Take the Good with the Bad

Posted on December 28, 2017 by patnettecomcastnet

Take the Good with the Bad

By Patrick F. Cannon

Instead of making resolutions for 2018, let’s see where we are as it begins. How does the balance scale look?

On one side, Donald Trump is still president. Another interesting fellow, Kim Jong-un, continues to build big rockets and nuclear bombs instead of feeding his people, who seem to starve with smiles on their faces. He claims the recent United Nations sanctions are an act of war, but I guess he doesn’t realize that the UN has utterly failed in its stated mission to bring peace to the world, so they might as well declare war; on the other hand, they’ve managed to build a fine bloated bureaucracy, which we are pleased to pay for.

On a positive note, Robert Mugabe has been removed from power in Zimbabwe, although it remains to be seen whether the new folks will be any better. Oops! I almost forgot about Putin. I’m afraid he puts the scale far out of balance.

Despite what Nancy Pelosi and the other ancients in the Democratic Party like Dick Durbin are saying, almost everyone is going to be paying less income tax next year. Rich folks will indeed benefit the most because – wait for it – they already pay by far the most. As I think I’ve mentioned here before, the highest 10 percent of earners pay 70 percent of the income taxes. The claim that their reduced taxes will be on the backs of the poor is false and Nancy and Dick know it. Let me remind them that the lowest 45 percent of income tax filers pay no tax at all, and that nearly 20 percent actually get cash under the earned income tax credit provision, which has not changed.

My argument with the new tax law isn’t that it’s unfair, but that it will increase the deficit unless economic growth reaches at least 4 percent on a sustained basis, which is questionable. When is the national debt too much? If economics were an exact science, economists would tell you, but in fact they differ widely on its long term effect. But here’s something to consider: the Federal government is currently paying an average of 2.293 percent interest on the money it borrows. This is historically low – a more typical average would be more like 5 percent. What happens to the deficit if interest rates are doubled, a not unlikely event? Let’s call the tax reform shakily balanced for the moment.

(As an aside, if you watch the local and national TV news, you would think that the Republican congress had actually passed a tax increase. Why is this, I wonder?)

There is some good news. Unemployment is about as low as it gets, and people who had stopped looking for work are returning to the work force. Employers are actually having trouble filling some jobs, which results in increased wages (wage stagnation has been thought a problem for many years). Stock prices are rising, which benefits not only individual investors, but the many people who are in the market through 401-K and other retirement plans.

The poverty rate in the US has declined from 15.1 percent in 2010 to 13.5 percent in 2017. People living in abject poverty worldwide have decreased from about 25 percent in 2000 to 9.5 percent now. In most cases, hunger is more related to political upheaval than an actual lack of food. In our own country, childhood hunger is almost always caused by family dysfunction.

Another plus: Americans are the most generous people in the world. Not only do they help people in need, but they support medical research, education and the arts to an astonishing degree. And let me brag about our writers. The British Man Booker literary prize was only opened to Americans two years ago. Americans have won the prize in each of those two years! Last year’s winner, George Saunders (for Lincoln in the Bardo), is from the south Chicago suburb of Oak Forest.

In Chicago sports, the Cubs made it to the NLCS and the Black Hawks to the NHL playoffs. The Bears as usual disappointed; the White Sox did too, but at least seem to have some hope for the future. After a dismal start, the Bulls have come alive, but like the Sox it’s probably “wait till next year.” On balance, the year could have been better, but we live in hope!

Finally, it hasn’t been a good year for sexual predators, primarily in the arts, media and entertainment. Women (and men in some cases) now seem emboldened to blow the whistle as never before. This is all to the good, but lets hope the innocent – and there will be innocents – do not go down with the guilty as they did in the McCarthy era. In any event, men will have little excuse in 2018 for using their power to abuse women and young boys.

Taking all of this into account, not sure how the scales will balance in the New Year. Of course, if it weren’t for Donald Trump…

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Happy Holidays, Folks!

Posted on December 21, 2017 by patnettecomcastnet

Happy Holidays, Folks!

By Patrick F. Cannon

Well, another year has passed, so I thought I’d bring you all up to date on the family as the holidays approach. As usual, there wasn’t a dull moment for our relatives. First the bad news: old Uncle Abner won’t be with us this year – once again, the Parole Board turned him down. I guess he’ll have to serve the full sentence. Heck, he’ll only be 70 when he gets out. If he watches his health, he ought to be able to enjoy some of the cash he has stashed away. He still refuses to tell me where it’s hid, despite me telling him inflation is eating away at it, and I’d be happy to invest it for him. Oh, well, he’s as cantankerous as ever.

Daisy Mae is pregnant again. Not sure who the father is this time either. As you know, all her kids look just a little different. I call them the rainbow coalition. She’s a worker though. Taking an online course in beauty culture, using money borrowed from the government. She says no one every pays off them loans, so it’s like a free education. Aren’t these young folks smart?

As you know, young Georgie is in the army. He made it all the way to corporal before he got busted back to private for drinking on duty. At least they didn’t give him a dishonorable discharge like his brother Amos. I guess they treat drunkenness and attempted murder different.

You probably heard that Aunt Nellie got married again. You kinda lose track, but I think this might be number six. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that her former husbands all died suddenly. At least they all left her some money. Maybe she’ll have better luck this time. The new husband looks healthy enough.

I’m proud that the family remains on the cutting edge of social change. Cousin Charlie announced that he was changing his name to Charlene. Guess we’ll all have to bone up on our pronouns. I suggested to Charlene that the beard might be considered odd for a lady, but he’s (she’s?) quite fond of it, reminding me that the carnival that comes through town still features a bearded lady. So, it looks like a career change might be in the offing too.

I’m sure you’ve seen all the media stories about son Ralphie. As you know, he’s the only member of the family to graduate from college – and Harvard no less. He’d already graduated by the time they found out he’d phonied up his transcripts and ACT scores to get in, and by then were too embarrassed to go public. Ralphie says the trick is to get in. After that you don’t have do much, since they think you’re already smart enough.

Anyway, Ralphie’s now got the record for the greatest Ponzie scheme in history. Unlike old Madoff, he got away to Russia with the dough before it was discovered, so all that education sure paid off. That picture of him and Putin riding those white horses bare-chested made all the papers. Funny though, when we tried to get a passport to visit him, we got turned down. I complained to our Congressman, and he told me he was surprised too, since he thought they would be happy to see us leave the country. Not sure what he meant by that.

Finally, I hope you won’t believe that story about wife Rosie being found naked with the preacher. She told me it was just a new way or praying; something about going back to the innocence of Adam and Eve before they ate the apple. She said it made her feel so good she might try it again.

Well, that’s all for this year. You have a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. As for me, I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for Yokum family.

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Look Ma, No Hands!

Posted on December 14, 2017 by patnettecomcastnet

Look Ma…No Hands!

By Patrick F. Cannon

When they work, computers are wonderful tools. They’re a Godsend for writers. I say this as someone who started writing longhand (including, if you can believe it, college papers), then learned how to type on a manual typewriter; progressed to electric, then the miracle of the IBM Selectric; embraced word processing; and finally, several generations of desktop and laptop computers, the most recent of which is now under my fingers.

I can still manage to write in cursive, as taught by the good nuns of various schools and orders. I no longer own any kind of typewriter, although I understand that many folks collect them, including Tom Hanks. They were, after all, wonders of mechanical design. Like all mechanical contraptions, they sometimes broke down, but nothing was lost except ones temper. When a computer fails, however, disaster may well ensue.

If you work with computers extensively, more than likely you have experienced a disastrous meltdown or two. Years ago, I wrote a brochure text of at least 5,000 words, which somehow disappeared from the computer’s memory. I had to rewrite the whole damn thing again, now under deadline. And it wasn’t by any means the only time technology has and continues to betray me.

That’s why I’m more than a little skeptical about the looming arrival of the driverless vehicle. General Motors tells us that they plan to have one available by 2019; Google, Tesla, Uber and others are already testing them. And, of course, passenger cars already have some of the features – automatic braking, lane warnings, etc. – that will be required for driverless cars. Even with the small numbers now on the roads, there have been failures and accidents. Imagine, if you dare, what will happen when the majority of vehicles – including massive trucks – are careening at high speeds on the nation’s highways when there’s a massive software meltdown?

Can’t happen? Really? Ask the many airlines whose reservation systems have crashed; or the NSA or Pentagon when their sensitive files have been hacked; or the many banks and other corporations whose customer information has been stolen or held for ransom. The systems that will control our vehicles will be highly complex, and will include radar, highway sensors, in-vehicle processors and that strange unearthly phenomenon called “the cloud.” Are you willing to bet your life that all of it works all of the time?

People who read this blog regularly will know that I often heap scorn on the science deniers – those people who, despite all evidence to the contrary, continue to oppose child vaccination; believe that genetically modified organisms (GMOs) will cause us to grow two heads; or that human activity has nothing to do with climate change, or even that the earth was created in seven days. And while I applaud the safety features that can help prevent accidents – and the more efficient and cleaner power plants that will power our cars and trucks – I still want to have my hands on the wheel.

And not only for my peace of mind. There are times when driving a capable car is a pleasure. Although it frightens my wife Jeanette, I look forward to driving in the Laurel Highlands of Western Pennsylvania enroute to a family reunion. Driving past the most beautiful thoroughbred horse farms in the world near Lexington, Kentucky never gets old. And I’ll always remember a trip in early spring through Austria from Vienna to Salzburg and on to Munich. The world was turning green, but there were still patches of snow in the meadows.

Now, you might say that you could enjoy the view more if you didn’t have to drive the car. But I’m afraid most people would just stare at their phones, check their e-mails, text their friends and relatives or play video games. You know, the stuff they already do while actually driving. So we want to give up yet another of our freedoms for this?

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Too Taxing for You?

Posted on December 7, 2017 by patnettecomcastnet

Too Taxing for You?

By Patrick F. Cannon

As the Republicans in the House and Senate wrangle over the final form of the so-called tax reform bill (reform takes 500 pages?), I thought I would throw out some facts that you might find of interest.

Approximately 45 percent of taxpayers pay no income tax at all. Indeed, nearly 20 percent are eligible for the earned income tax credit – in effect, they not only pay no taxes but the Federal government actually gives them money! In addition, most are also receiving food, housing and other assistance. The new tax bill would not fundamentally change any of this.

Nor is it likely to fundamentally change who actually pays the income taxes. The top earners – the reviled one percent – pay 40 percent of the total, while the top 10 percent pay 71 percent. The problem isn’t who pays the taxes – the problem is a Congress that historically doesn’t seem to care if the income and expenditure columns match.

Of course, this doesn’t mean that the lowest earners don’t pay any taxes. The payroll tax – for Social Security, Medicare, unemployment and disability insurance, etc. – is paid by everyone who gets a paycheck. The rate is currently 7.65 percent, matched by the employer. Taxable income is currently capped at $127,200. I have always thought that one way to make the fund at least partially viable would be to eliminate the cap. It wouldn’t exactly be fair, but hey, everyone likes to soak the rich, right?

Here’s one for you Illinois residents. We have the fifth highest tax burden of all the states, and the highest paid state employees at an average of nearly $60,000 a year (adjusted for cost of living). They also enjoy much better health benefits than you do (unless you too work for the State or are a member of Congress). Oh, and they have pretty nice pensions. Alas, there still isn’t enough in the pension funds to pay them without even more tax increases. Why be number 5 when you could be numero uno? Then at least we could lead the country in something.

Although it can be a bit more complicated, you can now deduct your state income and local property taxes from your Federal return. Although hard to believe, the Illinois income tax rate of 4.95 percent is not even close to the highest (thank you California); it is the total tax burden that gets us to number 5. Although it’s hard to predict what the final tax bill will look like, one version would eliminate the deduction for state income taxes and limit the real estate tax deduction to $10,000. If you’re in Wyoming, Texas, Nevada, Florida or Alaska, this would be a matter of little concern.

As a matter of interest, the average deduction for real estate taxes in Illinois is $6,500. I couldn’t find a breakdown, but I suspect the average is higher in Chicago and the so-called collar counties. In any event, for most taxpayers, the $10,000 limit would not be a problem. Again, it will be the upper middle class and the wealthy who would be most affected.

Are you sufficiently bored? I am, but let me leave you with this final thought. I’m retired and I’m not the least bit tempted to move south, but I know quite a few people who have established permanent residency in states like Florida and Texas to avoid Illinois’ high taxes. In many cases, they get to spend the good weather months in the Chicago area before heading south for the winter (six months and 1 day is the usual). And I won’t even begin to talk about the cost of doing business in Illinois. Let me close by mentioning that my son lives in Florida. He works for one of America’s major banks, which is in the process of moving all their computer operations from high tax areas to the Sunshine State. People are even moving to Wisconsin and Indiana, for God’s sake!

Shark Weak

Posted on November 30, 2017 by patnettecomcastnet

Shark Weak

By Patrick F. Cannon

On many a misty morning while walking the dog, I have been struck suddenly with terror by the approach of what appears to be the open maw of a gigantic shark – only to be returned to reality by the realization that what appeared to be a basking shark was in reality the front end of an automobile.

Of course, one need not fear a basking shark, since their mouths are open not to swallow you whole, but to allow easy entry to the plankton and other little bits that constitute their diet. I’m not certain why auto makers feel they need to have similar gaping openings in the front of their cars, since the only reason cars have grills at all is to permit air to flow to the radiators that are a part of the cooling systems of most internal combustion engines. In the past, more discrete openings were considered quite sufficient.

I know my friends who own such cars will forgive me, but the current greatest adherents of the basking-shark front end craze are Lexus, Audi, Toyota, Hyundai and Mitsubishi. Ford was once an offender, but has since toned down its front ends (although they may have actually started the whole trend). Other brands have sometimes flirted with the fishy look.

You may have noticed that most of this shark attack has come from foreign makers. What you may not know is that most of the cars they sell here are not only manufactured in this country, but also designed here. It seems car designers are like lemmings – they love to follow their fellow designers off the trend cliff, whether the design makes sense or not. Leaving the gaping maw profusion aside for the moment, have you noticed that one car now looks much like another? I have recently rented mid-size Toyotas, Nissans and Hyundais and you would be hard pressed to tell them apart. Indeed, the driving experience itself – comfy but dull – was nearly identical. It is no accident I think that most of the folks who design our cars are graduates of the ArtCenter College of Design in Pasadena. Birds of a feather?

This was not always the case. When I was a kid, I prided myself on the ability to identify every make of American car (pretty much all one saw until the 1960s). Here, in no particular order, were the brands that were available in, say, 1952: Chevrolet, Pontiac, Oldsmobile, Buick, Cadillac, Ford, Mercury, Edsel, Lincoln, Chrysler, Plymouth, Dodge, Packard, Studebaker, Nash, Hudson, Willys, Kaiser, Frazer, Henry J, Checker, Rambler, International and Crosley. I may have missed one or two, but you get the idea. The only foreign cars one was likely to see were MGs, Jaguars, and Mercedes; and increasingly as the years went on, the VW Beetle. Some of the American brands were ugly, but at least they were distinctive! The Europeans, who then couldn’t afford the gas to run them, heaped abuse upon them in their usual superior way.

The Big Three each cultivated a corporate look, even though individual designs might miscarry (who can forget the hapless Edsel). Nowadays, only brands like BMW, Mercedes, Rolls Royce and Bentley stand out, and then only from the front, as they try to retain some vestige of their traditional grill shape.

To me, there are two periods of unsurpassed car design – the 1930s in France and America; and the 1950s and 60s in Italy. It’s 50 years later, and no one has improved on Pinin Farina’s design for the Ferrari Daytona. Google it and you’ll see what I mean. Of course, car design might have to change radically when driverless cars become common. Perhaps they’ll run on some unseen force, levitate through the air or even swim with the fishes. But they better beware of those basking sharks!

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Give Thanks

Posted on November 23, 2017November 23, 2017 by patnettecomcastnet

Give Thanks

By Patrick F. Cannon

Note: This is from last year, with changes as necessary. It still expresses my thoughts about my favorite day.

It has always been good advice to stay away from politics while you’re enjoying your Thanksgiving turkey dinner. The holiday is meant to be a time to give thanks for our blessings, which our politicians have decidedly not given us for many years. So, let’s toss them aside and celebrate Thanksgiving properly.

First of all, let’s give thanks for the amazing turkey. Over the years, farmers have taken a wild bird of amazing toughness and developed one that, properly cooked, can be sublime. I can say that because I have been responsible for making the family turkey for many decades, and it always turns out to be edible, despite my feeble culinary talents. Were Keats alive today, he would certainly write an “Ode to the Gobbler.”

(Of course, the noble bird isn’t perfect. I had a neighbor during my brief period of living in Albert Lea, Minnesota, who had been the county sheriff. He was part Native American and had a dry sense of humor. After he retired, he decided to raise some turkeys on an acreage he then owned. One night, there was a violent thunderstorm. His herd of turkeys became frightened and herded together, to the point that they smothered each other and mostly died. Sheriffy, as the locals called him, never ate turkey again. He told me their stupidity lost him a lot of money and thereafter he only ate ham for Thanksgiving.)

By tradition, so many side dishes are made that the most finicky of eaters can be satisfied. Even the vegetarians (how sad to be one on Thanksgiving) can find enough to eat. And when all are satisfied, my wife Jeanette and I have at least two more turkey dinners to enjoy, not to mention the turkey soup that the carcass so generously provides.

Around the dining table (made larger for the occasion by a small table) will be our daughter Elizabeth and her husband, the inimitable Boyd; my niece Eve O’Brien and her husband Tim; their son Patrick (one of many Patrick’s in the family) and his wife Amy, in from St. Louis; and our very close friends, Ed and Barb Swanson, from far away Northbrook. My son Patrick (yet another of that noble name) is in Florida recuperating from minor surgery so couldn’t make it this time. If politicians are discussed at all, it will be only to make fun of them.

In addition to being thankful for our families and friends, we can find much else to be grateful for. Amidst all the world’s problems, there is cause for optimism. For example, abject poverty in the world has been reduced from more than 50 percent 50 years ago to less than 15 percent today. In addition to inventing the more obvious technologies that have transformed computing and communications, American scientists have developed medicines and techniques that have helped people around the world live longer and healthier lives. And our agricultural scientists, despite the science deniers who oppose advances like GMOs, are helping farmers feed an increasing world population with an ever declining availability of tillable land.

Our own country is now essentially energy independent; indeed, we are in a position to export fuel. Free market capitalism and some government programs, even though often poorly run, have helped reduce actual poverty to about five percent. Unemployment is about as low as it can get. Recent research has concluded that dysfunctional families are the only remaining significant cause of childhood hunger. Oh, and before I forget, Northwestern is 8 and 3, and still has Illinois to play!

Finally, I would like to remind everyone that Americans are the most generous people on earth. Our donations of cash and labor help not only our fellow citizens, but people around the world. In addition to social services, our cultural institutions and great universities – the best in the world — are the creations of generous philanthropy.

I could go on. Just remember if you will that Thanksgiving is just that, a day to, as the old song says “accentuate the positive.” Let politics intrude on another day.

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Have a Seat

Posted on November 16, 2017 by patnettecomcastnet

Have a Seat

By Patrick F. Cannon

I see it as my mission in life to think about things that would never occur to anyone else. For example, I just sat down at my desk and began typing on my laptop. Sat down at my desk on my office chair. Now, I know how the chair got there. I bought it at an office supply store. But what of chairs as things? Why do we have them? Where did they come from? Have you never wondered who made the first chair, and why?

People interested in such questions might well begin exhaustive researches in the collections of famous libraries and universities around the world; or simply Google “chair” and have done with it. I am in the enviable position of having a veritable archive in my own memory, in a brain that has soaked up most of the world’s knowledge in the course of a life of constant study.

Let me suggest first of all that there are really only three kinds of chairs: easy, hard, and those designed by artists and architects. As this last category is fairly recent, let me get it out of the way first. Such chairs are notable for being both expensive and uncomfortable. Italian designers in particular seem dedicated to the proposition that a proper chair must be an object of great sculptural beauty first. Indeed, you would be hard pressed to discover a way to actually sit on one. To these great artists, it is the idea of the chair that is important, not its utility. Bravissimo, I say!

Architects, it must be said, do intend their chair designs to be sittable, if barely. The legendary German architect, Ludwig Mies van der Rohe – famous for his dictum that “less is more” – designed his famous Barcelona chair for a German exhibit at the 1929 world’s fair in that city. It has a simple, elegant design, favored by the kind of people who put abstract paintings on their white walls. It works best as an object, since getting in and out of it is something of a chore. But then, what can you expect for a mere $5,760?

Another great architect who has advanced the art of chair making is the by now ubiquitous Frank Gehry, he of the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao Spain, the Disney concert hall in Los Angeles and the Pritzker Pavilion in our own Chicago. Before his architecture became fashionable, and he thus had a lot of free time on his hands, the avuncular Gehry designed a chair made out of cardboard. The idea, one supposes, was to make a cheap and (maybe) comfortable chair for the masses. To prove his point, you can buy one now for a mere $5,900. It would go well with your Barcelona chair and Jackson Pollack painting, and set you back far less than a cardboard Brillo box by Andy Warhol.

(Although a bit larger than a chair, one could also complete ones ensemble with a bright red Kiss Sofa, said to be based on Marilyn Monroe’s lips. It can be had for only $7,400, but really should be complemented by a Mark Rothko color field painting in blue. Sitting on it would make real the famous admonition.)

Lest I be accused of favoritism, as I have written a bit about his architecture, I must point out that Frank Lloyd Wright’s prairie period (1900-1915) high-backed dining chairs are notorious for their discomfort. Even the great man himself refused to sit upon them, and eventually blamed their design on one of his minions, Walter Burley Griffin as I recall.

But back to history. Cave men, at least from the evidence of their drawings, had no chairs. They sat upon the earth or whatever surface was handy. From looking carefully at surviving bas reliefs, it would seem that the Babylonians, Assyrians, and Hittites had a place to sit, even if only for the king and his ilk. The Greeks mostly sat on what looks like benches or bleachers, as did the early Romans. The Egyptians are a different story, if one is to believe Cecil B. DeMille, well known for the historical accuracy of his movies. If you’ve seen his classic “Ten Commandments,” you’ll remember Pharaoh Ramses, played by the eerily Egyptian-looking Yul Brynner, sitting upon a gaudy throne as he ordered the slaughter of the innocents.

It is to King Arthur that we owe the famous round table and chairs, now beloved of banquet halls around the world. Most illustrations I have seen show chairs of goodly heft, with Lions heads carved at the end of the arms. This chair form proved remarkably durable, since kings and other nabobs adopted somewhat larger versions for their thrones and the lower orders tended to emulate the furniture of their betters.

Chairs finally become less hefty in the 18^th Century Georgian era due mainly to the legendary Thomas Chippendale. Basing his designs on Chinese models, his chair backs had delicate designs, although the seats were large enough for the hefty bums of the era. Originals are quite expensive, but beware of forgeries advertised on E-Bay. By the way, Tom was something of an eccentric, given to dancing around in the nude clothed only in a formal collar and black tie.

Perhaps the most famous chair of the modern era is the Barcalounger reclining chair. Many a poet has mused while dozing off in its embrace. As it can be had with motorized reclining, it is the perfect marriage of art and science. Perhaps some day it might sprout wings and fly one to heavenly bliss!

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It’s All Bologna!

Posted on November 8, 2017November 8, 2017 by patnettecomcastnet

It’s All Bologna!

By Patrick F. Cannon

Not too many years ago, I strayed from the straight and narrow path and began eating a healthier lunch. One of the casualties of this tragic mistake was my beloved bologna and cheese sandwich.

It was simply made, but eminently eatable. You would take two pieces of good quality white bread (no Wonder Bread, please) and put a generous dollop of Heinz Ketchup (no substitutions) on one of them. This must be done ahead of time. In a cast-iron skillet, you would then toss a piece of Oscar Meyer regular bologna. While giving off some of its tasty fat, it would eventually curl up. Upon this inevitable occurrence, you would flip the bologna over and place a slice of Kraft American Cheese, folded to fit comfortably, on the sizzling meat. When the cheese was melted (if I was truly hungry, I confess that there might have been two pieces thus adorned), the bologna was moved via a spatula from skillet to pre-ketchupped bread and topped with the other slice.

As you might imagine – if you have any imagination at all – the result was culinary heaven. Then, alas, one began to hear the siren song of the benefits of the fat free diet. Instead of the ultimate sandwich, I began to eat flax-seed sticks and yogurt (and the odd cookie if truth be told). But, as so often happens, the experts eventually recanted and admitted (sheepishly, one hopes) that a certain amount of fat in the diet was actually beneficial! Eventually, even the much-maligned egg was rehabilitated.

Thus unshackled from the chains of goofy science, I resolved to return to my former love. Off to the Jewel I rushed and bought packages of Oscar Meyer Bologna and Kraft American Cheese Singles. (I have since discovered that Kraft now actually owns Oscar Meyer, whose butcher shop in Chicago started it all. And the whole kit and caboodle is now Kraft Heinz, for good or ill.) Upon arrival home, I immediately ketchupped a slice of bread and threw two pieces of bologna in the frying pan. To my utter amazement, almost no fat emanated from the meat; they just kind of sat there getting unappetizingly charred. Little or no curl!

What can have happened? I decided that poor Oscar had given in to the fat police and reduced the amount of fat in their signature sausage. While they must be admonished for this craven capitulation, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that many others adorn their packages with the dreaded “Lower, Reduced, or No Fat.” As everyone with any culinary sense knows, these should read “Lower Flavor, Reduced Flavor, or No Flavor at All.”

My friends and relatives know I’m addicted to the potato chip, one of the great American contributions to gastronomy. Now, I find it difficult to find a bag that doesn’t proudly proclaim that it has “40 Percent Less Fat” or some such. And although they don’t say so, I note with dismay that almost all brands now seem to lack enough salt! What is one to do when the conspiracy seems general? As for me, I drew the line when one famous national brand (It’s you Cape Cod) started proudly printing on their bags the stupid “No GMOs,” thus pandering to the sandal-clad lunatics who believe that rigorous scientific studies are a mere inconvenience.

Finally, if you know of a brand of bologna that has the fat content of old – that will begin giving it off as it hits the pan, will curl up as it should and not burn before the Kraft Processed American Cheese melts – please do let me know! You will do me, and gourmets everywhere, a great service!

Let’s Hear it for the Guys Who Don’t

Posted on November 2, 2017 by patnettecomcastnet

Let’s Hear it for the Guys Who Don’t

By Patrick F. Cannon

It seems like every day brings news about another male public figure being accused of some form of sexual harassment (this Monday it was Peyton Manning; on Tuesday, Kevin Spacey, albeit in a different category). The most attention has been given to the case of Harvey Weinstein, who seems to have heroically carried on the “casting couch” tradition of such legendary Hollywood producers as Jack Warner, Harry Cohn and David O. Selznick, to name only a few.

The saddest to me is the case of Bill Cosby, who so many people admired for his image as a “clean” comedian and his family-oriented television series. While he has yet to be convicted of any crime, I’m now convinced that at least some of the stories about his sexual predations are true. While I’m not sure there is any research to back this up, the entertainment industry (including the branch that passes for news) seems to be a particular hot bed of squalid activity.

The reason seems obvious – men have traditionally held positions of power over who will or will not work. Except in the few cases where an actress is so obviously superior that she can pick and choose when and where she will work, the number of actresses seeking work far exceeds the number of roles available. To use that power – which also exists in other industries – to gain sexual favors from vulnerable employees is an evil that should have been stamped out years ago. One only regrets that women have only recently felt able to call these monsters to account.

But as so often happens in a society more and more divided politically and socially, we tend to tar everyone with the same brush. Thus, to the radical feminists, all men are predators; indeed, to some of them, all sexual intercourse is rape (Mother Nature be damned!). In such an atmosphere, even the most innocent remark is judged against a standard no man can meet.

Yet, the great majority of men have never sexually harassed the women they work with or supervise. I know I never did, and am not aware of any man I worked with who did so in the 45 years I spent going to work (I confess I can sometimes be oblivious). For most of those years, I was a manager who supervised professionals, including managers. Most were women. While I won’t claim all of them thought I was perfect, none had reason to complain they were treated differently because of their sex.

Please understand that I am not naïve. I absolutely understand that women have been historically paid less than their male counterparts, and have had a long struggle to be considered equally for promotion. And I know that their struggles are not over by any means. But nothing is gained from lumping all men with the likes of Harvey Weinstein. Instead, let’s give some credit to the great majority of men – fathers, husbands, brothers – who held their tongues and kept their hands to themselves.

Finally, let me caution that not every accusation will be true, but will be immediately reported as such whether it has been investigated fully or not. If the accused is famous enough, the story will lead the network news and find its way to the front pages of major newspapers. The damage done to the subject’s reputation and career will be immediate, and lasting, whether or not the accusation is later proved false. Such is the tenor of our times.

Is it a Caddy, Daddy?

Posted on October 26, 2017October 26, 2017 by patnettecomcastnet

(Inspiration did come this week, but needs a bit more time to come to fruition, so this week I offer you a “Greatest Hit” from the past.)

Is it a Caddy, Daddy?

By Patrick F. Cannon

There was great jubilation at the University of Chicago recently when a work of art that many had feared might have been lost forever was returned to its rightful place on the University’s Hyde Park campus.

Titled “Concrete Traffic,” it was by the well known German modernist Wolf Vostell (1932-1998). Vostell was a leader in the early days of video art and in organizing the “happenings” that were such a feature of the art world in the 1960s and 1970s. In this case, he took a 1957 Cadillac Coupe Deville and encased it in concrete. Commissioned by the fledgling Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago (now celebrating its 50^th anniversary), it was finished in 1970 and parked in a nearby parking lot. It was there for some time and apparently accumulated numerous parking tickets. Who paid the tickets seems lost to history. As for me, I wondered how they were attached, since there were no windshield wipers. Perhaps the cops taped them on the concrete, artfully one hopes.

Anyway, the sculpture was eventually donated to the University of Chicago, where it graced the campus until moved into storage to make way for the construction of the Logan Center for the Arts. In storage it may have remained – slowly crumbling away – were it not for art historian Christine Mehring. She heard about it, and arranged a visit. What she found appalled her. Here was this great work of 20^th Century art moldering away out of public view. Hunks of concrete were actually missing, as if it were merely a public sidewalk or something!

It was a challenge, and one that Professor Mehring has heroically met. At a cost of some $500,000, “Concrete Traffic” has been restored and proudly placed in a stall of honor at the University’s main parking garage. You may wonder how it could have possibly cost that much to do a bit of concrete patching. Instead of going to Craig’s List for a local concrete guy, they sought out the experts who had restored the concrete at Frank Lloyd Wright’s Guggenheim Museum in Manhattan. While the niceties might be lost to the layman, there is a great difference between a concrete conservator and a concrete repairer. The former usually has a beard and charges more. I should mention that the only visible parts of the Caddy are its white wall tires. As you might expect, expert opinion was also sought on the proper tire pressure.

The result, according to Mehring, is a work from an “important transitional period from the happenings in the 1960s to the monumental sculptures and environments of the 1970s.” Since Herr Vostel is no longer with us, his intended meaning is lost to us. Most people think it was an ironic comment on the wasteful consumer culture of America, typified by the land yachts that floated over the (concrete) superhighways that connected our car-mad cities, towns, villages and hamlets.

Europeans in the 1960s, burdened as they were by astronomical gas taxes, tended to drive around in cars like the VW Beetle and the iconic French classic, the Renault 2CV, which, I recall, had a suspension that consisted of husky rubber bands and tore down French roads at a breathtaking 50 miles per hour.

As it happens, I was in France in 1961-62, courtesy of the United States Army. In 1962, the Tour de France was going to pass through La Rochelle, where I was stationed. One day, my buddies and I were watching some of the preparations from a table at a harbor-front outdoor café. Imagine our surprise when a pink Cadillac convertible pulled up and parked in front of the café. Out came two couples, middle-aged and prosperous looking. The spotted us for Americans immediately and happily (for us) plied us with drink and food. They were Texans and, for a lark, were following the Tour around France.

While all this was going on, the Caddy was drawing a crowd. The looks on the French faces was not ironic disgust, but wonder and envy. The only place in France where one could then see a Cadillac was Paris, where they tended to be black and chauffer driven.

Alas, there aren’t too many Caddy convertibles of that vintage to be seen here anymore. Those that survive are cherished; many are housed in museums. But, thanks to Professor Mehring and her colleagues, you can at least sense the existence of a 1957 Coupe Deville beneath the concrete at the University’s parking garage at 55^th and Ellis. If you want to park near it, it will cost you four bucks an hour. But walk-ins are always free. At the cost of a little shoe leather, you can relive the ironic “happenings” of a bygone era. And wonder, as I have, how they’re going to change the tires when they inevitably collapse under the 34,000 pound weight of German irony.

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