Who Really Increased the National Debt?

When a Weasel has Sex with a Vulture

When a weasel has sex with a vulture, they give birth to a mittnewtrick.  This offspring is a prime example of the 1% that has profited from greedy, underhanded and opaque dirty dealings.  Vanguard founder Jack Bogle has said that we used to  invest in stocks that we believed in instead of speculating and profiting from churning trades every milli-second.  Now look where we are.

We just heard yesterday that Mitt pays a tax rate of only 15% on his multi-million income from not working.  His income is deferred compensation from his days as a private equity trader many moons ago with Bain Capital. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bain_Capital As Monk would say, here’s what happened:   In the 1980s when it was incorporated, his business Bain and Co. Consulting counseled w/ companies on how to run their operations more efficiently.  Nothing wrong with that.  Once they were paid for that service—whether the client took their advice of not—Bain’s job was done. 

However, then the firm weaseled and morphed its way into  vulture capitalistism by adding a separate entity to their corporate identity:  Bain Capital.  In the name of “efficiency,” B.C. began buying up bankrupt companies, selling off assets, and stripping away employees to increase that entity’s stock share.  Bain Capital principal partners took 20% off the top before any other stockholders got a penny.  They then designated this income as capital gains and deferred  distribution as future income.  So instead of paying 35% on this money as regular income, they can pay 15% on it as capital gains.   What a phoney rip-off!!  The lobbyists got Congress to get rid of certain financial firewall laws or create handy new enablers to create this loophole (and others) so that the Harvard and Wharton Biz school brainiacs et al. could invent ever more vulture cap vehicles to drain our economy.  All while stating:  We’re just pursuing the free-market capitalist dream.

When Mitt reveals his income tax records, the public will discover that he’s worth 140 to 250 million and making  over a million a year for not working.  A REAL CAPITALIST WELFARE QUEEN.  And don’t think that Newt G. (Mr. Fannie Mae) and Rick S. ( Mr. K Street earmark lobbyist)  are any better than Mitt.  They were in Congress when the deals were going down which helped facilitate the financial scams by making them legal. 

  As we see our savings and jobs dry up,  we were both furious but Deb got tired of us both calling these rip-off artists “assholes”  and suggested using “weasel” instead.  But today since I’m writing this, I’ll call them assholes.

Dragon Slayer Heroine

Dragon Slayer Heroine

From STEM to STEAM

               Downingtown STEM           to                  STEAM

Before places like Downingtown STEM Academy had their feet firmly planted in the ground and had become the well-oiled machine that their creators imagined, along comes STEAM to blows its roof off—literally and figuratively.  The STEM Academy will be adding on a separate wing for the arts.   While STEM stands for Science Technology Engineering and Math, the new concept is STEAM which adds an A(art) to STEM to become Science Technology Engineering Arts and Math.  The reasoning behind this new and improved concept is that there is Art in every Science and Science in every Art.

The old Downingtown High School has become the new Downingtown STEM Academy.  It has been tricked out in  state-of-the art technology and has become a magnet for the entire Downingtown district because they hold a lottery for all  students across the district who qualify to get in.  Of course lottery or not there’d have to be slots saved for the extraordinaries like the  Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Mark Zuckerbergs, and Stephen Hawkings («who just turned age 70, mindbending!).  But this isn’t entirely new.  The old Downingtown H.S. and my old high school Scott in Coatesville, were all tricked out in the best of the time and also had a slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am arts/cutlure department.  Scott had one whole wing that was just for shop and drafting.  Another wing for gym and a beautiful acoustically sharp auditorium.  And the college prep students had the run of the entire place, so we had access to the best arts and technology.

You go Stephen!

Speaking art and technology,  Mr. Hawking has done more with his mind than most of us put together with our whole bodies by overcoming a crippling disease that usually kills early.

Speaking of art and technology in the movies, we saw the social network recently.  Even though Mark Zuckerberg plays a very edgy and seemingly unkind person, he managed with his single-minded programming and hacking genuis  to be one step ahead of everyone else,  like Jobs and Gates, et al. before them.  They know the value of hiring and utilizing great minds and creative juices.  Art Works. 

(Thanks for reading, I was just letting off a big STEAM)

Occupy eARTh - 6/19/12 in Wagontown

Come Occupy eARTh on May  19th, 2012 from 1 to 5pm at eARTh —the Kates/Layton art center.

This idea is an inspiration mash-up inspired by…

The Occupy Wall St. Movement,

The flashmobs and pop-ups of now

The T.E.D. Movement*

The United States of Mind dialogues we performed in the ’90s

Fringe Festival

Burning Man

The 2oth Century Movements of free speech, anti-war, civil rights, human rights, gay rights, women’s rights, labor rights

Be-ins of the ’60s

The Soapboxes of London’s Hyde Park

The Center Square of William Penn’s vision

IT’S A FREE-FOR-ALL FLEA MARKET OF IDEAS SO PICK YOUR ATTITUDE AND COME!

Plenty of parking, birds, flowers, sports, reservoir, wind in the trees, sculptures, vegetables, views.

Come to talk, exchange, relax, think, network, sell, walk, listen.

Bring your wares to sell, instruments, art, art supplies, food, good spirits, chairs and easy-ups.

Postscript.  The Occupy Movement is  23% under age twenty-five; 44% ages twenty five to forty-four; 32% over age forty-five.  It is 70% independent; 27% Democrat; 3% Republican«< hey, way to go you courageous 3 percenter  Republicans!!

When it comes to Occupy Wall St., where you sit is where you stand.  Not all 1 percenters are against the OWS movement.  Not all  99 percenters are with OWS.   Piers Morgan interviewed Michael Moore on CNN and asked  him if —since he was a multi-millionaire—he saw himself as one of the 1%.   Moore, in shock , denied it.  So it’s not the $$, it’s the attitude. 

Moore inspired the Occupy movement—he was a mid-wife—putting his own well being on the line through his movies and a TV show (“TV Nation”) that took on the greediest power hoarders,  to get out the word that something was not working for the majority of us.   And Deb and I feel the same way:  Mid-wives.  Vindicated for all the talking, writing, blogging, listening, arguing.  People confuse us as being part of both the 99% and the 1%.  Maybe we’re just the Beverly Hillbillies, Wagontown Style!

*(technology, entertainment, design)

A Tale of Two Steel Towns

This past weekend, we attended two diverse small town events that really imparted the flavor of each place.  On Saturday night, we accepted an invitation from longtime community organizer and main street manager Barry Cassidy, to watch the festival from his office just adjacent to the Firebird site. This is the 8th year of this unique event, which  refers to the mythical phoenix that was destroyed by fire in flight and rose from the ashes to fly again.  Which symbolizes the rise again of the borough of Phoenixville after its fall when its steel industry got outsourced.  A group of local artists conceived and initiated the event and it has grown in popularity ever since.  A real boon to this struggling town in the middle of winter.  We intentionally went early to meet and talk to the participants and to involve them in future C3A programming for 2012 to bring some of that magic back to the Coatesville area.  Met some talented nice people too. 

It was totally worth the effort.  From the art vendors to the firebreather, eaters and twirlers to the popup galleries to the other cool shops to the featherhead-dressed/stick dancers boogying in front of the Colonial Theatre (P-Ville’s artistic lynchpin that got the town reno on its way) to the live music everywhere to our intimate, inexpensive little dinner at one of the small eateries.  So by the time it got dark, we were ready to party at Barry’s shindig and have a ringside seat to watch the burning.  Heated.  With bathrooms.  Yeah!    We didn’t know what to expect but ended up meeting some movers and shakers of Phoenixville who are believers in the arts as a means for dynamic economic development.  Same as we and C3A  so it was a great meeting of the creative entrepreneurial  minds.  It was a great time.

watch it burn at link below!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EuctUfiQSZk&context=C2c932ADOEgsToPDskK-5FDIIT20TOltst3O6De8

The office building is owned by Manny DeMutis, who has purchased a lot of property in the town.  He has in the works a major mixed use development plan for the 23-acre steel foundry site which will be a game-changer, and hopefully add enough parking to mitigate local parking wars. Also a developer who bought an old factory and redeveloped it into  Franklin Commons —an arts/ entertainment/food/schools/small biz incubator.  We continue to be impressed by and excited for the future of Phoenixville.  also got a chance to catch up with our old buddy Dave Fiorenza, educator, musician and community activist who helped get the Kennett Flash off the ground.  Also performed at many of C3A’s Grounds for Music fests w/ partner Wayne Dowlin.

So all this positive artistic ferment—with total support of the business and government community—is a virtual blueprint for the future of Coatesville to add to its plans for the velodrome and train station rehab.  We were glad to hear that Barry Cassidy announced that he’s running for state rep for the newly created 45th legislative district that will encompass Coatesville, Modena, Caln, East Caln, Downingtown, East Fallowfield, Valley and Sadsburyville.  Barry, once Downingtown’s main st. manager, lives there and says he has an entire corridor development plan for our area and from looking at his track record, we don’t doubt him. For more about Barry and his successes:  http://coatesvilledems.blogspot.com/2011/12/45th-legislative-district.html

Then on Sunday we attended a Christmas concert by the famed Coatesville Meistersingers to watch Amanda Gritz,  our favorite neighbor whom we’ve known since she was 3.  Since long before Greg attended Coatesville H.S. just a few years ago, har har, the group has been an elite and very hard to make the cut.  So we were were impressed w/ Amanda getting in.  It was a sweet thing, pretty decorations and the singing was sublime to a packed house.  A highlight was a combined Hallelujah Chorus sung by Meistersinger alums .  You could close your eyes and think you were listening to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.  Kudos to the director and the singers for a great job on all the songs.  We sat w/ Amanda’s Dad Mark and couldn’t wait to congrats her after wards.  It showed the best side of the creative side of the Coatesville schools and community and busts down the stereotypes people are so fond of throwing Coatesville’s way.  Made us proud to live here.  More power to the creators—it’s the real spirit of  Christmas.

Coatesville Christmas Parade, 2011

We volunteered for the parade this year, helping the C’ville policeman on a sequeway —who got good-naturedly teased all day as “mall cop”  direct traffic at the end of the route.  It was a front row seat and a great time.  Deb loved her stylin’ holiday-themed striped vest, getting hugged by the Phillie Phanatic, digging on the cheerleader and dance routines, and chattin’ with Chewbaca (Chewie to me).    Greg loved getting kissed and hugged by the Phanatic,  seeing all the great entertainment including the Red Raiders Marching Band and cheerleaders, which was being judge just down the way from where we were stationed.  We saw the marvelous Meistersingers do a sweet job, and it all made us proud to be from Coatesville.  Such a diverse group of people live in this area.  It really IS a city.

Other nifty items:  Old cars and cycles, A  monster monster truck, mummers whose costumes looked so much more beautiful and glittery in the sparkling sun live than on the tube in January.   Interesting hand-made floats, heartbeaking scenes that gave us a tear or two, kids having a blast, little ballet stars  throwing in funk moves and hip hop steps in their tutus.  The excitement of the crowd lining the pavement was a unifying theme.  Everyone got along and were friendly.  Thanks to Greg DiPedro, Sue Young, and esp. Karol Collins who got us involved. Also the West End Fire Hall for their hospitality.   What a complex event to put together.  Great job everyone! 

Photo credit shout-outs to Karol Collins, and that photogenic artist-about-town, Dave Eastburn.

Occupy Philly Moves on to Greener Grassroots

Greg and I had a business trip to Center City on Monday, the day after the  supposed deadline for Occupy Philly to vacate the Dilworth Plaza.   The police had used restraint (vs. bringing out the pepper spray brigade as in CA).  A group had already packed up and left, but there were still a good number of  people, tents, and signs around (love the signs—thought provoking, funny, nasty, artistic - the gamut), so we walked over to get the latest—our second visit to O.P. in two months. A young woman by the medical tent told us  that one of their primary concerns was fate of the homeless.  After 3 months of living with them, helping to feed them,  and brainstorming with them (most of whom  were the original inhabitants of the plaza) , the Occupy people wanted to be sure they were taken care of before the police moved in.  And the good news is that all the homeless had been moved into other living quarters.  She didn’t know when the police would make their final move, but things had been relatively harmonious.  Several signs indicated that there were some who would not leave when the time came, and therefore would be arrested.  And we passed a guy building an ark or a fort  or an art installation out of skids, we think attempting to rival the clothes pin sculpture just across the street.  But really indicating he wouldn’t go easily.  As you know, there were about 40 were arrested “peacefully and without injury” to quote Police Chief Ramsey. Kudos to Ramsey and the Philadelphia police and their brotherly love approach.

Now one chapter has ended—pretty great consciousness and awareness raising for a group claiming that “everybody’s a leader.” And a new chapter begins.  Now’s the time for the real work to begin:  Grassroots organizing and election funding reform  to make the Occupy doctrine of less greed and more inclusion and justice a reality.  How will they fare? How will we all fare?  Because answers are tough, noting a quote we saw in The Inquirer over the holiday:

We  write our blessings in the sand, and we engrave our complaints in marble.

P.S. On a hometown Coatesville note, did anyone see Coatesville native and world champion skater Johnny Weir, riding in the Macy’s Parade on his own blindingly white and flamboyant float called the “Monarch of The Parade?”  We met him years ago and you couldn’t ask for a nicer or more humble guy.

Penn State + Coatesville = Grief

What the heck does the Penn State sex scandal have to do with Coatesville?   Penn State has been a very successful and well-off system.  Coatesville—my hometown— is this poor, down on its luck city.  The link between the two places is that they both afford their sports programs a cult-like status.  State-of-the-art facilities at the expense of academics.  In Coatesville, there is lots of support for a Sports Hall of Fame.  There is no Scholars Hall of Fame.  If there were, you wouldn’t have enough space to include all the successful smart people who went through Coatesville school system. 

My family were a bunch of serious athletes.  That includes my Dad (Lansdowne High, Drexel U.) and me and my 3 brothers (Coatesville, various colleges).  Even my Mom as a girl played tackle football w/ the boys in Windber coal country until she got older and the boys were grabbing at her for the wrong reasons.

The grief that I’m about to unfold was unleashed by the sex abuse scandal detailed everywhere in the media that has tainted PSU football and academics—even reaching the university board of directors.

My favorite sport had always been basketball, though I played others too.   For my entire younger life, my brothers and I had tons of fun playing all the sports at home together, sometimes w/ my parents.  I was so proud that I made the junior varsity basketball team at Scott High School,  a program that from a young age I had seen kicking butt in the Ches-Mont League and beyond.  I was always a great b-ball player.  So even though I couldn’t palm the ball, dunk, or dribble circles around people, I knew how to play smart and became one of the top scorers and rebounders on our excellent JV team— made up of people I’d played with or against for years.  So I liked the JV team and our coach—we all got along. 

So it was just plain creepy when, coming home from a pre-season game in Norristown —JVs up front  and Varsity in back, I started hearing people screaming and yelling—seemingly in pain— from the (dark) back of the bus.    There would be a pause in the screams, and then the whole scenario would start up again.  But because there was a lot of “horsing around”—you know, boys will be boys— on these trips, so I tried to not let my paranoia rule.   Meanwhile, the varsity coach and JV coach were sitting together in the very front of the bus.  These guys were usually on top of everything.   Yet I watched them act like  nothing was going on and not even turn around.   Talk about disjointed and disorienting!  Sitting across the aisle from me was my good friend B. who I hung out with and played a lot of sports with.  He grew up right near me on Kings Highway and was the nephew of a well known local industrialist.  And he looked as scared as me—neither of us would look back to see the source of all this chaos and upset. 

A bunch of varsity players came up from the back of the bus, grabbed B. and dragged him back with them.  And suddenly the noise started up again and the whole scene just getting uglier and uglier.  Meanwhile, still no acknowledgment from the front, including the bus driver, that anything was wrong.  B. came back to his seat all messed up looking.  Then a bunch of big  guys came and dragged me out of my seat, pushed me face down onto the back seat and pulled my pants down.  That was humiliating enough, since nobody had ever violated my physical privacy that way.  But then, with a guy holding each limb, they proceeded with great glee to whip my bare butt with belts and belt buckles for what seemed like an eternity. When they were done with me,  I pulled my pants back up and limped back to my seat like a beaten dog.  Which in reality I was.   In my house, we never would think to  treat even an animal this.  I was filled with fear and shame,  and a feeling of betrayal from all these people who were a part of  a supposed “team” and whom I respected.  When I got home I took my clothes off and there were welts and cuts all on my behind and blood all over my underwear. I buried it deep in the laundry hamper, trying to hide the evidence from my Mom because sShe was the boss of the home front and didn’t miss a trick. 

I came home from school the next day and my Mom gave me a look I’d never seen before.  Here, she’d discovered the bloody underwear.  Since I was only 15, to have to expose such an embarrassing and vulnerable thing to my own mother at such at awkward age made me feel even worse.  My Dad and Mom were caring, loving and protective parents.  My Dad at the time was on the school board,and a longtime associate and friend of the high school principal (once the head b-ball coach).  He also knew both coaches, helped establish the Coatesville Little League, and was generally one of  the biggest Coatesville sports boosters you could imagine.  He took our family to all the h.s. football and b-ball games when we were kids.  Although he was pretty even-tempered, I’d never seen my Dad so upset and agitated by this incident, and  he said he would get to the bottom of it.  That meant going up against our varsity basketball coach who’d been recruited here with Philly b-ball cred.  From the beginning he’d led Coatesville basketball to fantastic state-wide records,  which brought a lot of pride to this blue collar community.  So he was worshiped then (and to this day) and given a respectful, colorful nickname by which he is still is known—just like JoePa.  So much so that his stature trumped the principal, my Dad, my family, and our community.  Again,  so much like Penn State.  His image and the sports program, esp. basketball, was protected and I was literally thrown under the bus even though I had tried to keep the code and keep quiet about the whole thing.  But once confronted, I wasn’t going to lie to my parents for anyone.

Call me obsessed, but  I continued to play basketball.  Nobody on the team, my coaches or my parents ever talked about it again.  And there was this implied message to me:  Man up and take one for the team, because society’s obsession with sports over all won out.  This abusive custom stopped—so some good came out of it. Yet it emotionally screwed me up so much I started contemplating suicide.  I still finished my JV year with high rebounding,  scoring, and assist stats, just to make the varsity squad and be benched for 11th and 12th grade, and see less deserving players play before me.  I got the message:  The whistle blower gets punished. 

My varsity coach is still alive and I don’t hate him and he’s even supported our nonprofit.  We don’t speak about this incident even though I’m sure it’s been our minds at some point.  The statute of limitations is long gone and at the time my family and I didn’t take it any further.  I have been turned off since then by organized sports, particularly Coatesville sports.  Still a Phillies fan though and catch the Eagles sometimes—you can take the boy out of sport, but you can’t take the sports out of the boy.   I want to say:  Wake up society!  Everyone is a worthwhile human being and deserves to succeed and feel safe and secure in their own skin. Ironically this Penn State scandal has uncorked this repressed grief in so many abuse victims of all ages across the country,  because the invisible walls of fear that protects these powerful people has been breached and torn down. 

I truly hope that the result of the incredible ethical chaos and exposure going on everywhere is a clearer conscientiousness about how we go about making this a better world:  Helping, caring , showing empathy, and a respect for justice rather than revenge.  Let’s “human” up and become equals and that includes you too, one percenters.