Thursday, November 06, 2008
A Tree Grows
I still cannot get over Obama, president elect. It was like a liberation. Americans ideals are like the Tree of Heaven, the metaphor in the book A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, which ends:
“A new tree had grown from the stump and its trunk had grown along the ground until it reached a place where there were no wash lines above it. Then it had started to grow towards the sky again. Annie, the fir tree, that the Nolans had cherished with waterings and manurings, had long since sickened and died. But this tree in the yard - this tree that men chopped down...this tree that they built a bonfire around, trying to burn up its stump - this tree had lived!
“A new tree had grown from the stump and its trunk had grown along the ground until it reached a place where there were no wash lines above it. Then it had started to grow towards the sky again. Annie, the fir tree, that the Nolans had cherished with waterings and manurings, had long since sickened and died. But this tree in the yard - this tree that men chopped down...this tree that they built a bonfire around, trying to burn up its stump - this tree had lived!
A Tree Grows
I still cannot get over Obama, president elect. It was like a liberation. Americans ideals are like the Tree of Heaven, the metaphor in the book A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, which ends:
“A new tree had grown from the stump and its trunk had grown along the ground until it reached a place where there were no wash lines above it. Then it had started to grow towards the sky again. Annie, the fir tree, that the Nolans had cherished with waterings and manurings, had long since sickened and died. But this tree in the yard - this tree that men chopped down...this tree that they built a bonfire around, trying to burn up its stump - this tree had lived!
“A new tree had grown from the stump and its trunk had grown along the ground until it reached a place where there were no wash lines above it. Then it had started to grow towards the sky again. Annie, the fir tree, that the Nolans had cherished with waterings and manurings, had long since sickened and died. But this tree in the yard - this tree that men chopped down...this tree that they built a bonfire around, trying to burn up its stump - this tree had lived!
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Next president
I would have voted McCain, but can't. Don't let me say it, let The Economist, my source for critical thinking (and former supporter of Bush/Reagan).
------------------------
America should take a chance and make Barack Obama the next leader of the free world
IT IS impossible to forecast how important any presidency will be. Back in 2000 America stood tall as the undisputed superpower, at peace with a generally admiring world. The main argument was over what to do with the federal government’s huge budget surplus. Nobody foresaw the seismic events of the next eight years. When Americans go to the polls next week the mood will be very different. The United States is unhappy, divided and foundering both at home and abroad. Its self-belief and values are under attack.
For all the shortcomings of the campaign, both John McCain and Barack Obama offer hope of national redemption. Now America has to choose between them. The Economist does not have a vote, but if it did, it would cast it for Mr Obama. We do so wholeheartedly: the Democratic candidate has clearly shown that he offers the better chance of restoring America’s self-confidence. But we acknowledge it is a gamble. Given Mr Obama’s inexperience, the lack of clarity about some of his beliefs and the prospect of a stridently Democratic Congress, voting for him is a risk. Yet it is one America should take, given the steep road ahead.
Thinking about 2009 and 2017
The immediate focus, which has dominated the campaign, looks daunting enough: repairing America’s economy and its international reputation. The financial crisis is far from finished. The United States is at the start of a painful recession. Some form of further fiscal stimulus is needed (see article), though estimates of the budget deficit next year already spiral above $1 trillion. Some 50m Americans have negligible health-care cover. Abroad, even though troops are dying in two countries, the cack-handed way in which George Bush has prosecuted his war on terror has left America less feared by its enemies and less admired by its friends than it once was.
Yet there are also longer-term challenges, worth stressing if only because they have been so ignored on the campaign. Jump forward to 2017, when the next president will hope to relinquish office. A combination of demography and the rising costs of America’s huge entitlement programmes—Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid—will be starting to bankrupt the country (see article). Abroad a greater task is already evident: welding the new emerging powers to the West. That is not just a matter of handling the rise of India and China, drawing them into global efforts, such as curbs on climate change; it means reselling economic and political freedom to a world that too quickly associates American capitalism with Lehman Brothers and American justice with Guantánamo Bay. This will take patience, fortitude, salesmanship and strategy.
At the beginning of this election year, there were strong arguments against putting another Republican in the White House. A spell in opposition seemed apt punishment for the incompetence, cronyism and extremism of the Bush presidency. Conservative America also needs to recover its vim. Somehow Ronald Reagan’s party of western individualism and limited government has ended up not just increasing the size of the state but turning it into a tool of southern-fried moralism.
The selection of Mr McCain as the Republicans’ candidate was a powerful reason to reconsider. Mr McCain has his faults: he is an instinctive politician, quick to judge and with a sharp temper. And his age has long been a concern (how many global companies in distress would bring in a new 72-year-old boss?). Yet he has bravely taken unpopular positions—for free trade, immigration reform, the surge in Iraq, tackling climate change and campaign-finance reform. A western Republican in the Reagan mould, he has a long record of working with both Democrats and America’s allies.
If only the real John McCain had been running
That, however, was Senator McCain; the Candidate McCain of the past six months has too often seemed the victim of political sorcery, his good features magically inverted, his bad ones exaggerated. The fiscal conservative who once tackled Mr Bush over his unaffordable tax cuts now proposes not just to keep the cuts, but to deepen them. The man who denounced the religious right as “agents of intolerance” now embraces theocratic culture warriors. The campaigner against ethanol subsidies (who had a better record on global warming than most Democrats) came out in favour of a petrol-tax holiday. It has not all disappeared: his support for free trade has never wavered. Yet rather than heading towards the centre after he won the nomination, Mr McCain moved to the right.
Meanwhile his temperament, always perhaps his weak spot, has been found wanting. Sometimes the seat-of-the-pants method still works: his gut reaction over Georgia—to warn Russia off immediately—was the right one. Yet on the great issue of the campaign, the financial crisis, he has seemed all at sea, emitting panic and indecision. Mr McCain has never been particularly interested in economics, but, unlike Mr Obama, he has made little effort to catch up or to bring in good advisers (Doug Holtz-Eakin being the impressive exception).
The choice of Sarah Palin epitomised the sloppiness. It is not just that she is an unconvincing stand-in, nor even that she seems to have been chosen partly for her views on divisive social issues, notably abortion. Mr McCain made his most important appointment having met her just twice.
Ironically, given that he first won over so many independents by speaking his mind, the case for Mr McCain comes down to a piece of artifice: vote for him on the assumption that he does not believe a word of what he has been saying. Once he reaches the White House, runs this argument, he will put Mrs Palin back in her box, throw away his unrealistic tax plan and begin negotiations with the Democratic Congress. That is plausible; but it is a long way from the convincing case that Mr McCain could have made. Had he become president in 2000 instead of Mr Bush, the world might have had fewer problems. But this time it is beset by problems, and Mr McCain has not proved that he knows how to deal with them.
Is Mr Obama any better? Most of the hoopla about him has been about what he is, rather than what he would do. His identity is not as irrelevant as it sounds. Merely by becoming president, he would dispel many of the myths built up about America: it would be far harder for the spreaders of hate in the Islamic world to denounce the Great Satan if it were led by a black man whose middle name is Hussein; and far harder for autocrats around the world to claim that American democracy is a sham. America’s allies would rally to him: the global electoral college on our website shows a landslide in his favour. At home he would salve, if not close, the ugly racial wound left by America’s history and lessen the tendency of American blacks to blame all their problems on racism.
So Mr Obama’s star quality will be useful to him as president. But that alone is not enough to earn him the job. Charisma will not fix Medicare nor deal with Iran. Can he govern well? Two doubts present themselves: his lack of executive experience; and the suspicion that he is too far to the left.
There is no getting around the fact that Mr Obama’s résumé is thin for the world’s biggest job. But the exceptionally assured way in which he has run his campaign is a considerable comfort. It is not just that he has more than held his own against Mr McCain in the debates. A man who started with no money and few supporters has out-thought, out-organised and out-fought the two mightiest machines in American politics—the Clintons and the conservative right.
Political fire, far from rattling Mr Obama, seems to bring out the best in him: the furore about his (admittedly ghastly) preacher prompted one of the most thoughtful speeches of the campaign. On the financial crisis his performance has been as assured as Mr McCain’s has been febrile. He seems a quick learner and has built up an impressive team of advisers, drawing in seasoned hands like Paul Volcker, Robert Rubin and Larry Summers. Of course, Mr Obama will make mistakes; but this is a man who listens, learns and manages well.
It is hard too nowadays to depict him as soft when it comes to dealing with America’s enemies. Part of Mr Obama’s original appeal to the Democratic left was his keenness to get American troops out of Iraq; but since the primaries he has moved to the centre, pragmatically saying the troops will leave only when the conditions are right. His determination to focus American power on Afghanistan, Pakistan and proliferation was prescient. He is keener to talk to Iran than Mr McCain is— but that makes sense, providing certain conditions are met.
Our main doubts about Mr Obama have to do with the damage a muddle-headed Democratic Congress might try to do to the economy. Despite the protectionist rhetoric that still sometimes seeps into his speeches, Mr Obama would not sponsor a China-bashing bill. But what happens if one appears out of Congress? Worryingly, he has a poor record of defying his party’s baronies, especially the unions. His advisers insist that Mr Obama is too clever to usher in a new age of over-regulation, that he will stop such nonsense getting out of Congress, that he is a political chameleon who would move to the centre in Washington. But the risk remains that on economic matters the centre that Mr Obama moves to would be that of his party, not that of the country as a whole.
He has earned it
So Mr Obama in that respect is a gamble. But the same goes for Mr McCain on at least as many counts, not least the possibility of President Palin. And this cannot be another election where the choice is based merely on fear. In terms of painting a brighter future for America and the world, Mr Obama has produced the more compelling and detailed portrait. He has campaigned with more style, intelligence and discipline than his opponent. Whether he can fulfil his immense potential remains to be seen. But Mr Obama deserves the presidency.
------------------------
America should take a chance and make Barack Obama the next leader of the free world
IT IS impossible to forecast how important any presidency will be. Back in 2000 America stood tall as the undisputed superpower, at peace with a generally admiring world. The main argument was over what to do with the federal government’s huge budget surplus. Nobody foresaw the seismic events of the next eight years. When Americans go to the polls next week the mood will be very different. The United States is unhappy, divided and foundering both at home and abroad. Its self-belief and values are under attack.
For all the shortcomings of the campaign, both John McCain and Barack Obama offer hope of national redemption. Now America has to choose between them. The Economist does not have a vote, but if it did, it would cast it for Mr Obama. We do so wholeheartedly: the Democratic candidate has clearly shown that he offers the better chance of restoring America’s self-confidence. But we acknowledge it is a gamble. Given Mr Obama’s inexperience, the lack of clarity about some of his beliefs and the prospect of a stridently Democratic Congress, voting for him is a risk. Yet it is one America should take, given the steep road ahead.
Thinking about 2009 and 2017
The immediate focus, which has dominated the campaign, looks daunting enough: repairing America’s economy and its international reputation. The financial crisis is far from finished. The United States is at the start of a painful recession. Some form of further fiscal stimulus is needed (see article), though estimates of the budget deficit next year already spiral above $1 trillion. Some 50m Americans have negligible health-care cover. Abroad, even though troops are dying in two countries, the cack-handed way in which George Bush has prosecuted his war on terror has left America less feared by its enemies and less admired by its friends than it once was.
Yet there are also longer-term challenges, worth stressing if only because they have been so ignored on the campaign. Jump forward to 2017, when the next president will hope to relinquish office. A combination of demography and the rising costs of America’s huge entitlement programmes—Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid—will be starting to bankrupt the country (see article). Abroad a greater task is already evident: welding the new emerging powers to the West. That is not just a matter of handling the rise of India and China, drawing them into global efforts, such as curbs on climate change; it means reselling economic and political freedom to a world that too quickly associates American capitalism with Lehman Brothers and American justice with Guantánamo Bay. This will take patience, fortitude, salesmanship and strategy.
At the beginning of this election year, there were strong arguments against putting another Republican in the White House. A spell in opposition seemed apt punishment for the incompetence, cronyism and extremism of the Bush presidency. Conservative America also needs to recover its vim. Somehow Ronald Reagan’s party of western individualism and limited government has ended up not just increasing the size of the state but turning it into a tool of southern-fried moralism.
The selection of Mr McCain as the Republicans’ candidate was a powerful reason to reconsider. Mr McCain has his faults: he is an instinctive politician, quick to judge and with a sharp temper. And his age has long been a concern (how many global companies in distress would bring in a new 72-year-old boss?). Yet he has bravely taken unpopular positions—for free trade, immigration reform, the surge in Iraq, tackling climate change and campaign-finance reform. A western Republican in the Reagan mould, he has a long record of working with both Democrats and America’s allies.
If only the real John McCain had been running
That, however, was Senator McCain; the Candidate McCain of the past six months has too often seemed the victim of political sorcery, his good features magically inverted, his bad ones exaggerated. The fiscal conservative who once tackled Mr Bush over his unaffordable tax cuts now proposes not just to keep the cuts, but to deepen them. The man who denounced the religious right as “agents of intolerance” now embraces theocratic culture warriors. The campaigner against ethanol subsidies (who had a better record on global warming than most Democrats) came out in favour of a petrol-tax holiday. It has not all disappeared: his support for free trade has never wavered. Yet rather than heading towards the centre after he won the nomination, Mr McCain moved to the right.
Meanwhile his temperament, always perhaps his weak spot, has been found wanting. Sometimes the seat-of-the-pants method still works: his gut reaction over Georgia—to warn Russia off immediately—was the right one. Yet on the great issue of the campaign, the financial crisis, he has seemed all at sea, emitting panic and indecision. Mr McCain has never been particularly interested in economics, but, unlike Mr Obama, he has made little effort to catch up or to bring in good advisers (Doug Holtz-Eakin being the impressive exception).
The choice of Sarah Palin epitomised the sloppiness. It is not just that she is an unconvincing stand-in, nor even that she seems to have been chosen partly for her views on divisive social issues, notably abortion. Mr McCain made his most important appointment having met her just twice.
Ironically, given that he first won over so many independents by speaking his mind, the case for Mr McCain comes down to a piece of artifice: vote for him on the assumption that he does not believe a word of what he has been saying. Once he reaches the White House, runs this argument, he will put Mrs Palin back in her box, throw away his unrealistic tax plan and begin negotiations with the Democratic Congress. That is plausible; but it is a long way from the convincing case that Mr McCain could have made. Had he become president in 2000 instead of Mr Bush, the world might have had fewer problems. But this time it is beset by problems, and Mr McCain has not proved that he knows how to deal with them.
Is Mr Obama any better? Most of the hoopla about him has been about what he is, rather than what he would do. His identity is not as irrelevant as it sounds. Merely by becoming president, he would dispel many of the myths built up about America: it would be far harder for the spreaders of hate in the Islamic world to denounce the Great Satan if it were led by a black man whose middle name is Hussein; and far harder for autocrats around the world to claim that American democracy is a sham. America’s allies would rally to him: the global electoral college on our website shows a landslide in his favour. At home he would salve, if not close, the ugly racial wound left by America’s history and lessen the tendency of American blacks to blame all their problems on racism.
So Mr Obama’s star quality will be useful to him as president. But that alone is not enough to earn him the job. Charisma will not fix Medicare nor deal with Iran. Can he govern well? Two doubts present themselves: his lack of executive experience; and the suspicion that he is too far to the left.
There is no getting around the fact that Mr Obama’s résumé is thin for the world’s biggest job. But the exceptionally assured way in which he has run his campaign is a considerable comfort. It is not just that he has more than held his own against Mr McCain in the debates. A man who started with no money and few supporters has out-thought, out-organised and out-fought the two mightiest machines in American politics—the Clintons and the conservative right.
Political fire, far from rattling Mr Obama, seems to bring out the best in him: the furore about his (admittedly ghastly) preacher prompted one of the most thoughtful speeches of the campaign. On the financial crisis his performance has been as assured as Mr McCain’s has been febrile. He seems a quick learner and has built up an impressive team of advisers, drawing in seasoned hands like Paul Volcker, Robert Rubin and Larry Summers. Of course, Mr Obama will make mistakes; but this is a man who listens, learns and manages well.
It is hard too nowadays to depict him as soft when it comes to dealing with America’s enemies. Part of Mr Obama’s original appeal to the Democratic left was his keenness to get American troops out of Iraq; but since the primaries he has moved to the centre, pragmatically saying the troops will leave only when the conditions are right. His determination to focus American power on Afghanistan, Pakistan and proliferation was prescient. He is keener to talk to Iran than Mr McCain is— but that makes sense, providing certain conditions are met.
Our main doubts about Mr Obama have to do with the damage a muddle-headed Democratic Congress might try to do to the economy. Despite the protectionist rhetoric that still sometimes seeps into his speeches, Mr Obama would not sponsor a China-bashing bill. But what happens if one appears out of Congress? Worryingly, he has a poor record of defying his party’s baronies, especially the unions. His advisers insist that Mr Obama is too clever to usher in a new age of over-regulation, that he will stop such nonsense getting out of Congress, that he is a political chameleon who would move to the centre in Washington. But the risk remains that on economic matters the centre that Mr Obama moves to would be that of his party, not that of the country as a whole.
He has earned it
So Mr Obama in that respect is a gamble. But the same goes for Mr McCain on at least as many counts, not least the possibility of President Palin. And this cannot be another election where the choice is based merely on fear. In terms of painting a brighter future for America and the world, Mr Obama has produced the more compelling and detailed portrait. He has campaigned with more style, intelligence and discipline than his opponent. Whether he can fulfil his immense potential remains to be seen. But Mr Obama deserves the presidency.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
The New York opera season starts with a bang
For some reason this summer, while on my job search, I had the foresight to realize that I may have a new job that required a lot of travel and changed my season ticket from a Tuesday to a Friday night.
The season got started last month with Mary and me going to opening night. It seemed like we were planning it for ages. (I was hyping up the event for quite some time, to be honest.)
Despite some work drama, I made it over to the Metropolitan Opera to meet Mary. She was looking divine in her black dress and we had a glass of wine and walked over to the Met. The evening was a Renee Fleming gorge. She sang an act of Manon, La Traviata and the final scene from Capriccio. She was, as usually, fantastic, and decked out in dresses the Met commissioned for her.
The opera season continued with the soprano, Kraita Mattila reprising her performance of Salome. If opening night was glamorous and fun, Salome was electrifying, intense and an artistic triumph. Walking into the auditorium, we were taken by the painting on the curtain of angels sitting on blood-tinged clouds looked down from the heaven in horror. We knew we were in for something intense.
Matilla turned to score into a mix of twisted emotions which came to a sordid climax during the final scene, after being delivered the head of John the Baptist. She sang a hurricane of music, emotion, twisted sexuality, and even pathos. Kissing the head, she sings “you may have loved me.” So deranged was this scene that her stepfather turns to the executioner and says “kill that woman” after which point a hysterical Salome inched toward the orchestra pit while the executioner draws his machete. Then the curtain closed. It was one of the most enthusiastic ovations I’d ever heard at the Met.
In the spring, Michael and I met Deborah Voigt, the world’s leading dramatic soprano, at Carnegie Hall after she sang the final scene there and I asked when she would bring it to the Met. Apparently they said “no.” After this performance I can see why.
Then it was off to Mozart’s “Don Giovanni” which was marvelous. At the end of the day, there is Mozart and everyone else. The Met had a great cast. Next on the hit parade was the vocal perfection of "Luci di Lammernor" with Damaru as Lucia, another crazed woman, singing the role to no end.
After that it’s time for the Met’s georgous production of Madama Butterfly. As the reader(s?) of this blog know, seeing this is production was one of my great moments at the Met. I can’t wait to see it again.
So the opera season in New York has started with a BANG. I would doubt there is better theater in the Western Hemisphere than what’s going on at the Met these days. If you’re not in New York, you should see these performances in theaters. Watch the Met’s HD broadcasts live.
The season got started last month with Mary and me going to opening night. It seemed like we were planning it for ages. (I was hyping up the event for quite some time, to be honest.)
Despite some work drama, I made it over to the Metropolitan Opera to meet Mary. She was looking divine in her black dress and we had a glass of wine and walked over to the Met. The evening was a Renee Fleming gorge. She sang an act of Manon, La Traviata and the final scene from Capriccio. She was, as usually, fantastic, and decked out in dresses the Met commissioned for her.
The opera season continued with the soprano, Kraita Mattila reprising her performance of Salome. If opening night was glamorous and fun, Salome was electrifying, intense and an artistic triumph. Walking into the auditorium, we were taken by the painting on the curtain of angels sitting on blood-tinged clouds looked down from the heaven in horror. We knew we were in for something intense.
Matilla turned to score into a mix of twisted emotions which came to a sordid climax during the final scene, after being delivered the head of John the Baptist. She sang a hurricane of music, emotion, twisted sexuality, and even pathos. Kissing the head, she sings “you may have loved me.” So deranged was this scene that her stepfather turns to the executioner and says “kill that woman” after which point a hysterical Salome inched toward the orchestra pit while the executioner draws his machete. Then the curtain closed. It was one of the most enthusiastic ovations I’d ever heard at the Met.
In the spring, Michael and I met Deborah Voigt, the world’s leading dramatic soprano, at Carnegie Hall after she sang the final scene there and I asked when she would bring it to the Met. Apparently they said “no.” After this performance I can see why.
Then it was off to Mozart’s “Don Giovanni” which was marvelous. At the end of the day, there is Mozart and everyone else. The Met had a great cast. Next on the hit parade was the vocal perfection of "Luci di Lammernor" with Damaru as Lucia, another crazed woman, singing the role to no end.
After that it’s time for the Met’s georgous production of Madama Butterfly. As the reader(s?) of this blog know, seeing this is production was one of my great moments at the Met. I can’t wait to see it again.
So the opera season in New York has started with a BANG. I would doubt there is better theater in the Western Hemisphere than what’s going on at the Met these days. If you’re not in New York, you should see these performances in theaters. Watch the Met’s HD broadcasts live.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Salome
If you haven't already seen it, you HAVE to see Salome with Matilla at the Metropolitan Opera. One of the most intense evenings of opera I've seen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=875izVSHLKo
Also check out part 2.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VG00tbrMZW8&feature=related
It's so twisted. This production is a TRIUMPH.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=875izVSHLKo
Also check out part 2.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VG00tbrMZW8&feature=related
It's so twisted. This production is a TRIUMPH.
Salome
If you haven't already seen it, you HAVE to see Salome with Matilla at the Metropolitan Opera. One of the most intense evenings of opera I've seen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=875izVSHLKo
Also check out part 2.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VG00tbrMZW8&feature=related
It's so twisted. This production is a TRIUMPH.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=875izVSHLKo
Also check out part 2.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VG00tbrMZW8&feature=related
It's so twisted. This production is a TRIUMPH.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Can't you feel the shame?
In spite of its obvious inadequacies, one of the reasons for living out in Bay Ridge is that the area is so beautiful. I love to go for long jogs listening to music and mulling over things in my life and the world. So today when I got home, though at dusk, I went for a lovely sunset jog on the 11-mile promenade along New York harbor.
Listening to Rigoletto, I found myself thinking about my parents' visit (I know, I know, enough about the family already) and what a whirlwind weekend it was. I was thinking about their arrival on Friday, the meal I prepared, and how a couple of drinks turned conversation into debate, a few more drinks turned debate into rancor, and how a few more turned rancor into tears.
As the sun set, I was thinking about the debate phase, particularly with my father. I reflected on my youth and how anything he said was taken in as though a burning bush were beside him and his stone tablets. Gloating, I though about how I was able to turn his arguments against him and got him to admit he was an anarchist (which is was not, which made it even sweeter). “My, how the mighty have fallen” I thought.
An hour passed and the iPod turned to Sour Angelica as I thought about my mother. How different we were and how we could have such different views on things. They seemed so, well, numb to the social niceties I’ve become accustomed to in New York (does she even know of the iPod that I’m listening to?). And as I neared the end of my jog, I vaulted up the many steps that bring me from the promenade back to Shore Road. After what I thought was the last step, I lunged into my next stride when suddenly it felt as though someone grabbed on to my feet then threw my body to the ground.
As I skidded across the sidewalk I knew I’d been injured. I picked myself up and examined my wounds. My hand hurt and even in the dark I could see the blood dripping from my fingers. The haughty music and iPod were about 7 feet in front of me, destroyed. My thoughts, again, turned to my parents. “What if I need stitches? What if my hand is broken?” I thought “If these injuries are bad enough I know my mother would fly back and take care of me. I KNOW she would.” There isn’t a doubt in my mind my parents would do anything for me.
I walked back home, opened the door, and dressed my own wounds wondering if I should go to a hospital, then thinking "My mother would love this recording of Sour Angelica with De Los Angeles."
Listening to Rigoletto, I found myself thinking about my parents' visit (I know, I know, enough about the family already) and what a whirlwind weekend it was. I was thinking about their arrival on Friday, the meal I prepared, and how a couple of drinks turned conversation into debate, a few more drinks turned debate into rancor, and how a few more turned rancor into tears.
As the sun set, I was thinking about the debate phase, particularly with my father. I reflected on my youth and how anything he said was taken in as though a burning bush were beside him and his stone tablets. Gloating, I though about how I was able to turn his arguments against him and got him to admit he was an anarchist (which is was not, which made it even sweeter). “My, how the mighty have fallen” I thought.
An hour passed and the iPod turned to Sour Angelica as I thought about my mother. How different we were and how we could have such different views on things. They seemed so, well, numb to the social niceties I’ve become accustomed to in New York (does she even know of the iPod that I’m listening to?). And as I neared the end of my jog, I vaulted up the many steps that bring me from the promenade back to Shore Road. After what I thought was the last step, I lunged into my next stride when suddenly it felt as though someone grabbed on to my feet then threw my body to the ground.
As I skidded across the sidewalk I knew I’d been injured. I picked myself up and examined my wounds. My hand hurt and even in the dark I could see the blood dripping from my fingers. The haughty music and iPod were about 7 feet in front of me, destroyed. My thoughts, again, turned to my parents. “What if I need stitches? What if my hand is broken?” I thought “If these injuries are bad enough I know my mother would fly back and take care of me. I KNOW she would.” There isn’t a doubt in my mind my parents would do anything for me.
I walked back home, opened the door, and dressed my own wounds wondering if I should go to a hospital, then thinking "My mother would love this recording of Sour Angelica with De Los Angeles."
Can't your feel the shame?
In spite of its obvious inadequacies, one of the reasons for living out in Bay Ridge is that the area is so beautiful. I love to go for long jogs listening to music and mulling over things in my life and the world. So today when I got home, though at dusk, I went for a lovely sunset jog on the 11-mile promenade along New York harbor.
Listening to Rigoletto, I found myself thinking about my parents' visit (I know, I know, enough about the family already) and what a whirlwind weekend it was. I was thinking about their arrival on Friday, the meal I prepared, and how a couple of drinks turned conversation into debate, a few more drinks turned debate into rancor, and how a few more turned rancor into tears.
As the sun set, I was thinking about the debate phase, particularly with my father. I reflected on my youth and how anything he said was taken in as though a burning bush were beside him and his stone tablets. Gloating, I though about how I was able to turn his arguments against him and got him to admit he was an anarchist (which is was not, which made it even sweeter). “My, how the mighty have fallen” I thought.
An hour passed and the iPod turned to Sour Angelica as I thought about my mother. How different we were and how we could have such different views on things. They seemed so, well, numb to the social niceties I’ve become accustomed to in New York (does she even know of the iPod that I’m listening to?). And as I neared the end of my jog, I vaulted up the many steps that bring me from the promenade back to Shore Road. After what I thought was the last step, I lunged into my next stride when suddenly it felt as though someone grabbed on to my feet then threw my body to the ground.
As I skidded across the sidewalk I knew I’d been injured. I picked myself up and examined my wounds. My hand hurt and even in the dark I could see the blood dripping from my fingers. The haughty music and iPod were about 7 feet in front of me, destroyed. My thoughts, again, turned to my parents. “What if I need stitches? What if my hand is broken?” I thought “If these injuries are bad enough I know my mother would fly back and take care of me. I KNOW she would.” There isn’t a doubt in my mind my parents would do anything for me.
I walked back home, opened the door, and dressed my own wounds wondering if I should go to a hospital, then thinking "My mother would love this recording of Sour Angelica with De Los Angeles."
Listening to Rigoletto, I found myself thinking about my parents' visit (I know, I know, enough about the family already) and what a whirlwind weekend it was. I was thinking about their arrival on Friday, the meal I prepared, and how a couple of drinks turned conversation into debate, a few more drinks turned debate into rancor, and how a few more turned rancor into tears.
As the sun set, I was thinking about the debate phase, particularly with my father. I reflected on my youth and how anything he said was taken in as though a burning bush were beside him and his stone tablets. Gloating, I though about how I was able to turn his arguments against him and got him to admit he was an anarchist (which is was not, which made it even sweeter). “My, how the mighty have fallen” I thought.
An hour passed and the iPod turned to Sour Angelica as I thought about my mother. How different we were and how we could have such different views on things. They seemed so, well, numb to the social niceties I’ve become accustomed to in New York (does she even know of the iPod that I’m listening to?). And as I neared the end of my jog, I vaulted up the many steps that bring me from the promenade back to Shore Road. After what I thought was the last step, I lunged into my next stride when suddenly it felt as though someone grabbed on to my feet then threw my body to the ground.
As I skidded across the sidewalk I knew I’d been injured. I picked myself up and examined my wounds. My hand hurt and even in the dark I could see the blood dripping from my fingers. The haughty music and iPod were about 7 feet in front of me, destroyed. My thoughts, again, turned to my parents. “What if I need stitches? What if my hand is broken?” I thought “If these injuries are bad enough I know my mother would fly back and take care of me. I KNOW she would.” There isn’t a doubt in my mind my parents would do anything for me.
I walked back home, opened the door, and dressed my own wounds wondering if I should go to a hospital, then thinking "My mother would love this recording of Sour Angelica with De Los Angeles."
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
The Trains run on time
As you all know I’ve started a new job at a consulting firm. It’s not a trivial place. It was formerly Anderson Consulting before its partners broke away from Arthur Anderson in a disagreement over sharing revenue. It seemed like a foolish thing to do as “Anderson” was associated with tremendous “name equity” in the business world. (Arthur Anderson was an elite finance, accounting, and consulting firm.) But when the Enron scandal broke that brought down Arthur Anderson, it couldn’t have been more fortuitous.
Then comes me. I basically began my career in derivatives at the Chicago Board of Trade, went to grad school for a masters, before starting my real career at Mercer, another consulting firm. I was working on primarily labor-related work as an analyst/senior analyst for quite some time. I left Mercer for a PhD program that I dropped out of. I found myself recruited by marketing folks and head hunters to apply those skills to the marketing arena.
Since then I’ve held more senior-level positions in rank-and-file corporate America: MMA, iQor and Saks Fifth Avenue. For me, these places were boring. The thrill-of-the-hunt of getting clients, pressure to have successful projects, and doing great work with high-caliber people work were simply not there. I longed to get back to the consulting area.
About a year ago along comes Accenture wanting me to join them as a manager (two steps away from partner). I’m finally hired and start there three weeks ago. Thought I was told that the “trains run on time at Accenture” I naively took the job.
I was immediately staffed on my first project with an Accenture team that geographically spanned San Francisco, New York, Atlanta, India, and Athens (yes, Greece) and with a top client. A little coy, I tended towards my analyst roots by looking at data, etc. One week into it (opening night at the Met) the situation was made painfully clear to me that I needed to step it up. The entire project was now my responsibility: Coordinating people, directing consultants and Senior Managers internationally was my problem. “I think I need to pump the primer here!” the partner on the project said to me “Your job is to make this happen – it’s been a week.” OK. . . I didn’t realize that was all on me.
So the last couple of weeks I’ve found myself in a very different place from where I was during my Mercer days. 70% of my 11 hour day is spent getting my arms around the big picture by shoehorning myself into clients’ minds, directing colleagues and in the details of data collection and empirical analysis with Greece, the US and India. My analytical and economic skills are of little service to me now. It is my job to coordinate everyone and ensure things are delivered on-time and on-budget.
I think I’ve got a hold on it now, but for the first two weeks I’ve been beside myself figuring out how all this will work will get done. I’m feeling a bit better but can’t help but be concerned about what the partner on this project is thinking of me. Certainly, it hasn’t been graceful, but I’ve managed to keep things on-schedule while getting up to speed on everything else.
“The trains run on time at Accenture” and that, for me, means little sympathy for being a rookie.
Then comes me. I basically began my career in derivatives at the Chicago Board of Trade, went to grad school for a masters, before starting my real career at Mercer, another consulting firm. I was working on primarily labor-related work as an analyst/senior analyst for quite some time. I left Mercer for a PhD program that I dropped out of. I found myself recruited by marketing folks and head hunters to apply those skills to the marketing arena.
Since then I’ve held more senior-level positions in rank-and-file corporate America: MMA, iQor and Saks Fifth Avenue. For me, these places were boring. The thrill-of-the-hunt of getting clients, pressure to have successful projects, and doing great work with high-caliber people work were simply not there. I longed to get back to the consulting area.
About a year ago along comes Accenture wanting me to join them as a manager (two steps away from partner). I’m finally hired and start there three weeks ago. Thought I was told that the “trains run on time at Accenture” I naively took the job.
I was immediately staffed on my first project with an Accenture team that geographically spanned San Francisco, New York, Atlanta, India, and Athens (yes, Greece) and with a top client. A little coy, I tended towards my analyst roots by looking at data, etc. One week into it (opening night at the Met) the situation was made painfully clear to me that I needed to step it up. The entire project was now my responsibility: Coordinating people, directing consultants and Senior Managers internationally was my problem. “I think I need to pump the primer here!” the partner on the project said to me “Your job is to make this happen – it’s been a week.” OK. . . I didn’t realize that was all on me.
So the last couple of weeks I’ve found myself in a very different place from where I was during my Mercer days. 70% of my 11 hour day is spent getting my arms around the big picture by shoehorning myself into clients’ minds, directing colleagues and in the details of data collection and empirical analysis with Greece, the US and India. My analytical and economic skills are of little service to me now. It is my job to coordinate everyone and ensure things are delivered on-time and on-budget.
I think I’ve got a hold on it now, but for the first two weeks I’ve been beside myself figuring out how all this will work will get done. I’m feeling a bit better but can’t help but be concerned about what the partner on this project is thinking of me. Certainly, it hasn’t been graceful, but I’ve managed to keep things on-schedule while getting up to speed on everything else.
“The trains run on time at Accenture” and that, for me, means little sympathy for being a rookie.
The trains run on time
As you all know I’ve started a new job at a consulting firm. It’s not a trivial place. It was formerly Anderson Consulting before its partners broke away from Arthur Anderson in a disagreement over sharing revenue. It seemed like a foolish thing to do as “Anderson” was associated with tremendous “name equity” in the business world. (Arthur Anderson was an elite finance, accounting, and consulting firm.) But when the Enron scandal broke that brought down Arthur Anderson, it couldn’t have been more fortuitous.
Then comes me. I basically began my career in derivatives at the Chicago Board of Trade, went to grad school for a masters, before starting my real career at Mercer, another consulting firm. I was working on primarily labor-related work as an analyst/senior analyst for quite some time. I left Mercer for a PhD program that I dropped out of. I found myself recruited by marketing folks and head hunters to apply those skills to the marketing arena.
Since then I’ve held more senior-level positions in rank-and-file corporate America: MMA, iQor and Saks Fifth Avenue. For me, these places were boring. The thrill-of-the-hunt of getting clients, pressure to have successful projects, and doing great work with high-caliber people work were simply not there. I longed to get back to the consulting area.
About a year ago along comes Accenture wanting me to join them as a manager (two steps away from partner). I’m finally hired and start there three weeks ago. Thought I was told that the “trains run on time at Accenture” I naively took the job.
I was immediately staffed on my first project with an Accenture team that geographically spanned San Francisco, New York, Atlanta, India, and Athens (yes, Greece) and with a top client. A little coy, I tended towards my analyst roots by looking at data, etc. One week into it (opening night at the Met) the situation was made painfully clear to me that I needed to step it up. The entire project was now my responsibility: Coordinating people, directing consultants and Senior Managers internationally was my problem. “I think I need to pump the primer here!” the partner on the project said to me “Your job is to make this happen – it’s been a week.” OK. . . I didn’t realize that was all on me.
So the last couple of weeks I’ve found myself in a very different place from where I was during my Mercer days. 70% of my 11 hour day is spent getting my arms around the big picture by shoehorning myself into clients’ minds, directing colleagues and in the details of data collection and empirical analysis with Greece, the US and India. My analytical and economic skills are of little service to me now. It is my job to coordinate everyone and ensure things are delivered on-time and on-budget.
I think I’ve got a hold on it now, but for the first two weeks I’ve been beside myself figuring out how all this will work will get done. I’m feeling a bit better but can’t help but be concerned about what the partner on this project is thinking of me. Certainly, it hasn’t been graceful, but I’ve managed to keep things on-schedule while getting up to speed on everything else.
“The trains run on time at Accenture” and that, for me, means little sympathy for being a rookie.
Then comes me. I basically began my career in derivatives at the Chicago Board of Trade, went to grad school for a masters, before starting my real career at Mercer, another consulting firm. I was working on primarily labor-related work as an analyst/senior analyst for quite some time. I left Mercer for a PhD program that I dropped out of. I found myself recruited by marketing folks and head hunters to apply those skills to the marketing arena.
Since then I’ve held more senior-level positions in rank-and-file corporate America: MMA, iQor and Saks Fifth Avenue. For me, these places were boring. The thrill-of-the-hunt of getting clients, pressure to have successful projects, and doing great work with high-caliber people work were simply not there. I longed to get back to the consulting area.
About a year ago along comes Accenture wanting me to join them as a manager (two steps away from partner). I’m finally hired and start there three weeks ago. Thought I was told that the “trains run on time at Accenture” I naively took the job.
I was immediately staffed on my first project with an Accenture team that geographically spanned San Francisco, New York, Atlanta, India, and Athens (yes, Greece) and with a top client. A little coy, I tended towards my analyst roots by looking at data, etc. One week into it (opening night at the Met) the situation was made painfully clear to me that I needed to step it up. The entire project was now my responsibility: Coordinating people, directing consultants and Senior Managers internationally was my problem. “I think I need to pump the primer here!” the partner on the project said to me “Your job is to make this happen – it’s been a week.” OK. . . I didn’t realize that was all on me.
So the last couple of weeks I’ve found myself in a very different place from where I was during my Mercer days. 70% of my 11 hour day is spent getting my arms around the big picture by shoehorning myself into clients’ minds, directing colleagues and in the details of data collection and empirical analysis with Greece, the US and India. My analytical and economic skills are of little service to me now. It is my job to coordinate everyone and ensure things are delivered on-time and on-budget.
I think I’ve got a hold on it now, but for the first two weeks I’ve been beside myself figuring out how all this will work will get done. I’m feeling a bit better but can’t help but be concerned about what the partner on this project is thinking of me. Certainly, it hasn’t been graceful, but I’ve managed to keep things on-schedule while getting up to speed on everything else.
“The trains run on time at Accenture” and that, for me, means little sympathy for being a rookie.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Depression?
I have to say the events unfolding today are absolutely incredible. In every way, recent reactions to the situation in the housing market show how deeply this country was affected by the Depression.
Similar to today, the Depression began with a crisis among financial institutions. But unlike today, the financial institutions impacted are not dealing with runs on their banks by depositors. Since the Depression we created the FDIC, which eliminates that risk: Depositors will get their savings back regardless. So the problem is essentially created by the falling asset value banks have on their books; mortgages.
The Federal Reserve is a very special institution because they have the power to create money. Currently, the Fed pegs an overnight interest rate (called the Federal Funds rate) that banks charge each other to borrow money. The Fed determines what that interest rate will be – witness all the headlines of when they decide to change it – and will essentially print up any money it takes to maintain that interest rate. It does this by purchasing things.
To create money the Fed purchases Treasury securities. To acquire these assets the Fed must create a liability to purchase them with. For you or me it would be debt, drawing down cash, or some other way of financing it. But when the Fed purchases something it creates the liability called money, greenbacks, dollars; those paper things we all have in our wallet.
When this system was on the gold standard, it was a claim against its gold reserves, so the Fed had to have gold to print it up. Since the abolition of the gold standard (which had its own issues) during the Nixon administration, purchases by the Fed are backed by nothing. The liabilities the Fed creates are uncollateralized US Dollars deposited in the banks it buys stuff from. Technically, the liabilities it is capable of creating are without bound without a gold standard (or a silver, eggs, etc., standard).
With this bailout, the Fed – which is a part of the Treasury – has decided to replace this process with purchasing other kinds of assets. Not the kind that have to be paid back by the taxpayers like Treasury debt but, basically, the bum private sector assets that bog down Wall Street. Why is this a problem? It’s because these assets, by design, have no value and make the Federal Government, for the first time in history, an invsetor in private assets; not just any type, but the most toxic.
Economically, the actions by the Federal Reserve are tantamount to printing up the money to subsidize banks’ overly risky behavior by propping up the asset values of worthless debt. Someone has to pay for this. And that is a tax that economist call the “inflation tax,” levied through a rise in the price level. So those Americans holding cash – usually the poor –have less and less purchasing power, and are the ones shouldering it. As wages and prices struggle to adjust in the next 9 months or so to deal with this the increased money supply, we will find this tax levied on the American people without a debate in the House or Senate, or ANY part of our checks and balances
And this is why, to be honest, our lawmakers are struggling with this. It pits our fundamental values as a democracy against a short-term credit fix. I applaud that the House struggles with this. They have a bit for foresight than that of the Federal Reserve or presidential candidates.
I doubt Mrs. Palin has a clue what I am talking about.
Similar to today, the Depression began with a crisis among financial institutions. But unlike today, the financial institutions impacted are not dealing with runs on their banks by depositors. Since the Depression we created the FDIC, which eliminates that risk: Depositors will get their savings back regardless. So the problem is essentially created by the falling asset value banks have on their books; mortgages.
The Federal Reserve is a very special institution because they have the power to create money. Currently, the Fed pegs an overnight interest rate (called the Federal Funds rate) that banks charge each other to borrow money. The Fed determines what that interest rate will be – witness all the headlines of when they decide to change it – and will essentially print up any money it takes to maintain that interest rate. It does this by purchasing things.
To create money the Fed purchases Treasury securities. To acquire these assets the Fed must create a liability to purchase them with. For you or me it would be debt, drawing down cash, or some other way of financing it. But when the Fed purchases something it creates the liability called money, greenbacks, dollars; those paper things we all have in our wallet.
When this system was on the gold standard, it was a claim against its gold reserves, so the Fed had to have gold to print it up. Since the abolition of the gold standard (which had its own issues) during the Nixon administration, purchases by the Fed are backed by nothing. The liabilities the Fed creates are uncollateralized US Dollars deposited in the banks it buys stuff from. Technically, the liabilities it is capable of creating are without bound without a gold standard (or a silver, eggs, etc., standard).
With this bailout, the Fed – which is a part of the Treasury – has decided to replace this process with purchasing other kinds of assets. Not the kind that have to be paid back by the taxpayers like Treasury debt but, basically, the bum private sector assets that bog down Wall Street. Why is this a problem? It’s because these assets, by design, have no value and make the Federal Government, for the first time in history, an invsetor in private assets; not just any type, but the most toxic.
Economically, the actions by the Federal Reserve are tantamount to printing up the money to subsidize banks’ overly risky behavior by propping up the asset values of worthless debt. Someone has to pay for this. And that is a tax that economist call the “inflation tax,” levied through a rise in the price level. So those Americans holding cash – usually the poor –have less and less purchasing power, and are the ones shouldering it. As wages and prices struggle to adjust in the next 9 months or so to deal with this the increased money supply, we will find this tax levied on the American people without a debate in the House or Senate, or ANY part of our checks and balances
And this is why, to be honest, our lawmakers are struggling with this. It pits our fundamental values as a democracy against a short-term credit fix. I applaud that the House struggles with this. They have a bit for foresight than that of the Federal Reserve or presidential candidates.
I doubt Mrs. Palin has a clue what I am talking about.
