The other night, after my daughters arrived at their mom’s for the week, I texted to them “sorry if it seems boring over here.”  After a couple of them told me it’s not, my oldest added “you’re just getting old.” 

Such a sweetheart.

During the exchange, I wondered if part of this third phase of fatherhood/parenthood is that they entertain me more.  “Tables turned,” she confirmed.

I define this final stage of their time under my roof as when they start to leave the nest.  My oldest is in the middle of applying to, and fielding acceptances from various colleges and universities.  Since her youngest sister is in the fifth grade, this phase will last seven more years.

The most important phase of parenthood however, is at the other end of the spectrum; the first one.  This lasts roughly through the elementary school years, and is the one that requires the most diligence.

Obviously it starts with steering children clear of danger.  Establishing certain standards and guidelines comes next. 

Showing them right from wrong.  Introducing them to a proper diet.  Eschewing television for reading.  Not being afraid to tell them “no” (learning to appreciate the comedic gold provided by subsequent temper tantrums makes this one an underrated joy). 

Bridging phase one and two sees the introduction of hobbies, special interests, extracurricular activities, etc.  All this can be put at risk in the event of a divorce, which happened to me.

I love my daughters dearly.  They’re the most important part of my life.  They’re also my best opportunity to improve society, my positive spillover if you will.  I wasn’t going to let my divorce from their mother (the best one they could have) ruin that.

We learn about externalities/spillovers in my microeconomics classes.  When a coal-fired power plant emits pollution, residents outside its service area bear some cost.  Hence, a negative externality has occurred. 

When a person avoids becoming infected by the coronavirus because people around her are successfully vaccinated, she’s the beneficiary of a positive spillover.

We see citizens fret all the time about the downfall of our society, whether it’s due to environmental concerns, abortion, racial strife, economic concerns, etc.  We see them on T.V. at protests.  They bark at each other, both directly and in the abstract, on social media.

I engage in some of it myself, but I try not to get too swept up.  There’s only so much I can do.  I teach.  I try to make an informed, principled vote.  The biggest effect I can have however, is talking to my daughters about whatever is going on.    

The divorce is probably what spurred my obsession to make sure they were entertained.  Now, at the dawn of phase three, they seem to be returning the favor. 

This comes as no surprise though.  Early on in phase one, I remember thinking that I didn’t need Comedy Central anymore.  And that was before the goofiest, most spastic of the four was born! 

Regardless, she’s as much proof as her sisters that our focus in phase one paid off.  They are as respectful, disciplined, intelligent (all well within the top 10% of their respective classes) and problem-free as I could have hoped for.  It’s made the transition from phase two to three a relative breeze.

Thanks to my oldest’s college application essays, a lesson from my macro class also came to mind.  It’s a relatively mythical one that arguably exists only in Keynesian economists’ models: the multiplier effect.  This has compounded the spillover effect. 

The way she described her sisters, and what she’s learned from each of them, was nothing short of heartwarming.  It’s rivaled only by her career goal, as a psychologist, of “destigmatizing and relieving mental and emotional disorders,” primarily amongst young people. 

Given such a noble cause, I can’t help but want her to succeed, wildly.  There is a small part of me however, that would count it as a mark of increased parenting success, if she eventually had to move up the age demographic of her clientele in order to stay busy. 
​
More than a mere spillover, that would be a positively torrential deluge.

HM2: "Exhibit B: The Human Condition" Exodus
HM1: "The Dream Calls for Blood" Death Angel

10. "Aenima" Tool
9. "South of Heaven" Slayer
8. "Rainier Fog" Alice in Chains
7. "Back in Black" AC/DC
6. "Back for the Attack" Dokken
5. "La Gorgola" Chevelle
4. "Powerslave" Iron Maiden
3. "Rust in Peace" Megadeth
2. "For All Kings" Anthrax
​1. "Master of Puppets" Metallica

Remember as a kid when you used to imagine what you’d do with a million dollars?  Get a massive, Charlie-Benante-sized drum set.  Buy a Lamborghini.  Hire a chef to prepare whatever you want for every meal.

Well that was my wish-list anyway.  Taxes never occurred to me.  I’m guessing though, being a kid, I would have hired someone to take care of that as well, regardless of how much I owed.  I’d be rich; what’s to worry about?

Michael Taylor addresses taxes from a similar angle.  Except he’s an adult, and “Smart Money” columnist for the San Antonio Express-News.

His latest 2020 misfire comes while detailing democrat Joe Biden’s tax plans if elected president this week/month.  The virtue-signaling, to borrow a recent catchphrase, lives loudly in him when he “promise(s) to not complain” about paying Mr. Biden’s 2% tax on wealth greater than $50 million.  “I aspire … to be in a position to pay that tax” he gushes.

Silly me; I’d be happy just to have a few million in the bank.  The “position” I envision that comes with handing over a piece of what I’ve earned under threat of imprisonment includes a barrel.

Mr. Taylor focuses on what he implies is not “earned income,” like what you and I get paid for our respective forty-hour gigs.  But it’s not entirely accurate.

He’s certainly correct that the tax rate on the sale of financial assets – capital gains – is lower than a few of the marginal rates that apply to wage income.  The intuitive aspect he and other tax proponents regularly omit is that the resources used to buy those financial assets were originally derived from wage income.

Moreover, given how much in financial assets is owned by the wealthier amongst us, it’s pretty likely that those wage earnings were taxed at some of those higher income rates.

With this double (or more) taxation in mind, one wonders exactly what “morals” Mr. Taylor has in mind.  The “economic merits” of taxing such expendable wealth at low levels, considering prosperity and progress springs from it, are self-evident.

The same goes for inheritances, and it’s here that Mr. Taylor goes the extra mile into disingenuousness.

When discussing merely the “unity principles” struck by Mr. Biden and former rival, socialist Bernie Sanders, he cites the aim of reverting estate taxes to where they were in 2009.

Part of President George W. Bush’s tax cuts in the early 2000s was reducing that tax.  It went from exempting all estates below $675 thousand from the 60% rate, to zero percent for all in 2010.  Over the decade, the exemption went up, as the rate went down. 

If “set(ting)” that 2009 rate at a lower 45% on a higher exemption of $3.5 million was “socialistic,” I’m curious how Mr. Taylor characterizes where it settled the next year.

Maybe he was just being coy.  The targets for his tax “aspirations” can be the same way.

Some people I grew up with went on to own successful businesses.  I once asked one that I graduated with for his take on the minimum wage, how did it affect his business?  He demurred, saying “I just want to sell some chicken.”

I suspect people like him are proud of what they’ve built, the diligent work and frugal habits they have parlayed into productive endeavors.  By nature, they quite possibly don’t appreciate being dictated to by bureaucrats who might not qualify to be in their private sector employ. 
​
Being successful business people, they have public relations to be concerned with.  They’re smart enough not to provide fodder for those who “aspire” to accumulate seven figures of wealth only to giddily hand over a significant chunk to a wasteful sinkhole like the government.  

Before I found (hard) rock n roll, I listened to Casey Kasem's Top 40 every Sunday morning.  That's actually where I heard Quiet Riot for the first time.  Then I heard "Jump." 

It was the first such song to both get a rise out of me AND hit #1.  When it fell out of the top spot, I remember Casey saying the rankings were based on sales and airplay, so I immediately called KVIC to request it.  "Since it was just played on the top 40, we have to wait a while to play it again" I was told.

Fine.  I bought the single.  Then I bought "I'll Wait," and "Panama," and "Hot for Teacher."  From that point on, I was an album man.

Fast forward a couple years.

Trey Tagliabue (RIP) and I had a radio show in our tech class at Crain MS.  I knew as soon as I heard the intro to "Good Enough," we had to play it.

These are my most acute VH memories.  I wasn't a huge VH fan, but I had most of their albums.  Even though I went on to faster, harder, more aggressive music, EVH was a once-in-a-lifetime guitarist in my larger world of rock n roll.  He was like Michael Jordan, Wayne Gretzky, et al.  

If there's a Mt. Rushmore of hard rock, I can't imagine anyone would dispute a place for EVH's bust there.  

There's everyone else, and then there's Eddie Van Halen.  RIP.

​Every so often, I like to quip “every issue comes back to an episode of ‘South Park’.”  My wife, daughters and sister usually roll their eyes: “yeah right, dad.” 

Randy Marsh, father of one of the main characters, is frequently caught up in such lessons.  The most jaw-dropping perhaps was when, as a contestant on “Wheel of Fortune,” he incorrectly guessed, with a certain-to-win gusto, the final clue to be the n-word.  This summer has reminded me of that episode. 

My two oldest daughters (a senior and sophomore in high school) came home one Sunday in May asking what I thought about “white privilege.”  It proved a rather lively discussion since it was the first newsy topic they’d ever asked about.  As fate would have it, George Floyd was killed the next day in Minneapolis.   

As time has passed, I’ve been as dismayed by the fallout as anyone.  It’s been difficult for me to process, much less express my thoughts.  There have been subsequent, sometimes contentious exchanges between my daughters on one side, and their mother and I on the other.   

My wife on the other hand, has simply listened to them.  That is something I have set out to do with my black friends, a characterization I have always loathed.  My friends are my friends regardless of race, but the situation being what it is, I’ve reached out to them directly. 

I’ve arrived at roughly the same place I’ve always been. 

If John, for example, refuses to acknowledge that “black lives matter,” that’s his problem.  It’s also a problem for society since there are other “***holes” (to quote a friend) who share his attitude. 

However, let’s say Mary comes along and firmly acknowledges that “black lives matter,” but proceeds to add on that “red/brown/yellow/white lives also matter.”  If there’s still a problem it doesn’t reside within Mary, but rather within the person, say Bob, who insists she stop after the “black lives” recognition.   

Bob has exposed himself as a bully intent on shutting down the full expression of Mary’s beliefs, which is affirming what doesn’t matter: skin color.   
 
At one point this summer, my sophomore expressed a desire to make the KKK illegal (President Trump recently proposed designating them as a terrorist organization), to which one of my buddies joked “yeah, their last 100 members and their 100 teeth.”  Can we instead leave behind the Johns and Bobs?  Just let them stew in their own miserable existence, preferably for all to see. 

The rest of us should move forward. 

By the end of that “South Park” episode, the white boys admit to their black friend that they can’t relate to his feelings when the n-word is muttered.   

White people don’t know what it’s like to be a black person, who doesn’t know what it’s like to be a yellow person, who doesn’t know what it’s like to be a red person, etc. etc.  The most I can tell my girls is to live by example, respect who their friends/peers are regardless of their race.   

Given the discourse in our house over the summer, and a view of their friends, they absorbed that lesson a long time ago. 

If they feel strongly though, and comfortable enough, they should speak out.  Then we can address our collective problems that make the ground fertile for such tensions. 

We need to liberate parents’ ability to choose their children’s education.  We have to realize that ‘free’ college, or at least greater public aid isn’t actually costless, whether the result is useless degrees, a more worthless dollar or greater expense to the taxpayer.   

And once our kids become productive adults, we need to stop allowing politicians and bureaucrats to loot them with all manner of property and income taxes.  This serves no other purpose than to produce wards of the state, to which our alleged “public servants” hold the key. 

Perhaps most importantly though, is that fathers need to step up.  I can attest personally to the reality of a broken marriage.  However, when we decided to have kids (or did what was necessary to make it possible … ahem), we became locked into a duty to both them, and society as a whole.   

Shortcomings in all these areas contribute to resentment in one demographic or another.   

This is not at all to let police reform off the hook, like addressing what’s known as “qualified immunity.”  I simply tend to explore root causes rather than waiting for symptoms to fester. 

The whole “____ lives matter” has produced silly offshoots anyway.  “Blue Lives Matter” comes to mind.  If that’s a thing, then I’m one of the “black” lives that matters due to how much black I wear.  In that same vein, my “Red, White and Blue” life matters.   
​
For Americans, the latter should arguably take primacy anyway.  

Until disco came back to me at dance clubs and via the great “Boogie Nights” in the 1990s, I didn’t recall a whole lot from my childhood in the 1970s.  Trying to build my own “Speed Racer” and being in awe of the rock group KISS stand out.
 
“Too many dollars chasing too few goods” was another.  That was the catchphrase used to describe the inflationary times, and it would be the last time monetary issues/policy would make sense to me for many, many years.
 
It’s not my favorite topic to deal with in class.  Explaining money on the other hand, is pretty straightforward.
 
Technically, we don’t need it to survive.  We simply need to be able to produce a good or service of some value to others.  Since trying to translate that into terms of what another person produces (bartering) tends to gum up the gears of commerce, we have money.
 
At various points in time, salt has been used as currency, as has tobacco.  George Washington wrote about using wampum.  Whatever is in steady supply at the time, and holds an agreed-upon value can be used as money.  For much of our history, it was gold.
 
Rather than having to produce all that is necessary to survive, money allows us to specialize in just one or two tasks.  We can then trade with others to get what we need, or possibly want. 
 
Needless to say, the more productive we are, the more we can earn, and the stronger our currency, the more we can get with it.  More importantly, a stable currency is conducive to investment, imperative even to the groundbreaking variety. 
 
It’s no coincidence that was the order of the day before the link to gold was severed, and then in the booming 1980s and 1990s.  Since then, policymakers have become seduced by a weak dollar, and we’ve paid the price.
 
We went from a housing bubble that was pushed to a bursting point under President Bush, to an oil and gas balloon he handed to, and that subsequently ruptured under President Obama.  The oil market blew-up anew and crashed even harder in Obama’s second term, only to be outdone earlier this year.
 
And now we have “big-time … institutional investors” pouring capital into farmland.  This is typical of what happens when the dollar deteriorates.
 
When such a trend takes hold, a currency is necessarily losing stability.  This makes returns on investment more uncertain, and likely less thanks to the devaluation.  Who would invest $1 now if odds are increasing that eventual gains will be less than that $1?  Hence, investment tends to migrate in part, to already-established goods as a way to hold value.
 
A weak dollar is why a product that is generally in steady demand, for which there is a steady supply, sees its price soar from time to time.  There is no reason the price of oil, or gas, should ever fluctuate much.  But since it is priced in dollars, when their value dwindles, it takes more to buy it. 
 
The seduction is so powerful that society views as an “investment” something so basic as the roof over our head. 
 
Nevertheless, some, including President Trump, are smitten with the notion of a weak dollar due to the supposed trade benefits it confers.  The weakening trend since he took office (or really since his candidacy started gaining steam in 2016), and particularly over the last couple years, is no surprise given his administration’s rhetoric and moves to raise trade barriers.
 
The theory goes that a devalued dollar increases exports by making them cheaper than foreign goods in international markets.  There is truth to that, but there are also drawbacks.
 
First, workers will be paid in dollars that are worth less, offsetting gains possibly realized by exporting industries.  Second, other countries could very well view this as currency manipulation with the aim of gaining such a trade advantage, and therefore move to weaken their own in response. 
 
Perhaps just as importantly though, is the message it sends about how officials view their country’s past, its future, and its people.
 
When a government intervenes in the market to give its domestic industries a leg up, it is focusing on what is/has been.  At best, it is attempting to forcibly solidify their position in the world.  At worst, its efforts aid ailing companies.
 
In addition to the increased costs incurred by all of us for the benefit of a few, this comes at the increasing expense of a country’s future.
 
Since investors are repelled by a weak dollar, their money gravitates elsewhere, and our lead role paving the way to the future is eroded.
 
All this demonstrates a lack of faith in the capacity of people in existing industries to compete, in the ability of displaced workers to adjust, and an obliviousness to the fact that we’re kneecapping the ability of American innovators to access capital to push forward into new frontiers. 
 
This tendency toward protectionism has shades of countries that go full-bore into state control.  Rather than allow their people to flourish unimpeded, the former Soviet Union and Venezuela for example, cannibalized what they had up to that point in their respective history.
 
It’s ironic then, that President Trump has nominated for positions at the Federal Reserve, candidates who have spoken favorably about the gold standard, and by extension a strong dollar regime.  It seems to work against his desire, and frankly that of most politicians, to manipulate markets. 
 
Make no mistake.  When those politicians use past association with the president as a pretext to oppose nominations like that of Judy Shelton, it’s nothing more than masking a fear of giving up control.  The opportunity to ride to the rescue when bubbles of their inflation burst is too valuable to give up.
 
And it’s only going to get worse the more power modern monetary theorists (MMT) gain.  Gone will be whatever last little bit of respect political busybodies had for the value of work as measured by the earnings which accrues to it.  The printing press will go into overdrive while the dollar will cheapen to the level of the tissue you blow your nose into.
 
 
It’s reasons like this is why I look forward to the start of every school year, and the opportunity to implore students to “keep it simple” (KISs) when considering what we learn, or just in general.  One of the first things I tell them is that I’m merely putting flesh on the bones of things they already know. 
 
They know a night out with their friends is the (opportunity) cost of instead choosing to hang out with their family.  They know the ultimate decision on how many chicken strips they’ll eat depends upon when they’re satisfied; their diminishing marginal utility. 
 
Even my daughters know me cutting those strips in half wouldn’t mean the total quantity of food has doubled, yet that’s exactly how policymakers will try to snooker them as adults by manipulating our fiat currency.

Word came down recently that K-12 students in San Antonio will start the 2020-2021 school year like they ended that of 2019-2020; online.

It’s a disappointing development given what we know about children’s relative resistance to the coronavirus, its worst fallout, and “growing evidence” of the efficacy of wearing masks.  It’s enough to make one pine for reform.

@JUJU_AnR tweeted the idea for teachers to “charge $250 a week to home school ten kids.”  Some responses could be summarized as “disregard for poor kids” because “most people can’t afford that.”  That’s where school choice comes in, a system to which magnet schools here bear some resemblance.

Some cater to students with a nose for construction, while others specialize in the arts.  There’s one communications school just down the road from here, with another with an engineering focus a few miles in the other direction. 

There are yet others that concentrate on law and agriculture, just to name a few. 

The problem is that students are largely restricted to the magnets within their respective independent school districts (ISD).

When an Amazon is dropping a fulfillment center in northeast Bexar County, or a Toyota decides to build Tacomas and Tundras on the far south side, they’re picking the area as a whole.  We should run our education system similarly. 

On first glance, replacing area ISDs with a single education “zone” may look more like centralization, the opposite of effective reform.  However, including within that framework a couple of crucial changes would prove otherwise.

One of those is that all schools in this “zone” would be completely autonomous and privately-owned.

Just like any other going-concern, schools need the ultimate incentive to offer the best product at the lowest price, and that’s the threat of going out of business if it fails. 

The great teachers we have should be free to try new, innovative methods, and they should be able to move to schools owned by people who ‘get’ their particular vision.  Just as importantly, they should be able to open up a school of their own if they can’t find that match.

This freedom would additionally attract newcomers who previously may have been put off by bureaucratic or regulatory limitations.

The main, if not only function this “zone” would serve would be finances, which is where a couple other changes come in.  The first is ditching property taxes. 

It’s already a specious proposition that someone could lose their lawfully-owned home due to failure to pay this tax, but it also introduces inefficiencies into the housing/rental market, and is a disincentive to productive economic behavior.

Funding should derive rather, from the least destructive form of taxation; that on consumption.

Children’s legal guardians would take it from there with perhaps the most important change: proportionate allotments for each child to use on the school that best suits them, with zero strings attached.

If we extrapolate out @JUJU_AnR’s figure, we come to $10,000 per student per school year.  Since it’s roughly in line with reality, we’ll stick with that.  Tuitions of various schools however, wouldn’t necessarily be as rigid.  Prices don’t sit still, and that’s a good thing. 

Price is one of the most efficient, valuable disseminators of information.  When a good or service succeeds in pleasing customers, demand for it increases.  No surprise there, but it gets better.  The provider then must make a decision.

It could raise prices, thereby putting a more representative value on the service.  That in turn would attract competitors offering either a lower price, more for the same price, or perhaps some combination of the two.  Or, the original provider could open up another branch. 

The ensuing competition would put a lid on prices, and floor under quality. 

No doubt there are some who would raise a stink about parents possibly pocketing the difference between their respective allotment, and a lower tuition they might pay.  Maybe they would parlay it into a college fund.  Who knows?
 
The alternative however, where the government pays the schools directly, would produce something resembling our current health care system, and its subsequent third-party-payer-induced inflation.

We’ll take that tradeoff.  Parents’ ability to keep the change is a small price compared to what we all pay now. 

Life is tough enough for children when their families live paycheck-to-paycheck, one parent is absent, bullies run rampant, etc.  They shouldn’t be relegated to underperforming schools as well.  Nor should they have to move across town, or exploit residence loopholes, to change schools.

It’s difficult to take seriously the compassion opponents purport to have “for the children” when they get hung up on the decisions made, or not made, by (other) parents.  Are they insufficiently qualified to make these decisions for their own kids?  Do elitists simply enjoy holding “(they) can’t afford” it over their heads? 

Moreover, their intellect comes into question when claiming that the use of such public allotments for religious schools is tantamount to the government making a “law respecting an establishment of religion.”  Always unclear is which religion it is: Catholicism, Islam, Judaism, etc.

The Los Angeles Teacher’s Union recently provided the starkest example yet of how little those in power actually care about “the children.”  More than any other reform, school choice could put that power where it would do the most good.
===
Co-written with Dr. John Merrifield, professor emeritus at UT-San Antonio, president of the Institute for Objective Policy Assessment, and author most recently of "School System Reform: How and Why is a Price-less Tale," and also "A Fiscal Cliff: New Perspectives on the U.S. Federal Debt Crisis," "School Choices: True and False" and "The School Choice Wars."

2019 may have been my best concert year ever.  Iron Maiden put on their best performance I’ve ever seen.  I finally saw one of my very favorite bands, Alice in Chains, and I found a death metal band to my liking, Obituary.

I represented my fair share of what the National Independent Venue Association (NIVA) reports as 172 million American concert attendees last year.  I was stoked to keep that going in 2020, starting with a Testament show in April, and Megadeth / Lamb of God in August.

Then the coronavirus swept those, and most other shows/tours away.  Now, over 600 musicians are supporting “NIVA’s request for federal assistance for independent music venues.” 

They run the gamut from bands I listen to (Exodus and Power Trip), to what I grew up around (Randy Travis and Alabama), to more mainstream acts (Coldplay and John Mellencamp), to what my daughters listen to (Logic and Madison Beer).  Even comics like Ray Romano and Lisa Lampanelli have joined the chorus.

The signatories cut across political lines as well, including (past) republican voters Alice Cooper, Pat Boone and Lee Greenwood.

There’s one other thing these artists have in common: they’re all wrong. 

The arrival of the coronavirus has provoked a harried response from people.  We didn’t know what we were dealing with.  We heard it was worse than the seasonal flu.  We saw traumatic firsthand accounts from emergency room and intensive care units.

Elected leaders acted. 

Whether or not forcible lockdowns were necessary is debatable, given the measures that prudent people and businesses were already starting to take.  Alas, they happened, and we’ve had time to learn more and prepare for any continued fallout. 

That’s one reason there shouldn’t be too many worries that “the shutdown last(s) six months,” after which the petitioners believe “90% of independent venues … will never reopen.”  Consequently, there should be no more “federal assistance.”

At some point the gravy train to the federal trough needs to come to a screeching halt, for ALL who ride it. 

Comedian Dennis Miller once joked about Uncle Sam’s budget deficit “do we actually owe somebody that money?  And if we do, (expletive) ‘em, don’t pay ‘em.”  Though that was two presidential cycles ago, policymakers have been testing the limits of deficit-spending well before his quip.  A couple generations in, it has become accepted orthodoxy in some economic circles. 

Modern Monetary Theory (MMT) is what they call it.  Basically, since we print our own currency, we can have all the goodies we want, and never have to worry about defaulting on the debt we’ve accrued getting them. 

Among the points of contention with MMT, one that pops up in this discussion is spending, which is the real problem regardless what we think about the subsequent debt.

Since it is politically-directed by people who did not earn the prospective funding, it requires next to no market discipline, and is therefore subject to a heightened likelihood of waste.  Moreover, as with all bailouts, motivation to change with the times is eroded. 

In order to provide peace of mind to customers these days, businesses have to adapt.  Just as we now see social-distancing stickers on the ground at grocery stores, and plastic partitions at nail salons, perhaps some seats need to be pulled from venues, for example. 

More than a few acts however, don’t envision a return to the live music experience many of us have come to know, including the kind to which I’m partial, where “standing room only” is more like “stand if you can.” 

What then of all these established venues asking for an “investment” (a scene in “Goodfellas” comes to mind, when Sonny Bunz asks “Paulie” Cicero to “take a piece” in his restaurant)?  Will we see follow-up requests?  Is that when taxpayer-funded drives for “historical preservation” kick in?

Milton Friedman wasn’t just being witty when he said there is “nothing so permanent as a temporary government program.”

In the meantime, a creative mind might very well come along with an imaginative new venue design for performers itching to get back on stage.  Incidentally, one group of folks that might have some ideas are the artists themselves. 

Between well-established performers like Jerry Seinfeld, Lady Gaga, Billy Joel and Ozzy, they’re quite likely able to seed some of these ideas with financial capital, both for new venues and the current, struggling ones.  If they’re genuinely passionate about it, there should be no need to tap the taxpayer.

One thing they should probably stay away from though is economic analysis. 

Some of these places with which I’m familiar, in Austin and Corpus Christi as well as here in the Alamo City, aren’t exactly “driver(s) of economic renewal.”  Even a venue surrounded by trendy shops and restaurants like the Cynthia Woods Pavilion in Houston doesn’t fit that bill.

This is the same faulty reasoning employed to sell a public on raising taxes on itself (or passing the cost on to tourists, essentially disinviting them from visiting, but nevermind) in order to build a new sports stadium. 

Unless a venue has the effect of attracting a manufacturing plant, or a software development company, or an engineering firm, it’s not an “engine” of anything other than the most over-credited part of an economy; consumption, the last part of the cycle that literally destroys all value created to that point.

Regardless, there’s less activity of any kind happening if these venues are sitting empty.  Fortunately, that’s not necessarily the case, as some shows are starting to fill their respective calendars.  That begs the question; why the plea for “not a handout?”

Come and Take It Live, the place in Austin where a buddy and I saw Obituary last September, has fourteen shows scheduled for July, but for an average cover of only around $10.  A particularly appealing one, Slaterica (“the world’s only Slayer / Pantera / Metallica cover band”) is a free benefit for autism.

I’d be happy to hand over a few bucks for that show, but not if in their other hand they have a hat extended to congress. 

It’s safe to say that the events of this year, between the shutdowns, protests and rioting, have worn out many of us, and shown the value of coming together, physically, around common interests.  With family and friends sure, but also with strangers. 

For most of my adult life, I’ve looked like the oddball at these concerts.  But as with sporting events, for example, we’re all there for the same reason: to enjoy a common interest.  This is arguably one area that genuinely weaves a community a bit tighter together. 

If venues require a face-covering to get in, I’ve built up a sweet collection of masks and bandanas.  If they want to zap my forehead to take my temperature at the door, that’s fine.  If they close off the (mosh) pits due to safety concerns, so be it.  That would also serve as a lengthy barrier between the fans and the performers, as would a massive, clear curtain that some restaurants have employed. 
​
I can’t be the only one who’s ready for these events to return.  Let’s do this!  

One thing is for sure: San Antonio Express-News (EN) “Smart Money” columnist Michael Taylor has been telling like it is lately regarding national fiscal policy. 
 
He sums it up neatly in his June 14th column on Modern Monetary Theory, the belief that as long as a government prints its own money, it “never (has) to worry about defaulting on the debt.” 
 
Although policymakers have been testing this theory (particularly so this century) since the inflation of the 1970s was brought to heel, he accurately pegs President Trump with the dubious distinction of being our first MMT president.   
 
The only misstep he makes along the way is repeating the popular myth that cutting taxes “add(s) … to the national debt” (spending is always and everywhere the culprit).  That’s an improvement on prior columns dating back to March.
 
But EN readers wouldn’t know that.
 
When he reported on the possibility of a universal basic income becoming a reality thanks to some nanny-state republicans, he mistakenly claimed that such a transfer was a “previously untried solution to alleviating the effects of a recession.”  He then compared it favorably to a similar program in one of our least populous states (Alaska), disregarding the challenges of scale.
 
A month later, he claimed “a more libertarian approach” to welfare would be to essentially increase outlays.  Not one principled libertarian would agree. 
 
But it’s not just Mr. Taylor.
 
Though the EN has paid lip service to landlord concerns, the only voices we’ve heard are those promoting a “taxpayer subsidy” as a “gift,” one that decries the “shortcomings of our current economic system,” and one based on a distorted interpretation of the U.S. Constitution.
 
Not one substantive, principled defense of the rental transaction is anywhere to be found. 
 
In fact, the only commentary I’ve seen in recent months that could be understood as conservative-leaning was one calling “for big government to get lean.”  Delightful was the thought of Keynesian and FDR worshipers’ heads’ spinning at the line “officials must cut spending if the Texas economy is to fully recover,” but I digress. 
 
To area newspaper readers newly engaged in government, politics and economics, this unanimity of views becomes the uncontested gospel.  The issue is even more acute in these days of mostly one-newspaper towns.
 
It’s distinctly possible that the newsroom and editors are guided by the misconception that what’s good for the consumer (which is all of us) rules above all, especially since there are so few producers.  After all, the broader media and political establishment has misled the public into believing that consumer spending drives economic growth. 
 
Setting aside for the moment the impropriety of domineering, extractive measures levied against a particular segment of the population, such actions are not without unintended, counterproductive consequences.
 
You can’t enact numerous rental regulations without expecting a decrease in the quantity and/or quality of housing.  You can’t make welfare easier and be surprised when employment drops.  You can’t overly tax, in a complicated way no less, and be shocked when investment declines, thereby hampering the real source of prosperity. 
 
A news organization doesn’t have be expert about these angles, but it performs a disservice to a reading public when it doesn’t at least present balancing views.
 
In fairness, though I take advantage of full online access, I have only the Sunday edition of the EN delivered to my doorstep (I’m old-fashioned that way), so I may have missed some counterpoint essays.  It’s not for lack of trying to update my subscription though. 
 
The customer service folks I’ve talked with, polite though they’ve been, seemed clueless on how to help me.  My efforts online met the same end, and I’ve personally heard similar accounts from leaders in local academic, finance and business circles.  
 
When the EN overhauled last year, and the paper was downsized, I was sympathetic to the argument that “giving content away … for free” is not the way to go.  It’s why I also subscribe to The Wall Street Journal and New York Times.  I’m no newspaper operations manager, but that might point to room for improvement.
 
As much as we consume national news these days, why not focus more on local issues, including substituting more local perspectives for the nationally syndicated columns?  If space can be made for the false assertion that “it’s the working class that built this city,” certainly there’s room to enlighten readers of the entrepreneurial vision that made it a possibility in the first place. 
 
A couple years ago, for our first anniversary (paper being the traditional gift), my wife arranged a tour of the EN facility.  It was a cool experience, despite it being a fraction of what it used to be.  As I’ve told the new editor, I strongly believe in the importance of a solid local/regional newspaper. 
 
The aforementioned are merely concerns and ideas humbly submitted by one subscriber

When I saw the newsflash that Governor Greg Abbott retrenched somewhat on “reopening” Texas, I was disappointed.  Sad, almost.

Positive coronavirus tests have been spiking lately.  So have covid-19 cases, hospitalization and ICU occupancy.  Should we be all that surprised though, once we realize that this ailment isn’t going anywhere?  What sensible, respectful, compassionate person could support restrictions on the free movement and association of fellow citizens who “might” have it, or “might” get it?

As to the governor’s motives for dialing things back, a few possibilities comes to mind.  One is that he’s a tyrant.  Though shutdowns are certainly overbearing in nature, given what I’ve seen of him, he doesn’t strike me as despotic.

Another is that he’s trying to please voters, the swing variety in particular.  It seems highly unlikely he would try to appease folks who probably wouldn’t vote for him in any case.

Thirdly, maybe he simply cares.

Call me a softie or naïve, but I try to assume the best of people until proven otherwise.  Sometimes that assumption proves wrong.  When/if it doesn’t, a bond is formed.  Or, in the case of leaders who you’ll never meet, a degree of respect and admiration is fostered. 

Let’s assume for the moment that it’s the third option.  Does it matter?  Should it?  I say no.

It’s not the governor’s job to care, at least to this extent.  We too often allow, nay ask elected representatives to “do something” to show they care.  What government program isn’t ostensibly underlined with that premise?  It’s a cruel irony that such actions mostly make things worse, shield some from doing the right thing, or condemns “beneficiaries” to a grim future.

The only people we should expect to care about us is our family and friends; first and foremost, our parents.  They are the only ones who should ever act as our caretakers.

They are the ones who are supposed to imbue us with a sense of right and wrong, some semblance of common sense, a respect for others.  Those lessons may also come from a teacher, relative, et al, but our primary guardians are that first line.

If people want to throw caution to the wind, gather in crowded places, not wear masks and/or respect personal space, that’s on them, and to a degree those who raised and/or choose to associate with them.  These folks are sending a clear signal to others, especially in this day and age of social media, “checking-ins”, evidence of whereabouts via selfies, etc.

If anything, we should thank bars, beaches and venues for mass gatherings for being that light shone on those not protecting themselves, and subsequently all who could come into future contact with them.

This pandemic has put a price on poor judgment, apathetic guidance and the like.  It could be as little as being temporarily knocked on your behind sapped of energy, or as much as losing your life.
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That price shouldn’t be incurred, or shared by those trying to make their way in life the best, smartest way they can, especially those providing a quasi-public service of exposing the others.