Michigan: Found and Lost - a Microcosm of the Country

I Love Michigan: Born and Raised.

Troy, Michigan: where I grew up. Spending summers at water parks like Four Bears, learning to ride a bike down one of its moderately hilly streets. Where I got married. Where I went to grad school.

Bloomfield Hills, Michigan: where I attended high school. Knowing nothing about football and attending the games anyway during the crisp, fall nights. Building floats and dreaming of being a musician.

Ann Arbor, Michigan: where I attended school for my undergrad. Where I got my start as a performer and learned to love music at some of the finest performing institutions in the state. Did you know that as of 2002, Michigan had the most seats in entertainment venues per capita than anywhere else in the entire country? Boggles the mind.

Birmingham, Michigan: where I started a band in my then-friend-now-husband's apartment. Where I used to hang out with my high school friends.

Detroit: where I've gigged, auditioned. Farmington Hills: where I've worked. Royal Oak: where I was born and now live.

And on and on. Despite itching to move to some big city in my early 20's, I have grown to love this state: its beauty, the seasons, the people, the diversity, and the opportunities. Yet I feel like I'm being driven out. Mike and I have "back-up plans" in case we lose our jobs, our home. We agonize over every expenditure that is not groceries and worry if getting another dog, having a child, or getting a second vehicle (motorcycle with sidecar, ha!) is irresponsible.

Michigan has some of the most incredible competitive advantages in the country: a highly-educated and motivated workforce in industrial and scientific industries, ample natural resources, proximity to Canada, major road, air and water ports, wonderful educational institutions. (I know some of you will jump to mention some of these things are funded by taxes, but you will be missing my point entirely.)

What's Bad for the Goose is Bad for the Gander

Sadly, Michigan is continuing to be a petri dish for the rest of the country when it comes to spending. (What's the current unemployment rate?) For those of you who read my blog regularly, you know I have some serious reservations about Governor Granholm's decision-making in our state, and I warned strongly against her policies in November of last year: that how Michigan goes, so will our country. Up to now, it seems I have been correct. Let's hope I am proven wrong soon.

Ms. Granholm recently said in the 2009 State of the State address: "President Obama's priorities are nearly identical to ours." She further explains, "He, too, is focused on jobs for middle America, and new, renewable energy jobs. He, too, is focused on education. He too is focused on protecting people. He's proposed a sweeping economic recovery plan for the nation."

Never mind that the word "focus" is a surrogate for "government spending." Never mind that "focus" won't be bringing jobs back. Never mind that "focus" has led to spending sprees, torn up roads that may or may not have needed repairs, and hours of productivity lost by people who are blessed to still have jobs to waiting in long traffic lines so that "Americans" can be put to work.

I put "Americans" in quotations because as far as I can tell, they are invisible, or must transform themselves into large orange road cones when I pass, as I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen any bodies performing road repair work. And worse, these Americans are asked to perform needless glamour work - like tearing up sidewalks in downtown Royal Oak to replace them with pretty bricks. Seriously. I'd rather someone get a job doing something more useful - we don't need beautification. We need sustainable growth.

Back to Granholm. She tries to allay our fears by adding, "If anyone thinks we should use the stimulus package to create bigger government in Michigan, they should think again. I have a veto pen and I will use it." Those words would be enthralling coming from anyone who had a track recording of not growing government, bailing out companies during their tenure (not just in recent months), and giving favors to special interests and private corporations without competition or merit.

Michigan: The Next Hollywood? Hardly.

One example of the deceit and theivery going on under the guise of economic growth is in the fast-growing Michigan film industry. Michigan Representative Peter Lund (a former professor of mine) is leading the charge against the cash subsidies for the film industry. While a recent economic report indicated "Entertainment" is the fastest-growing sector in my home county this year with over $83 million in investment - the term "investment" is left undefined as to whether it is in private or public dollars, which matters greatly. Lund argues that the tax breaks given to the movie industry are leading to effective cash subsidies which drain Michigan taxpayers further, rather than reducing their financial burdens to the state!

Don't get me wrong - I am all about tax cuts, but not when they result in tax increases for the taxpayer to fund major movie corporations! That is not my idea of economic growth or equity, nor should anyone else be fooled into thinking is it.

Furthermore, as a colleague of mine recently pointed out: what's to stop another state from doing the same? There is little competitive advantage in the film industry here, and Big Hollywood will go where they can get the most bang for their buck.

I could go on and on, but instead, I'm posting the following video from the Center for Freedom and Prosperity featuring Dan Mitchell of the Cato Institute, since he does a very good job outlining 8 reasons why bigger government and its accompanying spending sprees is unequivocally bad for the fiscal health of a country (or city, or state).

To learn more about this topic, watch the short video. Oh, and email me: milena@quietthethunder, because we need to change this thing, and I'm looking for rational, dedicated people who are willing to work with me to do so.

"Something You Can Take to Congress Other Than a Teabag"

I have to admit that ever since I saw the Tea Parties during the second round of stimulus, I had mixed emotions. I was thrilled people finally were getting off their duffs to do something, but I was also disheartened to see that there was no coherent plan of action other than just gathering together and complaining, and like any large disorganized group, the crazies came out of the woodwork to ruin it for the whole bunch.

Overall, I find the news to be full of sensationalism, one side trying their best to out-outrage the other. This has gotten to be so tedious I gave up TV when the whole conversion box thing happened and I now get my news on an as-needed basis: if I need to know, someone will surely tell me.

There is so much wrong, and so few people who truly have a clue what to do about it other than line up at the trough for more and more handouts from Big Daddy Government.

What is wrong with this picture? Why would you want the same people who have failed miserably at providing public health care to provide more of it? Why would you want the same people who ruined our financial system to be in charge of putting it together?

For insights on these topics and some interesting anecdotes, watch this 10 minute lecture from Professor David Breuhan (a former professor of mine). He is also an author who is releasing a book on November 1st entitled, Spread the Wealth: More Haves Fewer Have Nots.

I am hoping to generate a lively dialogue about the ideas he presents here and eventually, in the book, on the Brazen Careerist Economics and Finance forum which I moderate. If you are unfamiliar with Brazen Careerist, it is a social network loosely geared towards Gen Y professionals. Yes, I know, it's annoying to have to sign up for yet another social network, but I recommend it!

To summarize points from the video:

1. Cash for Clunkers was a dismal failure and example of "circular production." $3 Billion dollars was worth only 3 weeks worth of cars. The Ford Focus was overwhelmingly purchased as "American." Sales at GM and Chrysler declined during and after the program. The 3 weeks worth of car sales provided a fuel savings (between the Clunkers and the new vehicles) equal to 22 seconds of fuel consumption (according to the WSJ).

2. $787 Billion Stimulus is another failure. Because Bush's $150 Billion didn't work, $787 will? The promise of 3 million jobs for $787 billion in stimulus - you get $262,000 a job. Clearly this makes no sense, and not a single person will ever see that kind of money.

3. Ethanol is a failure and the people who brought you ethanol now want to bring you health care.

Scary times - join the conversation.

The White Bucket

Every time I go outside to garden, I grab a white bucket from the garage. It becomes an extension of me as I move around from task to task. I might throw it a few feet away to mark the new spot I'll start to weed. I know exactly how far to toss an over-ripened squash to make it in the bucket without looking away from the plant I'm pruning.

I love this bucket.

Its uses seem endless. When I decide what I'm going to tackle outside that day, I toss the implements I'll need inside the white bucket and be on my way. If I'm nourishing plants around my yard with compost, I'll fill the white bucket and scatter handfuls as I make the rounds. I will use the white bucket to transfer 2 medium or several small plants from one location to another in the yard. If I was a kid, this bucket would be my binkie.

I love this bucket.

Not only is this bucket my most frequently used item outdoors, it is the most frequently used item I inherited from my father. It used to be his white bucket. He used to carry it will him on job sites. Filling it with rags, washers, paint, cement, or sawdust, perhaps. I have other things of his. I have nicer things of his. But I’m too scared to touch them or use them. I have a few items of clothing that I dare not take out of the drawer. A watch I wear only on special occasions.

Mike and I were about to walk the dog at my mom's house the other day, and it started to rain. I grabbed a rain jacket from the closet. It was my dad's. I cried the whole walk. I could remember hugging my father in that same rain jacket. I remember the way his arms felt through the cool, lightweight fabric. I could still smell the cigarette smoke baked into the threads.

I rarely use these things. I fear they will fall apart, or I’ll lose them. Not this bucket. It is one of those heavy-duty industrial buckets from Home Depot, you know? You can throw it across the yard, and it makes a pleasant hollow sound because of its thick, molded walls. I imagine one day my kids will stand on it, or use it as an astronaut helmet.

This bucket is used. This bucket is loved.

It is so appropriate this is the item I carry around with me every day to do my chores. It is a fitting commemoration of my father, symbolizing his greatest gifts to me: his industriousness, his intrepid can-do spirit, his earthiness, his humble beginnings and end.

I love that I am with him every day, working with his bucket.

---

Possibly related posts:

• Remember
  
• Law and Order
  
• Thoughts on Pain
  

Be the Change, Or At Least Change Your Shirt

Yesterday I was riding my bike to the grocery store. I take a route through my neighborhood to minimize how many major roads I have to cross. I ride in the street because bikes are supposed to, and because there are often kids and other obstacles on the sidewalks.

I use hand turn signals and everything, and usually I don't have problems from drivers, but this kid in a red jeep was really eager to get somewhere and insisted on dangerously speeding up and swerving around myself and a parked car he encountered as he passed.

Clearly he wasn't interested in the fact that by "taking the road" (this is edict for bike riders, to stay at least 4 feet away from the curb, to increase visibility to drivers and reduce the chances of accidents by riding too close to the curb) I was reducing his liabilities.

I pulled into the grocery store parking lot, and as I was chaining up my bike, the same guy pulls into the parking lot after me. (You have to admit I'm entitled to a special sense of glee beating him there!) His eye caught mine and I could tell he looked ashamed, as he knew he had acted like an ass, and here we were, shopping at the same store.

That moment was enough to make me feel vindicated, but the best part was as I was leaving the store, I saw him at the can deposit area, his back turned to me with the slogan on his t-shirt reading, "Be the Change." What an embarrassment for him!

I know it's easy to be rude to strangers you think you'll never see and perhaps only try to treat people you know nicely. But you really never know who you will encounter, or what your impact will be on them or yourself, however brief.

Hey, Run My Can Over

Today I was reminded of the so-called halcyon days of summer, you know, full of childish ebullience and mangled grammar?

While running errands via bike, I was audience to a number of delightful people-watching opportunities. First, a porch baby. You know, the baby on the porch whose parents are nowhere to be seen? He was babbling to his mailbox and looking suspiciously at me over his shoulder. Good for him.

Another memorable character was a young boy sitting on the curb of a low-traffic neighborhood street.

Ahead of me a car rolled by and the boy started shouting excited, incomprehensible words; victorious in tone.

As I approached on my bike he yelled, “Hey, run my can over!” But he was not really saying it to me. It was as if he was calling out to the Gods of Running Over Cans to send a willing participant. I looked to my left to see a squashed generic cola can. He looked at me excitedly, eyebrows raised over his perfectly round little-kid glasses. He also had a side part.

I half-smiled, kept rolling by, and did not veer towards the can. He seemed unaffected, confident another passerby would be more enthusiastic about his game.

Turning the corner I saw my least favorite group of society: unsupervised adolescent boy gangs. There is something so unappealing about this group, at this age. Their awkwardness, their bizarre behavior. They are like puppies with energy, eyes, and feet too big to fit their bodies. As a result they always give me the uncomfortable impression they are dizzy and about to fall down.

They are also unfortunately hormonal, with all the accompanying traits and behaviors. They refuse to get a normal haircut, wear clothing that fits, or censor a word that comes out of their mouths. Most gratefully, turning 29 has officially placed me in Ma'am territory, so anyone under 18 is reluctant to shout obscene advances since they are worried I could be their new homeroom teacher.

I pass the gang without incident.

I also had a brief encounter with an old man lacking peripheral vision and adequate hearing, who, despite my numerous attempts to maneuver around him with proper notice, was unable to sense my presence. I eventually had to rudely cut him off.

These scenes have been playing themselves out forever.

For some reason this felt extremely reassuring to me. For some reason it made me feel like my life is just like the lives of the vegetables, fruits, and flowers I planted in my garden this summer: beautiful, purposeful, and finite.

---

Possibly related posts:

• A Certain Kind of Beautiful
  
• Why Is It Wrong to Love You?
  
• He Called it Starbuck