Because I’m a person of advanced years, I DO think about Social Security a bit more than I did in my carefree younger days. But I quickly tire of any talk about Social Security insolvency. Not because it isn’t possible, but because the fix is so patently obvious.
It’s time to raise the roof!
Here’s why:
I know $184,500 is more than most Americans earn in a year. But there are plenty of people making a LOT more than that. (6% of covered workers, per the Social Security website.) And it seems unfair that once they’ve hit that mark, they don’t contribute another nickel… even though their SS payments will be higher than the Average Joe’s (and Average Jane’s) based on their lofty income.
And the $184,500 is based on “earned” income (wages, salary, tips, bonus…). So if you make a killing in the stock market, or pulling in thousands in dividends, that’s not even taken into consideration.
Raising the roof (i.e. the max or cap) would deliver a lot more money into the system, without creating a hardship on anyone. What should that roof be? 300K? 400k? Greater minds than mine can sort that out.
OR, maybe instead of raising the roof, we shouldn’t have a roof at all!
Nick Hanauer‘s proposal calls for that (eliminating the roof), and actually goes a couple of steps further, by lowering the contribution rate by 50% while also eliminating the capital gains and investment exemptions and loopholes. Check it out:
“Half of all national income is now above the cap.”
I’m not one of those “eat the rich” types. But I do think that Social Security could be much better for America if it were more social.
Jason Kottke’s newsletter led me to Molly Burford’s “list poetry” as Jason called it. I thought this one was very poignant:
I especially love “Those who are kind to those who can do nothing for them.” because I think it’s a great litmus test. And “scrappy souls” is a great moniker too!
If you have people like this in your life, you’re truly blessed. As Molly advises “Hold them close. Love them hard.”
And better still, be the type of person that others want to hang on to.
Molly Burford’s first poetry collection Moments to Hold Close is available now here.
So Agent Orange waddled up to a podium last night and read from the teleprompter about how American elections were “worse than any Third World country.”
If you’re trying to keep score at home, here’s your cheat sheet (no pun intended):
Elections Donald J. Trump won*: fair, secure, no meddling… “perfect”
Election he lost: fraudulent, rigged, rife with cheating and voter fraud, “stolen”
Upcoming elections where the GOP is going to get crushed: “unsafe”
*meaning Electoral College votes – he lost the popular vote in 2016.
As is typically the case, every accusation is a confession. T-Rump urging the Senate to pass the SAVE America Act (a better name would be the Voter Intimidation and Disenfranchisement Act) is a good example:
“How easy is that to do? Unless you want to cheat. The only reason you wouldn’t do it is you want to cheat because your policies are so bad and your candidates are so pathetic that you can’t get elected any other way.”
Bad policies, pathetic candidate, wanting to cheat… yep, that sounds just like the guy who has spent every day of his presidency ignoring laws and screwing over the working class and poor to line his own pockets. And the guy who welcomed Russian interference in the 2016 election.
Donny can delude himself about election fraud all he wants… even most of his minions aren’t buying it. But this is about sowing the seeds of doubt and distrust now, in advance of the mid-terms. He knows they’ll be a referendum on his policies. And he knows that what his feckless Speaker of the House, Mike Johnson said back in February is actually true:
“If we lost the midterms — heaven forbid — if we lost the majority in the House, it would be the end of the Trump presidency in real effect.”
From Holy Mike’s lips to God’s ears. Because the biggest fraud was (and IS) the guy behind the microphone making accusations last night.
No one would be trying to take your vote away from you with this level of intensity if they didn’t understand how important your vote is, how powerful it makes you. Trump always says the quiet part out loud. He’s doing that now. Your vote matters. Prepare to do whatever it takes this fall to cast it. Let’s put a stop to the lies once and for all. — Joyce Vance on her Substack
I am on the email list for a Cincinnati ad agency specializing in social media. No shade to that agency (I signed up for the newsletter), but the general use of the term “creator” in relation to social media sticks in my craw a bit.
Here’s an excerpt from the newsletter:
it’s not just there, it’s everywhere.
If you have carved out a niche — or even a career — on social media, then God bless, and more power to you.
But if you’re just doing “unboxing” videos or livestreaming your video games, what have you created, really? And take that times 10 for anyone simply preening for the camera, knowing that the algorithm will deliver eyeballs for eye candy.
And if you’re not on social media, but you write, or paint, or sculpt, or draw, or sing, or dance… you’re a creator.
Heck, even if your creations are outside the realm of the traditional arts, you’re still a creator. Planting a garden makes you a creator. Decorating a cake for a kid’s birthday (and not as part of some cooking challenge) makes you a creator. Hanging drywall makes you a creator (and keeps you in demand long after social media trends have turned).
We’re all creators. Don’t cede that title to the folks that are mostly in it to monetize your eyeballs.
Another assignment for the holiday weekend, from Don’t Call It Art: “Get offline as much as possible. There’s so much input to be found in the real world outside of the internet. Go old school. Listen to radio shows. Browse the recently returned stacks at your local library. Buy weird old books at thrift shops. Visit a museum you’ve never been to. Find a good record store and chat up the clerks. Interact with real people in meatspace.”
That’s great homework (or rather outside-the-home work) for any weekend, not just holiday weekends.
Your smart phone is making you dumber. The apps are engineered to hook you in and drag you deeper down the well (or cesspool).
Get out. Tune in to what the real world has to offer. Rewire your brain. Find something different, something funky, something fun. And then, as Austin so eloquently puts it “interact with real people in meatspace.”
For the uninitiated:
Make the meatspace a meet space too. Do “social” instead of social media. Your life will feel so much richer for it.
The pixels and data centers and ones and zeros will get along just fine without you. And vice-versa.
If you’re in the Cincinnati area, here’s a reco for your assignment. On Tuesday I went to the inaugural “Lunch Club” at the Mercantile Library downtown.
I had no idea it was the first gathering until I got there and the host mentioned it. To be honest, I’m 50/50 on reading the Mercantile Library’s weekly emails (due to time constraints, not due to disinterest). But I happened to read the one promoting this event and signed up, despite my loner tendencies. That was mostly thanks to Austin Kleon’s encouragement. I met four fine folks, we had lively conversations, and I headed back to work energized.
That’s some pretty good meatspace activity, especially for a vegetarian.
Many moons ago, Nora Guthrie, the daughter of legendary folk singer Woody Guthrie, found a shoebox full of her dad’s lyrics. British punk-folk musician Billy Bragg and the alt-country/Americana band Wilco agreed to put them to music, and an album called Mermaid Avenue was released in 1998 to much critical acclaim.
A couple of weekends ago, Billy Bragg and Wilco finally performed those songs live for the first time ever. You can check out the concert audio here — but note that it will only be available to stream until Thursday.
But that’s not why we’re here. We’re here for the forgotten genius of that era of the band Wilco. His name was Jay Bennett.
As is often the case with bands, there was an acrimonious split. Wilco founder Jeff Tweedy fired Jay.
Which is a shame, because Jay had so much to do with shaping and expanding Wilco’s sound during that era, as a multi-instrumentalist, and engineer, and producer.
According to friends and former band members (Wilco would not comment for this story), Bennett’s contributions helped transition the group from its ragged folk and country roots to the multidimensional pop that gave them critical and commercial flight. — From this 2009 Chicago Magazine article by Mark Guarino
He was part of three Wilco albums: Being There, Summerteeth, and Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. In my humble opinion, that was the best version of the band. And Jay doesn’t get enough credit. Quite to the contrary, he was portrayed as a bit of a villain in the Wilco-authorized movie I Am Trying to Break Your Heart.
It got ugly. Jay eventually sued Jeff for breach of contract. This was in May of 2009. Per Wikipedia: The suit came less than two weeks after Bennett publicly revealed that he needed hip replacement surgery which he could not afford due to his health insurance considering the situation a “pre-existing condition.
And then it just got sad. On May 24, 2009, Bennett died unexpectedly in his sleep… The Champaign County coroner reported about one month later that Bennett’s death was accidental, and was the result of an overdose of the prescription painkillerFentanyl.[12][13] He was wearing a Duragesic patch on his back when his body was found, said Champaign County Coroner Duane Northrup.
Jay needed something for the hip pain. It’s the same way Tom Petty – who did his last tour with a broken hip – died.
28 years after Mermaid Avenue, Jeff Tweedy gave a lovely shout-out to Jay from the stage.
“Jay Bennett was a huge part of all these songs… these songs wouldn’t be here without Jay… He was a big champion of this project… Continue to think about him and continue to remember him, please…”
It’s funny how life paths diverge. Jeff Tweedy has had sustained success for decades with Wilco. Jay Bennett died waiting for a surgery he couldn’t afford. I’m sure both Jeff and Jay wished things had ended differently, if not professionally then at least personally. But I’m glad Jeff paid tribute to Jay at the show. Giving credit where credit was due.
Woody Guthrie’s lyrics were lost for a long time, but finally came to life thanks in a large part to Jay. It’d be a shame if his contribution were lost to the mists of time.
“The great thing about the work that he did is that it’s there for others to hear forever.”
Ken Coomer, Wilco’s former drummer
If you really want to dig deeper, check out this Medium post and the Jay Bennett documentary below.
My wife’s cousin Kelly recently retired from teaching.
(That’s Kelly on the left, when she and Mrs. Dubbatrubba had a Ferris Bueller’s Day Off-style adventure recently.)
She spent 30+ years at Catholic grade schools in the D.C. area.
Over those three-plus decades, thousands of kids crossed paths with her. In the classroom. In the lunchroom. In the hallways. At the school plays, and the sporting events. At Sunday Mass too.
The lessons those kids learned from her didn’t always come from a textbook.
She taught them kindness, by showing up with a smile on her face, even on the tough days.
With her sense of humor, she taught them that learning can be fun.
By being attentive, she let them know they mattered.
By demanding their best effort, she inspired them.
Those lessons don’t stop when the kids move on. They carry them with them, wherever they go, for the rest of their lives.
Kelly’s out of the classroom, but her lessons are still going strong. What an amazing legacy!
I know you’re probably tired of hearing me yammer about some tiny “modern rock” radio station where I worked long, long ago.
Heck, that station has been off the air for 22 years.
It’s so old that it’s now considered “historical.”
Give it a rest already!
But here’s the thing. This past Saturday, the Butler County Historical Society had a 97X “Back to the Future of Rock & Roll” event.
More than one hundred people paid their hard-earned cash to hear more about the station from several folks who worked there: Steve “Bakerman” Baker, Dave Tellmann, Matt Sledge, former student co-producer Jen Dalton (now at Channel 12), and yours truly.
But the Q&A segment at the end was the best part of it, and helps explain why people would cough up cash to attend a history lecture. Because there weren’t that many questions, but there were plenty of testimonials from people in attendance.
“Such a big part of my life.”
“My husband came to Oxford from North Carolina for a job interview, and we moved because he heard 97X.”
“I met my husband at the 97X 10th anniversary concert.”
“The station changed my life.”
“The station saved my life.”
The station’s listenership was tiny. But its impact on those listeners was mighty. The connection was so much stronger than the weak signal. Because we gave listeners what they wanted (music they couldn’t hear anywhere else) and what all of us need (a sense of community).
It meant a lot then. It means even more now that it’s gone.
Here’s a photo of all the 97X alums who were there.
Jen Dalton was an unpaid college intern. The rest of us got a paycheck, but it was below-poverty wages. Yet I wouldn’t trade my time there for a million dollars. Not then, and not now. The people I met during my time there (co-workers and listeners alike) were solid gold.
We loved the music. We had fun playing it. We had free rein creatively – not just live, but also for commercials and promos and contests. And best of all, we knew we were sharing it with people who cared.
Good luck getting anything close to that from cookie cutter corporate radio stations.
It’s why Dave Tellmann and I keep publishing new episodes of our podcast about the station. (Listening links are here.)
I was listening to a different podcast this week where Erykah Badu was quoted as saying you experience two deaths: once when you pass away, and then later when your name is spoken for the last time.
It’s been 16 years and we’re still saying “97X” (with or without the Rainman “BAM!”).
While I was on my “Big Sky Country” trip a couple of weeks ago (see this recent post for more), I simply had to make a pilgrimage to the site of Evel Knievel’s ill-fated Snake River Canyon “Sky Cycle” jump. Or attempted jump, more accurately.
Evel’s name probably doesn’t mean much to this generation, raised on “Dude Perfect” videos. But to men of a certain age — Boomers and Gen X fellas — his name and exploits are etched into our memory banks. He was a daredevil hero to us wee lads. Jumping the fountain at Caesar’s Palace. Jumping cars. Jumping trucks. Jumping buses. Eventually jumping the shark. (Literally – he was supposed to jump 13 sharks in Chicago, but crashed during his practice jump. That wound up being his final stunt attempt.)
He was on ABC’s Wide World of Sports all the time. The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat all rolled up into one star-spangled jumpsuit.
You probably can’t read it on the sign in the photo above, but it list “70 stunts and a world record 433 broken bones…” Watch this clip and you’ll understand the latter part of that equation.
He broke a lot of bones, but he sold a ton of toys sold too!
Even Marvel Comics got in on the action.
Evel’s most successful stunt (133 feet) happened just up the road from me, at Kings Island amusement park, in October of ’75.
But his most famous attempt was more than a year earlier, jumping the Snake River Canyon. 1600 feet. And he originally planned to try it in a motorcycle! His engineer, Bob Truax, talked him out of that. Thus the “Sky Cycle” was born. But the parachute deployed early (some suspect Evel pulled it himself), and Evel crashed into the rocks below.
There’s not much left at the launch site now – just the dirt pile and a couple of concrete footers that once held the ramp.
But it was weirdly moving… maybe even semi-spiritual… when I got to see it. Maybe because every kid wants to fly. Every kid likes to test the limits. And Evel showed us the way.
This YouTube comment sums it up for guys like me:
This song is pure 70s soft rock schmaltz, but somehow it works.
He can climb a mountain
Jump across a winding river
Once he’s made his mind up, there’s nothing he won’t try
There’s something deep inside him
Lusting for the thrills that drive him
Yet he knows someday, he’s gonna have to face, that canyon in the sky…
“Tell me you have a golden retriever without telling me you have a golden retriever.”
Bibo is our official greeter at home. Doesn’t matter if you’ve been gone two weeks or two minutes. He’s always happy to see you. Or to meet you if you’re a stranger. Unfailingly friendly. Loving.
Damian on The Future is forever: “It was a magical time for sure! Just don’t get any paint on that 97X sweatshirt, it’ll bring down the…” Jul 4, 20:44
Andrea J McKiernan on The Future is forever: “I still wear my 97X sweatshirt when I’m painting. I have some amazing memories of those times!” Jul 4, 14:46
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