Rick Horowitz

Obama to Seniors: Here's Some Money. Now Go Away.

             Gordon Goldenage was gallivanting in the garden when Myron the Mailman showed up with the money.

            “Hey, Gordo!” cried Myron, who’d known him forever. “I’ve got some  government checks here for you and the little lady.” (That would be Gladys.)

            “Can’t be,” said Gordon. “We already got our refund.”

            “I’m just telling you what I’m telling you,” Myron replied. “There’s an eagle on the envelope and a check inside -- trust me.”

Regulation? They're Banking on the Status Quo

TO OUR VALUED CUSTOMERS

            These have been turbulent times for the American economy. On Main Street and on Wall Street, the past year has tested the resilience of the greatest wealth-creation engine the world has ever known. Now, as America continues its journey on the path to recovery, we in the financial-services sector want to take this opportunity to speak directly to you the consumer about what we’ve all been through, and what it means going forward.

            First, let us recommit to providing you the kinds of accountable and professional guidance you’ve come to expect from us. Navigating the sometimes treacherous waters of the economy -- exotic investments, complicated home mortgages, impenetrable credit-card provisions and the like -- requires a flexible hand and a sharp eye. Most of all, it requires a total commitment to service.

            That’s why we’re here.

Angst at the ATM: There's High Finance, Then There's Slow Finance

 

           Slice o’ Life No. 682. File Under: Too Wimpy to Survive.

            So there I am, last Saturday afternoon, pulling up to the drive-thru ATM. It’s a perfect late-summer day. It’s also my lucky day: There’s only one car ahead of me.

            Actually, there’s only one car ahead of me -- and one pedestrian. There’s a guy standing there. Mid-40s maybe, in a t-shirt, shorts and sandals. He’s waiting to use the drive-thru, too.

            No problem -- I’ve done that myself from time to time. Call it a walk-thru ATM. So I’ve got two customers ahead of me.

            Except that the guy on foot is waving me past.

These Health-Care Numbers Could Make a Man Sick

             Suddenly, Data Man has a number of problems.

            Or maybe we should put that the other way around: Suddenly, Data Man has a problem of numbers.

            And now we get to see what he’s made of.

            Data Man goes by other names, of course, and by other numbers. The name “Barack Obama,” for instance. The number “44.” But Data Man will do nicely. Has there ever been a president so attuned to, so reliant on, so respectful of the pitter-patter of data points?

            “Show me the facts,” his every utterance suggests. “I’m cooler than ideology. I’m all about reason. I won’t let my beliefs -- or your beliefs, for that matter -- trump the awesome power of evidence.”

            Which makes it a particularly damaging blow when the number crunchers at the Congressional Budget Office (or as it’s always phrased, the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office) take a look at the assortment of health-care-reform plans now floating around the Capitol and declare -- we’re paraphrasing here:

            “Nope.”

Quick on the Draw -- and the Overdraw

             A toast, please, to technology, which makes our lives so much smoother and easier. Faster, and more flexible.

            Without technology, life itself would be a constant struggle. With technology, we’re free to discover new and exciting ways to slip on the banana peel.

            Or am I getting ahead of myself?

Credit Card Summit: "Charge!"

             First thing they did, they tried to charge him for their time. These were busy people, after all. They ran the banks. They issued the credit cards -- millions and millions of credit cards. It wasn’t as if they could drop everything and come rushing to the White House just because the president decided he needed to see them right away.

            So they charged him what their time was worth. (Their time was worth plenty, they all agreed.) Then they tacked on a little extra for the inconvenience. And a little extra on top of that, just because they could; they called it the Presidential Presumption Charge.

G-20: I See England, I See France...

            [Joint Communiqué -- an early draft...]

            We the undersigned signatory nations, having convened here in London as the “Group of 20” for the purpose of discussing the current state of the world economic system, and for the further purpose of considering certain adjustments to that system, which we acknowledge is in crisis, with serious implications for the nations represented here and for the rest of the world as well, do hereby issue this Joint Communiqué to summarize the various conclusions and recommendations arrived at after frank and cordial discussions among all participants.

             Conclusions and Recommendations

            * This mess is not our fault.

Showdown at the Showroom: An Epic Auto-Bailout Poem of Rubber Meeting Road

            In fair Detroit, where motors roar

            And cars roll down assembly lines,

            There was a time when things were great

            And no one saw the warning signs.

            They ruled the roost, they held the heights,

            Their names meant power, strong and free,

            Who could have dreamt that harm would ever come

            To those they called “Big Three”?

 

            ‘Twas GM, Ford and Chrysler, too,

            The titans of a golden age,

            When T-Birds, tailfins, muscle cars

            All strutted proudly on the stage.

Desperately Seeking Soothing

            It came to me in a flash.

            This was unusual. More than unusual, actually -- this was nearly unprecedented. When it comes to the world of economics, to the world of Wall Street and high finance, almost nothing comes to me in a flash -- except for the daily discovery that I don’t have a clue.

            I’m not sure that counts.

            Anyway, this was something else again; this was financial insight of an entirely different order. A chance to turn my prospects around after so many months of merciless meltdown.

            Naturally I wanted to share it with you. After all, we’re in this together, right? Why should I be the only one who profits from my being...a prophet?

            Straws.

Obama's Media Blitz: 57 Channels, One Thing On

             Rrriinnng! Rrriinnng! Rrriin --

            “Yeah, Vern’s Video -- this is Vern.”

            “Oh, good -- you’re open! I wasn’t sure what time you’re open.”

            “Ten minutes ago. So what do you need?”

            “It’s my TV, Vern. I’m having a real problem with my TV.”

            “Yeah?”

            “I think maybe it’s that box thing -- you know, for digital.”

            “The converter box?”

            “The converter box. I can never remember what they call it. My wife and I connected the whole thing a couple of weeks ago -- everybody was saying you’ll lose your signal unless you have the box.”

            “Well, they moved the deadline back a couple months. But if you need it, you might as well -- sooner’s better than later, right?”

            “They can drive you crazy with all these rules! Anyway, that’s when I started noticing it -- after I connected it.”

            “Started noticing what?”

            “Obama.”