Bust Economics,
Moving ‘Beyond Boom and Bust Economics’
to the Economics of Bust
Introduction
The current credit crisis has violently seized the attention of a world enthralled in the American political process. After years of campaigning, the United States succeeded in electing its first African American President. Illinois Senator Barack Obama swept to victory with 53 per cent of the popular vote, heavily defeating incumbent-backed Arizona Senator John McCain of the Republican Party.
The election of Senator Obama as President was a melodrama that involved the world in the minor intrigues of American politics. By the end of the campaign, armchair philosophers knew not only the number of electoral votes by state, but also the number of pledged delegates each state sent to the Democratic National Convention and the margins of victory in each Democratic caucus and primary from Democrats Abroad to the District of Columbia.
Seizing hold of the politics of change, Senator Obama emerged victorious from the lengthy US election process, including the nomination of the Democratic Party, the support of the popular vote and a majority of the Electoral College. After a clear election victory on 4 November in which the Democratic Party claimed the Presidency, but also increased majorities in the House and Senate, much of the American nation was engulfed in an atmosphere of celebratory achievement. Approval ratings for President-elect Obama soared to 79 per cent.
This mood was unequivocally castigated by the volatility and eventual downtown of the financial markets that have marked the worst sell-off since the Great Depression of 1929. This situation has left the lame duck governments of many nations to deal with a financial crisis, the likes of which many in power have never seen. This paper shall examine the crisis, primarily from a British perspective and analyse the actions of the British government in the precipitation and resolution of the crisis. Furthermore, this paper shall analyse the comparisons between Prime Ministers Brown and Major in terms of political solvency. Prime Minister Brown has failed in his efforts to maintain a sound British economy and has fallen into the trap of dealing with his predecessor’s legacy, analogously to Prime Minister Major. This paper shall demonstrate how both failed to be effective leaders and settled for ‘the Road Taken’.
I
The groundwork for the comparison lays in the late 1970’s. Labour Prime Minister Harold Wilson unexpectedly resigned in 1976, leading to the election of Jim Callaghan as the next leader of the Labour Party (and Prime Minister). Labour’s post-war mantra was nationalisation. This only caused trouble as the powerful trades unions insisted on significant wage increases at the drop of a hat. Wilson’s Labour Government of 1964-1970 consistently acceded to the unions’ demands, albeit more begrudgingly as time progressed. The Conservative Party Opposition Leader at the time, Ted Heath, gathered his shadow cabinet at Selsdon on the eve of the general election of 1970 to draw up a manifesto. Referred to as the ‘Selsdon Man’, the Conservative campaign struck a chord with the middle class by promising to reduce union control and apply strict wage controls. Almost as popular, the campaign by the Shadow Secretary of State for Education and Science, Margaret Thatcher, as the ‘Selsdon Woman’ set out to affirm the family values of the Conservative Party and to promote its progress in women’s equality.
Ted Heath’s Conservatives won a narrow majority in the 1970 General Election. Heath’s economic team largely constituted Ian Macleod, who was appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer in Heath’s cabinet. Macleod had laid out plans for strict control of the money supply to control government debt and rampant inflation. Macleod unexpectedly died only a month after entering office. Heath appointed Anthony Barber to replace him, who set about implementing and overseeing the fruition of Macleod’s plans.
By and large, the Tory government adhered to Macleod’s plans, including the abolition of free school milk. Secretary of State for Education and Science, Margaret Thatcher, was charged with the implementation of this unpopular policy. Opposition critics lampooned her as ‘Thatcher the milk snatcher’. For two years, Heath’s government held steadfastly to Macleod’s plans and tight budgets. After nearly 18 months, problems began to arise. The trades unions in many industries, not only the numerous nationalised industries, sought persistent pay rises. This was generally opposed by the tight money policies of the Government and many of the remaining private sector employers were happy to follow suit. Heath staved off major strikes after the first year for annual negotiations (1970-1971), but the unions were out for blood the next year. A faltering economy and the prospect of heavy union action were sufficient to effect a government u-turn. Heath’s government made major policy adjustments to cater to the demands of trades unionists and nullified efforts made towards economy in the prior two years. For the next two year, Heath’s government pursued this line of action. Junior cabinet ministers such as Margaret Thatcher and Sir Keith Joseph were outraged by the u-turn, who felt that the change in policy was a disgrace to the memory of Ian Macleod and signalled weakness of leadership in Heath. After great deliberation, the ‘dries’ decided to remain in cabinet, as their resignation would not have had great effect. In the 1974 General Election campaign, Heath essentially asked the electorate for a do-over. Returning to many of the policies outlined in the Selsdon Manifesto, Heath argued that the trades unions had been too strong a force and asked for another mandate. The election resulted in a hung parliament. Heath tried for days to seek agreements with other parties to allow him to remain in power, but his last hope, the Ulster Unionists, had been deeply offended by some of Heath’s comments on Northern Ireland, severing their perennial coalition in 1970. At last, Heath resigned and Harold Wilson was invited to form Government. Wilson was supported by the Liberals and occasionally by the Scottish Nationalist Party (SNP).
After a few months in government, Wilson called a snap election in the fall of 1974. The Conservatives were taken completely off-guard. Heath penned the election manifesto himself in three days and published it without consultation of the shadow cabinet. The party mustered its forces, but Wilson’s gambit paid off; he was returned with a large majority.
Wilson proceeded to attempt to contain the unions with wage and price controls, but this action only met with crippling strikes. Wilson had already served six years as Prime Minister (1964-1970), and was not especially energetic or thrilled about governance. Nonetheless, Wilson succeeded in surprising the nation with his resignation in 1976. Former Foreign Secretary, Jim Callaghan, was elected his replacement. Callaghan appointed Denis Healey to continue as Chancellor of the Exchequer. Healey continued a programme of massive borrowing, ranging into critically high percentages of GDP. This policy lead to massive inflation. In late 1978, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) stepped in to give the British government a loan. As a condition for the aid, the IMF stipulated specific changes to Healey’s budget. Healey and Callaghan nominally agreed to the alterations via the 1978 mini-budget. Healey then proceeded to micro-manage monetary policy through mini-budgets, eventually scrapping the IMF’s demands by late 1978. Over the winter of 1978, inflation soared and many unions went on strike over the government’s decision to freeze wages. Notably, the Birmingham gravediggers went on strike, along with many local rubbish-collection unions. Whilst the gravediggers were out on strike for little over a week, some rubbish-collectors were out on strike for more than a month, leading to mounds of rubbish and dustbin liners on kerbs throughout the length and breadth of many large cities.
By late 1978, Callaghan had lost his parliamentary majority. The opposition Conservatives now under the leadership of Margaret Thatcher sought to force a general election by tabling a motion of no confidence in the government. In the face of the first no-confidence motion, the Liberal Party formed a pact with Callaghan to keep him in government. By spring 1979, however, the Liberals had deserted Callaghan. When support from the SNP crumbled over Callaghan’s proposed Scotland Act of 1979, Thatcher seized her chance and tabled another motion of no confidence. This time, Callaghan failed to win the confidence of the House and the Government fell.
After a fierce general election campaign, Thatcher succeeded in winning a large majority and defeating Big Jim.
II
Margaret Thatcher promised a revolution in government. The Conservative Manifesto of 1979 built upon the ideas of both Macleod and the monetarist leanings of Thatcher and Joseph. Thatcher faced a critical balancing act as leader of the Conservative Party. As a ‘dry’, and having defeated Ted Heath in a 1975 leadership election, Thatcher tried to avoid alienating the ‘wets’, bringing several prominent ‘wets’ into cabinet.
Thatcher appointed Sir Geoffrey Howe Chancellor of the Exchequer. Thatcher and Howe worked closely to implement tight fiscal policy and to pay-down Britain’s debt. Thatcher also worked closely with her Secretary of State for Industry, Sir Keith Joseph, to put forward new legislation to curtail the powers and legal protections of the trades unions. Both of these policies met with heavy opposition from the trades unions.
Thatcher had agreed to honour the spending commitments made by Callaghan’s government for 1979 and set out with reviews and analyses to prepare for the first Conservative budget in six years. As expected, the budget was severely deflationary and included plans for a defence spending review. As time went by, more and more cuts to the budget were needed.
To the embarrassment of the government, many of the nationalised industries, already unprofitable, fell to the power of the trades unions. The trades unions sought to break Thatcher by ratcheting up the wages of nationalised industries. The nationalised industries, in turn, would be forced to cave in, and, already cash-strapped, turn to the government for more money. Several nationalised industries were already in trouble before Thatcher entered Number 10 , but the target for the unions soon became the National Coal Board (NCB). The NCB had agreed to extensive pay agreements with the unions including scaled pay rises 1981-1982. When the NCB was less eager to be generous in negotiations of autumn 1983, the NUM (National Union of Mineworkers) threatened to strike. This would have caused a significant national crisis, as most of the mined coal was sitting at collieries, not power stations. The nation would have suffered blackouts and perhaps the total failure of the National Power Grid. This alarmed Thatcher and the cabinet and they prepared to be tough the next time round. The government made changes to allow the transfer of more coal to power stations, in the event that lorry drivers went out on sympathy strike with the NUM or NUM picketers sufficiently prevented lorry drivers from reaching pit heads to transport coal.
In the interim, Thatcher faced serious foreign affairs issues. In 1982, the military junta governing Argentina invaded the Falkland Islands. The Falkland Islands are a Crown Dependency in the South Atlantic Ocean. The Argentines also invaded South Georgia Island, a separate dependency much nearer Antarctica. Thatcher despatched a task force to retake the islands that was brilliantly successful. Thatcher succeeded in defending the British people and interests and won much popular support for her courage. She even won the support of far-right wing critic Enoch Powell.
A few months after the war, Thatcher decided to call an election. Having completed most of the government programme and exhausted most bills and initiatives, Thatcher believed that a new mandate would bring freshness to government. The 1983 General Election Campaign was noted for the ineptitude of Thatcher’s opponents. The 1983 Labour Party Manifesto was termed the ‘Longest Suicide Note in History’. The Labour Manifesto advocated more nationalisation and the reversal of ‘Thatcherism’. One of Thatcher’s more famous exchanges with Michael Foot at Prime Ministers Questions ran thus: “For those waiting with bated breath from that most powerful of media catch-phrases, the u-turn, I have a message. You turn if you want to; the Lady’s not for turning. ”
III
The result of the 1983 General Election was no surprise. Labour was wiped out. Thatcher won a landslide victory and redoubled her efforts to, “keep Britain from going red.” The next major challenge to her premiership was the NUM. In pay negotiations late 1984, Arthur Scargill, president of NUM’s national executive, was out for blood. He wanted to demonstrate that above the power of the government was the power of the unions. After farcical negotiations with the NCB, Scargill manœuvred to take strike action. After renewed efforts to reach pay negotiations, the NUM pulled out and a strike ballot was held. Although the sufficient majority required to call a national strike did materialise, Scargill amended the NUM constitution to permit him to call a national strike with the result of the ballot.
In response, Thatcher formed an emergency committee of cabinet to monitor the day-to-day struggles and power issues. The cabinet appointed a more experienced chair of the NCB to aid it in managing functionality. Not all miners went on strike. Only parts of Yorkshire and the Mids went out on strike. Several industries, including dockworkers, went out on sympathy strike. Whilst not all miners were out on strike, flying pickets organised by the NUM national executive effectively blocked roads and closed many borderline pits.
New legislation introduced from the 1979 Manifesto was able to deal with some of the more riotous outbreaks; however, the situation was dire for many months. After the first months, the government was much more able to co-ordinate lorry deliveries to power stations. Also, many miners still went to work during the strike, meaning coal was still being mined to fuel the power stations. During the course of the strike, only a few oil burns were necessitated. As the NUM strike stretched beyond the one year mark, more and more miners went back to work. Eventually, a ballot for stop action was adopted and the NUM national executive was defeated.
Several nationalised industries were revamped and privatised during Thatcher’s second mandate. These included British Petroleum, British Aerospace, British Rail, Westland and British Leyland. The ups and downs of politics were involved throughout; including some scandals concerning Westland plans at the expense of Cabinet minister Paul Channon. Some industries went more smoothly. British Aerospace proved to be the epitomy of success in these endeavours, as it developed to later buy other nationalised industries.
The lead-up to the 1987 General Election was rather anticlimactic. Thatcher faced Labour Leader Neil Kinnock who, whilst superior to Foot, was certainly not her oratorical equal. The Liberal Party continued its alliance with the Social Democratic Party (SDP). The joint leaders of the alliance proved a frequent point of satire for the media, as they would frequently posit differing positions on the topics when independently queried.
IV
In the 1987 General Election, Thatcher and the Conservatives continued to fare well, winning another majority. Notably, the Liberals and SDP merged to form the Liberal Democrats after this election. Although the Tories won another mandate, their majority was reduced.
In her third mandate, Thatcher was primarily troubled by financial issues. After the resignation of Lord Carrington and Francis Pym as successive Foreign Secretaries, she moved Sir Geoffrey Howe to the Foreign Office. In his place, she appointed Nigel Lawson, who went on to serve as the second-longest tenured Chancellor of the Exchequer.
Lawson was not as strict as Howe in control of monetary policy. He was also more pro-European and persuaded Thatcher to agree to the Exchange Rate Mechanism (ERM). The ERM was a scheme put forth by the European Community to progress towards a unified currency by stabilising exchange rate values across the European Community. Each currency had a band width in which the government was to maintain an exchange rate value. Lawson encouraged entry in the ERM by shadowing the Deutsch Mark at DM3 to £1. Because of inflationary pressures in Germany and demand for North Sea oil, the Treasury was forced to buy its own pounds sterling to maintain exchange rate parity. This led to an increase in UK inflation, to which the government responded by raising interest rates, which in turn increased exchange rate values of the pound. Thatcher was unaware of this policy until a public policy briefing brought the anomaly to her attention. Upon entry into the ERM, this policy became quasi-official as the most expedient means by which to remain inside the band width.
The second major economic trouble of this period centred round the community charge. The community charge was proposed as an alternative to incomes tax. It consisted of a flat tax with deductions based on income. The shift in taxation systems caused a public furore when implemented in 1989-1990. In her last days as prime minister, she organised the Persian Gulf War and formed an Anglo-French Alliance to oppose German re-unification. Her greatest threat, however, came from the Home Counties. According to the rules of the Conservative Party, the leader must be re-elected every year. Thatcher remained unchallenged for re-election each year until 1989. In 1989, a backbencher ran against her on principle and won less than ten ballots. In 1990, however, a serious crisis in confidence would emerge. Michael Heseltine, a former junior Cabinet minister with a grudge, ran against her for the party leadership. According to party rules, the leader must win 2/3 the number of total Conservative MP’s. On the first ballot, whilst in France, Thatcher came less than ten ballots short of the necessary super-majority. Upon her return from the conference, she began to form a campaign for the second ballot, but support continued to crumble out from under her. Eventually, the Cabinet suggested that she resign to allow for a suitable Cabinet alternative to Michael Heseltine. She assented, backing Douglas Hurd, the Foreign Secretary. John Major, Chancellor of the Exchequer, also ran. Garnering more support, he achieved a plurality of votes on the next ballot, after which Hurd and Heseltine withdrew from the contest.
V
John Major became Prime Minister in late November 1990, with an economy that was on the verge of recession and in the advanced stages of volatility. Dealing with his own economic heritage left as Chancellor of the Exchequer, Major seemed to have luck on his side the first two years of his premiership. He did, however, make some personnel decisions that revealed his true colours. Whilst generally perceived as a dry because of his status as Margaret Thatcher’s protégé, Major proved himself to have much better wet credentials than previously thought. Major essentially crossed the aisle once anointed Prime Minister. Major abolished the Community Charge. Furthermore, his choices of Norman Lamont as Chancellor of the Exchequer (his own protégé), Sir Malcolm Rifkind at Transport and Michael Heseltine as Deputy Prime Minister put wets in significant places of power within the government. Riding largely on Thatcher’s name, Major called a general election in 1992.
VI
The 1992 General Election Campaign was hard fought. Prime Minister Major and Labour Leader Neil Kinnock were generally considered an equal pairing, whilst Paddy Ashdown was leading the Liberal Democrats in their first general election. An editorial headline the day before the election was entitled, “Will the Last Person in Britain Please Turn out the Lights?” and accompanied by a cartoon of Neil Kinnock entering a room, implying Number 10. This headline heralded a Labour poll lead that seemed to indicate that Neil Kinnock would win the general election. On election night, however, Major achieved a major victory. He won re-election, albeit with a very slim majority. Thatcher hailed the fourth consecutive Conservative win as, ‘the death of socialism in Britain.’
Soon after Major’s victory, however, the rain began to fall. As inflationary pressures in Germany pushed the Deutsche Mark lower, British interest rates and oil reserves attracted more interest. Again, the focus became the ERM. On Black Wednesday, 16 September 1992, the value of the pound sterling against the deutsche mark and other currencies, dropped dramatically as a result of increased inflation figures. In response, the government raised interest rates from 10 per cent to 15 per cent. This had little effect, however, as the value of sterling continued to drop. By the end of the trading day, however, the government was forced to withdraw from the ERM, as it could no longer maintain sterling within the bandwidth. Several other currencies, including the Italian lira, were forced out on the day, and it led to a recession across the European Community.
The European Community brought fruition to its negotiations for a common European currency and more centralised organisation in the form of the Maastricht Treaty. In exchange for agreeing to more pro-European measures and forming the European Union, the United Kingdom was given an exemption from the euro. Whilst Major agreed to ratify the Treaty via Act of Parliament, he opposed a referendum. After these dual fiascos, the Conservatives would not register another poll lead until 2000.
Major increasingly came to be seen as an unpopular and backwards Prime Minister. He was a poor and often boring public speaker, compared with increasingly dramatic Labour and Lib Dem leaders. By 1997, his government had lost its majority in the House and was constantly threatened by motions of no confidence from the Labour benches. Eventually, Major could wait no longer and was forced to call an election for May 1997. No-one expected Major to win. Bookies paid out for Tony Blair a week before the general election.
VII
The Labour Party experienced its lull in 1983. From that point forward, it was building, but very slowly. Neil Kinnock resigned as party leader in 1992 and was replaced by John Smith. Smith unexpectedly died in 1994. With the old guard essentially gone, it was up to the youth of the party to build its own future. The cabal included Tony Blair and Gordon Brown at the head of a fresh movement called ‘New’ Labour. It was their vision to take Labour into the centre of politics and return the party to government. They were aided by Peter Mandelson, a prodigious spin-master and a remarkable election strategist. The group also picked up Alistair Campbell, one of the most promising left-leaning journalists in the country. There immediately emerged the problem of who should lead. There was only one leadership position, so there could be only one leader of the movement. Division within the movement and wider party eventually left the choice up to Peter Mandelson. Mandelson gave the plumb to Tony Blair, and that decision has shaped the whole of British history ever since.
Tony Blair, as leader of the Labour Party, wrested power from the unions and began a headlong rush for the centre, or ‘third way’. Aided by the political guidance of Mandelson, the economic advice of Brown and the speeches of Campbell, Tony Blair was unstoppable. The British people were tired of John Major, but knowing that it was Tony Blair that awaited them made their longing all the more poignant. As the crowds gathered on 2 May 1997, it was to crown Tony Blair the ‘people’s prime minister’. Obamamania cannot hold a candle to the dazzling light that was New Labour, and its radiant source was Tony Blair, trussed up in unforgiving white like a virgin bride on her wedding day. On that warm, sunny day in May 1997, the British people were experiencing a release seven years in the making – for some, eighteen. Tony Blair’s monolithic victory is virtually unparalleled in all of British history, standing as a testament of an inspirational leader to focus the desire of a people into political will. That would be fine if that’s where the speeches ended, if that’s how the story goes, but it doesn’t. Ten short years after that blistering day in May, protesters would be screaming for Blair’s resignation and the banner of New Labour would lie in tatters. That’s why the Conservatives always put the ‘New’ bit in air quotes. They knew it wouldn’t last, they knew that Tony Blair and his merry court of Camelot wouldn’t be able to withstand all the ethical tests to which they were about to be put. Like lambs to the slaughter, inexperienced Labour ministers would time and again resign after the most preventable of crises. Not even the inner circle held firm. Alistair Campbell retired from Number 10 in 2003, his wit all but spent; Peter Mandelson had to resign twice as the result of very public scandals and left the House of Commons behind him. Tony Blair, however, achieved something the equivalent of which Margaret Thatcher only dreamed; he broke the Conservative Party. He broke it not once, nor twice but thrice. After all this political blood-letting, what is the logical result? David Cameron. David Cameron is the dash new leader of the Conservative Party who is now the senior leader of all the British political parties. He has all the flash, bang and panache of Blair, and Labour knows it can’t compete.
VIII
The Labour Government openly acknowledged that it essentially wasted and dithered away its first term in government. This may seem like an astounding claim, but for a party that had not seen government for eighteen years, it must be counted as a compliment that they found their way so quickly. By the time Tony Blair reached his peak performances in the House of Commons, the Labour Government had a laundry list chock-a-block of social welfare and financial reforms to its credit. The essentially steady economic rise of the United Kingdom during this period is quite certainly due to Gordon Brown, Blair’s Chancellor of the Exchequer. By serving the entire length of Blair’s tenure Brown became the longest serving Chancellor of the Exchequer in history.
The salient feature of Blair’s government, aside from the War in Iraq, is that it passed sound finances on to the next government. Blair won an even larger majority in the 2001 General Election and a greatly reduced majority in 2005. Facing calls to resign in all walks of public life, Tony Blair finally resigned in 2007.
Blair’s unopposed replacement has been known as the ‘clunking fist’. More often, though, Gordon Brown has under whelmed audience after audience since his appointment to Number 10.
IX
At the time of the Labour Party Conference 2007, it was rumoured that Brown would call a General Election to seek his own mandate as Prime Minister. When the election call failed to materialise and Brown was seen to blunder the situation, his opponents pounce. The House of Commons is strictly a place of oratory. The House as a body respects those who can command respect. Brown fits into a category of Prime Ministers that does not command respect, in fact, it runs away from him. Brown’s speeches to the House are characterised by markèd Scottish pronunciations, a noted lethargy in his speech and, most damningly of all, a stutter. Gordon Brown is the first Prime Minister to be regularly shouted down in the House in living memory. Consequently, Labour’s poll numbers consistently lag behind the Conservatives by 12-20 points.
Whilst Brown was once seen as a strongman on economics, the collapse of the world economy and its specific severity in Britain has been interpreted by many as a mark against him. It is further noted the incompetence with which the Government manages day-to-day affairs. For instance, in the midst of the credit crisis, several Icelandic banks went bankruptcy. Many local governments had monetary holdings in these banks and to avoid massive disruption of service, the Government used provisions of the Anti-Terrorism, Crime and Security Act (2001) to freeze and administer all Icelandic funds in the UK.
Furthermore, the once-sound budget that paid off its loans from World War II has been replaced by £24bn-plus borrowing. For this reason, confidence in the pound sterling has been wavering, leading to massive losses against the dollar and the euro. Additionally, the government has had to nationalise large parts of the kingdom’s largest and most successful banks, leading to a dissipation of confidence in the British economy.
X
It would appear that Gordon Brown, like John Major, is incapable of following in the footsteps of a national hero. Despite the best of wills and no lack of opportunity, both continued to astound with low levels of ambition and achievement. Margaret Thatcher and John Major will go down in the history books as two of the greatest Prime Ministers in history. Rarely do such figures occur so near each other.
No matter what the weather, Britain will weather the storm to arise from the waves once again. At times like these, it may be tempting to respond, “Oh! To be in England now that war is here!” , but that is not the cause of history and that is not what history teaches us. History is written to inspire the living, not to revere the dead. We must take courage in such troubling times, have faith and act bravely. Margaret Thatcher and Tony Blair gave their service so that others could be free to live in peace and prosperity. Let us not caste aside their work by cowering in fear in some dark and remote corner of the world. Let us work, work like we have never done before, and at the end of the day, we shall have nothing left to fear.
Works Cited
O’Sullivan, John. The President, the Pope, and the Prime Minister. New York: Regnery Publishing, 2007.
Schama, Simon. A History of Britain: the Fate of Empire. New York: Hyperion, 2005.
Thatcher, Margaret. The Downing Street Years. New York: HarperCollins, 1993.
Thatcher, Margaret. The Path to Power. New York: HarperCollins, 1995.
Thatcher, Margaret. Statecraft. New York: HarperCollins, 2002.
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parliament.uk
treasury.gov.uk
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
Informal Research Paper
Yes, We Can
On 19 January 2007, two-hundred-fifty students drearily sloshed into Wellington-Napoleon R-IX High School. Some grumbled about the injustices of the Bush Administration, but few had thoughts of the far-off Presidential election of November 2008. The next day, however, some students had hope. In the coming days and weeks, many candidates announced that they would seek the Presidency. Senators Hillary Rodham Clinton (D-NY) and Barack Obama (D-IL) were the first Democratic frontrunners in what would prove to be the most unpredictable election cycle in history, energising youth right round the nation and forever leaving its mark on the social structures upon which those two-hundred-fifty students had come to rely.
To the diverse merriment and chagrin many, Saturday 20 January 2007, the very next day, held roughly six inches of virgin snowfall to be lustily defiled before nightfall. For many others, and even some in Wellington, Missouri, something life-changing began.
On that Saturday one year and ten months ago [at time of writing], Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton of New York declared she was, “in it to win it.” Standing up for a fearful population, the former First Lady of the United States declared that she would stand up for the oppressed in every corner of America. She promised not just change of course, but a sea change. She called for America to wake up to the realities of the jaundiced Bush Administration. It did not go without notice that she was a she. Women the nation over [and some men] rejoiced at the prospect of a viable female candidate for President.
Women’s rights were on the move. Representative Nancy Pelosi of California became the first female Speaker of the House on 4 January 2007, and Senator Clinton, affectionately referred to by her supporters as ‘Hillary’, essentially promised a win just over two weeks later. The glass ceiling was doomed.
All of this, however, was fine if you were a liberal or a member of one of the old Southern Democrat families. If you were conservative, though, nearly everything made you nauseous. Ever since last November, the Democratic kids have been rubbing their new-found backbone in your nose. The result was a lot of ruffled feathers and poignant pauses. Teachers who wished to hold class had to develop a knack for the appropriate point at which to stop one of these debates before it erupted into an all-out war.
The conservatives had their candidates, too: John McCain, Rudy Giuliani, Mitt Romney and Mike Huckabee. Senator John McCain (R-AZ) was seen by the world as the reasonable choice, but not in Wellington, Missouri. In Wellington, Missouri, the good senator was by far too liberal. Former Mayor of New York City, Rudy Giuliani, was seen as the compromise candidate for whom no one particularly cared. The real race was between former Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney and former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee. Huckabee had home turf advantage, but even the Missouri GOP had to turn its nose up a little at the mention of Arkansas, the long-forgotten lower neighbour. Romney was seen as the successful businessman the party needed at the helm. Many defied their Evangelical roots to support a Mormon, something their neighbours, the Southern Democrats, still cannot fathom.
The teachers were a still more interesting demographic. Most honoured their public salary by keeping their mouths shut on the topic of political endorsements, but there were plenty willing to voice their opinion. The most outspoken were the few conservatives. Their ‘natural’ choice was Governor Romney. He had the familiarity with money to which conservatives are accustomed. The liberal teachers, on the other hand, were much more cynical. They didn’t find Barack Obama the magic ointment so many did. They found Hillary’s experience as First Lady and close association [sic] with Bill Clinton a turnoff. They found John Edwards too squeaky clean. They opted instead for dream candidates like Newt Gingrich and Colin Powell. (One may question, now, how truly liberal they were.) Speaking in dreams and utopian tenets, they refused to speak the same language as the conservatives. This was greatly perplexing, as the debates in which these teachers enjoined never flowed. Each combatant spouted their rhetoric in ineffective volleys, the words barely grazing the other’s façade. Students, however, were much more excitable. The only students who didn’t take sides were either too dense or apathetic. Rhetoric was the staple of ‘debate’. It was quite easy to inflame an entire classroom with one simple assertion. Students were more like rapid dogs and the issues their chew toys.
As winter fell to spring and the school year neared completion, the field of candidates flushed themselves out. There were an astounding fifteen candidates from the two major parties. Clearly, many people thought they could do a better job running the country than George W. Bush. Seventy-three per cent of Americans would not disagree. As the time went by, the hustle and bustle of end of term festivities clogged the minds of the unusually-hormonal angsty teens. Relationships blossomed and then virulently combusted just as quickly. Cheerleaders stabbed each other’s backs. Play cast members spread rumours. Kaitlin broke up with Paul. Angsty, angsty teenagers.
Summer proceeded to speed by like Superman on a life or death mission. Students had scarcely settled into their balanced routine of lounging, sleeping and eating when school resumed. A year ago, the general political disposition of the school could be safely given at sixty-forty Republican to Democrat. Now, the atmosphere was quite different. The funny thing about time is that it clears the air. Whilst the students were eager to resume their ‘debates’, the ground had perceptibly shifted. There was the distinct scent of liberalia in the air, and the liberals were out for blood. By embracing Senator Obama, the true liberals succeeded in driving away the traditional Southern Democrats. This victory was heralded by the trouncing of both conservatives and centrists in the renewed ‘debates’.
All the while, the Presidential Debates within each party were gearing up. Most partisans on both sides were holding out for the debates to finally select their plumb candidate. Many were forced to consolidate the field to the realm of frontrunners. Supporters of Dennis Kucinich and Chris Dodd were forced to consider alternatives such as John Edwards and Hillary Clinton. At this stage, everyone expected Hillary to be President. All the polls indicated that she had the race in the bag, but things fell apart.
If there were to be a Democratic candidate for President acceptable to the people of Wellington, Missouri, that candidate would be Hillary Clinton. She had the popular appeal of the rural vote. Missouri still had fond memories of her husband.
As students chose up sides within the parties, clear discrepancies were reached. A set of frontrunners were often reduced to two candidates as students learnt to develop a list of preferences. Soon, liberal versus conservative became a brace of duels between Hillary and Barack, and McCain and Romney. The teachers still preferred Governor Romney and, when pressed, Senator Clinton. It became harder and harder to find unconvinced voters and campaigning lost its appeal in favour of reinvigourated ‘debates’. Teachers now became active referees in the wars of words, occasionally required to throw a punch of their own.
As the debate season wound into Christmas holiday, the politicking was put on hold. Students enjoyed this time off to recuperate from the wounds of the semester and try to make sense of what was going on in the world. Just north of the border, the voters of Iowa were waiting to give the nation the shock of a lifetime. In the span of one hour, the voters of Iowa turned the politics of both parties upside down. On the Democratic side, Senator Barack Obama and former Senator John Edwards dealt an upsetting blow to the Clinton campaign, whilst on the Republican side, Governor Huckabee stole the show. Tables turned and the old regime won-out in New Hampshire, but the death knell had been sounded for the establishment. The cult of change was born.
Driving a solid wedge between the national Democratic Party, the Obama-Clinton rift was tangible at the lowest level. As primary polling data would reveal, the split amongst youth was something on the order of a seventy-thirty split in favour of Obama. The state party would only lend its support to Senator Obama by one per cent. On the Republican side, Election Day was hotly contested, too. Senator John McCain only barely managed to edge out Governors Romney and Huckabee.
As Missouri’s picks became evident, those that cared began to centralise round a single candidate, whilst those that did not returned to their lair of apathy. With each passing primary, hopes were raised and dashed. Students lived vicariously through various news organisations and travelled the nation via political campaigns. The party nominees would not be settled until the late spring, and election fever continued to build.
Another summer came and the cares of electioneering were forgotten. The brief respite was cut short by the Party Conventions. After the weekly salvos of propaganda, the campaign began again in earnest. The battle for hearts and minds played out whilst students returned to school.
The departure of a class left a clear void in the Democratic establishment. When last polled in February, the high school registered fifty-five per cent Democratic to forty-five per cent Republican. The new order saw a drastic shift to seventy per cent Republican and thirty per cent Democratic. This fall was echoed by the turn of Missouri to the McCain camp in the general election. Missouri, however, was on the losing side. The Republicans could be bitter, but the Democrats once again had reason to gloat. The end of perhaps the longest Presidential campaign in history left the student body exhausted, but better informed and forever changed. They knew that for the first time in their lives, they mattered. They had cared. They had acted, “and that has made all the difference.”*
*from The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
On 19 January 2007, two-hundred-fifty students drearily sloshed into Wellington-Napoleon R-IX High School. Some grumbled about the injustices of the Bush Administration, but few had thoughts of the far-off Presidential election of November 2008. The next day, however, some students had hope. In the coming days and weeks, many candidates announced that they would seek the Presidency. Senators Hillary Rodham Clinton (D-NY) and Barack Obama (D-IL) were the first Democratic frontrunners in what would prove to be the most unpredictable election cycle in history, energising youth right round the nation and forever leaving its mark on the social structures upon which those two-hundred-fifty students had come to rely.
To the diverse merriment and chagrin many, Saturday 20 January 2007, the very next day, held roughly six inches of virgin snowfall to be lustily defiled before nightfall. For many others, and even some in Wellington, Missouri, something life-changing began.
On that Saturday one year and ten months ago [at time of writing], Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton of New York declared she was, “in it to win it.” Standing up for a fearful population, the former First Lady of the United States declared that she would stand up for the oppressed in every corner of America. She promised not just change of course, but a sea change. She called for America to wake up to the realities of the jaundiced Bush Administration. It did not go without notice that she was a she. Women the nation over [and some men] rejoiced at the prospect of a viable female candidate for President.
Women’s rights were on the move. Representative Nancy Pelosi of California became the first female Speaker of the House on 4 January 2007, and Senator Clinton, affectionately referred to by her supporters as ‘Hillary’, essentially promised a win just over two weeks later. The glass ceiling was doomed.
All of this, however, was fine if you were a liberal or a member of one of the old Southern Democrat families. If you were conservative, though, nearly everything made you nauseous. Ever since last November, the Democratic kids have been rubbing their new-found backbone in your nose. The result was a lot of ruffled feathers and poignant pauses. Teachers who wished to hold class had to develop a knack for the appropriate point at which to stop one of these debates before it erupted into an all-out war.
The conservatives had their candidates, too: John McCain, Rudy Giuliani, Mitt Romney and Mike Huckabee. Senator John McCain (R-AZ) was seen by the world as the reasonable choice, but not in Wellington, Missouri. In Wellington, Missouri, the good senator was by far too liberal. Former Mayor of New York City, Rudy Giuliani, was seen as the compromise candidate for whom no one particularly cared. The real race was between former Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney and former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee. Huckabee had home turf advantage, but even the Missouri GOP had to turn its nose up a little at the mention of Arkansas, the long-forgotten lower neighbour. Romney was seen as the successful businessman the party needed at the helm. Many defied their Evangelical roots to support a Mormon, something their neighbours, the Southern Democrats, still cannot fathom.
The teachers were a still more interesting demographic. Most honoured their public salary by keeping their mouths shut on the topic of political endorsements, but there were plenty willing to voice their opinion. The most outspoken were the few conservatives. Their ‘natural’ choice was Governor Romney. He had the familiarity with money to which conservatives are accustomed. The liberal teachers, on the other hand, were much more cynical. They didn’t find Barack Obama the magic ointment so many did. They found Hillary’s experience as First Lady and close association [sic] with Bill Clinton a turnoff. They found John Edwards too squeaky clean. They opted instead for dream candidates like Newt Gingrich and Colin Powell. (One may question, now, how truly liberal they were.) Speaking in dreams and utopian tenets, they refused to speak the same language as the conservatives. This was greatly perplexing, as the debates in which these teachers enjoined never flowed. Each combatant spouted their rhetoric in ineffective volleys, the words barely grazing the other’s façade. Students, however, were much more excitable. The only students who didn’t take sides were either too dense or apathetic. Rhetoric was the staple of ‘debate’. It was quite easy to inflame an entire classroom with one simple assertion. Students were more like rapid dogs and the issues their chew toys.
As winter fell to spring and the school year neared completion, the field of candidates flushed themselves out. There were an astounding fifteen candidates from the two major parties. Clearly, many people thought they could do a better job running the country than George W. Bush. Seventy-three per cent of Americans would not disagree. As the time went by, the hustle and bustle of end of term festivities clogged the minds of the unusually-hormonal angsty teens. Relationships blossomed and then virulently combusted just as quickly. Cheerleaders stabbed each other’s backs. Play cast members spread rumours. Kaitlin broke up with Paul. Angsty, angsty teenagers.
Summer proceeded to speed by like Superman on a life or death mission. Students had scarcely settled into their balanced routine of lounging, sleeping and eating when school resumed. A year ago, the general political disposition of the school could be safely given at sixty-forty Republican to Democrat. Now, the atmosphere was quite different. The funny thing about time is that it clears the air. Whilst the students were eager to resume their ‘debates’, the ground had perceptibly shifted. There was the distinct scent of liberalia in the air, and the liberals were out for blood. By embracing Senator Obama, the true liberals succeeded in driving away the traditional Southern Democrats. This victory was heralded by the trouncing of both conservatives and centrists in the renewed ‘debates’.
All the while, the Presidential Debates within each party were gearing up. Most partisans on both sides were holding out for the debates to finally select their plumb candidate. Many were forced to consolidate the field to the realm of frontrunners. Supporters of Dennis Kucinich and Chris Dodd were forced to consider alternatives such as John Edwards and Hillary Clinton. At this stage, everyone expected Hillary to be President. All the polls indicated that she had the race in the bag, but things fell apart.
If there were to be a Democratic candidate for President acceptable to the people of Wellington, Missouri, that candidate would be Hillary Clinton. She had the popular appeal of the rural vote. Missouri still had fond memories of her husband.
As students chose up sides within the parties, clear discrepancies were reached. A set of frontrunners were often reduced to two candidates as students learnt to develop a list of preferences. Soon, liberal versus conservative became a brace of duels between Hillary and Barack, and McCain and Romney. The teachers still preferred Governor Romney and, when pressed, Senator Clinton. It became harder and harder to find unconvinced voters and campaigning lost its appeal in favour of reinvigourated ‘debates’. Teachers now became active referees in the wars of words, occasionally required to throw a punch of their own.
As the debate season wound into Christmas holiday, the politicking was put on hold. Students enjoyed this time off to recuperate from the wounds of the semester and try to make sense of what was going on in the world. Just north of the border, the voters of Iowa were waiting to give the nation the shock of a lifetime. In the span of one hour, the voters of Iowa turned the politics of both parties upside down. On the Democratic side, Senator Barack Obama and former Senator John Edwards dealt an upsetting blow to the Clinton campaign, whilst on the Republican side, Governor Huckabee stole the show. Tables turned and the old regime won-out in New Hampshire, but the death knell had been sounded for the establishment. The cult of change was born.
Driving a solid wedge between the national Democratic Party, the Obama-Clinton rift was tangible at the lowest level. As primary polling data would reveal, the split amongst youth was something on the order of a seventy-thirty split in favour of Obama. The state party would only lend its support to Senator Obama by one per cent. On the Republican side, Election Day was hotly contested, too. Senator John McCain only barely managed to edge out Governors Romney and Huckabee.
As Missouri’s picks became evident, those that cared began to centralise round a single candidate, whilst those that did not returned to their lair of apathy. With each passing primary, hopes were raised and dashed. Students lived vicariously through various news organisations and travelled the nation via political campaigns. The party nominees would not be settled until the late spring, and election fever continued to build.
Another summer came and the cares of electioneering were forgotten. The brief respite was cut short by the Party Conventions. After the weekly salvos of propaganda, the campaign began again in earnest. The battle for hearts and minds played out whilst students returned to school.
The departure of a class left a clear void in the Democratic establishment. When last polled in February, the high school registered fifty-five per cent Democratic to forty-five per cent Republican. The new order saw a drastic shift to seventy per cent Republican and thirty per cent Democratic. This fall was echoed by the turn of Missouri to the McCain camp in the general election. Missouri, however, was on the losing side. The Republicans could be bitter, but the Democrats once again had reason to gloat. The end of perhaps the longest Presidential campaign in history left the student body exhausted, but better informed and forever changed. They knew that for the first time in their lives, they mattered. They had cared. They had acted, “and that has made all the difference.”*
*from The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
Monday, October 6, 2008
Personal Essay
“I Can’t Believe I Ate the Whole Thing!”*
My mother and father always had a dream. Paragons of the foodservice industry for decades, they had served their time in apprenticeship. They had even done their shtick as managers up and down both Florida’s coasts, which is why, given the opportunity, they upped roots and came to Missouri: to follow the dream.
That lofty dream was to run their own business. They purchased the G&S General Store in the sleepy burg of Napoleon, Missouri, and the work that was our life in Napoleon began. Napoleon is a quiet hamlet, boasting roughly 219 residents. According to Wikipedia, about twenty per cent of those 219 residents are below the poverty line. Having lived there, this fact is quite evident. The have-nots don’t just outnumber the haves – they are the population. Sure the haves exist, but they aren’t that rich. Those left in the middle class are expected to be as pious and charitable as possible. It’s the sort of place where membership of the Republican Party and an inbred hatred of learning may be assumed. Few children’s dreams are loftier than running the family farm, and the truly ambitious go to college to become football coaches - quintessential Americana.
I was born two years after my parents’ migration, and quickly learnt the meaning of hard work. Raised ‘over the shop’, I came to appreciate all business dealings. As I grew, I took on more roles in the operation of the store. We dealt in all variety of local needs: milk, eggs, bread, deli meats, groceries, some produce, my mother’s cinnamon rolls, and cigarettes. Everyone in town knew everyone else; we were the exception. We only knew our customers by face or check-stub; they knew each other by great-grandparents, of which it was a proud accomplishment to have no fewer than eight.
My first task was pricing and stocking groceries. There were delivery trucks that would arrive with weekly rations of chips, meat, dairy, candy and cigarettes. Locals would procure eggs and seasonal produce. That means we had to buy everything else. It would not be an exaggeration to say that I grew up in Price Chopper and Wal-Mart. It was not unusual for the list to be two full pages long – with two columns. Price Chopper would invariably be first. We could easily spend an hour and a half and three cart-loads in the store. It was rare to have a grocery bill under $200. Then, Wal-Mart would usually be necessary. Wal-Mart appeared to offer seasonal items more cheaply and had all the requisite paper supplies for our buxom business.
The Friday-night routine would often run: close shop at seven, drive to Blue Springs for dinner at seven thirty, Price Chopper from eight thirty to ten, and Wal-Mart from ten to ten thirty or ten forty-five – never eleven. We would then drive the thirty minutes home and unload. The unloading of groceries is a monumental task that deserves a national memorial devoted to it. One person can only carry so many sacks – especially when that person’s parents insist on paper bags. Then, the receipt was pored over and prices set. Groceries were priced, stocked, and I went to bed.
Some of the best jobs – and the most groceries – came from my mother’s catering. The former director of foodservice at UMKC, my mother was on top of catering. She could plan every last detail and knew instantaneously how many employees she would need for each job. We had a motley hodgepodge of clients. We had regulars and line-item gigs. This is how I met the most people in my early life and, therefore, how I learnt to judge character and determined how I ought to behave in public. To this day, snap judgements about whether a new acquaintance would be worth catering for still pop into my head: too wishy-washy, too mean, too rude, too drunk, too needy, just right. Likewise, I always feel the urge to fill people’s water glasses in a restaurant.
Our most stable customer was, by convention, referred to as the Saturday Night Supper Club. The Supper Club was actually a group from a church called Israel’s Gathering, an offshoot of the old Mormon Church. Every month, they had a supper club that would join together and dine out. Eventually, this group became so large that they thought they’d try a banquet catered-in as opposed to filling an entire restaurant. We were their first choice, and they never looked back. As the years went on, the Supper Club developed its own program aside from the banquet and moved from one Saturday every other month to the second Saturday of every month.
This brings us to the incident in question. Picture it: Thanksgiving in Napoleon 1999**. The week of Thanksgiving was affectionately referred to as ‘hell week’. For regular Thanksgiving seasons, my mother would be responsible for about 50 pies, 20 turkey dinners, Sunday Lunch Special at the store, most of the turkey dinner at our church, and endless mounds of three-bean salad. This year, it just so happened that the Saturday Night Supper Club had their banquet the evening before d-day (Sunday). Of course, they wanted the seasonal fare, so add a few more turkeys and a dozen pies to the above list and you get hell week.
Thanks to my mother’s foodservice training and expertise, everything went without a hitch. People came all the week before to pick up order after confounded order. Gradually, there was light at the end of the tunnel. This Thanksgiving, however, my mother had one fault: she decided to get creative. After fifty years of pumpkin pie out the wazoo, she took the liberty of making only one pumpkin pie for the Supper Club, whilst making a fabulous array of other delicacies: custard pie, strawberry-rhubarb pie, gooseberry pie, apple pie, peach pie, cherry pie, banana cream pie, coconut cream pie, chocolate cream pie, lemon meringue pie, etc. At the banquet, however, it appeared that no-one shared my mother’s estimation of pumpkin pie: they all wanted some. With one pie, we ran out after serving dessert to the first table. What followed was the ridiculous spectacle of a foodservice professional reasoning with people about what type of pie they might like in secondment to pumpkin pie. We had plenty of servings left and they were dished up into carry-out containers and stacked in buss tubs for ease of transport.
After cleaning up from the banquet, I headed upstairs to make a feeble attempt at dinner before collapsing in my bed. My parents were still cleaning up from the banquet and preparing for the next day’s turkey dinners – probably an all-night affair. After diligent searching, high and low, my only recourse from starvation was the bus tub full of desserts. As I had not eaten all day, I was rather hungry. Also, I objected to pie crust, so as I consumed the guts slice after slice, I left each crust perfectly in place – even lattice pies. I lumbered off to bed and fell into a satisfying sleep.
The next morning, I needed breakfast before church, so I consumed more slices of pie. After church, I high-tailed it home to avoid working the laborious turkey dinner, choosing instead to cashier the lunch rush. On sell-out days like this, it was not uncommon to have to sell our own lunches. This particular Thanksgiving, such was true. Once done with cashiering and in search of lunch, I was forced to resort, yet again, to the bufs tub of pies. After this stint, I had sufficiently finished off all of the pies, leaving a pristine collection of white carry-out containers, aligned en pointe, containing unmolested servings of pie crust. Pleased with my work, I decided to appropriate myself a nap.
Whilst all this was going on, there were fundamental logistical problems with the turkey dinner at church. Although my mom provided most of the food, the church ladies served and organized it. It was clear that they never would have made it at UMKC foodservice when, in the course of twenty minutes, they ran out of turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, dressing, and cranberry sauce – in short, they ran out of turkey dinner, quite the problem for a turkey dinner. In proper form, they rang my mother, who instantly sprang into action. After solving the church crisis in fifteen minutes, my parents sat down to wash lunch dishes. The phone rang again. It now seemed that the church had run out of pie. Having actually planned for the church to run out of pie, she was quite pleased with herself as she ran upstairs to retrieve the bus tub full of pies from the kitchen table. As the church was notorious for not returning our wares, my mother began sacking the carry-out containers. As she placed the last container into a sack, she decided that it felt quite light and that she should probably reserve this stunted serving. Opening the container after seeing the church people off, she was horrified to find a perfectly unmolested serving of lattice pie crust. She went on, however, pleased in her mind that she had averted this narrow catastrophe.
When my mother asked at dinner whether I knew anything about the gutted pie, I could only jubilantly respond: “They were all gutted.”
My mother has long wondered just what happened that Thanksgiving Day when the church turkey dinner ran out of turkey dinner, and when, upon inspecting their newly-gotten booty of dessert servings, the unbecoming church ladies opened container after container of pie crust, but answer came there none.
*Alka-seltzer marketing slogan
**In memory of Estelle Getty, famous for her role as Sofia Patrillo on The Golden Girls.
My mother and father always had a dream. Paragons of the foodservice industry for decades, they had served their time in apprenticeship. They had even done their shtick as managers up and down both Florida’s coasts, which is why, given the opportunity, they upped roots and came to Missouri: to follow the dream.
That lofty dream was to run their own business. They purchased the G&S General Store in the sleepy burg of Napoleon, Missouri, and the work that was our life in Napoleon began. Napoleon is a quiet hamlet, boasting roughly 219 residents. According to Wikipedia, about twenty per cent of those 219 residents are below the poverty line. Having lived there, this fact is quite evident. The have-nots don’t just outnumber the haves – they are the population. Sure the haves exist, but they aren’t that rich. Those left in the middle class are expected to be as pious and charitable as possible. It’s the sort of place where membership of the Republican Party and an inbred hatred of learning may be assumed. Few children’s dreams are loftier than running the family farm, and the truly ambitious go to college to become football coaches - quintessential Americana.
I was born two years after my parents’ migration, and quickly learnt the meaning of hard work. Raised ‘over the shop’, I came to appreciate all business dealings. As I grew, I took on more roles in the operation of the store. We dealt in all variety of local needs: milk, eggs, bread, deli meats, groceries, some produce, my mother’s cinnamon rolls, and cigarettes. Everyone in town knew everyone else; we were the exception. We only knew our customers by face or check-stub; they knew each other by great-grandparents, of which it was a proud accomplishment to have no fewer than eight.
My first task was pricing and stocking groceries. There were delivery trucks that would arrive with weekly rations of chips, meat, dairy, candy and cigarettes. Locals would procure eggs and seasonal produce. That means we had to buy everything else. It would not be an exaggeration to say that I grew up in Price Chopper and Wal-Mart. It was not unusual for the list to be two full pages long – with two columns. Price Chopper would invariably be first. We could easily spend an hour and a half and three cart-loads in the store. It was rare to have a grocery bill under $200. Then, Wal-Mart would usually be necessary. Wal-Mart appeared to offer seasonal items more cheaply and had all the requisite paper supplies for our buxom business.
The Friday-night routine would often run: close shop at seven, drive to Blue Springs for dinner at seven thirty, Price Chopper from eight thirty to ten, and Wal-Mart from ten to ten thirty or ten forty-five – never eleven. We would then drive the thirty minutes home and unload. The unloading of groceries is a monumental task that deserves a national memorial devoted to it. One person can only carry so many sacks – especially when that person’s parents insist on paper bags. Then, the receipt was pored over and prices set. Groceries were priced, stocked, and I went to bed.
Some of the best jobs – and the most groceries – came from my mother’s catering. The former director of foodservice at UMKC, my mother was on top of catering. She could plan every last detail and knew instantaneously how many employees she would need for each job. We had a motley hodgepodge of clients. We had regulars and line-item gigs. This is how I met the most people in my early life and, therefore, how I learnt to judge character and determined how I ought to behave in public. To this day, snap judgements about whether a new acquaintance would be worth catering for still pop into my head: too wishy-washy, too mean, too rude, too drunk, too needy, just right. Likewise, I always feel the urge to fill people’s water glasses in a restaurant.
Our most stable customer was, by convention, referred to as the Saturday Night Supper Club. The Supper Club was actually a group from a church called Israel’s Gathering, an offshoot of the old Mormon Church. Every month, they had a supper club that would join together and dine out. Eventually, this group became so large that they thought they’d try a banquet catered-in as opposed to filling an entire restaurant. We were their first choice, and they never looked back. As the years went on, the Supper Club developed its own program aside from the banquet and moved from one Saturday every other month to the second Saturday of every month.
This brings us to the incident in question. Picture it: Thanksgiving in Napoleon 1999**. The week of Thanksgiving was affectionately referred to as ‘hell week’. For regular Thanksgiving seasons, my mother would be responsible for about 50 pies, 20 turkey dinners, Sunday Lunch Special at the store, most of the turkey dinner at our church, and endless mounds of three-bean salad. This year, it just so happened that the Saturday Night Supper Club had their banquet the evening before d-day (Sunday). Of course, they wanted the seasonal fare, so add a few more turkeys and a dozen pies to the above list and you get hell week.
Thanks to my mother’s foodservice training and expertise, everything went without a hitch. People came all the week before to pick up order after confounded order. Gradually, there was light at the end of the tunnel. This Thanksgiving, however, my mother had one fault: she decided to get creative. After fifty years of pumpkin pie out the wazoo, she took the liberty of making only one pumpkin pie for the Supper Club, whilst making a fabulous array of other delicacies: custard pie, strawberry-rhubarb pie, gooseberry pie, apple pie, peach pie, cherry pie, banana cream pie, coconut cream pie, chocolate cream pie, lemon meringue pie, etc. At the banquet, however, it appeared that no-one shared my mother’s estimation of pumpkin pie: they all wanted some. With one pie, we ran out after serving dessert to the first table. What followed was the ridiculous spectacle of a foodservice professional reasoning with people about what type of pie they might like in secondment to pumpkin pie. We had plenty of servings left and they were dished up into carry-out containers and stacked in buss tubs for ease of transport.
After cleaning up from the banquet, I headed upstairs to make a feeble attempt at dinner before collapsing in my bed. My parents were still cleaning up from the banquet and preparing for the next day’s turkey dinners – probably an all-night affair. After diligent searching, high and low, my only recourse from starvation was the bus tub full of desserts. As I had not eaten all day, I was rather hungry. Also, I objected to pie crust, so as I consumed the guts slice after slice, I left each crust perfectly in place – even lattice pies. I lumbered off to bed and fell into a satisfying sleep.
The next morning, I needed breakfast before church, so I consumed more slices of pie. After church, I high-tailed it home to avoid working the laborious turkey dinner, choosing instead to cashier the lunch rush. On sell-out days like this, it was not uncommon to have to sell our own lunches. This particular Thanksgiving, such was true. Once done with cashiering and in search of lunch, I was forced to resort, yet again, to the bufs tub of pies. After this stint, I had sufficiently finished off all of the pies, leaving a pristine collection of white carry-out containers, aligned en pointe, containing unmolested servings of pie crust. Pleased with my work, I decided to appropriate myself a nap.
Whilst all this was going on, there were fundamental logistical problems with the turkey dinner at church. Although my mom provided most of the food, the church ladies served and organized it. It was clear that they never would have made it at UMKC foodservice when, in the course of twenty minutes, they ran out of turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, dressing, and cranberry sauce – in short, they ran out of turkey dinner, quite the problem for a turkey dinner. In proper form, they rang my mother, who instantly sprang into action. After solving the church crisis in fifteen minutes, my parents sat down to wash lunch dishes. The phone rang again. It now seemed that the church had run out of pie. Having actually planned for the church to run out of pie, she was quite pleased with herself as she ran upstairs to retrieve the bus tub full of pies from the kitchen table. As the church was notorious for not returning our wares, my mother began sacking the carry-out containers. As she placed the last container into a sack, she decided that it felt quite light and that she should probably reserve this stunted serving. Opening the container after seeing the church people off, she was horrified to find a perfectly unmolested serving of lattice pie crust. She went on, however, pleased in her mind that she had averted this narrow catastrophe.
When my mother asked at dinner whether I knew anything about the gutted pie, I could only jubilantly respond: “They were all gutted.”
My mother has long wondered just what happened that Thanksgiving Day when the church turkey dinner ran out of turkey dinner, and when, upon inspecting their newly-gotten booty of dessert servings, the unbecoming church ladies opened container after container of pie crust, but answer came there none.
*Alka-seltzer marketing slogan
**In memory of Estelle Getty, famous for her role as Sofia Patrillo on The Golden Girls.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Notes....
Just a few facts I forgot to mention in my last post: traffic led to the crash of the house.gov website, $1.2 trillion were squeezed out of the US economy.
Emergency Economic Stabilisation Act 2008
Several factors combined to create the financial disaster that was today. I hope this summary provides you the basic overview to satisfy your curiosity. If it does not, links will follow.
The troubles were mounting in the US as Congress was to take up HR 3997 on Monday. HR 3997 was a companion bill to S.3604, sponsored by Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid (D-NV). HR 3997, sponsored by House Ways and Means Committee Chair Rep Charles Rangel (D-NY) came to a vote on third reading today. The bill failed to pass with ayes to the right, 205, noes to the left, 228, and one abstention. By party, 140 Democrats supported the bill whilst 95 opposed it. On the GOP side, 65 Republicans supported the bill whilst 133 opposed it. One Republican abstained from voting.
From a local aspect, Missouri’s nine Representatives voted 4-5 against the bill. Those in support were Democrats Russ Carnahan (MO-3) and Ike Skelton (MO-4) and Republicans Jo Ann Emerson (MO-8) and Minority Whip Roy Blunt (MO-7), who voted with the party leadership. Those opposed were Democrats Lacy Clay (MO-1) and the Rev Emanuel Cleaver (MO-5) and Republicans Todd Akin (MO-2), Sam Graves (MO-6) and Kenny Hulshof (MO-9). Rep Hulshof is the Republican candidate in the Missouri gubernatorial race. The latest poll, dating from 24 September puts Hulshof 14 points behind current Missouri Attorney General Jay Nixon. Nixon has not commented officially on the bill, but both his campaign and the Missouri Democratic Party have been critical of Hulshof’s voting record, especially when it comes to the economy.
After the bill’s stunning defeat, global markets tumbled. European markets had a rough day, even though they closed before the House vote. Benelux bank and insurance giant Fortis received a $16 million injection from the governments of the Netherlands, Belgium and Luxembourg. British bank Bradford & Bingley was nationalised today with the $40 billion savings department sold to Spanish retail bank Santander Group. Earlier today, Wachovia was saved by a buy-out from cash-strapped Citigroup. After the news of the House vote around 15h00 EST, the Dow-Jones Industrial Average fell 777.68 points (6.98%) to 10,365.45. This sell-off set the record for the largest one day sell-off in the market’s history. Likewise, the Nasdaq fell 9.14%, the S&P 500 8.81% and the Toronto Stock Exchange (TSX) fell 840.93 points (6.9%), also setting the record for largest sell-off in Canadian history. In commodities trading, light crude fell to $95 a barrel whilst gold rose $5.40 to $894.40 per ounce. In the last hours of trading, the dollar fell to €0,70 (euro), 55p (GBP) and C$1.03 (CAD).
Markets worldwide are expected to suffer. The Australian banking authorities have banned short-selling for 30 days to fight the panic, but in the first 30 minutes of trading, the S&P/ASX200 fell 254.7 points. The Tokyo Stock Exchange fell 57.71 in the same time and the Hang Seng Index (Hong Kong) fell 801.41 points.
Sources
bbc.co.uk, cbc.ca, cnn.com, wikipedia.org, house.org, senate.org, abc.net.au, missouridems.org, jaynixon.org, finance.google.com, x-rates.com, djindexes.com, mogop.org, kenny08.org, hkex.com.hk, tse.or.jp, asx.com.au
The troubles were mounting in the US as Congress was to take up HR 3997 on Monday. HR 3997 was a companion bill to S.3604, sponsored by Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid (D-NV). HR 3997, sponsored by House Ways and Means Committee Chair Rep Charles Rangel (D-NY) came to a vote on third reading today. The bill failed to pass with ayes to the right, 205, noes to the left, 228, and one abstention. By party, 140 Democrats supported the bill whilst 95 opposed it. On the GOP side, 65 Republicans supported the bill whilst 133 opposed it. One Republican abstained from voting.
From a local aspect, Missouri’s nine Representatives voted 4-5 against the bill. Those in support were Democrats Russ Carnahan (MO-3) and Ike Skelton (MO-4) and Republicans Jo Ann Emerson (MO-8) and Minority Whip Roy Blunt (MO-7), who voted with the party leadership. Those opposed were Democrats Lacy Clay (MO-1) and the Rev Emanuel Cleaver (MO-5) and Republicans Todd Akin (MO-2), Sam Graves (MO-6) and Kenny Hulshof (MO-9). Rep Hulshof is the Republican candidate in the Missouri gubernatorial race. The latest poll, dating from 24 September puts Hulshof 14 points behind current Missouri Attorney General Jay Nixon. Nixon has not commented officially on the bill, but both his campaign and the Missouri Democratic Party have been critical of Hulshof’s voting record, especially when it comes to the economy.
After the bill’s stunning defeat, global markets tumbled. European markets had a rough day, even though they closed before the House vote. Benelux bank and insurance giant Fortis received a $16 million injection from the governments of the Netherlands, Belgium and Luxembourg. British bank Bradford & Bingley was nationalised today with the $40 billion savings department sold to Spanish retail bank Santander Group. Earlier today, Wachovia was saved by a buy-out from cash-strapped Citigroup. After the news of the House vote around 15h00 EST, the Dow-Jones Industrial Average fell 777.68 points (6.98%) to 10,365.45. This sell-off set the record for the largest one day sell-off in the market’s history. Likewise, the Nasdaq fell 9.14%, the S&P 500 8.81% and the Toronto Stock Exchange (TSX) fell 840.93 points (6.9%), also setting the record for largest sell-off in Canadian history. In commodities trading, light crude fell to $95 a barrel whilst gold rose $5.40 to $894.40 per ounce. In the last hours of trading, the dollar fell to €0,70 (euro), 55p (GBP) and C$1.03 (CAD).
Markets worldwide are expected to suffer. The Australian banking authorities have banned short-selling for 30 days to fight the panic, but in the first 30 minutes of trading, the S&P/ASX200 fell 254.7 points. The Tokyo Stock Exchange fell 57.71 in the same time and the Hang Seng Index (Hong Kong) fell 801.41 points.
Sources
bbc.co.uk, cbc.ca, cnn.com, wikipedia.org, house.org, senate.org, abc.net.au, missouridems.org, jaynixon.org, finance.google.com, x-rates.com, djindexes.com, mogop.org, kenny08.org, hkex.com.hk, tse.or.jp, asx.com.au
Thursday, September 25, 2008
"...and then they made me their chief"
Every August, I spend a week with my Grandma. This is the same week that her church - Lake Creek United Methodist thank-you-very-much - hosts an annul campmeeting.
At this point in the story, most people ten to picture a bunch of radials under a tent with some screechy pastor calling down fire and brimstone. Indeed, we used to have one of those, but we saw to it that he got uninvited. My point: we're Methodists. We are very calm and sedate people who only get riled up or clan infighting.
As you might expect, it is the part of Missouri where everybody has known everybody else their entire life and is related to most. In the little community of Smithton, MO, there are a few clans to get straight: Monsees', Page's, and Cook's. Each group, of course, contains dozens of family names handed down through the ages. My mother's name was Gieschen and her mother's name was Monsees, making us a good deal more central than some other cousins. As a matter of reference, it is common to include up to 8th cousins in family gatherings unless the matriarch or patriarch has caused a rift; otherwise, some family in the name is expected as a placeholder. The Monsees's ten to see themselves above the other because we're of French origin, not German (Monsees = Monsées), though it can't matter much since we're from Alsace-Lorraine and would have spoken German anyway.
Family history aside, every August, I attend the oldest campmeeting west of the Mississippi. So do all my cousins. It is not a matter of personal preference. You go. It is as simple as that. Who else, for instance, at my age, can say that they have been a part of something for 18 years? Whilst that may sound like a long time to keep coming back, 18 years is just a drop in the bucket. This year's winner was 78. Due to the death of her step-mother's brother a few months ago, my grandma won the prize this year for the first time in her life. That says something about a congregation. It also says something for the traditions and expectations the younger generations are expected to maintain.
When we were young, we didn't want to go, but were forced anyway. Now that we're older, we can hardly wait. With the advent of facebook, its easier to stay in touch with long-distance cousins, but how many Missourians can say that one of their best friends is their 4th cousin who attends university in Texas. This, too, is an important note: our grandparents were of the sort you think of as squires, not bumpkins. The bumpkins exist, but they tend, more often, to be baptists. Our parents, children of the squires, craftsmen and townsfolk, are professionals. From JaCoMo to JoCo and Elon to San Diego, we ply our trades, secretly plotting our annual return to my Grandmother's table.
The particular year in question, I was rather young, fifth or sixth grade. My particular friends were the 4th cousins mentioned earlier: Austin, three years older; Alex, my age; and Reid, a few years younger. Reid was known for not getting along and making sure we all knew he only came because he had to. It was the Friday night of the children's programme at church. My group had already performed and I was in the congregation with my parents. Reid's class was lined up on the risers to sing. When the song started, Reid developed a rather cross look and firmly placed his balled-up fists in his pockets. Every so often, he would make a brief editorial comment, and things went on. We were used to this Reid: Reid the weed. As the songs progressed, Reid's neighbour, a little Demand girl (of the Page clan) tried her best to convince Reid to sing and do the motions. Thoroughly annoyed, he altered his editorial comments to address her, and we went on. At last, Reid reached a breaking point. He took his right fist out of his pocket, opened his hand and slapped the girl on the cheek, mid-sentence. The girl began crying and ran for her grandma in the front row; Reid bent down to tie his shoelace. ALL the Page's turned and looked back with fury at the section where we Monsees's sat. Those in charge knew there would be trouble, but most couldn't help but roll with the punches.
At this point in the story, most people ten to picture a bunch of radials under a tent with some screechy pastor calling down fire and brimstone. Indeed, we used to have one of those, but we saw to it that he got uninvited. My point: we're Methodists. We are very calm and sedate people who only get riled up or clan infighting.
As you might expect, it is the part of Missouri where everybody has known everybody else their entire life and is related to most. In the little community of Smithton, MO, there are a few clans to get straight: Monsees', Page's, and Cook's. Each group, of course, contains dozens of family names handed down through the ages. My mother's name was Gieschen and her mother's name was Monsees, making us a good deal more central than some other cousins. As a matter of reference, it is common to include up to 8th cousins in family gatherings unless the matriarch or patriarch has caused a rift; otherwise, some family in the name is expected as a placeholder. The Monsees's ten to see themselves above the other because we're of French origin, not German (Monsees = Monsées), though it can't matter much since we're from Alsace-Lorraine and would have spoken German anyway.
Family history aside, every August, I attend the oldest campmeeting west of the Mississippi. So do all my cousins. It is not a matter of personal preference. You go. It is as simple as that. Who else, for instance, at my age, can say that they have been a part of something for 18 years? Whilst that may sound like a long time to keep coming back, 18 years is just a drop in the bucket. This year's winner was 78. Due to the death of her step-mother's brother a few months ago, my grandma won the prize this year for the first time in her life. That says something about a congregation. It also says something for the traditions and expectations the younger generations are expected to maintain.
When we were young, we didn't want to go, but were forced anyway. Now that we're older, we can hardly wait. With the advent of facebook, its easier to stay in touch with long-distance cousins, but how many Missourians can say that one of their best friends is their 4th cousin who attends university in Texas. This, too, is an important note: our grandparents were of the sort you think of as squires, not bumpkins. The bumpkins exist, but they tend, more often, to be baptists. Our parents, children of the squires, craftsmen and townsfolk, are professionals. From JaCoMo to JoCo and Elon to San Diego, we ply our trades, secretly plotting our annual return to my Grandmother's table.
The particular year in question, I was rather young, fifth or sixth grade. My particular friends were the 4th cousins mentioned earlier: Austin, three years older; Alex, my age; and Reid, a few years younger. Reid was known for not getting along and making sure we all knew he only came because he had to. It was the Friday night of the children's programme at church. My group had already performed and I was in the congregation with my parents. Reid's class was lined up on the risers to sing. When the song started, Reid developed a rather cross look and firmly placed his balled-up fists in his pockets. Every so often, he would make a brief editorial comment, and things went on. We were used to this Reid: Reid the weed. As the songs progressed, Reid's neighbour, a little Demand girl (of the Page clan) tried her best to convince Reid to sing and do the motions. Thoroughly annoyed, he altered his editorial comments to address her, and we went on. At last, Reid reached a breaking point. He took his right fist out of his pocket, opened his hand and slapped the girl on the cheek, mid-sentence. The girl began crying and ran for her grandma in the front row; Reid bent down to tie his shoelace. ALL the Page's turned and looked back with fury at the section where we Monsees's sat. Those in charge knew there would be trouble, but most couldn't help but roll with the punches.
"What do you 'know' ? "
I have dabbles of knowledge in various areas. I know the most about history and politics (aka - the history of now). I am a musician and probably more about music, theory and music history than many. I am a connoisseur of literature and know quite a bit about my 'faves'. I know a bit of several languages and their cultures: French, Catalan, Spanish, Portuguese, Latin, Italian, German, Dutch, Norwegian, Irish, Romanian, Greek, Turkish, Arabic and Russian. I like to explain things in nature. I like to reason; I like to argue.
I liked Zinsser's section about the interview best. It seemed to be what he really enjoyed and obviously knew. Furthermore, he got to incorporate several stories from 'the business' that were truly fascinating. I think, however, as helpful as it might be, it would be best to tell some of this info via human. Generally, the humour is already there, you just have to put things in the right order to make them riotous.
I liked Zinsser's section about the interview best. It seemed to be what he really enjoyed and obviously knew. Furthermore, he got to incorporate several stories from 'the business' that were truly fascinating. I think, however, as helpful as it might be, it would be best to tell some of this info via human. Generally, the humour is already there, you just have to put things in the right order to make them riotous.
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