people were achieving something most of us cannot.  So why watch reality television when everyday blandness mixes with storied train wrecks right in your own back yard?

Often contrast is the best way to see and understand.  When seeking affirmation — remember the boys and girls? — in the familiar, people lack contrast and so fail to see and understand.  In this way I think this sort of populist entertainment — reality television, especially — that exists today is a factor in the “dumbing down” of American culture.  What can we learn from making celebrities of “reality”, especially our most mundane and sordid?  Maybe I am being snobby and short-sighted, but I can’t help but feel grateful for something like the Olympics,

English: free icon, showing drawing of a hamst...

something rare that goes over the top to celebrate achievement.  There is something good in that, isn’t there?

By the way, you can find me later at the bar eating a pizza with a mug of beer.  I will be celebrating achievement!

Uptown Minneapolis Primebar

 

Fill this place up…

Primebar seems to have everything it needs to succeed.  The food is great, they have a wide selection of beer and drinks (I haven’t delved much into the wine), and it is all set in a large, but inviting space.  It is missing something, however…it is missing people.

 

I have yet to be at Primebar when people give the place energy.  That’s too bad.  This is perhaps the best new place for friends to gather in the Uptown neighborhood in a long time.  If you’re tired of fighting the suburban kids on local rooftops, go to Primebar.  It might be a stretch to make this comparison, but think of it as Butcher & the Boar on Lake and Hennepin.

 

Butcher & the Boar has people and an energetic vibe, however, and the other does not.  I think that makes the difference.  Difference in food, drink, service, and so forth wash out with energy.

 

If I were Mr. Primebar, I would open the doors a bit more aggressively.  They have a lot of space and,some might argue, big shoes to fill, too.  The best spot on that corner — Figlio — didn’t mess around.  You knew what you would get and you got it in abundance.  When I talk to people in the neighborhood, Primebar is still a mystery.  As recently as yesterday I talked with someone who hadn’t heard Primebar was open.  Primebar quietly opened a couple weeks ago, right?  Not the way to open that restaurant.

 

Where are the specials, the parties?  Invite us in with a smashing happy hour and opening events.  Remember Figlio’s “2 good 2 be true” weekends?  Now I know Primebar isn’t Figlio, but things like this connect with the local bar and restaurant set.  It will get people to come in and see what the place has to offer, and Primebar has a lot to offer.  Primebar just isn’t creating any buzz.

 

Primebar could do a better job promoting itself once you’re in the restaurant, too.  I have yet to be told about their frequent diner program, for example.  I know about it from the website.  Servers should be mentioning this to everyone every time.  The place is new.  This is the when the iron is (supposed to be) hot.

 

The bar staff does an inconsistent job promoting as well.  They should know more about the menu than “everything is excellent.”  Overall everything indeed is excellent.  A little push, however, might get more food out the kitchen.  That would be good for Primebar.

 

And my pet peeve.  Oh, boy.  It is a little thing, but it is one of those that drives me nuts.  I ordered a beer.  $5.50.  (I presume happy hour is still in the planning stages.)  I gave my bartender $6.00 and never saw him again.  What happened to my fifty cents?  I was going to tip a dollar — yes, I am a high-rolling big spender — but he decided fifty cents was enough.  I don’t like the presumption.  And why not ask me if I want to see a menu or tell me about a special or come back and see if I might want another beer?

 

So I suggest a mix of strategies.  Tweak the little customer service things and get some events going to get people into Primebar.  I am convinced people will like it.  The place offers a refreshing break from the Parasole empire and doesn’t smell like the fried fish over at Stella’s.  It also escapes the mayhem downtown and isn’t as parochial as Edina.  I can’t compare it with any West End establishments because…well…thats’ the suburbs, right?  I don’t go there.

 

Primebar…here we come!  (You’re open, right?)

 

Mast-Head Watch: Not a Whale in Sight

I nearly posted a link to a Garmin map that tracks the walk I took tonight.  It took quite a bit of time to figure out a way to post it, then I thought…do I really want to post a map showing where I walk?  Hell, why not!

Actually, I have decided against it.  A moment ago I deleted the post.  And now I feel grumpy.  Tired.  Disappointed.  All too familiar.

This was a typical walk-along-the-lake-and-into-the-woods kind of post.  I have a few dozen posted here already, I am sure.  And my photos were not quite as good as others.  I am afraid my camera phone is growing tired.  Focus is not one of its strong suits any longer and light exposure is all fuddled up.

It was a nice walk, though.  I did see a doe and two fawns and I wrote about that.  Sounds dull, I’m sure, but I did a good job.  (You see I discovered this gap in the fence where the deer crouch down and scoot under the chain link…I watched two go through while the third seemed a bit confused and lost…he eventually found his way to the other side.  Happy reunion.  Drama worthy of a book about a white whale, of which I have read very little today.)

I took pictures of mushrooms and roses.  I commented on the compost at the rose garden.  (It smells like a mix of tobacco and plums, not an unpleasant scent at all.)  I took pictures of artists painting in the park.

And I complained about the heat.   I complained about the heat a lot and wondered if whiskey might make it better.  Oh, my writing about this was especially good!  I can’t recall what I wrote, but I can tell you what inspires me.

When I think of awful heat and smothering humidity, I think of old southern men, Depression era, of course; old southern men sweating in seersucker suits, poorly tied ties, and Panama hats.   And I think of whiskey.

Perhaps it is unfair to whiskey — or maybe the old men — but sticky heat is old man whiskey weather in my mind and I think it might be time to see how they mix, if they do.  Of course Minneapolis is a city where it is tough to have a good time.  You can’t stroll the parks with a flask of whiskey, for example, but you can always carry some in your stomach.  So I have decided that one of these hot steamy nights I’ll have a shot or two and go for a walk.

I might take a chance and put a small flask in my pocket, too.  What harm can a guy do taking a nip in the bird sanctuary?  Maybe the shadows will speak to me differently if I do.

That will have to be another day.  It is quite late now.  I do feel a bit better having taken a few minutes to write something.  It is a recovery of sorts, a recovery from a lost post.  It was the map that had troubled me in that post.  Nothing more.  I had my story all laid out along the Garmin track.  I shouldn’t have been so quick to trash it.  I didn’t feel right putting my map on the table, however.

Plus there is something about the map that is especially interesting to me in a strange, taunting sort of way.  I uploaded the map of tonight’s walk and at the end my route, the track jumps down the block and ends in a place which is not mine.  When I saw where it landed, I smiled and felt a little sad at the same time. True to Freud, this strange glitch truly touches the uncanny.  (You’ll have to trust me.)

It has been a very still, quiet week.  Maybe the heat has something to do with it.  Nothing seems to stir, but everything is hot to the touch.

More Thoughts While Reading Moby Dick…

English: Illustration of the final chase of Mo...

Is Ahab a tragic character or an ironic one?  Best to be neither, I think.

Oh, how the stubbornness of bad ideas wear me down. Living with too much faith in reason only means you are more likely to be burdened by what fails it.  Nothing quite as noble as chaos, I don’t mean that; but dirty, tortured fragments of broken experience that cannot be made to fit together.  Some parts never become a part of a whole because they didn’t come from a whole to begin with.

But, to quote Cicero – or is it Terence? – Where there is life, there is hope, and I believe both life and hope exist in eternity, from whence it begins unknown, to where it will forever plunge forward beyond nothingness.  There is no beginning, middle, and end, so why plan as such?

Perhaps the best way to get from A to B is to abandon both altogether.  What would happen if you just started each day with only a little nudge, a gentle shove toward some direction…you would end up somewhere, right?

Maybe the best way to be heard is to say nothing at all.  That strikes me as a Way of the Path.  And suppose the Zen masters do have it right.  I can imagine it.  Let the world whorl around you and see what gathers in its wake.  Is that what it is?

In short, the best way to deal with absurdity is to shrug.  Trust that the broken pieces settle into a pattern, if not a whole, and speak fairly.  Think and live freely and answers will open themselves.  Am  I right or am I wrong?

As I ponder this, I am going back to Moby Dick.  A story of well-reasoned madness and the nasty outcomes of chasing one’s dangerous obsessions.  But it also is a story of wholeness, one in which the pieces do come together and complete a story, speaking plainly and fairly.  What a great story it is!

Minneapolis Neiman Marcus

Neiman Marcus

Neiman Marcus announced it will close its Minneapolis store next year.  Even if you don’t shop at Neiman Marcus, there is reason to be disappointed.

In a way Neiman Marcus is a link with the not-so-distant past when service and quality matter, an era when people spent more thoughtfully, perhaps, and a time when shopping was more a careful transaction than merely a form of recreation.

A common slang for Neiman Marcus is “Needless Markups,” but I don’t know if that is entirely fair.  If you want the Ermenegildo suit, well, you’ll pay a lot more for it than you will for a suit at discount chain.  You will get a different suit, too.  As long as that high-end market survives, it seems that the the price is not “needless.”

Getting more for less — and even less for less — matters above all else today.  Certainly one can debate how a $400 shirt is truly more valuable than a shirt costing $100 and one can see in Neiman Marcus a confirmation of an existing and growing divide between haves and have-nots, but the sort of value I lament losing isn’t measured by price alone.

Losing the luxury retailer and its market isn’t quite as important as something more fundamental about the way we measure quality and value.  It isn’t a matter of product alone.

Once upon a time department stores were about service, with the occasional Ohrbach’s out there.  Neiman Marcus is one of the few places remaining were you can find the sort of dignified service once taken for granted at most department stores.

I am far from the target demographic Neiman Marcus values most, but I shop there and I even buy something once in a while.   I invest in solid buys and do so when items go on sale.  But even though I am not spending tens of thousands of dollars, I am treated with respectful and thoroughly attentive service.  People remember my name.

You can measure the decline of civilized shopping by following the devolution of stores like Dayton’s in Minneapolis.  Dayton’s — now Macy’s — once offered service you find rarely today.  In fact now that Dayton’s is Macy’s, well…it is a mess.  Not long ago while looking for a gift I asked a saleswoman for directions.  She rolled her eyes and let me know that she worked for a boutique line of clothing, not Macy’s.  She advised that I find an employee.  Good luck finding an employee in a stripped down retail environment.  That’s Macy’s.

That would never happen at the old Dayton’s and it certainly does not happen at Neiman Marcus today.

Overall we live more and more in a society of needless consumption.  Rather than spend $400 on a special shirt that they will care for and keep, people are more likely to spend $400 every weekend on a cheap clothes they might not wear more than once or twice.  Being able to walk out of the mall laden with shopping bags seems to show more “value” than occasionally investing in a needed quality product.  In this case, more is more and getting more for less is key.

I don’t like that.

That sort of quick and random consumption doesn’t require much service.  If a shirt that costs $14 isn’t quite right, you haven’t lost much in the transaction.  Sadly, I think our expectations in service have fallen to our expectations of quality.  The coarsening of our social interactions don’t demand much in the way of refinement.  If employing one less salesman means you can save a buck or two, that’s good.

Large, empty retail is pushing aside the more personal and attentive ways of shopping that once was taken for granted.  For my part, that is not good.  I will miss the civility of Neiman Marcus, but I worry more about losing yet another reminder of what were once more sophisticated days for everyone, whether you shopped at Neiman Marcus or J. C. Pennys.

 

Reading Moby Dick

Title page of the first edition of Moby-Dick, ...

Title page of the first edition of Moby-Dick, 1851. 

Moby Dick is keeping me up at night, and, as I’ll explain soon, I think it kept me up once long ago with fear for what it is doing now with pleasure.  Moby Dick is great fun to read and this short post is all about my first direct experience with the book.

As I am reading this book, I recall a very distant and yet very distinct memory of Moby Dick.  It is so visceral and real that it might even be part of a childhood dream, actually a childhood nightmare.

I remember a story of a ship repeatedly being attacked by a whale.  The whale surfaces frequently and each time raises with it a dread that only a very young boy could experience.  I believe this is an old film — maybe even a cartoon — that has stuck with me, but I have searched the internet for something that might fit my memory and I cannot find it.  One characteristic of this memory is seeing the ship from the perspective of the whale.  The whale appears and we ride with him as he builds speed to ram the ship…this is the image that left its mark and taunts me now.   What was it?

I don’t know how my first memories of this whale story ends.  Probably didn’t end well.  Pirates, whales, and crocodiles freaked me out when I was a boy.  Too much Disney, I think.  Whatever it was, it left me looking for more comfort than I could get from my flannel pajamas.  And now, many years later, I am still spooked.

But back to today and Moby Dick.

Earlier this summer I wrote about The Bedford Incident, for example, and it occurs to me now that The Bedford Incident in many ways is a Cold War era retelling of the Moby Dick story.  I’ll have to go back and look at what I said about The Bedford Incident again.

I was surprised when a friend saw my copy of Moby Dick and asked me to read to her.  I am only aware of one book this person has read — V. C. Andrews, Flowers in the Attic — so I wasn’t sure what to expect.  But she insisted that I read on, even stopping me and asking me to re-read passages she found especially interesting.  So I read and read, annotating when I thought I should, and found the experience an unexpected treat.  Until now I don’t think I would have thought Moby Dick the best place to start if one were looking to pique the literary interests of a young woman from Iowa.  Who knew?

And for myself, I love the overlapping themes and the almost progressively modern tone of the novel.  I like this historical vignettes, too.  A guy can learn something about sea life, but one should be cautious about putting too much stock in the story’s cetological authority.  At times Moby Dick is poetic and lyrical, other times directly modernist, a true predecessor of later great American novels.  This is fun to experience.  And I have that almost uncanny experience of being frightened again by a memory I cannot pin down, too.

So of course I am up at night.  I am reading…I am reading Moby Dick!  And I am pausing now only to praise Moby Dick and maybe brag some.  (I feel a bit smug about reading it.)  I thought I would share a little now and share more later.

Summer Vacation Wrap Up

 

Vacations take a while to come around on the calendar, but they certainly waste no time coming to an end.  Monday now and back at my old routines, work and stuff.  In ways I feel like a kid again, carrying that melancholy gee-whiz it is over kind of feeling.  The vacation is a good time, but the remainder of the summer offers a lot, too.

Still, I sense a real change in mood.  I was happy being away, cleaning camp, fixing things, and mixing with friends and family.  I cannot help but wonder if I am in the wrong line of work.

Plus, while I didn’t accomplish much, I felt much more creative away from familiar routines.  Generally I think people are most creative when their moods are on the rise.  I don’t put much into the idea of the tortured artists, unless that artist frequently comes back from the doldrums easily.

I always do my best when I feel things improving.  The transition from being a bit blue to being less blue is the best of all.  I can’t imagine being happy all the time.  I wouldn’t get anything done.  Constantly happy people are odd.  They have silly, smug half-smiles I don’t entirely trust.  In my opinion they look like they’re medicated and can you really accomplish your best on meds?  They simply volunteer a lot and say sweet things about small children they don’t know.  I suppose there is no harm in that.

I would rather have the ups and downs.  I want to accomplish things.

Right now, alas, all feels somewhat empty.  Kind of sad to be back to whatever it is that I do.  I spent some time on the phone dialing clients and all of it felt flat.  When someone answered the phone I was disappointed.  ”Oh, hi…”

Tomorrow I’ll dress up like a working adult and go to meetings and do my thing.  Maybe that will make me feel better.  Right now…I just wish I were at the lake.

Sunrise Storm on Lake Osakis.

 

A Week at the Lake

A long list of list of both small and large goals remains mostly incomplete.  I didn’t finish Moby Dick…I didn’t catch many fish, either, forget about the whale.  I have taken only one walk and didn’t do any cow spotting.  Last month’s magazines and newspapers remain unread, too.  And I didn’t do anything to advance my oft-promised writing career.

I did manage to stay mostly unconnected from news and politics even in an almost impossibly interconnected world.  However, getting to the lake no longer means getting away, alas.

I also stayed away from work most of the week.  That is a mixed blessing, however; when not working we’re not making money.  Margins are tight and there isn’t a lot of fat to sustain a week-long break from the office and clients.  Here at the lake is when I think my father, a plumber in the 1970s, had things a bit better than I do when it comes to peace of mind.

Speaking of peace of mind, I think I am missing a few, as in “piece” of mind.  Now of course six straight nights cocktailing on the SS Fracas might have had something to do with this, but I pulled out my notebook last night and I thought I would sort out some ideas.  Not a chance.  I could not write.  Other than a grid pattern on the page — I like grids, by the way, but only on paper — the blank page conquered me.  As soon as I moved my pen toward the paper, whatever I had thought to write flowed not to the pen, but far, far away, maybe to a place where devils and pixies dwell.  (I think it a good idea to lay off the Brunello and gin today.)

Summer Vacation: The end is nigh.

But what do you do at the lake?  I still have these idyllic pictures of a cabin in the woods, a few good books, and soft music playing beneath the sound of crickets and distance loons calling from outdoors.  I also remember playing on the beach with cousins on a windy night, maybe around a bonfire, as lightning flashes from an approaching but far-off storm.  Sunburn, insect spray, and foreign brands of pop.  Those are good things.  But my memories come from an incandescent world, not the milky overlit one I cannot seem to escape now.

Last day today and perhaps I can get caught up on my holiday to-do list.  It looks like a murky day anyway, the kind of day that has a place at the lake, and the perfect sort of day for getting caught up.  Even at the end of the trip, one can always find time.

Where’s the gin?

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