James Pyle – Author

August 25, 2015

Jimmy Carter, our 39th president, has announced he suffers from cancer and will limit his travels and undergo treatment.

President Carter is ninety years old and deserving of some of the accolades that are now pouring from former associates and the liberal media. He deserves respect and some of the tributes. He is no doubt a good man, a virtuous man, a religious man, a  good family man.

But let’s not get carried away – he was not a good president.

During his four year-term he created the Department of Education and the Energy Department ; arguably the most deleterious arms of the Executive Branch. Neither has ever accomplished its mission despite FY 2016 budgets of $77.4 billion and $29.9 billion respectively. Each is a bureaucratic mosh pit filled with incompetence. Neither can point to any sustainable accomplishments.

Carter handed over the Panama Canal (built at a cost of $375 Million in 1915 dollars) to Panamanian politicos who sold the management rights  and control of ports at both entrances to a Communist Chinese company, Hutchinson -Whampoa.  What was Carter thinking? Our ships now pay China for ‘safe passage’ through a ditch Americans dug and paid for.

He bungled the rescue attempts of Americans being held at our embassy in Iran by refusing to send in the required forces. The result was Iran withdrew its oil from world markets leading to the 1973 gasoline crises in America and elsewhere.  During Reagan’s first  week in office the 1- 1/2  year crisis was ended and the hostages were released.

He imposed limits on gifts and financial disclosures on public officials and appointees.  Right!  How’d that work out?

All of this damage in only four years.

Let’s hope he lives long enough to rid the African continent of Guinea Worm and that his Habitats for Humanity remain viable homes for disadvantaged folks , not slums.

That would be a legacy.

You are welcome.

August 24, 2015

Billions have been spent (some would argue wasted) over the past twenty years in  attempting to provide an education for America’s disadvantaged youth.

One of the most recent examples occurred in 2010 when Facebook’s founder, Mark Zuckerberg, pledged $100 million to the City of Newark, NJ, in a highly touted effort to reform  the city’s failing public schools. The event was marked by press conferences with Newark Mayor (now Senator) Cory Booker and Governor Chris Christie. Despite the political bloviating, the effort failed.

Why?  A blue ribbon commission consisting of big donors to Booker’s senate race was appointed to administer Zuckerberg’s gift but succeeded only in paying off a coterie of political insiders, all well connected to Booker or Christie, acting as consultants and receiving up to $1,000/day in fees.

Discouraged, Zuckerberg pulled out of Newark and pledged another $120 million to under-served students in the Bay Area. This fund will, according to press releases, include teachers and parents in the decision making apparatus.  A key component of this latest grant includes a network of support for students needing mental or physical health care but who cannot expect help from parents or minority community leaders.

One can only hope Mr. Zuckerberg succeeds in the education minefield  where other captains of industry have failed:  I recall David Kearns of Xerox and John Akers of IBM in particular.

Too many of today’s kids are deluged with opportunities for fun and games in lieu of learning. Murder, mayhem and exploding cars permeate video games and movies. Denigration of women, police and anyone in authority are typical subjects of rap music. Sports stars who rape, kill and do drugs are deemed heroes. Disrespect me at your peril is the motto of today’s inner city youths.  Where are the adults of this world when their kids need them?

The next generation of well intentioned advisors should insist that a mandatory course titled: Individual Responsibility be a pre-condition of their bequests.

In thinking about this posting I remembered Robert Frost’s famous poem: The Road Not Taken. I can imagine signposts at Mr. Frost’s divergent paths: one labeled, Come this way and be enlightened; the other labeled, go that way and be entertained.

A good motto to emblazon on the door to every school in America.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

August 22, 2015

A DOG’S TALE – OF LOVE

Several years ago, I caught a performance by George Carlin, the stand-up comedian.  In one segment of his act he riffed on dogs. “You’ve heard the phrase: Working like a dog?” he smirked. “Anybody ever see a dog working?” We all laughed. “They lay around all day licking themselves, waiting for somebody to feed them. They don’t work! Unless, of course, they run in the Iditarod.” The audience laughed and applauded, then we all went home to feed our respective dogs. I thought no more of that evening until recently. Having had a fortunate up-bringing there was always a dog around our house. They were as ubiquitous as wallpaper. I can’t even remember not having a dog. They were just always there. Some were strays we picked up, others were offspring of a neighbor’s bitch; one or two may have been purchased but I can’t be sure. They were all mongrels, we called them mutts. Since we always lived in a rural or semi-rural area, the dogs roamed free and never knew a leash. They seemed happy: chasing rabbits or squirrels, swimming in the nearby stream or occasionally snarling at a neighbor’s pet. Our dogs never seemed to die. When they aged they just went away. There one day, gone the next. My dad explained this was the canine way, dating back to their ancestral wolves. Nature took care of the funerals.

Then, into my adult life came Hagan – a tiny ball of golden fur nestled in one of my wife’s wicker baskets and named for a brutish football player from her youth. Bred on Long Island by a famous breeder of Golden Retrievers, he was the cutest thing ever – an instant favorite among our nuclear family of eight.

A brainiac he was not. Bumbling might be a better descriptor. He knew only one trick but quickly learned to obey commands, like: sit, come and stay. He was affectionate to a fault and never mistaken for a guard dog. One day our home was burglarized. He welcomed the intruder who must have been hungry judging by the mess left in the refrigerator. Hagan apparently joined him in a meal of left-over casserole because tell tale leftovers remained in the dog dish. He probably wished our intrepid intruder well when the thief departed with two computers, my wife’s jewelry and a minor amount of cash.

Hagan loved to travel, whether by car, boat or plane. He was a big hit with the Eagle/Vail airport baggage handlers in Colorado where we had a ski house. He willingly entered his airline cage for each trip knowing there was a treat waiting at the other end.

My wife schooled him in game-bird retrieving at the breeder’s facility. On one of our Colorado trips I took him on a grouse hunt with a neighbor and his dog. When the first bird went down, Hagan leaped into the truck and hid under the dashboard. He was a lover, not a hunter/gatherer. That same night he woke us at 3:00 a.m. barking furiously. In the back yard a herd of elk was casually dining on the grass. He desperately wanted to join them. Running through the woods, hiking mountain trails and swimming in cold mountain streams were clearly his forte.

He never liked the vet. We literally carried him through the door whenever it was time for a check-up or medical issue. This may have stemmed from the time he cut his paw on a broken glass and required surgery. Something about the smell of the clinic drove him into a nervous convulsion. He was also neutered at an early age which probably bothered me more than him. We never castrated our dogs when I was a kid and the thought sent a chill down my spine. Hagan never complained but I always suspected he carried a grudge.

Despite the best organic dog food, supplemented by years of table food purloined from the kids (and me), age caught up with him. At age eleven (eighty two in human terms) he began to decline rapidly. His eyesight failed, his balance faltered and he couldn’t hear. It was time to put him down. We no longer lived in the boondocks so allowing him to wander off was not an option.

The obvious, and most sensible, alternative was to have the vet put him to sleep. Remembering his deep seated aversion to the clinic I didn’t want his last remembrance of the world to be one of fear. So I did the unthinkable. Without telling the kids or my wife, I took him for his last long walk in the woods.

It was early on a bright Sunday morning in the fall. I carried his favorite sleeping rug and lifted him into the car. His head no longer poked out the window but his nose pointed up sniffing the air. Our destination was a nature preserve surrounding a reservoir owned by the local water company.

Leaving the car, I removed his collar and scratched his neck – a gesture he always enjoyed. He turned and licked my hand. I believe he knew and was telling me: It’s okay. We began our lonesome walk. A half mile into the woods I found a grassy hollow at the base of an old stone wall. I knelt beside him as he lay down, head on the grass between his paws, questioning eyes looking up – a favorite position.

One shot. A single whimper and slight tremor, then the world became quiet. After checking that he was indeed gone, I covered him with the rug and numerous large stones to deter curious animals.

I returned to the car with tears streaming down my face, still carrying his collar. I knew then: George Carlin was wrong. Dogs do perform work. Hagan’s work was loving and bringing joy to those around him – and he was damned good at it.

Yesterday, I met a new BFF. His name is Patrick. He is seven years old and soon to enter second grade.  At the time of our meeting I was engrossed in the final round of the British Open from St. Andrews which concluded with a play-off.  I asked Patrick if his father played golf. “No,” he said. “He’s a carpenter.” Fair enough.

Since I had already interrupted the game he was playing on his iPad I asked if he had any brothers or sisters.  “No, and I don’t want any because I don’t want to share my room with them,” he said without hesitation. Clearly, he had thought this through.  I then asked whether he had posters on the wall in his room.

“Yep. I got a T-Rex, a Nascar racer and a space ship.”

I then asked what he wanted to be when he grew up. (He was too young to be turned off by such repetitive old fogey questions.) “I want to be an astronaut or a race car driver.”  No hesitation.

I pressed on. “How about a doctor or a lawyer?”

“Naaah. Doctors don’t make much money any more and lawyers are boring.”

Wow! . . .  From the mouths of babes.

After Patrick’s mother came to his rescue I reflected on how I responded whenever someone asked the same question during my formative years.  I remember saying:  ‘A ship’s captain’.  (Standing alone on the bridge at night facing a raging gale, issuing orders, exotic ports of call  with a different woman waiting in each, no boss, but a dashing uniform with four bars on the epaulets.)

Ah, the dreams of youth!  I hope with all my heart that Patrick achieves his, but life seldom plays fair. . . So why not have some fun with it?

As one ages, new acquaintances no longer ask:  ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’  They ask: ‘What do you do?’

My gut always wants to say: “None of your f*****g business.”   Years ago, when my wife invited me to meet her wealthy Bronxville, NY family members, one asked the inevitable question. My response: “I’m a piano player,” generated an audible gasp from the dowager hostess.  I was, at the time,  nothing more than a computer salesman.  Such fun watching the reactions.

But the most entertainment I’ve had in years occurred during a friend’s birthday party on Martha’s Vineyard.  (He has more money than the Vatican and imported the Beach Boys to entertain – but that’s another story.)

Around 3:00 a.m., after having consumed enough adult beverage to float the Chappaquiddick ferry, a lovely 30- something slithered up wearing a strapless number that barely reached her knees, introduced herself as Kim and whispered; “And what do you do?”

Without hesitation, I replied:  “I’m a doctor. Known professionally as Doctor Wax. I do bikini waxing.”

“Really?” she said.

My good friend Reginald F. Price III was standing by my side. (Straight from the Great Gatsby) “Yes,” he said. “And he is really good at it. You should see some of his creative designs: heart shapes, octagons , arrows pointing down, anything you want.”

Her only response was: “How much do you charge?”  By dawn’s early light there was a queue extending to the beach.

You are welcome.

The socialist arbiter of ‘All the News Fit to Print’ has done it again!  In today’s NYT Business Section, two headlines screamed from the first page above the fold: Teenagers Missing Out on Summer Jobs  followed immediately by Protests and Progress on Farmworker Wages.

The first article laments that ‘Experts’ are trying (but failing) to figure why there are no jobs for 16 – 19 year olds. Many reasons (excuses) for teens failing to find work are given, but as usual the only solution offered is more government involvement. Chicago is cited as exemplary:  This summer it will employ 24,000 kids in make-work programs designed to keep them off the streets and out of overcrowded jails. It was, and still is, Chicago style corrupt cronyism that killed real jobs for old and young alike.

These kids presumably are not skilled but they are by no means stupid. They will quickly realize that government jobs offer money for showing up but accomplishing little of economic or social value and therefore no incentive for self-improvement. The end result will be a conversion from summer job to full time job in a bureaucratic role that does little more than accelerate socialism’s advance in America.

The second article bemoans the plight of illegal farmworkers. They are demanding more pay and paid vacations. Say what???  They broke the law by illegally entering the country that they now sue for inadequate benefits.  If this doesn’t define insanity, I don’t know what does.  The article continues: ‘With many farmworkers frustrated by low pay and substandard housing – and as more consumers are insisting on food that is produced ethically – innovative movements are sprouting across the country to improve wages and working conditions for America’s more than two million farmworkers.”

One of these innovative movers, calling itself  “Migrant Justice”, is attacking Ben & Jerry’s ice cream factories for not doing more to benefit illegals. Ben & Jerry??  Are you kidding?  This is a company that has done more for social causes than most other corporations combined.  It’s like shooting the singers in your choir.  But then, nobody claims you need common sense to start a revolution – it’s only required if you are to succeed at it.

Here’s some common sense for all you unsatisfied workers:  If you want more pay and paid vacations – return to Guatemala and make your demands there – and on your way out, fire those troublemaking  class action lawyers that claim to represent you but who, in reality care only about the fines they will extract  by hectoring Ben and Jerry.

Happy Independence Day to all you legal citizens who must continue to fight for it every day.

You are welcome.

Obama’s grade:  Strategic Thinker, Good  –   Tactician, Poor

Reflecting on the recent trade bills (TPA & TAA) and the Affordable Care Act has caused me to alter my view of this president. Initially, I dismissed him as hopelessly inept. I now believe he has what George Bush(41)called “The Vision Thing” but he lacks the persuasive powers of implementation.

In the military: Generals do the strategic thinking; Colonels develop tactics to implement the strategy.

In business: The Board of Directors sets the policy; the CEO carries out the plans that accomplish the policy objective(s).

In the Investment world: Venture capitalists or investors claim not to invest in ideas, but in people who can make the idea a reality.

In the above sub-cultures there is seldom confusion about roles or the chain of command.

In politics: a president must set goals and motivate (persuade) Congress to pass legislation to achieve those goals. On Capital Hill there is both confusion and chaos caused by self interest.

President Obama has laid out some worthy goals for the nation and the world, but failed miserably to gain the support needed to: a)get them through Congress; or b)convince other world leaders his ideas have lasting merit and are deserving of serious discussion.

He is seen as:

• Articulate though not persuasive
• Intellectual but Arrogant
• Inattentive/intolerant of others needs
• Not socially attractive, but stand-offish
• Surrounded and advised by sycophants

All of which is unfortunate because he has identified several important social needs that have arisen due to the ever-increasing advance of technology.

Who could disagree with the need to fix the country’s health care industry? Obama’s fix, however, addressed only one aspect of the problem: access to the system by lower income citizens.

Left unchecked by Obamacare are the marauding insurance companies, gluttonous pharmaceutical companies and the piranhas of malpractice lawyers – while doctors, nurses and small hospitals are knocked off one-by-one due to their inability to employ lobbyists. How does it help anyone(poor or rich)if there are no more English speaking doctors and only mega-hospitals located in large cities?

I doubt that was the strategic outcome intended when the program was conceived. It happened because the ‘General’ and the ‘Colonel’ are the same individual (Obama), an inept salesman vulnerable to persuasion and/or paralysis by others’ self interests. The lobbyists and a corrupt Congress cannot be trusted to do what’s best for the nation or the health of its citizens.

The Trade Promotion Authority (TPA) addresses a real need to normalize trade between nations in what is now a global market brought about by the Internet and electronic commerce. Currently there are few, if any laws, to protect companies against fraud and criminal acts in other countries. Sadly, this bill too, has been hijacked by self interests who proclaim their phony desire to protect American workers from displacement by foreigners.

Guess what? It’s too late. They’ve already been displaced and not likely to come back. The latest sleight of hand is an add-on (TAA)of $2.7 Billion for worker retraining. Retraining into what? Hospital workers? And who will do the retraining? More bureaucrats and additional government overhead will consume most of the allocated funds – Anyone remember the Education Department? How’s that working out for you? Common Core anyone?

No. I now believe the problem in not an inept president. He’s doing the right strategic thinking. It is in the implementation where all this good work falls apart. No bill passed in secret in the dark of night can be a good bill. (“You’ll have to pass the bill to see what’s in it.”)

The country has evolved to where we now need a two-person co-presidency. One with a world view who conceives great ideas, the other with a strangle hold on Congress who can get the right job done. It’s too much to expect any future president to be all things to everyone.

I nominate Robert Gates and Donald Trump. Anyone care to sign my petition?

You are welcome.

Just when you thought you’d heard it all, New York’ s Communist Dear Leader, Bill de Blasio, announced another school holiday –  the Asian Lunar New Year.  The new holiday “will allow the city’s Asian families to celebrate an important holiday without tarnishing their attendance records”, the pandering mayor proudly proclaimed. The announcement, also reported on Twitter in Korean and Mandarin, follows two Muslim holy days de Blasio quietly added to the school calendar only three months ago.

The new holiday may be good news for Ryan Seacrest who can now stand one more time atop Times Square while a paper tiger floats down onto Broadway celebrating another Rockin New Years Eve, but  it’s bad news for the city’s children – already among the least educated in the nation. What’s next? Romanian New Year, Bangladeshi New Year or Syrian New Year?

These kids are now Americans. If they wish to celebrate the wonders of their native countries, let them return there to do so. While in this country, presumably enjoying the freedoms and opportunities not available back home, they should celebrate our national holidays – that’s it.

Only in New York? Not so fast – San Francisco already celebrates the Asian New Year.  Let’s contain this lunar lunacy before it’s too late.

You are welcome.

On the day following Donald Trump’s announcement that he’ll run for president, Stephen Colbert commented: “… he looks like they raked his body out of the surf down in Cape May”.

Perhaps… But for all his bombast and satiric hirsuteness, the guy has one defining quality: His willingness to speak truth to power with total disregard for political correctness or the gasps of pundits.

How refreshing is that?

His remarks are tailor-made for Twitter and bumper stickers;  the major avenues of information for the Millennial crowd and those voters who never learned to read.

Compared with the boring crowd of other would-be presidents, he trumpets, with conviction, what many (most?) disillusioned Americans would say if given the soapbox he enjoys. Enough with overly managed candidates who can’t (or won’t) answer a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question!

At this early stage of the election process, his chance of success appears dim, but I can’t wait for the debating season to begin. It will be must see TV; much more fun than another music award show.  If Trump is excluded from the debates, I’ll be leading the charge forward to a revolution.

You are welcome.

To all my loyal followers: I’ve been out of action for several months due to a computer malware installed by Lenovo at their China facility.  (Lost all programs and files.) But, thanks to a talented, trusted friend and web master, I’m baaaack.

June 18, 2015

The new ‘NEW DEAL’

Juxtapositions fascinate me.

CONSIDER: the NY Times reports on Federal Reserve plans to keep the federal funds borrowing rate at zero percent for big banks, while writers on the op-ed page complain that the savings rate among middle Americans is inadequate. (Those same banks pay 0.5% to individuals who contribute to a savings plan while the bank earns billions gambling with public money.);

CONSIDER:  Our Attorney General indicts WalMart for violating the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act because they bribed some low level bureaucrat in Mexico to approve building a store that will save hundreds of pesos per year for low income people (providing better quality food and merchandise than they could otherwise obtain from local sources), while our elected officials  accept millions in campaign contributions  from wealthy individuals and corporations seeking to influence votes on pork-barrel projects to benefit someone’s bottom line.

In any event: I found it humorous to hear this week, during Hillary Clinton’s announcement speech from Roosevelt Island, proclaiming she will help the poor and disadvantaged and rebuild the nation’s infrastructure if only we elect her. The mantra this time around is “income inequality”.  Madame Secretary provides no plan to overcome said inequality and no plan, even a hint of a plan, for accomplishing her infrastructure goals –  all the while standing on a pedestal named for the one president who, in fact, put millions to work and accomplished great things at a time when the economy, jobs and faith in government were at an all time low.  So much for her ‘vision thing’.

I’m talking about Roosevelt’s New Deal, enacted in several parts during the years following the Great Depression, 1933 – 1938. When he took office, twenty five percent of the American population was unemployed. In some cities the rate rose to eighty percent. Roosevelt introduced numerous acts including the Works Progress Administration (WPA) and the Civilian Conservation Corps. (CCC), and perhaps most important, the Glass Steagall Banking Bill saving the nation’s economy until WW II came along and employment, as well as the economy, rebounded. That rebound lasted until ten years ago and buoyed the greatest growth of any nation in world history.

WPA removed thousands of people from welfare rolls and provided meaningful employment and valuable self- worth.  Projects included dams (TVA), highways, bridges and tunnels, all of which fostered the growth of the twentieth century. Men and women were paid a decent wage to do meaningful work – many  or the results are  still apparent today.

CCC employed youthful, industrious but unemployed young men, supervised by military officers, and rebuilt and reforested national parks, created fire breaks and constructed roads in remote regions.

Glass Steagall enabled banks that had closed as a result of the Depression to reopen and instilled a set of banking laws that governed the business of banking and focused on depositors and small businesses.

The lessons of the New Deal have been lost to history. Too bad Hillary never made the connection while she pontificated her personal desires.

In fairness, no Republican has had the cojones (or the vision) to leap into this fray and define a plan to put the country to work once again. Too bad for all of us – the country’s infrastructure needs help.  Our people want to work. Once, FDR pointed the way. In today’s Washington, no one listens to history – they listen only to lobbyists.

You are welcome.