Poultry & Prose: recession

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The Anorexic Economy

Everyone’s heard about how Marilyn Monroe’s size 14 of the 1950s would be considered plus size today. But you don’t have to go back that far. The perfect sizes of the 1980s and 90s are today’s portly sizes.

Look at actress Courtney Thorne-Smith, today (left) and from the 1980s (right). Today she's a spokesperson for the Atkins weight loss plan. In the 1980s she played a Laker Girl named Kimberly on L.A. Law. Yesterday's chipmunk cheeks are today's chubby cheeks.

When I drive my son Wyatt around, the car radio is tuned to the local pop music station. At one time, weight-loss products were advertised twice a year: after Christmas and before the beach season. Now, they’re advertised 365 days a year.

One of the commercials made me do a double take. The announcer talked about how she was once a size nine. After taking this particular fat-burning protein powder, she is now a size three. Size three.

The last time I tried to lose weight, size nine was my target size. And now it’s a plus size?

I can’t help but compare how the ideal body size and the ideal workforce size are both shrinking. Absolutely, shedding pounds can be good to a point. You feel better, you’re healthier, and you can accomplish more because you have more energy. But when you’ve shrunk so much that you start shedding muscle and your body can no longer function the way it should, it’s past time to rethink your plan. Ask anyone in the thinned workforce who’s trying to do the jobs of three or four people.

Food for thought as our anorexic, schizophrenic economy lurches along.

Image sources: Courtney Thorne-Smith: sitcomsonline.com and article.wn.com. Marilyn Monroe: makems.com. Adele: last.fm/music/Adele

What Does Being "Responsible" Mean?

I hate the word “responsible.”

Not because I consider myself an irresponsible person.

But because the word “responsible” is unclear and subjective, without a universal definition.

In a recent weekly address, President Obama used the word "responsible" nine times. Here’s an excerpt from the transcript, provided by The UpTake: (boldface mine)

Right now, there are more than 10 million homeowners in this country who, because of a decline in home prices that is no fault of their own, owe more on their mortgages than their homes are worth. Now, it is wrong for anyone to suggest that the only option for struggling, responsible homeowners is to sit and wait for the housing market to hit bottom. I don’t accept that. None of us should.

That’s why we launched a plan a couple years ago that’s helped nearly one million responsible homeowners refinance their mortgages and save an average of $300 on their payments each month. Now, I’ll be the first to admit it didn’t help as many folks as we’d hoped. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep trying.

That’s why I’m sending Congress a plan that will give every responsible homeowner the chance to save about $3,000 a year on their mortgages by refinancing at historically low rates. No more red tape. No more endless forms. And a small fee on the largest financial institutions will make sure it doesn’t add a dime to the deficit.

Homeowners are considered irresponsible for refinancing in order to pay off credit card debt. But is it irresponsible when the accumulated debt is to pay for an urgent care visit? A new well pump when the old one gives out? New brakes for the truck?

For many people, the conversation will end right here with the admonishment, “Well, you should have had savings. You should have planned in advance.”

The Star Tribune has a story about a south Minneapolis couple who opened their 875 square-foot house to a succession of relatives who faced job loss, divorce, untenable student debt. The article mentioned conflicts over relatives who drank beer, tenants who were grateful because they were able to have a roof over their heads for their family and dog and cat.

I can just hear the commenters. “If they didn’t drink beer, if they got rid of the dog and cat, they wouldn’t be in that situation.”

Life isn’t always pretty. The solutions to problems aren’t always tidy and the people who need help aren’t always perfect. How much effort, how many blue-ribbon task forces, and how much money will it take to parse out responsible homeowners from irresponsible homeowners?

From Wall Street to Main Street,
We're All In This Together

Jeff Rosenberg over at MnPublius always gives me something to think about. He writes, "I still don't know how I feel about the 'Occupy Wall Street' movement itself." I feel the same way. Mainly, because the people who the economy is most affecting -- the unemployed and underemployed -- can't afford to travel to New York. But if there's any unifying message to the protests, it's this: We're all in this together.

For some people, the weakened economy means they can only buy a $2,000 refrigerator instead of a $3,000 one.

As you move down the economic continuum, the weakened economy means making a current refrigerator do for another year or two.

Buying a refrigerator from Craigslist.

Or moving into a refrigerator box.

Whatever rung we inhabit on the economic ladder, we're all in this together. That's the message I hope the OccupyWallStreet movement carries forth.

Since it's Friday, think about following @JeffRosenberg and @OccupyWallSt on Twitter.

Related Posts:
Titanic and the Economy: We Sink or Swim Together

Frosted Off

Thank God for Paula Lee Bright.

When so many people are paying little to minimal attention because they're simply trying to survive (myself included), Paula jumps up and down and implores us, "HEY! Listen to this!! Get angry!!"

I've heard about the Occupy Wall Street demonstrations, in which ordinary citizens protest how Wall Street greed has destroyed the economy. Ordinary citizens who have been pepper sprayed by New York cops simply for exercising their First Amendment rights.

Occurring at the same time, closer to home, a purchase of ready-to-eat breakfast food, the typical daily fare we eat until our kitchen is fully functional.

9-11 Pop-Tarts.

Oh, say does that star-spangled Pop-Tart yet bake...

Okay, they're not technically called 9-11 Pop-Tarts. They're called Limited Edition American Summer Frosted Strawberry Pop-Tarts. But considering they were released in the summer of the tenth anniversary of 9-11, the marketing strategy was obviously 9-11. They're coated with blue frosting and spangled with crunchy stars of red, white and blue. Patriotism never tasted so good. And it's part of a complete balanced breakfast.

The Wall Street protesters are taking on the mantle of those who protested the Vietnam war. Because to support the protesters means you're against the law enforcers, in this case New York's finest who risked their lives 10 years ago.

But the 9-11 card isn't a permanent Get Out of Jail Free card every time law enforcers become law breakers.

I don't know why red, white and blue Pop-Tarts have me frosted off when banks have made thousands of dollars off me over time. But every now and then a smaller event is what's needed to make me angry about larger events. Like malfeasance and totalitarianism.

Those things aren't easy to sugar coat. Not with Paula around. Check out her blog.

Related Posts:
The Economy's Sick. Up Its Meds.
The Cherished Right to "Wote"
A Liberal Tea Party: Just a Dream?

Right Foot Red: Meet the Twister Carpet

As the remodeling of the second story continues, my husband Mike figured I'd want to have the carpet replaced with something more subtle.

I've never been crazy about it. But now, perhaps because we'll be living upstairs, I'm starting to like the carpet. Really like it.

Picture the bubbles of a lava lamp, or a Twister mat with all of the spots red. That's the carpet. It's recycled from a Holiday Inn in Rochester which remodeled its conference rooms in 1972. The hotel was giving away carpet to anyone who could cart it away, and Mike's parents carted home a truckload. They carpeted all the rooms on both floors. They gave carpet to a friend whose carpet was ruined by flooding.

Because the upstairs of the farmhouse has been rarely used, the Twister carpet looks new despite being almost 40 years old. (The downstairs carpet has long been replaced.) Mike had a remnant of gold carpet he offered as an alternative. But I liked how the red of the carpet kicked up the energy of the Pretty Good Room, what we call our miniature great room. With a funky 1970s carpet design and a column finished in barn boards, the room has a feel that's frugal and eclectic.

So if you ever come to visit, we'll be ready for a game of Twister (watch the original 1966 commercial here) -- as long as every command ends in the color red.

Looking out from the Pretty Good Room, with barn boards
on the right, and the door to Wyatt's room across the hall.

The bookshelf at the right was once a doorway to the Pretty Good Room, which at one time was two rooms. The room at the end of the hall is the bathroom: another story in itself.

The Small-Town Post Office:
Address Unknown?

If you're a person who still writes letters, you could address a letter to me at Susan Maricle, Bruno, Minnesota, and chances are I'd receive it.

Because once the letter arrived at the Bruno Post Office from Duluth or the Twin Cities, a postal worker like Bev or Dan would say, "Ohyeah, I know where she lives."

The Bruno Post Office.

Neighbors knowing neighbors makes a post office unique to small towns. The post offices in Kerrick (population 79) and Bruno (population 102) are on the list of 117 Minnesota post offices under consideration for closure. It's not a done deal, as residents are signing petitions and contacting their state legislators. But the fact that specific post offices (I refuse to use the term "retail outlets") have been identified is reason enough to act.

The Kerrick Post Office.

A frequent objection to closing small-town post offices is their significance to senior citizens, their role as a meet-and-greet with old friends before breakfast. If the Kerrick and Bruno post offices close, seniors who rent post-office boxes would have to either switch to at-home delivery or drive to a farther post office. If you're a senior on a limited budget, and are apprehensive about driving on icy winter roads -- Highway 23 can be treacherous -- you've just lost a treasured morning ritual. And the local diner has lost the breakfast income that follows the ritual.

From my own point of view, a small-town post office is a go-to place, a where-do-I, who-do-I, how-do-I place. When I left the Bruno Post Office this morning I ran into Sparky Nelson, who administers the food shelf and volunteers at senior dining. I asked her who I would contact to rent the Bruno Town Hall across the road. She directed me to Doug Blechinger, the mayor who lives down the road. Stand outside in front of a small-town post office with a question. Before long you'll have the answer.

A Secret Santa and Mike the Mailman
In the event of a post office closure, those of us with rural route delivery would receive our mail from a more distant post office, perhaps Askov or Wrenshall. I'm sure the postal workers there are great people, but I wouldn't expect them to know everything that goes on in our little corner of east central Minnesota. Like the anonymous benefactor who would buy a small Christmas present for each young child in Bruno. The toys would show up in mailboxes on Christmas Eve with a return address of the North Pole. Or when "Mike the Mailman," as neighbors called him, would leave a dog biscuit in the mailbox at every home on his route where a dog lived.

The Collectible Toy Post Office

Eight miles north on State Highway 23, the Kerrick Post Office resembles a toy building in a collectible tabletop village. Terri Stadin says an older gentleman comes up from the Cities once a month to buy a book of ten stamps because he admires the tiny building with its neatly manicured grounds.

The Kerrick Post Office was fashioned from part of the old Kerrick Hotel in the 1970s, says retired Postmaster John Wenzel. (Wenzel's own home is also a piece of history: it's a refurbished church that you'll recognize if you've seen the movie Iron Will.)

The bulletin board outside of the post office is another reason why small-town post offices are the go-to place. You'll see notices for free will suppers, informational flyers about utility payment assistance, and assorted business cards. The bulletin board is a 24/7 news service for those who don't have the Internet, and provides local context for people like me who are too busy dashing here and there to notice what's going on.

Address Unknown, A Connection Lost
The dominoes are slowly but steadily falling. A post office is probably next after a school in giving a town its identity, and Bruno and Kerrick lost their local schools to consolidation long ago. A desire for smaller government can lead to a greater disconnect among neighbors and communities. Is that really the outcome that we want?

Listen to the Minnesota Public Radio report:

Ninety Minutes on a School Bus: One Way
An Angel in the U.S. Post Office

Moving In with the Parents at Age 50

I’ve pondered a long time about how to write this post. Being a fiftysomething whose family is moving in with the in-laws is never an easy thing to disclose. But after times of feeling despair and times of feeling euphoria, I’ve come to view the decision in five words: it is what it is.

There are many reasons to look forward to the move to Dodge Center in southeastern Minnesota.

My husband Mike and I will have more job possibilities, as Dodge County has an unemployment rate of 5.5% compared to Pine County's rate of 8.9%. (Minnesota readers, see how your county rates in this cool map.)
Our son Wyatt will have a shorter bus ride to a school that offers more academic and athletic choices than his last one.
Mike will be able to hang out with friends he’s had for decades.
Wyatt will be able to see his grandparents more often than twice a year.
Shopping will no longer take up the entire day.
There's a free vanilla softserve with our dog Jerry's name on it.

An Emerging Demographic Trend
This boomer boomerang trend is happening to more families than ours. Don’t ask me for statistics; moving back in with the parents at age 50 is something you don’t put in status updates or announce to your network. (Blabby bloggers excepted.) Heck, 25-year-olds get the fisheye if they say they’re moving back in with Mom and Dad.

So I say, let’s embrace this demographic trend. We are FIBBERs, or Fiftysomething Boomerang Boomers. Marketers are missing a prime opportunity here.

The Waltons to the Rescue

I became at peace with the move after watching an episode of The Waltons, a 1970s drama about a Depression-era family in Appalachian Virginia. In an episode entitled “The Heritage,” a land developer offered to buy the Waltons’ property because of the mineral springs on their land. After much thought, patriarch John was ready to sell. Then eldest son John-Boy observed that the decision to sell should be made by the two youngest children, Jim-Bob and Elizabeth. The five older children would take with them years of memories -- footfalls on the stairs, sounds and smells of breakfast, chattering voices around the kitchen table -- but the youngest would scarcely remember this heritage.

That’s when I realized that three generations living under one roof doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

I don’t have delusions about the move. Life won't always be peach cobbler and homemade ice cream. No professional likes to admit to needing help paying bills, and no older parent likes to admit to needing help around the house. But it's that mutual need, that exchange of value, a willingness to work together, and an unbending love of family that trumps stiff-necked pride, that will pull us through.

Related Posts:
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Titanic and the Economy:
We Sink or Swim Together

I was watching Titanic this weekend, the James Cameron pic about the doomed luxury liner, and starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet. I was struck by how the 1912 class passenger system on Titanic mirrored the class economic system today. By the time the first-class passengers realized that the ship was taking on water, the second- and third-class passengers (also known as steerage) had already perished. And by the time the luxury class was aware of the problem, the problem was too far gone to solve.

We sink or swim together. What affects the lowest class eventually affects the highest class. And the problem, whether it's a sinking ocean liner or a postponed solution to a state budget, will be that much greater to solve.

On a related topic, numerous blogs have quoted Minnesota State Representative Mary Kiffmeyer, who believes the reason for Governor Mark Dayton's push for revenue is because "they want to go after those who've actually worked hard." Apparently, Rep. Kiffmeyer believes the wealthy swim -- and the sinking steerage classes have no bearing on them.

I believe individuals "swim together" every time I walk the wooded trails of the 80-acre vacation property across the road. The cabin there is watched by my husband Mike and me to make sure nothing suspicious or malicious takes place. Mike clears out deadwood to remove fire hazards and removes trees that have fallen during a destructive storm. In return, the owners welcome us to pick berries, gather firewood, and enjoy the scenery. Stepping from a five-acre sliver of farm into an eighty-acre wooded expanse results in my best thinking.

Our two families, mine and my neighbor's, share different economic strata but we bring value to each other. Just like upper-class Rose was saved by steerage-class Jack Dawson -- I know, it's a wildly fictional account from an overwrought date movie -- but the message is worth keeping in mind. We sink or swim together. Even if we're traveling on different levels.

It Is What It Is

Need to describe an imperfect situation ambivalently, objectively, dispassionately?
Here's your phrase:

It is what it is.

It's a phrase that usually drives me buggy. But it's one that sums up the current U.S. job market. Millions of jobs have been lost during the recession. As a job hunter myself, I have adopted a Zen perspective.

It is what it is.

And what the job market is, is a game of musical chairs. The only difference being, in musical chairs one chair is removed at a time. In the job market the number of chairs being removed is wildly disproportionate to those seeking them: the current players, not to mention the steady influx of players with their newly minted degrees in Parlor Games.

It is what it is.

When I apply for a freelance copywriting job, I try not to think of the hundreds of other writers who are applying for the same job. All of us thinking, If I circle the chairs slowly enough, if I dive in quickly enough, if I hang on hard enough, I'll get to grab and keep a chair.

It is what it is. And what it is, is mathematically impossible for everyone to get a chair.

Knowing that is liberating. In a Zen sort of way.

Flickr Photo Credit: j_a_clarke77

The Economy's Sick. Up Its Meds.

I am a hobbyist homeopath. Based on the principle of "like cures like," homeopathy is the practice of treating illnesses by using trace amounts of the substance that caused the illness.

Say your allergies are acting up and your eyes are streaming as if you've been chopping onions. Tablets of allium cepa, or red onion, are recommended. If you can't sleep at night, reach for tablets of coffea.

There are hundreds of homeopathic treatments in all. They range in potency from a low of 6X to a high of 200c, which are administered by skilled and licensed homeopaths. I have a kit of 36 6X remedies at home. The kit cost $96 and has saved our family hundreds of dollars in urgent care visits, doctor's office visits, and even veterinary visits. When the nearest doctor is half an hour away and a greater share of healthcare expenses are paid out of pocket—assuming you have health insurance to begin with—homeopathy is worth considering.

Watch any TV commercial for a pharmaceutical and notice the long list of possible side effects. If you take the wrong homeopathic tablet for an ailment, the only side effect is nothing happens.

Homeopathy has its detractors, mainly people who practice traditional or allopathic medicine. A few years ago I was talking to a licensed homeopath about remedies I could recommend for a good friend's illness. The homeopath advised against the idea. She said if the remedy was incorrect or if the dosage was too low, people would say "See, homeopathy doesn't work."

A similar scenario is playing out with the U.S. economy. Some people say the stimulus didn't work because it was too small. Others say it didn't work because they don't like who's administering it. Count me in the first camp. The economy's sick. Up its meds. Stat!

Learn more about homeopathy from a homeopathic educator and published author.

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