A Short Message to Representatives up for Reelection

I sent this message to a representative who shall remain nameless to give them a chance to react. This person doesn't represent me directly so I can't vote for them or for their opponent. I like the person's published position on most issues. I should also mention that O'Rourke is not my direct representative either. 

I split $10 between you and [another candidate I like] many months ago. I still get an occasional email from [the other candidate]. If I don't get three a day from your campaign, I know it must be the weekend. Coming up with so many critical fundraising deadlines must be stressful.

In my opinion, your lead is shrinking because your campaign is focussed on fundraising rather than telling voters what you stand for. Rather than go into great detail, I'm going to suggest that you look at your fundraising and spending record this election cycle and compare it to Beto O'Rourke's fundraising and spending. Do this on the opensecrets.org website.

Look at the PACs tab and the Expenditures tab. There is a wealth of information there that can work to your advantage. Ignore it at your peril. 

Next, take a look at Beto's strategy which is completely transparent. Watch the video of him at a town hall in rural Texas, where he honestly and directly answers a tough question about NFL players taking a knee. Schedule as many meet-the-voters gatherings as you can. Then clearly tell the voters what you stand for, and let the fundraising take care of itself. 

Let the party leaders know that you're going to be busy trying to win an election so you might not be able to make some of the payments they expect from you. Let the PACs know that you appreciate what they've contributed, but your votes in the future will be for what America wants, not what they want.

I hope this helps. We really need you to hold onto that seat. I live on Social Security, and I appreciate your position on protecting my sole source of income. I didn't learn about your position from the emails you've sent. I did my own research. If I come up with another $5 to spare, I'll be sending it to the O'Rourke campaign. I hope you understand.

-- Steve Wood

How I Cut the Cable

And Learned to Love the Sound of Silence

Two black cables dangle from the utility post across the street, swaying in a tropical breeze. They’ve been snipped off four or five feet above the ground by someone eager to salvage the copper… or whatever cable TV cables are made of. Those cables had been stretched across the unpaved street to the duplex where we (Blanca and I) live. One cable served our side of a duplex and the other helped keep our neighbor, we’ll call him Jim, occupied with 95 channels, including five in English.

The Izzi Effect

I don’t remember when we first signed up for Telecable. Well over a decade ago for sure; back when we lived on a paved street. As we all know, change happens. It started with talk of Izzi on the internet… backed by advertising with bright, primary colors and young, happy looking models.

The rumor mill suggested that Izzi was taking over Telecable. The rumors weren’t clear as to when or how this would happen. The name Izzi became more familiar as tiny Honda Fit cars, with long ladders strapped to the roof, became a common site around town.

In March the first bill arrived from Izzi; stuck in my front door. That’s the way most bills are delivered here. It was a simple letter size page showing that I owed $0.00 pesos for the month. My first impression was that the bill didn’t look very professional. I had accumulated six prepaid months for 2016 as a result of a Telecable “Pay for 12 months in January and get credit for 14 months” promotion. The fact that the promotion was dropped in January 2016 should have been a clue that change was in the wind.

Jim and the Poker Connection

My neighbor Jim is 84 years old. He’s had a fascinating life; from machine shop owner, to California real estate mini-mogul, to sailing the Greek islands... all that before moving to Puerto Vallarta in 1995. I arrived the same year; with a list of three options to check out as retirement spots in Mexico. Puerto Vallarta was the first stop. After two weeks, I was hooked. The scouting trip ended.

Before long, I’d been invited to play in a weekly poker game. That’s where I met Jim and many other characters that have made for an interesting twenty plus years. Poker attracts characters. Each of the dozen or so players I got to know in that game, and in games that morphed from that game, has a story waiting to be told. Jim plays a principal role  in this story.

During our poker sessions, Jim would sometimes mention a small piece of land he’d bought on the other end of town; up near the airport. He said he planned to build on the lot after he’d saved enough money. At the time, I had a car, and I hadn’t yet squandered my retirement savings in an effort to show Wall Street how smart I am.

One day Jim and I went for a ride to take a look at his lot. The location was pretty good, but the area was populated with a variety of businesses, mixed with small, basic homes. Some of the streets were paved with cobblestones… but not the ones around Jim’s lot.  I didn’t see much potential as a place to build a home, so that was that.

Things Change and It’s Back to Work

Fast forward about a decade. Most of my savings had found their way into accounts held by the wolves of Wall Street. In 2003 I had gone to work for PokerStars, an online poker company that kindly allowed me to work remotely from Puerto Vallarta. I was now in a long term relationship with Blanca, who I’d met in 1996 through the wife of one of the regular poker players. We were paying rent but were still able to slowly accumulate some savings. The idea of having a little place of our own, where we could live rent free, was attractive. It was the fall of 2006. As things worked out, we were renting an apartment in the building where Jim lived.

I’d already decided that I wanted to retire... again... in 2008, when I turned 62. Thanks to a few gravy years as co-founder of a successful software company, my projected income from Social Security would be enough to live on… especially if we didn’t have to pay rent. In retrospect, my next decision was not a wise one. I asked Jim about his plan to build on that lot up by the airport. He said he had only accumulated about half of what he thought it would take.

Building for the Future

We took another ride out to see the lot. It was more overgrown than ever, as were a few other vacant lots on the street. On the other hand, more homes had sprouted up in the general area and there were no signs of serious gang activity.

I had enough saved to match what Jim had, including the value of the lot. Together we had enough to build two small (380 sq. feet of  living space) units as a duplex. Each unit would have a bedroom, a bathroom and a combined living/dining/kitchen area. Construction would be such that, in the future, two more units could be added as a second story. We reached an agreement to build on the lot as co-proprietors.

Under Mexican law, foreigners can’t own land near the borders or shoreline. That is commonly dealt with by setting up a trust in which a Mexican bank holds the title, but has a fiduciary duty to comply with any legal wish of the foreign owner. Jim had set up such a trust agreement when he bought the lot. We decided that the simplest, least expensive thing to do, was to modify the trust agreement to make me a co-proprietor with Blanca as my beneficiary.

The story of the construction project is a saga in itself. Suffice it to say that between November 2006 and April 2007 a duplex, with patios in back and minimal parking in front, replaced the jungle like growth. Construction finished in time for us to experience the rainy season... during which our dusty street becomes a muddy street.

As planned, I retired again in 2008. Just before I left, PokerStars generously sent me off in style by arranging for me to “work” at a live poker event they sponsored in Monaco. That trip would make a fun story if only my memory were better.

The Izzi Experience Goes from Bad to Worse

On a Thursday morning, a couple of weeks ago (June 2016), I turned on the TV expecting to hear the usual election related crap on CNN. Instead I was greeted by a blue screen with the message “No Signal”. Realizing that this is the sort of thing that could set Jim off, I got busy looking for the cause.

I was finally able to contact a human at Izzi via “live chat” support. After explaining the problem and providing the contract number from one of those Izzi bills, the person said that a set top box would be required to restore service. When I mentioned that there had been no warning, he ignored me and pasted a website address into the chat window so I could find out where I had to go to get a set top box. I’m liking Izzi less and less. Is cutting off service to customers the best form of notification they could come up with?

The map on the Izzi’s Puerto Vallarta website showed the office to be in a business/shopping complex that I’m familiar with. There’s a bus stop nearby.  I left a note in Jim’s door explain why the cable was out, and that I was off to the Izzi office to deal with it. That led to the next customer service snafu.

The Izzi office was not where I thought it should be. I asked around, and a gardener told me that the place to pick up set top boxes was about a half mile back toward home. As I started walking, I happened to notice an Izzi sign on a building across the highway where people were coming and going. I was a long way to the nearest traffic light. I crossed the eight lanes without incident, went into the office and was immediately told that I needed to go to a different place. The gardener had been right. The gal at the office wasn’t clear as to exactly where the set top box operation was located. She was clear in saying it was on the other side of the highway, near a supermarket about a half mile away.

Nothing at that location looked like a place to pick up an Izzi set top box. After walking all around the area, I asked a cab driver if he had any idea. He did. He pointed to a row of buildings I’d already checked. I thanked him and walked away to check again. Sure enough there was a gap toward the end of the row of businesses. Set off the street well behind the other businesses was an unsigned, nondescript block building with a lot of people standing around. In fairness, there was a Telecable banner on a wall... facing the wrong way to be seen from the street. Nothing said Izzi.

Upon approaching the building, one might expect someone to explain the procedure. One would be wrong. I put on my best confused gringo face and finally another person waiting out front told me I should go in and get a number. There were several desks, all with customers dealing with people wearing Izzi shirts. Not a clue as to where one might get a number.  Another helpful customer asked me if I needed a number. When I said yes, she pointed to one of the desks. As I approached the desk, an irritated looking Izzi person tore a number off a roll and handed it to me.  By this time, I really didn’t like Izzi at all.

Finally, my number was called and an agreeable young man helped me through the process. I learned that I needed three set top boxes. The first was included in the monthly cost, which I found was more than I’d been paying Telecable. The other two would be $65 pesos (about $3.50 USD) each per month. One of those boxes was for Jim.

Issues with Jim Take a Turn for the Worse

When I got home, there was a note in my door from Jim. He thanked me for letting him know what was going on, and said he really didn’t care about having TV anyway. Very uncharacteristic.

I went into my place and hooked up one of the boxes to see how it worked. It worked fine… but the five English language channels we had with Telecable  were gone. I let Jim know the bad news... higher cost, no English channels except Faux News. He came to my door later with wire cutters and said he was cutting the cable. I explained that it had already been cut electronically, so there was no need to physically cut the cable.

Half an hour later, I heard honking on the street. I looked out and saw a truck that couldn’t pass due to low hanging cables. Both of our TV cables had been cut where they entered the house. Jim, who doesn’t like heights, had climbed up on the roof and cut the cables. Both his and mine. I pulled the cables down so the truck could pass. I didn’t say anything to Jim; seeing this as a chance to put Izzi in the rear view mirror.

Blanca and I talked about the situation that evening. We agreed that the best thing to do was cancel the cable service. She expressed a dislike for Izzy based on bad things she'd heard, so she was happy we weren’t going to be doing business with them.

The next morning, after Blanca had left for work, I heard loud banging and shattering glass. Jim was breaking out the glass and hard plastic in both the front door and front window on his side of the building. I went out and asked him though the broken window if he wanted me to call the police again. He said “Sure, bring ‘em on”.

After some thought, I told him wouldn’t unless he broke the agreement he’d made after earlier rampages involving the water, gas and electric service. After the last one, he’d spent 12 hours in jail… before they had to release him due to his age. Those hours in the slammer seemed to get his attention. He’d agreed with investigators that he wouldn’t touch the utilities, wouldn’t talk to Blanca, and wouldn’t threaten me with various tools. That was the deal. After previous incidents, the police had, oddly enough, always left his “weapon” with me.

I waited to see what would happen, fully expecting that I’d soon be making a call to the police. The sound of more banging and things breaking could be heard… but he never came out of the house. The next morning, as I got ready to take the set top boxes back and cancel the service, Jim incessantly pounded on his steel door and on the iron bars protecting his window. He was using a metal tool of some sort. I ignored him.

When I arrived at the building where I’d picked up the boxes, I stood out because I was carrying three cloth Telecable bags like those everyone else carried as they left. I went in and approached a desk to get a number. There were customers sitting at desks, arranging to get their set top boxes, just as I had done the day before. The Izzi people in the room pointedly ignored me. The most interesting part was that one of the customers had a pig on a leash. The pig was contentedly rooting around in the guy’s backpack when someone’s chihuahua got loose, walked over, and started sniffing the pig’s butt. That in itself made the trip worthwhile.

I finally got the attention of an Izzi person and explained that we’d decided to cancel our service. Naturally, I learned that they don’t handle that at this location. I’d have to walk back to the other office on the other side of the highway. I did, and the service is cancelled. I generally try to be understanding, but now I felt genuine hate for Izzi and the crappy way it treats customers.

Now you know, in lurid detail, how I cut the cable… with the help of an unstable neighbor.

Loving the Sound of Silence

Learning to love the sound of silence has been simple. No more CNN yammering in the background while I eat, feed the animals, or do chores around the house. We have a service called ClaroVideo available with our fiber internet access. A few months ago it was added at no cost for the first year. Until the events described above, it had gone unused. We now use it to watch movies, documentaries, series, concerts and more when and where we want. I hooked up an old Chromebook to the bedroom TV so Blanca can watch what she wants there. I can watch what I want on my computer monitor in the front room. A lot of the content is dubbed in Spanish and the rest is in English with Spanish subtitles. New releases are available as pay per view at about $2.50 USD for 24 hours of access. We use it in the evenings. Silence prevails during the day. It’s been well over a week now, and we don’t miss the cable service at all. I for one, love the silence.

Just When You Thought the Story Was Over

Breaking News… and other stuff. Jim’s descent into the bowels of insanity continues. Our electric bills came a few days after the cable cutting and breaking glass episodes that triggered this post. I asked Jim if he wanted to give me the money for his bill so Blanca could pay it for him when she pays ours. That’s been the normal procedure since we (thank goodness) had a separate meter installed for our side following the utility conflicts mentioned above. He said “No!” in an angry tone, “I’m not paying it.” His power will be cut off a day or two after I post this.

Two days later, Jim lost it to the point that he came out of his place wearing only his underwear and carrying a foot long plumber’s wrench. He came to my door, told me he was fed up, and dared me to come out. I told him ”I’m really busy” and “It would be better if you could come by tomorrow. We can have a big fight then.” He failed to see the humor.

He gave my door a solid whack with his “weapon”, and I called the police. I expected him to retreat to his place, where he knows the police can’t touch him. He didn’t. Instead he whacked the door again and stood outside. Fortunately, we have a double door, so he couldn’t break the glass. I picked up my own weapon, a 1x3 piece of wood about four feet long, with a handle of sorts to make it hard to pull out of my hands. I’d also wrapped the business end with duct tape to reduce the chance of serious damage in case I accidentally hit Jim instead of his weapon. Yes, I had prepared for the possibility that it would come to this again.

The battle was short and totally unfair. At 70, I’m fifteen years younger and quite a bit stronger. A few well placed whacks, and I knocked his weapon to the ground. I tossed it into my place, closed the door, and ran back to his side so he couldn’t get back inside before the police arrived.

The municipal police truck showed up after about ten minutes. Much better than the hour plus we waited the last time he was locked up. I showed the officers documentation of our earlier conflicts; they did some cursory questioning and asked me if I wanted them to take him in. I said yes, and away he went... after they went inside to find a shirt and shorts for him to wear. They left his weapon outside; I added it to my collection as shown earlier.

While he was gone, I used my cell phone to record the damage he’d done to his place. The same police truck that took him away, dropped Jim off about three hours later. The police didn’t stop to chat. I didn’t expect them to lock him up, but I had hoped someone would realize that he needed help after seeing the damage he’d done to his own home... maybe take him somewhere for psychiatric evaluation. That was pretty silly of me in retrospect. Bureaucracies don’t work that way.

Epilogue

Knowing what I know now, I should have just ignored Jim’s bangs on my door. The worst he could have done would have left a few nicks in the paint and dents in the door. Ignoring him is my plan going forward. I still have no idea why he decided to break out the windows or any of the rest. I suspect that I’ll never know.

Before you ask, the U.S. bureaucracy is just as bad as the Mexican. The first time he was taken to jail, I went to the U.S. consulate looking for a way to help him. I was on the verge of being thrown out after getting agitated when they insisted that they could do nothing for him unless he asked for help. Nor could they do anything about his threats to my life and well being... unless they were invited to take action by the Mexican authorities.

Oh… did I mention that Jim’s residency card expired years ago? Blanca and I went to the Mexican immigration office after Jim’s first trip to the jail house; thinking that if he were deported, he could get help in the states based on his military service. We were met by a different roadblock. I was escorted out after failing to show proper respect when told that, for some bureaucratic reason, there was nothing they could do. Blanca was embarrassed. From now on, I will be respectfully ignoring my old poker buddy Jim.

Yesterday Jim left a note in my door... which I ignored. I'm sharing it to show how futile it has been trying to deal with him as a reasonable, logical person.

"This is to help you and eliminate work for me. Everything I have says that what I have done is very normal regardless of your dreaming up imaginary thoughts. It has been, and is, totally logical. Continue if you want. I don't care. Good bye."

This morning he was back to his usual routine of yelling drunken obscenities at me, humming loudly, yelling cat calls at any attractive woman/girl who walks by on the street, and occasionally banging on something. All this as he stands just inside his front door in his underwear, worn over an adult diaper. No one pays any attention to it anymore.

A New Direction

It's been well over three years since I last posted on this blog. The plan is to pivot from the old "guide to activism", and focus on good old fashioned ranting about whatever.

What's Been Happening?

Looking back at posts made four years years ago about what changed between the life I enjoyed growing up and life in 2012, I used the term plutocracy to describe the powers that have taken control of America. When Bernie Sanders came to my attention a year ago, he used the more accurate term oligarchy. When he announced his candidacy, he called for a political revolution aimed at restoring representative democracy. That was music to my ears.

The next year was spent in an all out effort (by couch potato standards) to get Bernie Sanders into the White House. Most of my efforts were on Quora* and Facebook where more readers were likely to read what I had to say. Apparently not enough did. America now gets to choose between Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton. That is to say between an oligarch and someone who all too often supports the oligarchy. We could have done better.

If this were ten years ago, this couch potato would be making plans to join the protests next month. Despite enjoying good health at age 70, the spark it takes to pack up and spend a week marching around Philly in July is just not there. At this point, my activist juices are running low.

Where To Now?

Think of this as a transitional post. Future posts will document the comings and goings that mark points of interest on the path called life. Most will be relatively short in keeping with shrinking attention spans... mine included.

Nothing will be off limits, politics, religion and firearms are all fair game. That said, the emphasis will be on the lifestyle of an old, ex-pat, couch potato living in the tropics. There are more of us than you might think.

I moved from the U.S. to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico twenty one years ago this month. I'm open to questions on the topic of leaving the homeland to live a simpler life. A life where a monthly pension check goes a long way. The rich and famous come to visit for a week or two at a time in all inclusive resorts that bear no resemblance to real life in this part of the world. That's fine... it's even finer to live here.

New posts will be announced on my Facebook page. If you're into FB, look for Steve Wood. All my posts are Public so no need to be a "friend". Otherwise, check back here from time to time. Who knows what you'll find.

* To see my Quora content, click here and then click my name. My content is listed on the left side.

Que le vaya bien... Steve

A Ray of Hope

If anyone had told me I'd pay Facebook to promote a post, I'd have taken long odds to bet the other side. Today I'd be paying off big time. The text of said post follows...

Some rays of hope that something beneficial may come of the horror that was December 14th. Enough is enough.

That's what Senator Mark Warner, said Monday: "I had an NRA rating of an 'A.' But, you know, enough is enough. ... I'm the father of three daughters, and this weekend they all said, 'Dad ... how can this go on?' And I, like I think most of us, realize that there are ways to get to rational gun control."

In addition Joe Manchin, one of 31 senators with an "A" rating from the NRA, said Monday that the shooting "really has changed us. It's changed me.", adding "I don't know of anybody that goes hunting with an assault rifle. I don't know anybody that needs those types of multiple clips as far as ammunition in a gun,".

It appears that there is an awakening to the fact that the cost of allowing a minority to enjoy rapid fire, high capacity weapons (RFHC) is much, much too high. A bit of research reveals that the laws allowing them that privilege (no, it's not a right) are based on sabotage of the democratic process. Here's how it went down.

The NRA, formed after the civil war with noble intent, continued to focus on gun training and marksmanship until well into the 20th century. Then firearms manufacturers took interest, and by 1975 they had enough influence to back creation of the NRA sponsored Institute for Legislative Action, best known now as " the most powerful lobbying organization in the country." That power and the money that comes with it has been used to "influence" politicians and to inaccurately "educate" a gullible public that they have a right to own RFHC weapons. Those so educated have contributed huge amounts of money, which combined with support from manufacturers has made it possible to "influence" so many legislators that laws have been put on the books which support the minority's desire to own RFHC weapons to the detriment of society and against the will of the majority. Democracy is not supposed to work that way.

It appears that the complacent majority has been awakened in a tragically sad way. Those in the minority who continue to whine about losing the privilege to own RFHC weapons even though they haven't done anything wrong individually, come off looking arrogant, uniformed and selfish. Their numbers are rapidly shrinking as many realize that they are willing to live without their RFHC weapons if it means that the next time a deranged fountain of evil decides to go out in a blaze of insanity, a casualty count of 6 is much more likely than 26. You can't put a dollar value on that kind of savings.

What's Changed Since 1960: Part 2

Quick Refresher: In previous posts we saw anecdotal evidence that in the late 1950s and early 1960s a skilled worker could support a family of five, providing a reasonable working class standard of living. It has been suggested that perhaps my father’s work as a machinist was not representative for the time. I can only respond with more anecdotal evidence.

My sister’s best friend was also my girlfriend during part of that time; many years later we married. She is one of three children and her father was a mechanic at a new car dealership. He had a penchant for Cadillacs and the family always had one. My future mother-in-law, like my mother, worked raising a family. The family’s standard of living was much like that of my family.

One of my best friends was my sister’s boyfriend for a time. He had three brothers and his mother kept busy caring for the clan. His father had a small family business doing repair work and maintenance on mobile homes. Again, his income was enough to provide a standard of living similar to ours. I have fond memories involving a mix of these families spending long weekends in rented cabins on one of many lakes in the area. I don’t think any of us felt “deprived”.

I’m open to evidence, hard or anecdotal, showing that these were exceptions and that a person with the willingness and an ability to learn a trade couldn’t provide a similar standard of living for their family during that period. Absent such evidence we’ll move forward to identify what has changed such that a family of five in the same situation (one skilled worker, working one job) is hard pressed to get by, let alone own a home, buy a new car or go on extended family vacations.

Moving Right Along: The last post zeroed in on the disparity between growth in worker productivity from 1960 to 2010 (as indicated by Gross Domestic Product) and the rate at which worker's wages have increased over the same period. To allow for the effect of inflation values are stated in constant (inflation adjusted) dollars representing purchasing power in 2010.

Let’s start with per employee productivity growth. As we saw in the previous post, this Bureau of Labor Statistics report shows that since 1960 productivity per worker has more than doubled from $45,970 to $103,229. This raised suspicion that worker compensation for what used to be “the middle class” has failed to keep pace with productivity growth.

To confirm that suspicion take a look at the minimum wage. In 1960 it was $1 per hour, which had buying power equivalent to $7.35 today. With the current minimum wage at $7.25, unskilled entry level workers are being paid slightly less than they were fifty years ago despite a doubling of overall worker productivity.

What about people like my father, my future father-in-law and my friend’s father? As we’ve seen my father earned what would be the equivalent of nearly $78,000 per year today. According to Salary.com, a master machinist (Machinist III) might expect to earn about $52,000 in the Tulsa area today. The picture is even worse for an auto mechanic. I don’t know what my future wife’s father earned back then, but today he would be trying to raise a family of five on less than $45,000 per year as a master auto mechanic.

For one more example, take a look at starting hourly pay for college graduates over the past thirty years as seen in the chart on the left. The inflation adjusted values show only a marginal increase overall and a sharp decrease over the past ten years.

The facts so far show that productivity has more than doubled in constant dollars since 1960. Yet minimum wage workers, blue collar workers and college grads are making less, in some cases significantly less than their counterparts a few decades ago. Where are the dollars that represent that increased productivity going?

Following the Money: If workers (the producers) have not seen the benefit of productivity gains, who has? In a 2008 study Carola Frydman offers this assessment using General Electric as a proxy for successful large corporations.

“First, the total real level of pay for GE’s top three managers increased at a slow rate of about two percent per year from the 1940s to the 1960s. ... From the 1970s to the present, the compensation of the three highest-paid officers at GE has grown at the significantly higher annual rate of eight percent.”

In other words while worker pay has been stagnant or has declined over the past forty years, top executives have seen their pay outstrip inflation by a huge margin. The table below, from page 69 of an earlier study by Frydman and Saks, confirms this trend.

Key values in this table are 1960 - 1969 50th percentile and 2000 - 2005 50th percentile. Adjusted to reflect 2010 buying power the expanded values are $940,000 for the decade of the 1960s and $4,660,000 for the early 2000 period. Simply put, while American productivity doubled median executive compensation increased more than four and a half times. The increase is less pronounced at the bottom and jumps to over TEN TIMES for companies where executives earn the most.  This while worker pay in constant dollars declined, often significantly.

To put this phenomena in terms of real life examples, let’s look at Johnson and Johnson and Ford Motors. Both companies are in more or less the same business now as they were then. In constant 2010 dollars the CEO of those companies were paid $3.55 million and $2.32 million respectively in 1970. Their modern counterparts earned $28.72 million and 26.52 million respectively in 2010. This raises some questions.

• Are modern corporate executives creating more U.S. jobs than executives did forty or fifty years ago?
• Do modern Executives at "to big to fail" companies routinely bring ten times more value to their organization than their counterparts did in the past?
• Are they worth hundreds of times as much as the average worker compared to multiples of 20 or 30 that prevailed in the past?
• Is the process of setting executive compensation rigged in favor of the executives?
• How do very profitable companies in Japan, Germany and other modern economies succeed while paying their executives a fraction of U.S. rates?

Given the obvious answers is it any wonder that workers, students and concerned citizens are taking to the streets in protest? Reasons to protest multiply as we look into how our government has been complicit in and supportive of this redistribution of wealth from working class Americans to a privileged few.

Had corporate America and our own government been content with the distribution of GDP as it was in 1960, the minimum wage today would be around $15 per hour ($31,350 per year). A skilled worker with a several years experience would earn, and pay taxes on, an annual income approaching $140,000. Half of all workers would be earning more than $70,000 per year Top executives at “too big to fail” corporations would be scraping by on a mere $5 or $6 million per year while the average S&P 500 CEO would have to make do with $1 or $2 million per year.

Such a redistribution of compensation would be an incredible boost to the economy. Instead of dollars piling up in offshore investment accounts or being spent to buy legislators and legislation, those dollars would be buying goods and services resulting in job creation based on increased demand.

Not the Whole Answer: It’s not fair to say that the current compensation gap is the only explanation as to why it takes multiple jobs to maintain a working class standard of living in today’s economy. Another factor is that the bar has been raised. There are few if any 1,100 square foot starter homes being built in America today. Today’s families eat out much more often, spend a lot more on interest payments and have been convinced that they must have a lot of things that would have been considered “luxuries” fifty years ago. In other words $70,000 dollars today doesn’t go as far as the 1960 equivalent $9,530 because the target standard of living is now higher. Of course IF the effect of doubling the GDP were reflected in worker’s paychecks, they would easily meet and exceed the present standard.

Finally, to confirm that people much brighter than I have arrived at pretty much the same conclusion this quote is from an article by investigative reporter and activist George Monbiot that appeared in The Guardian on November 7th, 2011.

“Between 1947 and 1979, productivity in the US rose by 119%, while the income of the bottom fifth of the population rose by 122%. But from 1979 to 2009, productivity rose by 80%, while the income of the bottom fifth fell by 4%. In roughly the same period, the income of the top 1% rose by 270%.”

More on Those Protesters: Some fear that recent protests are a money grab by drifters looking to get something for nothing. They’ve heard on media outlets owned by corporations engaged in government corruption that the plan is to assess huge taxes on the rich and pass that money out in the form of welfare. Such a plan makes no sense because it wouldn’t do anything to fix the underlying problem. The problem being that our government no longer functions to carry out the will of its citizens. It has been corrupted by executives not satisfied to live like their counterparts did fifty years ago (high on the hog we used to call it). The protests are about changing that.

Make no mistake, there are drifters looking to get something for nothing; there are self proclaimed anarchists; there are some radical libertarians, tea party conservatives, people with something to sell and people from the major political parties thinking maybe they can coral supporters. All of these fringe elements combined make up just a small fraction of the millions who have taken time to inform themselves and who have decided to support the call for nonviolent change. It is a call to eliminate the corrupting influence of money and to require that government serve its citizens fairly, efficiently and transparently.

Organizers understand that the first step is to get the attention of those at the heart of the problem, the corrupted and those doing the corrupting. The classic way to get such attention is by disrupting the system.  This has been seen in the early stages of revolutionary change such as that brought about by the Suffrage, Civil Rights and Peace movements. That’s what is going on right now and will probably be going on for a while.

There are lots of ways to participate. The recent “Bank Transfer Day” is just one example. Refusing to contribute to any political campaign is another. Why would you, knowing that your contribution is nothing compared to the tens of thousands routinely given by corporate special interests. Be creative, be informed and be involved. Now you know why I’m doing this and I hope you’ll join me.

--- Que le vaya bien...Steve

Bank Transfer Day and What's Changed Since 1960

The main focus of today's post is identifying what has changed over the past fifty years that makes it nearly impossible for a skilled laborer in America to support a family of five at a comfortable working class level. Before getting into that, November 5th is tomorrow and it's important enough that any couch potato activist worth their salt should understand the what and why of it.

Bank Transfer Day

Image by thinkprogress.org

The Occupy movement has declared November 5th to be Bank Transfer Day. For some time now that has been an arbitrary target date for those who no longer wish to support an institution involved in the near collapse of our economy to transfer their money to a credit union or community bank where it won't be used to buy legislation. There is a fair amount of misinformation floating around the cyber universe. Here are a few important facts.



1) This action is not intended to create "a run" on the banking system or to "take it down". Banks and credit unions in the U.S., large and small, are all part of the same system, so unless millions withdraw funds and put them in a tin can under the porch, this shifting of funds poses no threat to the system. It does however send a message to those "too big to fail" banks that we know what they are up to and we don't like it.

2) This action was never a protest against the $5 fee BofA announced on debit card transactions, with the other big guys suggesting that they were working on a similar gouge. As things worked out all banks, BofA included, have backed off of the attempted rip off. This only illustrates the power of a united populace, it does not mean that you should give up your right to send a message by moving your money.

3) Except in a few isolated metro areas it is not difficult to find a suitable credit union or community bank that will open an account and help you make the switch. This article reports that over 650,000 new credit union accounts were opened in October, more than in all of 2010. A recent television report found that if you do your homework and take the required documents with you, making the switch can be done in under twenty minutes.

4) Finally, the November 5th date (N5 in Occupy speak) is not magical. If you read this months from now or two days from now and realize you no longer want to support the opposition, be an activist, make the switch.


What's Changed Since 1960

Graph by data360.org

As you learned in the previous post, my father worked his way up over the years to become a skilled machinist. While I don't know the details of his benefit package at the locally owned machine shop where he worked, I do recall his pride in a raise that put him over $5 per hour, $5.10 to be exact. That sticks in my mind because at the time (summer 1962) I was washing dishes at a Howard Johnson for 72 cents per hour (below the minimum of $1.00 because I got a free meal at the end of my four hour shift).

According to this inflation calculator, $5.10 in 1962 is the equivalent of $37.26 now or $77,873 per year based on 40 hours per week, 52.25 weeks per year. The average annual income for a skilled laborer today is $39,000. To be more specific, salary.com shows that a machine tool cutting operator with up to two years experience can expect to earn from $20,000 per year to $46,000 per year based on location and experience. The high number is for the the top 10% and is not likely to be representative of eastern Oklahoma. Was my father's extra experience worth an extra thirty or forty thousand (2010) dollars per year?

Based on a 2010 Bureau of Labor Statistics report the value of goods and services produced in our country (GDP) rose from over 3 trillion to over 14 trillion inflation adjusted dollars from 1960 to 2010. Part of that increase is due to increased efficiency and part is due to population growth and multiple family members working. The per worker amount stated in 2010 dollars has increased from $45,970 to $103,229. Clearly the working class has not benefited from from their increased productivity. Who has benefited?

Table 3 below contains a big clue. The inflation rate from 1960 to now has averaged 4.14% per year. Notice that from 1960 to 1980 executive pay rose at a comparable rate. Even allowing for the runaway inflation of the late 1970s and early 1980s, a 7.59% per year rate of increase during the 1980s is clearly out of line. Finally, there can be no free market economy explanation for the 14.6% per year increase in the 1990s. The booming economy didn't float all boats equally. Working class Americans were left treading water. The table only takes us to 2003. A report in USA today this past April 4th reveals that in 2010 compensation for CEOs jumped an incredible 27 percent!

Another clue comes from the fact that average CEO pay has jumped to 753 times minimum wage in 2010 which translates to (753 * $7.25) $5,459.25 per hour. Compare that to 2003 where the chart stops when that ratio was about 450:1 with the minimum wage at $5.15 per hour or (450 * $5.15) $2,317.50 per hour for CEOs on average. In other words in seven years CEO pay more than doubled. If we just call it a double that translates to over 10% per year, well over twice the average rate of inflation.

Save for another day the fact that in other successful, industrialized countries the ratio of CEO pay to worker pay is below 20:1 while the U.S. ratio is several hundred to one depending on how it's calculated. Any way you slice it, beginning in the 1980s we see a clear disparity in the distribution of wealth that can't be explained given a well regulated free market economy. Next time we'll have a look at the interaction between those on the receiving end of that disparity and our government. Until then, que le vaya bien...Steve

Historical Trends in Executive Compensation1936-2003 by Carola Frydman and Raven E. Saks

Updated November 13th, 2011 to use Bureau of Labor Statistics tables to eliminate problems accessing tables on data360.

FAQ: Why Are You Doing This?

I created this blog and support activist movements dedicated to getting money out of politics because I've been around long enough to have seen what's changed in America. More specifically what has been stolen from the citizens of America, especially from the young.

Our family moved from a rural area to "the big city" in 1954 where I lived until graduation from high school in 1964. For most of those ten years my mom's job was to manage our home and do what she could to keep three offspring in line. In the later years she did work part time at a nearby animal shelter. Not for the money, but because she loves critters.

My dad made the most of his eighth grade education. He had learned how to learn and used that ability to become a skilled machinist after spending a number of years mastering auto mechanics. He also told tales of an early life riding freight trains to the Pacific Northwest to pick fruit and time spent building roads in parks while on a Works Progress Administration (WPA) crew.

Illustration by Boris Artzybasheff

Soon after we moved to town he went to work for a local machine shop. I don't know the details of his pay or benefits; I only know that it was not a great concern when one of us had to go to the doctor. Given that my brother and I had a penchant for motor bikes, tree houses and rambunctious escapades it's a miracle that there were no hospital stays.

Just over a year after arriving we moved from a rental house into a new house in what was then a working class neighborhood on the outskirts of town. The 1,100 sq. ft. house cost $10,000 which would be roughly $80,000 in 2010 dollars. Allowing for it's size, that's comparable to a 1,500 sq. ft. starter home today that might sell for $110,000. In 1957 the family car was upgraded from a well worn early 50's Plymouth to a brand new Pontiac. By 1960 the Pontiac was paid off.

Most summers we loaded into that Pontiac for a family vacation. One year we went east and visited New York City and the Jersey Shore. Another year it was west to visit family and friends in the Los Angeles area where my mom was born. There were stops at the Grand Canyon and various other attractions along the way. One year my grandma, who lived in a smaller town about fifty miles from our new home, joined us for a big loop that included Las Vegas, San Francisco and Yellowstone Park. My dad liked gadgets, so that trip was documented on 8mm movie film (now preserved on DVD).

Another summer tradition was a two or three week stay at grandma's house. My grandfather had passed away when I was a baby and grandma never remarried. She lived in a little house a few blocks from Safeway and not much farther from the building where she had worked many years for a big oil company. She had done night work, cleaning offices, until she neared retirement and moved to the position of elevator operator. Everyone in the building got to know her, and she retired with a decent pension to supplement a tiny social security check and some money she'd set aside at the bank.

Those summer visits bring back the best of memories as we played tag, collected locust shells and drew pictures on the back sides of an endless supply of paper salvaged from waste baskets over the years. Grandma never owned a car and walked everywhere, with the three of us in tow during our visits. The bank tellers knew her by name and any excursion downtown was sure to include a number of cheerful exchanges as we crossed paths with friends, neighbors and workmates.

In summary, our family of five lived a comfortable if common lifestyle on my father's pay as a skilled laborer. My grandmother was respected at a big company where employees, even janitors, were treated fairly and made to feel important.

That's all gone now. If I hadn't seen and lived it myself, I'd call it a pipe dream. Where did it go? What has changed to make it impossible today? Being a slow learner, it wasn't until late 2008 that the first clues started coming together. I was in the fortunate position of having time on my hands which allowed me to do some digging with regard to the ongoing financial crisis.

My digging soon uncovered greed that riled my sensibilities to the point that I made a video and submitted it as a CNN iReport. That explains the CNN references and my lame attempt to imitate their house curmudgeon Jack Cafferty. The title is what at the time I thought was a clever way to get attention. It has survived on YouTube and you can watch it here.

Three years later I stand behind the facts reported. When I made that video Obama had just been elected and I naively thought that the media would jump on the story and that our new president would see to it that the greedy bastards ended up broke and in prison. I was wrong on all counts.

A comment left by a viewer suggests why my plea for Cassano's incarceration fell on deaf ears.

"If Cassano wasn't in bed with half the politicos in Washington, that might be possible. If the politicians had to disclose how they helped create the problem we would need to build a big prison on Pennsylvania Ave.;-)"

After a bit more research it became painfully obvious that our government has been bought off and is controlled by the greedy looters behind the financial collapse. Non-partisan evidence goes back twenty years to include Clinton/Rubin, Bush/Paulson and Obama/Geithner. At that point I gave up, conceding that there was nothing one old man living in Mexico could do that would make a difference.

Fast forward to a month and ten days ago. A movement calling itself Occupy Wall Street set up camp in Zuccatti Park in lower Manhattan. A few days later a friend on facebook mentioned it and noted that there was every indication that a media blackout of the event had been ordered. Being Mr. Curious I started looking for information and found that even the Internet didn't offer up much. The Guardian, a British newspaper, posted the best coverage.

I quickly learned that the explosion of greed back in 2008 was at the core of the protest. They wanted heads to roll and were calling for an end to government control by the looters. My kind of people. As good fortune (karma?) would have it, one week after they set up camp an overzealous cop sprayed a group of young women with pepper spray creating a story that could not be suppressed. You know the rest... or you should if you care about a decent future for your offspring.

That's why I'm doing this. I'm not what you would call a patriot; after all I skipped out to live my golden years in Mexico. None the less, I do care for our country and now that I know who stole the life I enjoyed growing up, I want it returned. I want today's babies and tomorrow's babies to enjoy the level playing field that made it possible for someone to work forty hours a week and support a family. In the next episode we'll dig into just what needs to change to make that possible again. Hint: follow the money.

--- Que le vaya bien... Steve