My Plan to Get Rich

I had been planning this for a while, but now that the last brick is in place with universal health care, I'm ready to jump in with both feet. I found out why I'm having trouble making ends meet: I'm too rich. I am one of the greedy, filthy class that actually wants to pay for things out of my earnings, but this will happen no more.

I'm currently working two jobs, and that's two jobs too many. I have discovered some wonderful things that can replace those jobs:

• Lonestar. Not the beer or the state. It's a magic card. I only noticed one recently. There is a secret slot in the Walmart check out line. If you run a card down the highly visible slot, you will lose money. A Lonestar card goes into a less obvious slot before you buy, and just stays there. Then the checker scans items and if it beeps, you get billed zero, and get to take the item home. Sometimes it makes another noise, and you have to pay for that, but it's not too bad. I figure that card could save us a couple of thousand per month. Money that I plan on not making any more.
• Section 8. I thought that was what Klinger wore a dress for, and it was to get out of the army. But now I know better. When you get a section 8, someone else pays your rent and utilities. I see apartments advertising that they welcome "section 8" people, so they must be a popular bunch. I could live in a house without having to pay any rent or utilities. Now there's a money saver. I wonder if they help with cable.
• 1040 EZ. I don't get to file one of those because I have too many jobs and make too much money. I have to file the regular 1040, the one that penalizes stupid people like me for trying to make it on my own. You go to one of those cash advance places, and they look downright disappointed when you show them the 1040 instead of the EZ, because they know there's less money to be skimmed from you with that thing. But after I quit my jobs, I will be able to get an EZ. It's free and at the post office. I looked this year for the schedule C, the SE, and some forms starting with the number "8" that I had to use, that the post office doesn't have them. Next year, I'm getting a free EZ from the post office, and sending it in. I expect money.
• Tax credits. I have been so stupid. I did not realize that if you earn money, you have to pay the government, but if you don't, the government pays you! Millions of Americans this year will get money from the IRS even though they didn't pay taxes. All you have to do is quit earning and this money can be yours. Now I did get some tax credits for the three kids I have in college, but those jobs messed me up again. If I don't have these two jobs, I will get more help for my kids. But if the don't, I'm thinking about telling them about this too. They will like me more. I'm always on their case about getting a job, about working harder. No more of that. My goal for all my kids is that they be able to sum up their lives on a 1040 EZ every year, and get paid for it. And get medical care. And a house.

It has been a real wake-up call for me. I cannot believe how stupid I have been. When I think about all the time I could have stayed home while my kids were growing up, how I could have tended my yard and read some good books and watched Oprah, I realize that I have thrown my life away. The benevolent government tried to educate me with this, but I had listened to my grandparents and been brainwashed. I thought people still earned money and used it to take care of themselves.

I'm kind of old to be starting, but I'm going to be a good citizen from now own. I will trust my loving, benevolent, big government to care for me. I will trust them for a roof, heat and cooling, and a meal on my table (I wonder where I go to get a free table to put it on?)

My moment of awakening happened this week. I have been wasting several hundred dollars a month on insurance, and still, when we go to the doctor, I have to add to that. I have been tempted to just quit paying insurance, but Nancy Pelosi says that, since I still make money, I can be sent to jail for doing that.

But no problem. I'm quitting both my jobs. I will no longer be earning. I'm getting a section 8 and a Lonestar, and I'm going to use a 1040 EZ so I can get money in April. The icing on the cake is that I will also be getting medical care. It will be so nice not to have those monthly insurance payments any more. All I have to do now is go to a clinic and show them my government card. They will take care of me.

In case you are wondering about other items, don't worry. I am not letting my wife quit her job. It will be enough to take care of the things I want, like a car and a DVD player to connect to my 60 inch television that I'm going to buy with my EZ money next year. If I can't find any way to get the government to pay for my gas, she can. She can also buy some luxuries and other nice things. If she can't pay for these things, I'm counting on those of you who still have jobs to take up the slack, because that's your responsibility.

I'm just sorry I took so long to get with the program. I'm going house-hunting as soon as I quit my jobs. But don't worry, readers. I will keep in touch. This computer is going with me. I believe it's every American's right to have unlimited high-speed internet. For those of you who work, like I used to, well, it's your privilege to pay for it. Thanks in advance.

Making the Most of a Blank Check

Clause/North Pole Applies for Bailout Money

Thursday, December 25, 2008
by Staff Writer B.O. Sanity

Augusta, Maine (AIP) - Sources close to the banking committee have reported that there was an eleventh-hour request submitted just before congress adjourned for the long Christmas holiday, and many on Wall Street will be running for cover when the market re-opens for a mini-session on Friday. Clause/North Pole (Nasdaq CNPL) is requesting up to 75 billion dollars of the federal bail-out money that has been set aside for troubled businesses. The call is expected to send CNPL into a tailspin when trading opens, but Clause's chief financial advisor recommends moderation, saying that there are already corrective measures on the way that will see the stock returning to pre-December levels by mid-February.

Clause cited competition from new corporations such as Kwanza and renovation of older ones such as Ramadan (which cuts into the December market much earlier in the month) and has asked for protective measures. Clause cited the dependence of American corporations on their product delivery framework, though detractors have noted that CNPL now delivers up to 70% non-American manufactured goods, most notably from China and Indonesia. Rapid downsizing in native workforce has been the trend since the eighties, when CNPL, then the pre-merger North Pole Industries, a private corporation, offered early retirement to any assembly line manufacturers who were 350 years old or older.

Many current manufacturers who use CNPL as a delivery framework are dissatisfied with several strategies that they say are now "outdated," and feel that production and distribution are suffering from a "good/bad" criterion that hampers overall production. Sony and Nintendo have threatened to withdraw from the CNPL delivery system altogether when the current contract expires in 2011 unless CNPL can redefine "good and bad." Walmart has also entered talks, calling on CNPL to be more environment friendly, and calculate green behavior into the "good" mode.

Clause, CEO of the corporation, issued a statement requesting that they be allowed a time of reorganization. Though global warming and ice melting has not yet affected headquarters, Clause requested up to two billion for contingency expenses in the possibility of a need for relocation and recovery of resources. Heavily criticized as not even being an American corporation due to the out of country location, Clause noted that applicable taxes are assessed from the corporations that contract his delivery service, and assured potential investors that, in the unlikely event of a relocation, CNPL would favor US Territory and would negotiate with American labor organizations.

Rumor has it that Target, Inc, attempted a hostile buy-out of 51% of CNPL's stock last July during Clause's executive retreat at Aruba, but the takeover bid was curtailed when Wachovia refused to advance a line of credit to Target for the 350 million dollar shortfall that would be needed for full purchase. Claus's legal team has since privatized 51% of CNPL's outstanding stock, a move which temporarily saw shares rise by as much as fourteen percent in early August, but which has seen twice the decline since.

Clause reported early this morning, returning from the annual delivery cycle, that the outlook actually is good for a short term gain in the first quarter, but there is still talk on Wall Street of cutbacks, and CNPL's employees, who uniquely receive their seasonal bonuses in late January instead of early December, are grumbling about the delayed bonuses which allegedly will not be given until the February numbers are out this year, and are said to be stock shares in the company instead of traditional cash gifts.

There has also been a rumbling over a potential split of the company, and rumors of marital turbulence between Clause and his wife are being downplayed. Ms. Clause owns 20 percent of CNPL's public shares, and it is common knowledge that she has been in extended discussions with Martha Stewart over a possible merger, which, of course, would offset Walmart business with the less viable Kmart name.

CNPL's request for funds will not go without a price. House Banking Committee Chairman Rep Barney Frank (D-NY), said that there would be some governmental control of the North Pole distribution network, and there would need to be concessions by Clause and company regarding procedures. Frank has expressed concern about traditional gay views and possible conflicts with the "good/bad" list.

Critics have said that one reason for artificial perceived growth in CNPL is the possibility of reduced delivery expenses due to an increase in "bad" children in the equation, and many corporations, such as Disney, Sears, and Time-Warner have expressed concern about loss of product, and want to see representatives from their own corporations on the conduct evaluatory board that determines who is good and bad (http://www.naughtyornice.np/). Frank has recommended a congressional committee be added as well, and says that Clause cannot expect any help unless he is willing to make this concession.

CNPL closed Wednesday at 324.23, down 17.21, and down from their all-time high in 1998 of 768.23.

Digital Health Care: A Parable

I didn't really need to do it. But there it was, free for the taking: a forty dollar coupon. And the government was offering it to me, no strings attached.

As you probably know, next February, TV as we have known it since the days of Uncle Miltie, will disappear. Along with it, we will bury all those mysteries we wondered about when we were kids, like "Why is there no channel 1?" or "Why did they pick 13 channels?" and the long-solved "What does the 'UF' mean that is right after the thirteen on my knob?" I remember an ad later for a TV that said, "It gets all 82 channels." I don't think there's been an 82-channel tuner for quite a while now. But I have really digressed. Those reliable old channels, whether 12 or 82 or whatever number, have one big fault in this digital world: they take up way too much bandwidth. And those tiny slivers of digital channels can hold tons of information. The only channel that really gets to my house without static has at least two other channels streamlined in the narrow-band digital signal which my TV does not get. So I really understand the win/win situation of the FCC: with digital channels mandated, antenna-fed TV will improve, and all those gigantic dinosaur channels can be sliced up into delightful digital frequencies as well, to be sold for high dollar to wireless companies, communication agencies, and public service. It's a wise business decision, and I stand in awe that someone at the FCC figured that out. It must have been outsourced.

My TV. I bought it at KMart seven years ago when it was on sale. I really can't tell you how many channels it gets, because any time I do auto channel set-up it does it differently. But I do know this: it's not a digital TV. So I came to the realization that, on a clear February morning in 2009, the TV will no longer work. But that's almost OK with me. I've got "The Andy Griffith Show" on DVD, as well as many other favorite shows. The DVD player will continue to work, along with the ancient VCR (also analog). But I will lack one thing: local news and weather, and some college football games this fall. So I needed a digital tuner; after all, why buy a new digital TV, not to mention HDTV, etc, to get one channel here in the sticks? We have no cable. I could buy a satellite dish, but why pay 30-80 dollars a month so I can watch twice as many commercials in the middle of cut-up shows?

I am a perfect candidate for a digital tuner: we have two TV's, both analog. We don't have satellite. We will never have cable -- I'm 10 miles from the nearest cable connection. So I went online and filled out the information, being totally truthful. The last part of the form, by the way, is where you have to swear you're telling the truth -- Scout's honor -- and I had the sneaky suspicion they still didn't believe me. Oh, wait. There was another thing to fill out: one of those things where you read the scrambled box with lines through it and then type in what you see so you can prove that you're a human being and not a robot like Wall-E or something.

I did all that, and crossed my heart and hoped to die as I sent it. And got back the "request denied" page. It seems that I am living in either a multi-family dwelling or a business establishment. If there's another family in here, I've never met them, but that does explain who keeps forgetting to close doors, who's not throwing away their garbage or cleaning up after themselves. It must be another family; the IRS can vouch that there's no money-making business under this roof.

They had a little link to click to appeal the decision. I clicked that link and it gave me the "I'm not a robot" test again, and kicked me out without even saying goodbye. I went back to the site, and, paraphrasing, it said, "Oh, it's you again; I told you to beat it!" So then, I went to the phone and dialed the 24/7 hotline. After talking to computers (why do they get to be computers and robots and I don't? Shouldn't I be able to give them one of those squiggly lines tests?) a very courteous voice said, "We're sorry, but your request is rejected. If you think this is in error, please e-mail us at %#*&^@*&^%">%#*&^@*&" -- at least that's what it sounded like before they hung up on me without repeating the e-mail or telling me which button of the phone to push to hear the address again -- after I retrieved the pen that was within arm's reach.

So I dialed the number again, because I've heard if you work at those automated things long enough, you'll finally reach a human. It took a few minutes, but I finally got to dial a "0," and it thanked me and told me to hold until the next available human being could answer. Then, in about ten seconds, it told me it was impossible to talk to a human right now, and hung up on me -- click -- and gave me a dial tone.

Yesterday I found an email address on the website, though I don't think it's the one that I was given over the phone. So I wrote them and told them my plight. Last night, just before bed, I was pleased to find a response from the FCC in my inbox. Finally, I thought. It said, "Thank you for contacting the Federal Communications Commission (FCC). This is an automated message to confirm that we have received your correspondence. We will review your information to determine how we can best serve you." Another robot.

When Dark February arrives, I will do what I should have done in the first place. I will go to a store, buy a digital receiver, and pay for it with the money I have saved in seven months, which is a drop in the bucket. Then I will come home and watch Magic TV. And I'll do it without welfare. When I think about how free the government is with our tax dollars -- they are going to send out millions of these rebates because people can't save 40 dollars in a year -- I'm ashamed I even tried. In fact, if the FCC relents and sends me a coupon, I will tear it up.

Now, what does this have to do with Health Care? I think you can guess. Big Government has shown it can't even deliver a simple product to the very people it was designed for (I'll repeat: if anyone qualified for one of those tuners, it was me). I'm glad I wasn't applying online for heart surgery or an appendectomy. Robots don't have hearts or appendices (appendexes?), and might not understand that I do. I also doubt that most politicians have the former, and know they've all removed the latter to use up the money in their excellent health insurance program that I pay for.

Why are 200 million people -- or more -- willing to trust the Federal Government to manage our health care when they can't even send you a Wal-Mart coupon? What scares me more is to realize that for every person like myself: someone with an honest request for a genuine need, who is turned down, there are probably two or three who have requested these coupons under pretense, and who are going to get them, and turn this government freebie around and take the FCC -- or whoever is doing this -- for huge sums of money.

Now you see where this is going. I will have no problem with saving for electronic equipment: it's affordable and dependable, with good guarantees. Why? Because the government, outside of this one little experiment, has not ventured into the world of electronics, and so that realm remains free to grow, unfettered, constantly improving. Can you imagine what a PC would look like today if the government had funded the research and there had not been capitalists like Steve Jobs and Bill Gates? You would not be reading what I'm writing right now. It would be on a legal pad, scrawled out by a cheap Bic pen. I can't "just save up" for medical care because it's been living on government dole for several decades, and now is too fat and lazy to move, and the average American is incapable of paying medical expenses out of pocket.

Very soon, congress will again take up the issue of Socialized Medicine. They want to help us, and I'm reminded of Ronald Reagan's famous quote, "The most terrifying words in the English language are: I'm from the government and I'm here to help." I hope you live long enough to enjoy your new digital converter that Uncle Sam was so nice to subsidize for you. Maybe if this works out, the next presidential candidates in 2012 can guarantee us a "computer in every room," or something like that.

But wait! I've got an even better idea. Why didn't the government send us all messages when they figured this thing out, say, three years ago? They could have said something like, "Dear citizen. In three years, your analog TV will no longer work. That gives you thirty-six months to save up for something that does. If you save $1.50 a month starting now, you will be able to buy a converter. Five dollars will get you a VCR with a digital tuner. If you start saving ten dollars a month now, you can buy a DVD recorder with the works, including a digital tuner, and probably have a little cash left over. Twenty dollars a month will get you HD in addition to the digital. This little 'heads up' is brought to you by your government, which wants you to be smart, sensible, and self-sufficient. Don't come crying to us in February of 2009."

Of course, if they did that, people would actually start getting smarter and more self-sufficient, and they might become producers instead of consumers and then more "red" people would get elected, so you see their dilemma. It might even affect the medical industry. I know it's hard. I was even temporarily "blue" this week (If this red/blue thing seems strange to you, please click here for my explanation).

I'm sorry, but are we really stupid enough to think that the US Government can be Marcus Welby?

Consolidarity: The Sequel

[Note: This article is a follow-up to a previously published article that can be found at below -- "Consolidarity."]
I went to see my friend Johnny last night. He's been my friend for seven years. Johnny was, I think, a victim of multiple sclerosis. He was always in his wheelchair, and it was difficult for him to present a hand to shake, but I soon found he did not like a pat on the shoulder. So I waited for the hand. He had a special name he called me -- one that no one else used. He also had one for my wife. Johnny liked to sing when I came to visit him. No one could understand the words, except, maybe, him. His conversation was fully understandable, but his singing; well, nobody liked his singing, except maybe me. Some of the other residents of the nursing home would clap their hands over their ears and tell him to be quiet, but he just kept smiling and singing.

Johnny loved the Dallas Cowboys, and rooted for them through thick and thin. He could tolerate their repulsive owner, and he forgave them for putting T.O. on their team, something that I cannot bring myself to do. Johnny was one of the best fans the Cowboys have ever had. He was devastated by their loss to the Giants.

Why am I talking in the past tense? Because I went to visit Johnny at the funeral home last night. Instead of a suit and tie, they had dressed him in his Dallas Cowboys shirt, with Tony Romo's name and #9 on it, and wearing his warm-ups. It was totally appropriate, and I appreciate his family knowing him well enough to dress him that way.

Johnny was not killed by anyone. He was not a victim of foul play. He was only a "result" of a business decision. Since they "consolidated" our local nursing home with the big one in the nearest town, three of my friends have died. The move, combined with poor health, was too much for them. I don't really hold anyone liable. Johnny never really recovered after the Cowboys' loss, so I would have to blame Tony Romo as well.

But I cannot shake the idea that Johnny would still be around if he had not been so suddenly uprooted with absolutely no advance notice. Yes, I know that things like this often have to happen, but to the most vulnerable in our society, do they have to happen so fast? Johnny is a representative of what can happen to all of us. You're sitting at your desk, at a job you like (or tolerate), and saving up for retirement in, say, 10 years, when one day, your boss comes in and says, "You've done a great job, but we've just been bought out, and the parent company is downsizing." You find you have a week to start looking for a new job. At least you will probably get a severance or a "buy out."

Johnny didn't. He just got moved. Right in the middle of a serious bout with a cold or flu virus. From his home for the last (at least) 7 years, to a hospital, and then to another room he had never been in. He had to die in a strange room. With an unknown roommate (a space-saving, cost-saving move, I might add). His last roommate had been his mother, who died four years ago.

So Johnny got consolidated, along with about 30 others, and at least three have already died. I used to do a little gardening, and I know what a transplant can do to a young, tender plant. You have to shelter them from the sun and elements for a while, give them extra care, and even then, you'll lose a few. I'm amazed at how many are being displaced by "productive fiscal decisions" in our own culture.

Years ago, when I was in graduate school, I worked my way through it by being an imported food vendor. I serviced a major grocery chain. The stores had a "Midas" touch -- through great marketing and "location, location, location," they grew. Thousands worked for them. I was surprised when, suddenly, in the early 1990's, they were just -- gone.

What caused their demise? Incompetence? No. Change in demographics? Economic downturns? None of that. They were merely "bought," or absorbed, by a wealthy corporation, then they were stripped of their assets, and the rest was sold off. I don't know what happened to the friends I had made during that time, who were working their way up in a productive, promising corporation. The stores were great, but consolidation ransacked them. Somebody made billions of dollars, but we all lost in the long run.

I don't think the huge conglomerate that bought all of these nursing homes made "billions," but they did cut costs, and probably were able to "downsize" a little. I also found out yesterday that the four or five in the old nursing home that did not get out within the weeks' time they were given had no heat in the place after the eviction date. Somehow, I thought "care" centers could do better than that.

Johnny will be buried today some time after 2:00. He looked great just three weeks ago, the last time I shook his hand and we talked about the Cowboys and the Super Bowl. At least I have the assurance of his burial in a traditional cemetery. I recently attended the funerals of an aunt and uncle who were buried in a "consolidated" one. He is eight or nine feet below ground; she is six feet. They don't take up much space in that cemetery; they don't bother too many people, and they serve a "cost effective" purpose. And isn't that why we all love consolidation so much?

Consolidarity

It was just a little thing: a little nursing home composed of little people in a little town -- definitely not nearly as important as Britney whats-her-name's latest journey into rehab that made the news above the Middle East last week.

But it was important to those it affected. In a little town near where I live, with a little nursing home that used to be a little hospital, filled with little people who used to be housewives, school teachers, farmers, salesmen, writers, carpenters, and blacksmiths, something happened. Those former people are now line items of government funding that pays salaries of medical workers who give them their medicines, turn them in their beds, and occasionally give them a bath or take them to the restroom.

I've been amazed at the life that was still there when someone took the time to sit with them for a while and just listen. That little nursing home was only half full of patients. They had even converted most of the empty rooms to office space, maintenance headquarters, and storage rooms -- oh, yes, and a break room with coke machines and tables where the residents, who pay more daily than they would for an ocean cruise, were forbidden to enter unless lucky enough to be pushed in there by someone of my size and relative influence.

I felt at home there. I could sit in the living room with them, or go to their personal rooms and sit with them. I would hold my breath for the occasional waft of detergent and urine smell that I somehow think could have been removed. Sometimes I would go down to the dining room, pour myself a cup of coffee, and converse with them as they played dominoes or just sat and visited.

Then, the same week as Christmas, they were told that they all had to be out in the next 7 days. But it was okay. The big parent company that owns several nursing homes and knows how to soak them for the maximum in government money, was going to safely move them to the bigger home in the bigger nearby city.

I went there last week, looking for them. I found a few, though many were just names on the door. They are not there -- still in transit somewhere. The old place has yellow tape around it and stock trailers moving out furniture and equipment. The few I found smiled as they recognized me. I tried to visit with one of them in the lobby, but it was hard to do. It was too noisy. They had wheeled several older ones to watch the Cartoon Network, featuring "Spongebob Squarepants" and some act of violence against a Fred Flintstone lookalike. I wondered if anybody even cared whether these old people were being cared for.

The highly efficient staff asked me at least five times, "Can I help you, sir?" The translation, of course, is "You are not needed here." I wheeled one of my friends through the hallway. He wanted to see if there was a new place he could look out the window and see the occasional truck pass by like he used to do. I was checking the tags on the doors, trying to find my old friends. I was told at least three times that my friend "belonged" in the other wing. I stopped trying to explain. I really felt out of place in this geriatric processing unit.

I couldn't pour myself a cup of coffee in this place. I still haven't found a soda machine so I can slip one of my friends a forbidden Dr. Pepper before I leave. And I grieve one more piece of my life being cut off and thrown away.

Of course, it's for our own good. It's called "consolidation," which means sweeping up little things into bigger piles for easier disposal. Fifty years ago, we did it for our schools, to make education better. Of course, the people who could send us to the moon and back grew up in "pre-consolidated" schools. Consolidated schools teach about diversity and condom usage, and we wonder why things are not as good as they "used to be."

The nursing home building in the old place was actually a hospital that was built by a doctor in that small town so many years ago. It's easy to tell, because his old house was across the street, and when I sat on the front porch, sunning myself with my elderly friends, I would admire the construction of the old two-story house, built from the same stones. The doctor lived across the street because he wanted to be near his work. Of course, they had to shut that hospital down a generation ago and sent patients to hospitals twenty miles away, where they are now sent by helicopter to even bigger hospitals 200-300 miles away to get "quality" medical care.

We have been "consolidated" to absurdity. Buy a pencil, and it comes from a corporate warehouse in a big city that imported it from China. Remember when you could buy a food item, and it was the only thing the company made? Now it's a product from a division that's a subdivision of another entity which in turn belongs to another corporation with a hyphenated name. Everything you eat and drink, or take as medication, can be traced back to two or three worldwide mega-corporations who have never heard of you or the town you live in.

Now they are processing people. The day they closed the local nursing home, they also combined the only two in my old hometown. It seems the same corporation owned them, too. They did some type of consolidation that drove down costs while maintaining profit.

By the way, the bigger nursing home in the bigger town has a nice, corporate, enhanced soap-and-urine smell that way outdoes the old one.

Why consolidation? It's easier to control, it's less personal so you don't get mixed up with actual people, and it's way more profitable. And it's killed community hospitals, elderly care, small town schools, mom and pop operations, and ultimately, us!

Of course, our government has consolidated, too. States are no longer states, but administrative districts of an ever-increasing federal government. It's all around us. What can I do about it? First, call on all of us to maintain some form of individuality, to fiercely refuse to be labeled by the "consolidators," and to walk away from the hometown bank when the big corporation buys it -- at least until we don't have a choice; to pay a higher price when something says "Made in USA," and to tell your doctor you don't need another test somewhere else -- that the reason you came to your hometown clinic is because this is where you live.

I wonder if I'll ever spend another tranquil day with my elderly friends. They don't last too long, anyway, but I could always find new ones in my hometown nursing home. Now I will have to find new ways to acquaint myself with them -- after they clear processing, and before they are taken away to the showers.

I Am Guilty as Charged!

There has been an irreversible change in the American economic system, and I am one of the guilty ones who effected this change. I have no excuse; I should have known better. It all began when I was in high school, and the new “discount center” came to my home town. Back in those days, the discount centers were on the square, just like all the other businesses. That wouldn’t last long, though. I remember the amazing discovery: my nineteen cent Bic pen, which could be purchased in any store on the square, was only sixteen cents in the discount store. I soon was passing by the other stores so I could save the three cents every time I needed a new pen.

Then the discount store moved. When it did, we moved with it. For three cents, I would go an extra two miles, to the main highway, where the new discount store was located. Understand, the local merchants were not gouging me. Bic had made a fortune with its nineteen cent pen (though there was also a 29 cent one that we sometimes splurged and bought). Now, since I was already two miles from downtown, I went ahead and made other purchases there. After all, the discount center had all sorts of things under one roof, even some groceries.

I didn’t understand at first why some of the local businesses on the square were going under. I supposed that the owners had reached retirement age, and just got tired of working. After a few years, our city square was composed of empty buildings, as well as some city offices, an occasional specialty shop, and some short-lived restaurants. Finally, the drug store and the Western Auto went under; after all, the discount store had all of those things anyway, and I could save three to five cents on a purchase.

Of course, we know now what happened. The discount store would order huge quantities of an item, and hold them at a large warehouse. Mr. Browning, however, due to the low volume of local sales, had to pay regular wholesale. Of course, his products were usually fresher (some of my “discount” Bic pens didn’t do as well as others, but after all, I was saving money).

The advent of “discount stores” brought a proliferation of similar businesses, and soon we had a choice. Now they all built out on the main highway, sometimes beyond the city sales tax boundaries. Then the super brand name stores (you know which ones) cornered the market. Oh, well, I will mention one out of necessity. When Arkansas businessman Sam Walton set up the first Wal-Marts, he furiously guarded quality. By then Bic pens cost more, but he could save us more. He also was appreciated for the jobs he brought to the US. I remember him in his own commercials, proud of the “Made in the USA” signs. Whole cities had their economies revitalized as he purchased huge quantities of bicycles, sports equipment, clothing, and other items from Smalltown, USA. Everybody was so happy that they didn’t even care that the city squares were now ghost towns. After all there were plenty of jobs in Wal-Mart and in its suppliers.

We might not have ever noticed if Sam Walton had lived forever. Though I’m not sure of the exact figures, Mr. Walton was worth between 6 and 8 billion dollars when he died, enough to pay for a decent funeral for a respected Arkansas entrepreneur. The last time I checked, however, some of his descendants/heirs were worth 15 to 20 billion and more – several of them, in fact. How did that happen? The truth is, Mr. Walton left them a magnificent network of trustworthy, efficient stores full of, for the most part, energetic and happy employees (“associates,” they are called). The temptation was just too great. Sam’s machinery was capable of much more. Since his death, Wal-Mart has slowly closed those American factories. You can do the math. You keep the same clientele, buying at least the same amount of merchandise, but you find a place that can do it cheaper. China was ready for that. For many years, it seemed like a win/win situation (except for the Smalltown USA factory workers, but life is tough, eh?)

We didn’t notice the creeping uniformity, the lowering of standards. After all, if a VCR breaks, it would have cost 50 bucks to fix it on the square in the old days. Wal-Mart has one for 60, and it’s brand new! I’ve often wondered where TV’s, VCR’s, and DVD’s now go when they die.

Years ago, if Mr. Browning’s store on the square didn’t have what I needed, or the size and color I wanted, I just went to the west side, and Mrs. Collins had it. Now, you can go to the Wal-Mart in central California and you will find the same merchandise, at the same price, that is on the racks of the Wal-Mart in West Virginia. And if you want “Made in America,” you’re probably out of luck.

Try to find a toy not made in China. While you’re at it, try to find one that will last from one Christmas to the next. I’ve watched the disappointment on the faces of my children as toys and gifts bought with hard-earned money broke within a few hours out of the box. We’ve taken advantage of Wal-Mart’s generous exchange policy, but were disappointed to find that the quality of the replacement toys was the same.

Now we’re finding out that everything from tires to dog food is coming to us from China. People and animals are dying because there’s no way anyone can control the quality of the cheap merchandise that is now the norm. The NTSB has no authority over the quality of a Chinese tire, and most Americans do not know they have one until their car has been totaled. We’re in a bind because we’ve dismantled the base of our manufacturing in the USA. If China suddenly cut off supply, we Americans would be unable to make a television or a toy or anything between. We are pouring trillions of dollars into the most populous nation on earth, who in turn is buying the choice real estate, investing in the space program, and buying up the best building materials. They, for all practical purposes, own the Panama Canal. They have been trying to buy interest in our oil companies and automobile manufacturers. Who can blame them? They have to spend the money somewhere, and the ones in power don’t want to waste it on the care of their own people.

We are at their mercy. And we are at Wal-Mart’s mercy. If Wal-Mart doesn’t have it, no one else will (in some places, because there no longer is anyone else). China and Wal-Mart set the trends for fashion (try to buy a dress for a teenage girl – it’s impossible), quality, and service. You can’t.

And who’s to blame? I am! It started when I wanted to save three cents on a Bic pen.