A Really, Really Independent Candidate 

By Patrick F. Cannon

It’s been reported that elements of the Republican Party are casting about for a possible independent candidate to run against Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton. It appears no one really likes either of them, which begs the question: what the hell is the country coming to?

Anyway, there are any number of names being mentioned, including Michael Bloomberg and Mitt Romney. Both fine fellows, I’m sure, but a bit over the hill, wouldn’t you think? Being as worried as the next citizen about the future of our country, I wracked my brain over my luncheon of corn dogs and wheat chaff yesterday and a name popped into my mind; someone who, I’m certain, would find favor with the electorate.

I’m speaking of that great American – born in Brooklyn just like Bernie – Mel Brooks. While some may consider him too old, I saw him in a recent interview and can attest to his continuing sharpness. After all, he won’t be 100 until 2026, and would only be 99 when he left office after his second term.

His experience is unparalleled. He is a veteran of World War II, so a member of the Greatest Generation.  He is a scholar of repute. One of his movies is A History of the World, Part One, and he explored the troubled history of our treatment of Native- and African-Americans in Blazing Saddles. Nor has be ignored the fields of philosophy and psychiatry. Who can forget the existential angst of High Anxiety?

            He can sing too. His rendition of the title song from the aforementioned film has been compared with the best of Wayne Newton. And who but he could have penned that classic ditty, Springtime for Hitler?

His honors are numerous. Neither Trump nor Clinton can boast an Oscar, an Emmy, a Grammy and a Tony. He is a recipient of the Kennedy Center Honors, and received the Lifetime Achievement Award of the American Film Institute for the profound depth and humanity of his films. His foreign policy bona fides were validated when he was awarded the Fellowship of the British Film Institute.

So, don’t be surprised when William Kristol of The Weekly Standard, who foams at the mouth at the very mention of Donald Trump, tries to talk Mel Brooks into saving the country. Who knows, he might do it just for the laughs.

Also, he still has some hair, and doesn’t give a crap how it looks.

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Copyright 2016, Patrick F. Cannon

Don’t Mock It! 

By Patrick F. Cannon

I’m currently engaged in writing a history of the world, which I hope to finish in my lifetime or shortly thereafter. In my researches, I have consistently noted the impact that scientists and inventors have had on our daily lives. Some discoveries came about largely by accident and others through dogged determination.

Who can forget Sir Isaac Newton being brained by an apple (a Macintosh as it happens), then leaping to his feet and crying “gravity, by Jove!” Ever since, we’ve been able to keep our feet firmly on the ground.

And, of course, there’s Albert Einstein coming up with the Theory of Relativity while riding a tram in Zurich. As he rolled along, he suddenly wondered what would happen to time if the tram could travel at the speed of light, which was known to be pretty fast. He might, he speculated, arrive at the Swiss Patent Office, his then employer, before he actually left home. Despite the implications of such a thought, he pressed on and made his reputation. He didn’t get a knighthood like Newton, but it was just as well, as not everyone looks good on a horse.

History is replete with similar examples: Tom Edison noting that his eyebrows lit up every time he put his finger in an electric outlet; Alexander Graham Bell hearing his wife mutter obscenities to herself as she stretched he clothesline to a distant pole; and who can forget Irving Muddle inventing the Hula Hoop as he went over Niagara Falls in a truck tire?

But what of the unsung heroes?  Just who was it that invented the wheel, and fire, the toothpick and selfie stick, or ludicrous pastimes like cricket and water polo, for that matter? We’ll never know. But there is another unsung hero of more recent vintage who has also yet to come forward.

Most of us have eaten a Ritz Cracker. If you see one now in your mind’s eye, you likely see it adorned with cheese, salami, peanut butter, Cheez Whiz or any number of toothsome snacks. If you’re rich, you might imagine the lowly cracker adorned with beluga caviar, or perhaps topped with pate de foie gras and a thin shaving of truffle. But somewhere lurks a genius who looked at the ubiquitous round of wheat and saw the Ritz Cracker Mock Apple Pie. This is a leap of the imagination without parallel in my experience.

Why does this innovator not step forward into the light of public acclaim? Modesty perhaps?  Or an unwillingness to be thrust before the public in the pages of People magazine or The New Republic?

Of course, anonymity could permit future researches into alternative uses for other familiar foods. As you read this, our culinary giant might be looking at a pile of corn flakes and imagining Mock Turtle Soup. Or perhaps just trying to stay one step ahead of the nation’s apple growers (or people who have actually eaten a Mock Apple Pie).

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Copyright 2016, Patrick F. Cannon

When You’re Down and Out 

By Patrick F. Cannon

Some of you may remember the song that starts: When you’re down and out, lift up your head and shout “It’s going to be a great day!”

I suggest that, instead of agonizing over Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton or Bernie Sanders, that you find something else to occupy your waking moments, and perhaps your dreams as well.

If you’re a Chicagoan, glory in the fact that both the Cubs and White Sox are in first place and could even face each other in the World Series (although, to be fair, the Cubs have priority). The last time the Cubs started this well, they won the 1907 World Series (and 1908s too). Think Anthony Rizzo, not Donald Trump; think Chris Sale, not Hillary Clinton. And, of course, Chicagoans are ever hopeful about the Bears. This could be their year too.

Wherever you live, there are places to go and things to see, sometimes even for free. When was the last time you took a stroll in the park or a drive in the country? How about visiting that little town that has an annual strawberry festival? You can count cows on the way. If you have excess energy, why not rent a canoe and paddle up and down some nearby river? If no one’s around, you could even talk to a duck or two.

You’re reading this, so I guess you at least read a little. How about tackling something more substantial and consequential? Have you ever actually read War and Peace? How about the great Dickens’s novels?  I’ve been rereading some Hemingway and can recommend his earlier work, especially the short stories. If you haven’t read Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, now’s your chance. You might also want to read some history, to put today’s shenanigans in some perspective. I’m currently reading Ron Chernow’s Alexander Hamilton (the inspiration for the hip hop musical that’s all the rage). If you read it, you’ll discover that the Founding Fathers had the same flaws that most of us have, but they also had towering intellects grounded in sound educations. What politician in this sad year compares?

By all means, go to the movies. Seek out some that actually deal with the human condition, instead of the many that plop you into some dystopian future or a creepy city with grown men running around in body suits and capes. Earlier this year, I saw Brooklyn. and I can recommend it highly. Or maybe you could seek out some of the great screwball comedies of the 1930s and 1940s. They were stylish and funny without recourse to the eff word. By the way, who decided that profanity was funny in itself?

Almost every city in America of any size has an art museum. In Chicago, we’re blessed with the Art Institute, the country’s second largest. When was the last time you went? While the Modern Wing has its share of goofy stuff, most of what the museum owns will reassure you that men and women have been capable of sublime inspiration. And don’t just look at the paintings and sculpture. Seek out the galleries that hold the Institute’s collection of oriental objects, including jades and porcelains hundreds of years old. Simply looking at them will fill you with joy.

Have a great day!

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Copyright 2016, Patrick F. Cannon

Home Cookin’ 

By Patrick F. Cannon

My mother will have been dead for 60 years in a few months. I think of her most often around Mother’s Day. This year, my wife Jeanette and I had my daughter Beth and her husband Boyd for dinner. We had prime pot roast from our favorite butcher, and a bread pudding with fresh berries for dessert. It was all a picture, but alas, no one thought to whip out a cell phone camera to document the menu.

When my dear mother was cooking, the cell phone had not yet been invented, and I’m not too sure about the camera either. In fact, I don’t believe my parents ever owned a camera, so any surviving photos of their children were taken by someone else. Imagine not having your every move documented as you grow up?  And not being able to “share” the images with all and sundry whether they want to see them or not?

Anyway, my mother’s culinary triumphs were never photographed for posterity. As her son, I feel some obligation to give a wider public some idea of her more imaginative recipes, so that others might try and enjoy them.

We ate a lot of meat and potatoes, and there was nothing particularly adventurous in these every day menus. She would take a big hunk of meat, salt and pepper it according to her mood, then pop it into the oven for at least 30 minutes longer than necessary. This would insure that all the savory juices were cooked out of the roast. But there was method here. To whatever was left of the juices and other stuck-on stuff at the bottom of the pan was added a mixture of flour and water, creating gravy that could perhaps add some life back to the grey and dry slices of meat and mashed potatoes. Adding some canned peas to the plate would create quite a picture!

But this was everyday stuff. When my mother’s imagination soared, she could create wonders. For example, she would buy a ham steak, of a thickness (or thinness rather) that would guarantee the fried meat would have the consistency of a roof shingle. Then, when it was fried just so, into the pan would be poured a bottle of Maraschino cherries to create a dish I like to call “Jambon al la Maraschino.”  This would be accompanied by mashed potatoes (natch) and canned corn.

Another favorite was a preparation called “Casserole de Heinz.” Simplicity itself. To cooked egg noodles, add Heinz Ketchup (no substitutes please), mix thoroughly and top with Oscar Meyer breakfast sausages. Pop into the oven for a half hour or so, and then serve with canned green beans. Wash it all down with a big glass of milk. Note the balance of protein, carbohydrates and vitamins.

Finally, there was my all time favorite – kidney stew. Take a lamb kidney or two and cut into bite sized pieces. Put into a large pot full of water. Bring to a simmer and skim the crud off the surface until it stops forming. Do not open the windows, lest the neighbors call the police. Add potatoes and some carrots and cook until they’re very soft. Serve piping hot in bowls. A slice or two of Holsum Bread to soak up the gravy completes a unique experience.

Only my venerable brother Pete and I remain to carry on these family recipes, and I have my doubts about his culinary talents (spaghetti and meat balls excepted). So, I hope one of my loyal readers will take up the challenge and try them out. If you do, please send along a cell phone photo.

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Copyright 2016, Patrick F. Cannon

Give the Derby a Chance 

By Patrick F. Cannon

For the 142^nd time, Thoroughbred horses will run this Saturday in the Kentucky Derby at Louisville’s Churchill Downs. Undefeated Nyquist will likely be the deserving favorite. While a good horse, no one yet believes he has the quality of last year’s Triple Crown winner, American Pharoah. I may well place a small bet on him, but my dark horse is Mohaymen, who was soundly beaten by Nyquist in last month’s Florida Derby. I believe the track that day – drying and cuppy – bothered him, so I think you can throw that race out.

But really, I’m not sure who’s going to win, but I do know that the interest in the Derby and horse racing in general is in a gradual decline, and it saddens me. The first Derby I remember was 1948s, when Citation won the Derby and the Triple Crown. He was one of the great horses of the 20^th Century and everyone in America knew his name and exploits, for in that year and for many years before and after, more people attended horse races than any other sport, including baseball.

When I started attending the races in 1957, the local newspapers covered racing extensively, not only the major local tracks like Arlington and Washington Parks, but those in other major racing centers like New York, California, Florida and Maryland. The day’s entries were published, as well as the handicapper’s picks and yesterday’s results. They stopped doing this a long time ago. Why?

In 1957, when Chicago was a major center for racing, betting the horses was the only form of legalized gambling. In Illinois, first came the lottery, then the riverboats, and finally land-based casinos.  More recently, and dubiously, video poker machines were legalized and began to pop up in local taverns and other venues.

Horse racing has always had its fans, people who admired the sport for itself, who enjoyed the spectacle of animals bred for hundreds of years for one purpose: to run as fast as the can for as long as they can. They are beautiful creatures, who are happy to do their jobs for a steady diet of hay and oats and constant attention from their owners, trainers and grooms. They are never arrested for domestic battery, drug abuse, or murder. And while a cadre of fans still goes to the races for the pure sport, and to make modest bets on the outcome, there are not enough of them to keep the sport healthy.

The real gamblers, and the addicted gamblers, crave faster action. And, it must be said, thoughtless action. Feeding a slot machine hour after hour no longer even requires a strong arm, just a finger to press a button. At the track, there are at least 20 minutes between races, time for the thoughtful bettor to study the past performances of the dozen or so runners in the next race. But too much time for the person who seeks instant highs or (most often) lows.

As a result, only the tracks that have been permitted to add slots or other forms of gambling to the mix are now doing well. New York is a good example, as is Florida and, yes, even Indiana, a former minor league state whose purses are now higher than Arlington Park’s. How’s that for indignity?  Like so much in Illinois, Arlington has been left to wither – and will eventually die – because the legislature cannot even pass a budget, much less permit Arlington to add the gambling choices that would permit it to compete nationally for the best horses.

So, why not watch the Derby this Saturday, then think about spending an afternoon or two this summer at Arlington Park, or whatever race track my be near you. Have a leisurely lunch in the Million Room. Wander down to the paddock between races to have a look at the horses being saddled. Enjoy the architecture and landscaping of one of the most beautiful race tracks in the world. By all means, go down to the rail to watch a race or two, so you can see and hear these astonishing animals do what they were bred – and indeed love – to do. And hey, if you’re lucky, you might even win a buck or two.

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Copyright 2016, Patrick F. Cannon

Sometimes, I Just Can’t Hear  

By Patrick F. Cannon

When Prince died, I wasn’t in the least surprised at the outpouring of grief and shock that followed. He was, after all, one of the major popular music figures of his time. And he died relatively young, which somehow compounded the reaction. Yet, as his music was played over and over in the news reports, I realized that I simply didn’t recognize even the song that he was most identified with, Purple Rain.

I looked up the lyrics and found them banal, but in a way that’s beside the point. It was really the sound that was foreign to my ear. I’m simply not attuned to most of today’s music. I’ve often wondered about this, and now believe it has to do with two factors: the dominance of rhythm over melody, and the general lack of lyrical lyrics.

Can you really imagine strolling down the street whistling the melody from Purple Rain or I Ain’t Got No Satisfaction?  And do the words to these songs – I hesitate to use the word “lyrics” – compare in any way with something like this?

It seems we sat and talked like this before

We looked at each other in the same way then

But I can’t remember where or when

The clothes you’re wearing are the clothes you wore

The smile you are smiling you were smiling then

But I can’t remember where or when

Not only do these lyrics scan, but they are supported by a melody that, once heard, is impossible to forget. The music for Where or When is by Richard Rogers and the lyrics by Lorenz Hart. Written for a Broadway musical in 1937, the song became a hit then, and has been recorded many times since, most notably by Frank Sinatra. Would it even get radio play if it came out today?

This is not to say that good songs are not being written. Musicals are still being produced on Broadway, but how many original cast albums are bought today? The possible exception is Hamilton, whose songs are based on hip hop and rap forms. I’ll be interested to see if I can understand the lyrics. Hip hop, to me, is barely music at all, and rap is decidedly not music. It’s usually just slam poetry with dirty words.

And it’s not just popular music that can’t travel pleasantly through my ears and into my brain and emotions. With some exceptions, much of today’s so-called serious music, whether classical of jazz, seems composed for other composers, just as so much poetry is written primarily for academics and like-minded poets. Neither composers nor poets now depend on their art to make a living, as Mozart and Gershwin did.  When critics decry the decline of interest in poetry and serious music, one wonders if they ever ask the obvious question: why would anyone be interested in something so clearly intended for so narrow an audience?  Something that no longer sings?

Well, anyway, Prince managed to appeal to many more ears than John Cage. I don’t begrudge him his fame. He worked hard at both writing and performing. Whether in 200 years, he’ll be considered our era’s Bach or Beethoven, as one of his lawyers was recently quoted as saying, is open to question. I hope not, as I continue to think that we can do better. Perhaps I’m living in vain hope, but my ears await the return of melody and wit to our popular music.

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Copyright 2016, Patrick F. Cannon

Random Thoughts 

By Patrick F. Cannon

Money in Politics

Complaining about how Federal elections are funded is a fruitless exercise. Unless the Supreme Court finds a way around the First Amendment by reversing itself in its decision that political contributions are a form of speech, then the only real way of reforming the system is to amend the Constitution. Good luck with that. It is interesting, though, that the average voters seems to be getting immune to all the sleeze tossed in his or her direction. Maybe the only true beneficiaries of all this PAC money are the broadcast media.

Pension Facts

I was curious, so I found that the average Chicago teacher pension after 28 years of service is $42,000. I got this number from the folks who run the retirement program. The maximum Social Security benefit at the regular retirement age of 66+ is $31,956. To receive that benefit, you would have to pay the maximum withholding tax for 35 years. While the rate of 15.3% (including Medicare) – shared equally between the employer and employee – has not changed since 1990, the maximum taxable income has risen from $51,300 to $118,500, and can be expected to continue to increase in the coming years.

I understand that Chicago teachers are paying a 2% share of the pension tax, as opposed to the 7.65% withholding that Social Security mandates. Chicago teacher retirees are also guaranteed a 3% annual cost of living increase. Since 2010, the average cost of living increase under Social Security has been 1.2 percent.

Promises, Promises

Donald Trump wants to build a humungous wall along the Mexican border. Forget for a moment that there has been a net outflow of illegal Mexican immigrants in recent years. Trump claims that his negotiating skills will force the Mexican government to pay for the wall. To accomplish this, he will stop US residents from sending money back to Mexico. If, through some miracle of bi-partisanship, he manages to get Congress to go along with this, two things will happen: Western Union and the other companies who handle these transfers will scream bloody murder as they go out of business, and a new black market will replace them. How about a rational new immigration law instead?

One of Bernie Sanders’ more appealing ideas is free tuition at public colleges and universities. The cost to the taxpayers (that’s you) has been estimated at $75 billion per year. Frankly, I think it would end up being much more. While the Federal government already provides some funding to most colleges and universities, I wonder if people are aware of the sheer number of schools involved. For example, each state has a primary university, usually the one established by the land grant program of the 19^th Century. Illinois has its main campus in Urbana-Champaign and satellite campuses in Chicago and Springfield. It also has a second system that includes Northern and Southern Illinois universities, among others. There is also an extensive system of community junior colleges. All are already supported by Illinois and local taxpayers.

The countries that do provide free tuition limit the numbers who get this benefit by a rigorous competitive examination system. This is one reason, I think, for the high number of foreign students in American colleges and universities. If you graduate from high school in this country, you are almost certain to find a place in at least a community college. A better answer, in my view, would be an increase in outright grants to the poorest students and an overhaul of the student loan program.

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Copyright 2016, Patrick F. Cannon

We Really Miss You, Fred

By Patrick F. Cannon

My contention that Fred Astaire was one of greatest singers of popular song of his era – hell, of any era – is often met with incomprehension or bemusement. Surely, people think, you mean one of the great dancers? That’s, of course, if they have any real idea of who he was in the first place. Like so many artists of even the day before yesterday, he has faded into the mists of entertainment history.

A case in point: I give tours at Frank Lloyd Wright’s Home & Studio in Oak Park, and mention that the actress Anne Baxter was his grand daughter. Most of the 15 or so people on the tour don’t have a clue who she was, since her heyday was in the 40s, 50s and 60s. The exceptions would be people older than 70 and cinema nuts. While Fred Astaire had a much higher status and fame than she, he is just as dead for most young people.

Yet, he deserves their attention. In an age of increasing and unceasing vulgarity, he might offer an oasis of grace and elegance. Even his walk was worth watching. In one of his best musicals – and one of the best of all movie musicals – The Band Wagon, he has arrived in New York on the 20^th Century Limited. He is a Hollywood star whose career in is decline, and he has taken a role in a new Broadway musical. On the train, he meets Ava Gardener, playing herself. They chat a bit, but when they get off the train at Grand Central Station, she is mobbed by reporters and photographers, while poor Fred is ignored.

Alone, he begins walking to the terminal, while singing “I’ll go my way, by myself…”  I urge you go Google these opening lyrics, which should lead you to an outtake from the movie. Notice how Fred’s walk is gracefully attuned to the music, how this simple act becomes imbued with meaning and emotion. Notice also how beautifully the song is sung, how each word is presented clearly for your consideration.

Two of the greatest composers of American song of the 20^th Century – really of all time – Irving Berlin and George Gershwin both were quoted as saying that they preferred Fred above all others to sing their songs. Why? Because they could count on him to sing the song as written, to annunciate the words clearly, and to be in tune and on pitch. I should also mention that the great Tony Bennett, now 90, many years ago mentioned Fred as one of his inspirations.

I have a CD of some of his greatest songs. I keep it in my car and play it often. Like Bach’s Goldberg Variations, I never tire of listening to it. If you don’t know Fred as a great singer, I’m sure you would be able to find albums on Amazon or any of a number of music sites that would convince you. While we all should keep up with contemporary music (selectively!), we should also find time to honor the great art of the past.

Finally, if you get a chance to watch any of his movies, you’ll discover that he could dance a little, too.

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Copyright 2016, Patrick F. Cannon

It’s a Bird, it’s a Plane, or Maybe Just Stupid! 

By Patrick F. Cannon

As a kid, I read my share of comic books. Early on, they tended to be about Disney characters, or Bugs Bunny (a particular favorite), or any of a number of cartoon characters. Increased age and sophistication led me to Superman, Batman, Rubber Man (or was it Plastic Man?), and characters like Terry and his pirates and the Lone Ranger. Finally, my literary bent was satisfied with something called Classic Comics. One of them, Ivanhoe, painlessly introduced me to Sir Walter Scott.

I remember being jealous of a classmate who lived in a vast apartment on South Lake Shore Drive in Chicago. His room included a closet devoted to his comic book collection, each title neatly stacked on floor to ceiling shelves. This, I thought, was what it meant to be truly rich! (I wonder if he kept them and eventually sold them at auction, becoming even richer.)

Whatever meager collection I might have had probably didn’t survive my family’s move back to the Pittsburgh area in the early 1950s. We lived in McKeesport, which had a Carnegie Library. Once I had a library card, I don’t think I ever read another comic book. Compared to books like Dick Stover at Yale (and the like), they seemed like pretty childish stuff.

Eventually, I graduated to more serious literature. Even in high school, we were required to read Shakespeare, Dickens, Longfellow, Whitman, and Twain, among others.  A university education added more modern writers, like Hemingway, Faulkner, Fitzgerald, Elliot, Cummings, O’Neil, Wilder, and many, many more, from both sides of the Atlantic. As an aside, I took a course in the British Victorian novel, where we were required to read 10 novels. When the course began, the professor informed us that the final exam would have questions on only six of the ten. Feel free, he told us, to try to decide which six! If only there had been a Classic Comic of Vanity Fair!

At any rate, imagine my surprise when it occurred to me a few years ago that actual adults seemed to be buying, reading and collecting comic books. And were being aided and abetted by a film industry that spews forth an endless stream of “super hero” movies that pile up immense sums of money at the box office. They are typically full of violence and are clearly not meant for the little kids that read comics in my day.

Instead of the simple good guys verses bad guys stories of the old comic books, our heroes are now full of angst and demons. Bruce Wayne (Batman for the uninitiated) dwells endlessly on the death of his parents, while spending their hard-earned money on fancy cars, caves and English butlers (once the redoubtable Michael Caine, and most recently Jeremy Irons, out for some of that cash).  Most recently, the comics moguls have doubled down and released something called Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice. The implications of this for the future of civilization are frightening to contemplate.

To make even more dough out of this phenomenon, a series of conventions are now held around the country to feed the frenzy. The largest is held in San Diego, but Chicago has its version called “The Wizard World Comic Con.” I know this because a few years ago I was driving past the Stevens Convention Center in suburban Rosemont and thought I had entered some kind of parallel universe. All around me were strange creatures dressed like the usual super heroes, but also others impersonating characters from Harry Potter and the like. These were not children, I hasten to say, buy young (and not so young) adults.

I don’t want to make too much of this, but I do see this preference for a fantasy world as part of a general vulgarization of American taste, and a turning away from the sometimes difficult realities of every day life. But when faced with a race for president that includes candidates like Batsman (Donald Trump), Elastic Woman (Hillary Clinton), Iron Head (Ted Cruz), and Marxman (Bernie Sanders),  I’m not sure I can blame them for fleeing from reality.

How it’s Made 

By Patrick F. Cannon

I’m fascinated by a program on the Science Channel called “How it’s Made.” Each program includes three or four products and shows their production process from raw materials to finished product.

I now know how breakfast cereal is made, along with numerous other food products. We’ve all probably seen brief scenes showing car assembly on the evening news, but I’ve seen the complete process for both regular passenger cars and exotics that can exceed 200 miles per hour. Have you wondered how those golf balls you regularly hit into the water come to be on your tee? Or how crayons are made? Or circuit boards? Or cricket bats?

It’s fascinating stuff. It’s also instructive, because what you’re actually watching most of the time is the miracle of computer controlled machine tools that are efficiently doing the work that was once done by people. There are still men and women on the automobile assembly line to be sure, but in greatly reduced numbers. So-called robots are now doing most of the welding, stamping and boring. And they don’t belong to unions.

These are the jobs that once went to high school graduates who didn’t go on the college, either because they couldn’t or didn’t want to. Starting after World War II, a willing worker could get a good job at the steel mill, the auto plant, the appliance manufacturer – indeed, any number of companies that were satisfying a pent up demand stifled by depression and war. Now, as some politicians are fond of reminding us, many of these jobs have gone to foreign shores, because enlightened (to me) trade policies have leveled the labor playing field, with the result that the worldwide standard of living has steadily risen.

It is well to remember that the United States is still a manufacturing power. While China, with four times the population, leads the world in total manufacturing value, the per capita value of those goods was $1,856 in a recent year, as compared to the United States’ $6,280. Keep in mind also that, even though the brand names might sometimes be foreign, most of the automobiles sold in this country are made here.

The American worker is also highly productive. Only Switzerland, Luxembourg and Norway have more productive workers, and they are obviously very small economies. What this means, and “How it’s Made” confirms it, is that fewer workers can get the same work done. And these workers are more likely to be people who know how to operate computers and complicated machinery. It isn’t enough, now, to just have a high school diploma.

Despite what politicians tell you to the contrary, the decline in the numbers of high paying manufacturing jobs was and is unavoidable. For many years, we have been in a transition to an information-based economy, where education is king. The most recent figures show an unemployment rate for college graduates of 2.8 percent; for high school graduates it’s 5.4 percent. Average weekly income is $1,137 and $678 respectively.

In January, the number of job openings in this country rose above 5 million for the first time. That strongly suggests that employers are finding it difficult to find qualified applicants for some jobs. Only education tailored to the new realities can reduce that number. Finally, we should recognize that it’s too late for some people. If they’re willing to work at a lower paying job, we should continue the earned-income tax credits and other programs that permit them to maintain a decent standard of living, while giving their children the kind of education they’ll need in an inevitably changing economy.

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Copyright 2016, Patrick F. Cannon