Thank goodness for the first amendment and social media!  The former has allowed amateur comedians to flourish and share their wares via the latter, mostly in the form of humorous memes.  It’s come in handy by providing comic relief as concern about the coronavirus outbreak has swept the land.

I took a stab by offering a quip about the stash of wine bottle corks my wife and I have stockpiled the last few years.  I drew a link between that surplus and the baffling run on, and subsequent shortages of, toilet paper.

The reader can take it from there (depending on my comedic skills), but it offers a good lesson on the practice known as price “gouging.” 

After Governor Greg Abbott “issued a statewide disaster declaration” Friday, Attorney General Ken Paxton reminded the public that it is against Texas law for “any person or business selling goods” to “unreasonably raise the cost of necessary supplies.”  Similar laws exist in two-thirds of the other states.

In economic parlance, such laws are examples of price controls, these in particular being the ceiling variety.  (The minimum wage is a classic illustration of the opposite, a price floor.)

Prices are one of the most organic conveyors of information: is there a surplus of raw materials pushing prices down?  Is a tight labor market driving up the cost of that input?  Is transporting the final product to market easy and inexpensive?  Is demand outstripping supply, thereby pushing up the final price to the consumer? 

All that information is represented in the sticker price that we consumers see.

“We’re all demanders,” I tell my students.  “We recoil when the price of a good goes up, but it presents an opportunity for enterprising vendors.”  They rush to market with more supply, which means the final price to consumers has nowhere to go but down.

That’s why I use a variation of the following question on every test I give: when the price of shrimp goes up on the menu at your favorite seafood restaurant, how do fishermen (suppliers) respond?

When government steps in to “do something!”, that organic signal gets skewed.  Case in point last week, when we also saw shelves stripped of disinfectant wipes. 

It’s not as if we’ve been bereft of real-life examples in recent years, of what happens as a result of such price controls.  Just look at Venezuela.  Same thing.

For a fleeting moment, I did wonder if rationing by grocery stores might be an OK alternative.  Privately enforcing quotas would at least be preferable to mandated price ceilings. 

Then it occurred to me that even people who have lost their marbles are probably clever enough to send their kids into the store for more of the same item, effectively circumventing the store’s efforts.

Businesses don’t remain going-concerns by being stupid.  Their survival depends upon having products on the shelf.  The most successful ones can foresee the likely results of current events.  Prices could be raised incrementally, smoothing out the process. 

Instead, we nearly come to blows while in line at the gas station when a hurricane is taking out energy production in the Gulf of Mexico as it barrels toward landfall.  We see a man being upbraided for selling bottles of water out of the back of his truck when the alternative is zilch.

There’s no getting around the real market-based price.  Demand, especially the overwhelming kind, will always be met by supply.

All this is why I put “gouging” in quotes: it’s a politically expedient, emotionally-driven word used to demonize people or businesses who serve a valuable purpose.  In this case, it’s putting a price on a general inadequacy of preparedness and overreaction.  It’s the market’s way of making those habits and traits expensive.

Those who really end up getting the short end of the stick are the ones who have to spend more of their scarce time fighting the crowds, standing in line when all they’re buying is a few routine items.  Worse off are those of lesser means who rely on public transportation to transport groceries home, or who we see walking sidewalks doing so.

This is a time when our leaders have an opportunity to lead on principle, educate the public in some basic supply and demand, with emphasis on the former.

Alas, they fall into politician mode, if only to guard against power-hungry challengers who would seize on an emergency and demagogue the issue (think Dana Carvey’s George H.W. Bush: “SCARY!  SCARY!”) in an effort to wrest control over our lives.  Incidentally, it’s reflective of the herd mentality that has led to empty toilet paper shelves, which reminds me ...
​
I need to go check if any competitors have emerged in the market for wine bottle corks.  I might have to cut my price to stay competitive. 
===
Christopher E. Baecker manages fixed assets at Pioneer Energy Services, teaches economics at Northwest Vista College, is a board member of the Institute of Objective Policy Assessment, and is a member of the San Antonio Business & Economics Society.  He can be reached via email or Facebook

​Happy birthday, heavy metal!
This month fifty years ago, Black Sabbath released their eponymous debut album, the moment widely regarded as the day Geezer Butler, Tony Iommi, Ozzy Osbourne and Bill Ward created not only a music genre, but a lifestyle.   
I’m not offering a new history.  Ian Christie, Jon Wiederhorn & Katherine Turman and Sam Dunn have thoroughly covered that ground, not to mention more focused works by the likes of Joel McIver, Mick Wall, and many of the musicians themselves.  
I’m just regular dude from a normal upbringing who became enthralled by the power, aggression and seriousness of metal.  In its honor, I offer up a top ten list. 
#10 – Chevelle:
I may have been easy to please when I discovered Chevelle’s great “Wonder What’s Next (WWN).”  Metal was only starting to emerge from the ashes of the 1990s, while Lamb of God, Slipknot et al were in the early stages of their respective ascents.
Fast forward a dozen years.  Metal was back, and Chevelle had faded from my sights a bit with a few middling albums.  Then they released “La Gorgola.”
I’m still blown away by the endless stream of great songs on that album.  They followed that up “The North Corridor,” which is every bit as good as WWN. 
No other band has three nearly-flawless records in my personal collection.  That guarantees them a spot here.
#9 – Hatebreed:
Most bands on this list easily clear a minimum criterion of qualities: thundering drums, crunching guitars, precise solos, thick bass, and raging vocals.  What sets Hatebreed apart is that, couched within those sounds are inspirational lyrics, positive vibes with which they try to pump up the listener.
Metalheads don’t get a lot of credit for our intellect, but watch any concert (clip) and tell me that fans mouthing these words isn’t a net-good:
“You’re just sliding painfully back/If you’re not striving forward.
“Some think they know where your devotion ends/Let them swallow their words.
“Make your stand/Burn the bridge/Burn the bridge to the place where your fear lives.
“Fists up/Head high/We own the ****ing world tonight/One flame can light a million.”
#8 – Exodus:
The one good thing about Slayer’s recent retirement is that Gary Holt can return full-time to his gig as guitarist/songwriter of Exodus.
As crushing as their music is, their lyrics are fiercely incisive, channeling the frustration that stems from the worst that goes on around us. 
From the destruction wrought by the Catholic Church abuse scandal in “Altered Boy,” to the karma visited upon domestic abusers in “Sealed with a Fist,” to the self-explanatory “Burn, Hollywood, Burn.”
While such outrage depicted in movies can be cause for reflection, listening to it elicits a cathartic purge of anger.
A couple years ago, Anthrax’s Scott Ian made clear that it’s just as easy to write angry lyrics now as it was when he was younger.  Few do that better than Exodus.
#7 – Testament:
Testament was there at the beginning (along with Exodus) of what would become the Bay Area thrash scene.  They proved their mettle however, when the music industry left the genre for dead.
After dialing back the aggression somewhat on 1992’s “The Ritual,” they abruptly banged a U-turn and went heavier than ever, incorporating vocals more commonly found in death metal, most notably on 1997’s “Demonic.”  Only Pantera rivaled this trajectory.
The stubborn perseverance of one of the best vocalists in the business, Chuck Billy, and rhythm guitarist/songwriter Eric Peterson has set them up for a diverse, successful third stage of their career.
#6 – Black Sabbath:
There’s always been debate about the origins of the moniker “heavy metal.”  But when so many metalheads coalesce around Black Sabbath as the first purveyors of the sound, it’s hard not to zero in on the metal press machine that claimed the tips of Tony Iommi’s middle fingers on his right hand. 
After outfitting the new tips with plastic thimbles, he had to down-tune his guitar to “ease the tension” on them.
Voila!
I believe it was late Pantera/Hellyeah drummer Vinnie Paul who once said that every riff we hear was played first by Sabbath.  It’s where it all came from after all, and it’s why they’re as likely to pop up in my shuffle as any other act. 
Black Sabbath transcends time.
#5 – Alice in Chains (AiC):
I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who thought I’d heard the last of AiC when Layne Staley died. 
His pipes were as prominent a part of their sound as any other singer, if not moreso.  The growing vocal contribution guitarist/songwriter Jerry Cantrell made when he was alive however, made the rebirth possible.
It allowed William DuVall to ease into the “co-lead” vocalist role.  He has turned out to be the perfect fit for this incarnation of AiC.  When you hear them, you know it’s Alice in Chains. 
The music feels like a natural progression, while the similarity in vocal harmonization between AiC 1.0 and AiC 2.0 is striking. 
I am arguably a bigger fan now than I was before. 
#4 – Anthrax:
Anthrax injected fun into metal, employing a goofy-looking mascot, wearing jams shorts, and pioneering the fusion of rap and metal. 
Rhythm guitarist Scott Ian’s lyrics also made this teenager think, with the pro-Native American “Indians,” lamenting the plight of the homeless in “Who Cares Wins,” and ripping racists in “Keep It in the Family.” 
These are interspersed amongst songs based on comics and Stephen King works, all delivered by one of music’s truest singers, Joey Belladonna.  He propels them skyward.
Releasing quality stuff in the 1990s with former and current Armored Saint frontman John Bush, and producing their best work a few years ago (2016’s “For All Kings”) made their place here a no-brainer. 
#3 – Iron Maiden:
Despite Geraldo Rivera’s warnings that they would turn me into a devil worshipper, most of what I heard from Maiden was storytelling about history, mythology, dreams, classic fiction, etc., brought forth with an unrivaled quality and style. 
Bruce Dickinson’s singing makes them soar, the dueling solos of Dave Murray and Adrian Smith (and later Janick Gers) have no peer, and the genius of bassist Steve Harris is undeniable. 
And they still bring it live, whether stopping in town to promote a new record, or passing through to play all classics, bringing with them metal’s most famous mascot Eddie every time.
If you’ve made it this far in your music experience without adequate exposure to Iron Maiden, you have homework to do.
#2 – Slayer:
“We’re making a Slayer record here, and if you can get it on the radio, great. And if you can’t, **ck it.” 
So responded late guitarist/songwriter Jeff Hanneman when a record label executive asked them to “mainstream” their sound for just one song on 1994’s “Divine Intervention (DI).” 
Slayer triggered the thin-skinned by writing about the dark side of life, people’s worst impulses, society’s hypocrisies, imagining the bad guy’s point of view, and they delivered it in a way that sounded “like the world’s going to end,” as guitarist/songwriter Kerry King once said.
When DI proved Hanneman’s sentiment, the legend started taking shape, and it only grew for the next quarter century until they walked off the stage for the last time.
#1 – Metallica:
Hearing Metallica’s perfect third album “Master of Puppets (MoP)” opened my eyes.  Devouring MoP’s immediate predecessors and successors unalterably changed the course of my music experience. 
After leading the Big 4 (Slayer, Anthrax and Megadeth) in establishing thrash as a prominent sub-genre, they injected a couple of its core elements into, and coated the basic structure of rock with a definitive metal sound.  The result was the so-called “black” album. 
Upon taking it to the masses, it became one of the most successful records of all time.
Some of their peers followed this lead.  Some did not.  Regardless, all have benefitted from the gateway drug it became to other sub-genres (including the rest of their own catalogue), and the influence it provided to future generations. 
Metal is the force it is today because of Metallica.
===

“Metal fans love it forever.  No one ever goes ‘yeah I was really big into Slayer one summer.’”  (Rob Zombie, 2004)
When I was a kid, I honestly never thought I’d be going to see these bands live today.  When I looked at my 67-year-old grandparents, I never imagined them playing drums like Maiden’s Nicko McBrain. 
Yet there he was last September, backing up a 61 year-old singer … who’d recently whipped cancer … of the throat!
It’s no wonder metal is as strong as ever.  The bands I grew up with are an inspiration.  Younger outfits like Judiciary and Power Trip see there’s a future in it.  Veterans like Slipknot and Lamb of God know they can keep chugging for a couple more decades.  And if we do right by them and buy their albums, our bond will strengthen. 
In the end, it’ll make Jim Breuer’s “wheelchair mosh pit hour”-in-nursing-homes bit look prophetic.

Happy birthday, heavy metal!
​
On February 13th fifty years ago, Black Sabbath released their eponymous debut album, the moment widely regarded as the day Geezer Butler, Tony Iommi, Ozzy Osbourne and Bill Ward created not only a genre of music, but a lifestyle.   
I’m not here to offer a new history.  Ian Christie, Jon Wiederhorn & Katherine Turman and anthropologist Sam Dunn have thoroughly covered that ground, not to mention more focused works by the likes of Joel McIver, Mick Wall, and many of the musicians themselves. 

I’m just regular dude from a normal upbringing who became enthralled by the power, aggression and seriousness of metal.  In its honor, I have compiled a list of my favorite bands. 

Honorable mentions:

- Death Angel, the most improved thrash metal band from the 1980s, they have released a few really good albums this century, most notably “The Dream Calls for Blood” in 2013;
- Korn, probably my favorite heavy band to rise to prominence in the 1990s.  Few acts combine so many unique sounds from each instrument;  
- Lamb of God, backed by great songwriting and drums, this is the most that growling vocals had ever appealed to me … until last year;
- Megadeth, founded and pushed forward by the man credited by some as the inventor of thrash guitar, Dave Mustaine;
- Obituary, the death metal band I’ve been looking for.  If I had discovered them earlier, they’d be in the top ten;
- Ozzy, the man who gave metal it’s personality.  “Bark at the Moon” was one of the first metal tunes I ever heard;
- Pantera, Texas metal at its finest;
- Ratt, my first favorite band.  I still listen to, and play some of their stuff today;
- Tool, a prime example of a band who does what they want, when they want, both live and on record.  “Aenima” was part of my regular rotation for years;

#10 – Chevelle:

Not many bands have near-flawless records to their credit.  I have a few: Megadeth’s “Rust in Piece,” Stone Temple Pilots’ “Core,” AC/DC’s “Back in Black,” Guns N Roses’ “Appetite for Destruction,” etc. 

Chevelle is the only band with three in my collection.

I first heard them the same time as most everyone else did, when “The Red” and “Send the Pain Below” hit the airwaves.  When I bought the album, “Wonder What’s Next (WWN),” I quickly found out those two didn’t even rank in its top half! 

It’s possible though, that I was easy to please at the time. 

The hard rock and metal that I grew up with was only starting to emerge from the ashes of the 1990s.  Lamb of God and Slipknot et al were in the early stages of their respective ascents, and I was relegated to terrestrial radio, where so-called nu-metal was prominent (not to diminish the likes of System of a Down or Godsmack).

Fast-forward a dozen years. 

I have SiriusXM’s Liquid Metal and Ozzy’s Boneyard’s “hard and heavy classics”, and metal is back in full swing.  Chevelle had faded from my sights, having put out a couple of middling albums.  Then they released “La Gorgola” in 2014.

To this day I’m blown away by the endless stream of great songs on that album.  They never stop and then all of a sudden, I’m at the end of the record.  They followed that up a couple years later with “The North Corridor,” which is every bit as good as WWN. 

There’s undeniably an emotional angle here for me, as LG was released when I was going through the early stages of my divorce.  That album kept me company during the time I was not under the same roof as my daughters.  One of their shows would also prove to be the first concert my future wife and I attended.

Nevertheless, while that turbulent time has given way to the sublime, Chevelle’s music has not relinquished a regular spot in my rotation. 

# 9 – Hatebreed:

It wasn’t until 1991 that cable, MTV and the Headbangers Ball reached my parents’ house out in the country, and with it, greater access to the music that was taking over my CD collection.  Then the industry changed, and by the time I left home for Dallas, most all I heard on the radio was grunge (much of which was good) and alternative.

Metal had gone back underground.  It would be another fifteen years before I regained a steady supply. 

Somehow during that time, I discovered Hatebreed and their 2002 album “Perseverance.”

Most bands on this list easily clear a minimum criterion of qualities: thundering drums, crunching guitars, wailing but precise solos, the thick bass holding it all together, and raging vocals.  What sets Hatebreed apart is that, couched within those sounds are inspirational lyrics, encouragement and positive vibes with which they try to pump up the listener.

 “I was born, to bleed, fighting to succeed/Built to endure what this world throws at me”
“Start from nothing, stop at nothing/NO SLEEP/NO REST/Must do what it takes to be the best”
“No limit to what can be achieved/MIND OVER ALL/Power that has yet to be seen/MIND OVER ALL”

Metalheads don’t get a lot of credit for their intellect, what with the headbanging, the moshing and whatnot, but watch a concert (clip) and tell me that fans mouthing the following isn’t a net-good:

“You’re just sliding painfully back/If you’re not striving forward.
“Some think they know where your devotion ends/Let them swallow their words.
“Make your stand/Burn the bridge/Burn the bridge to the place where your fear lives.
“Fists up/Head high/We own the ****ing world tonight/One flame can light a million.”

#8 – Exodus:

The one good thing about Slayer’s recent retirement is that Gary Holt can return to his main gig as guitarist and songwriter of Exodus.

I knew of them when I was a kid, primarily from seeing “Toxic Waltz” on MTV’s Headbangers Ball.  I didn’t thoroughly check them out however, until Holt joined Slayer to fill in for the ailing Jeff Hanneman. 

Boy was I missing out! 

For the first time, Megadeth’s Dave Mustaine had serious competition for my favorite guitarist in the form of Holt’s chainsaw-sounding 6-string.  Awesome as their music is, their lyrics stand out just as much.

Few other acts so successfully channel the anger that stems from what goes on around us.  From the destruction wrought by the Catholic Church abuse scandal in “Altered Boy,” to the karma visited upon perpetrators of domestic abuse in “Sealed with a Fist,” to the self-explanatory “Burn, Hollywood, Burn.”

Their songs exemplify the frustration many of us feel from a world that has left many “desensitized” and “rendered … ****ing numb.”  They resolve these feelings by volunteering “for this disease, I am the cure, the punishment will be swift and sure” and imploring everyone to “rise up and revolt, reduce the halls of power to ruin and to ash.”  

While such vigilantism and anarchy expressed on the big screen can be cause for how-did-we-get-here reflection, listening to it elicits a cathartic release for those paying attention WHILE the mess is in progress.

A couple years ago, during a Q&A at a New York City bookstore, Anthrax’s Scott Ian made clear that it’s just as easy to write angry lyrics now as it was when he was younger, especially if you have children.  Nobody does that better than Exodus.

#7 – Testament:

My sister didn’t care for much of what I started listening to after I first heard Metallica, expect when it came to Testament. 

Testament was there at the beginning, along with Exodus, planting the seeds to what would become the Bay Area thrash scene.  Their videos, along with those of Megadeth, were some of the earliest I remember seeing whenever I could get over to a friend or relatives who had cable. 

“Over the Wall,” from their first record, 1987’s “The Legacy,” was fascinating.  Based on the controversy I’d been hearing, it felt a bit risky, like I could get in trouble for watching (way to go, PMRC!).

Then they put out their catchy third album “Practice What You Preach” in 1989, which included a song that may shed light on why they appealed to my sister.  It was called “The Ballad,” and it sounded like the name implies.

As good as they were/are when they go heavy and/or fast, they are unmatched in metal when it comes to slowing things way down.  Every time they do, it’s worth these ears’ attention without even mildly rolling these eyes.

When the industry turned on the genre in the early 1990s though, is when they really proved their mettle (pardon the pun). 

While some bands closed up shop altogether, others tinkered with their sound.  After experimenting with the latter, Testament forcefully banged a U-turn going heavier than ever, incorporating vocals more commonly found in death metal, most notably on 1997’s “Demonic.”  Only Pantera rivaled this trajectory.

That set them up for a diverse third stage of their career, when they welcomed lead guitarist Alex Skolnick back into the fold, he being just one of the exceptional players to record with them.

Having laid down tracks with both Slayer drummers Dave Lombardo and Paul Bostaph, as well as original Lamb of God stickman Chris Adler, the “Atomic Clock” Gene Hoglan is poised to be featured on his fourth Testament album (last three consecutive) in April.  Pairing up a second time with Hoglan as the rhythm section is highly regarded bassist Steve DiGiorgio.    

They have since released my favorite Testament record, 2012’s “Dark Roots of the Earth,” on which is one of the best metal tunes of this century, “True American Hate.”

The determination of one of the best vocalists in the business, Chuck Billy, and rhythm guitarist and chief songwriter Eric Peterson, makes it an easy decision for such extraordinary musicians to return to a top-notch enterprise and do great things.

#6 – Black Sabbath:

Mum knows best.

Before committing himself to music full-time to his new band The Birds & The Bees, guitarist Tony Iommi had one more day at his welding job.  Understandably anxious to make the transition, he decided to skip the afternoon shift.  His mom however, instructed him to “finish the job properly.”

While working a metal press machine with which he was unfamiliar, he accidentally chopped off the tips of his middle fingers on his right hand.  After the shock subsided, he outfitted the new tips with plastic thimbles, and downtuned his guitar to “ease the tension” on them.

And with that, a new musical genre was born.

I knew Ozzy Osbourne and Ronnie James Dio better than I knew Black Sabbath when I was teenager.  I became more aware of them when they reunited for Ozzfest performances, and morphed into Heaven & Hell with Dio. 

I’ve been in awe ever since I bought the complete Ozzy and Dio catalogues. 

When asked his favorite albums, for the sake of ease Anthrax’s Ian usually says “the first five Sabbath albums.”  It’s hard to dispute such an expert, but I have to go with #6, 1975’s “Sabotage,” with “The Writ” particularly hitting a chord with me.

It’s a testament to the quality that I put all their Ozzy/Dio stuff on shuffle just as sure as I do Slayer, Iron Maiden, Obituary, etc.  It fits right in with any other metal I listen to, which makes sense.  After all, I believe it was late Pantera/Hellyeah drummer Vinnie Paul who once said “every riff you hear now was played first by Black Sabbath.”

#5 – Alice in Chains (AiC):

Every so often I become mesmerized by music from my younger days, mostly the stuff I heard on the radio before I was able to flip the dial myself.  First, it was disco when left home for the big city.  Later on it was 1970s pop-rock (thanks for that “Boogie Nights” and “El Camino/Breaking Bad”).

More recently, since they released their last album, 2018’s “Rainier Fog (RF),” it has been Alice in Chains.

It’s unmistakable who’s playing when you hear that songwriting brought to life by Sean Kinney’s freewheeling drums and, especially, Layne Staley’s vocals.

While they forged their reputation with their first three albums, what set them apart was the 1994 acoustic EP “Jar of Flies.” 

Despite being largely stripped of an electric sound, it managed to have at least as much impact as any of their LPs.  It was a beautiful piece of work, even before adding Staley’s incomparable voice.

They went their separate ways musically as the decade wound down, recording only a couple songs for an AiC box-set.  Then, in 2002, Staley died of a drug overdose. 

I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who thought I’d heard the last of AiC.  Frontmen are the voice and face of a band.  Layne Staley was even more than that.  His pipes were as prominent a part of AiC as any other singer of any other band, if not moreso.

One imagines it took the sheer force of will of Sean Kinney and guitarist/songwriter Jerry Cantrell to attempt to resurrect the band given the massive void.  But that they did.  Incidentally enough, the foundation for a rebirth had been laid with the growing vocal contribution Cantrell made when Staley was alive.

It allowed William DuVall to ease into the “co-lead” vocalist role.  No one could ever fully replace Layne Staley, but DuVall is the perfect fit for this incarnation of AiC.  When you hear them now, you know it’s Alice in Chains. 

The music feels like a natural progression, including the DuVall-penned “So Far Under” off RF, while the similarity in vocal harmonization between AiC 1.0 and AiC 2.0 is nothing short of striking. 

2013’s “The Devil Put Dinosaurs Here” and RF have arguably made me a bigger AiC fan than I was before.  If they maintain this course, I’m liable to learn to play another album’s worth of Mike Starr and Mike Inez bass lines.

#4 – Anthrax:

One of my earliest memories of my first first cousin was bouncing her on my knees while Anthrax played on the boombox.  Somewhere there’s a picture of it, which my aunt and uncle may have mercifully buried it: I had “Anthrax” trimmed into my leg hairs.

Of all the bands that fed my burgeoning infatuation with thrash metal, Anthrax was the most unique. 

They injected fun into the sub-genre.  Metal, for the most part, is a serious endeavor, and it’s part of the reason I was drawn to it.  But it’s also OK to have a goofy-looking mascot (the Not Man), wear jams shorts, and sport mullets (well … maybe not the mullets). 

Co-founder and rhythm guitarist Scott Ian’s lyrics also made this teenager think.

My first two Anthrax albums, 1987’s flawless “Among the Living,” and its follow-up the next year “State of Euphoria,” are replete with brain food: the pro-Native American “Indians,” the plea against ignoring the homeless in “Who Cares Wins,” the anti-Cold War arms race “One World” and ripping on televangelists in “Make Me Laugh.” 

These are interspersed amongst songs based on comics and Stephen King works, all delivered by one of music’s truest singers, Joey Belladonna. 

Most of his peers, including favorites of mine like Mark Osegueda of Death Angel, are what I call ragers.  But as he has proven, particularly in his second stint with the band (sandwiched around the very good John Bush-era, former and current Armored Saint frontman), Joey makes them who they are.  He propels them skyward.

Throw in a lead-guitar-playing, songwriting drummer Charlie Benante, and a second impeccable record late in their career (2016’s “For All Kings”), and their spot high on my list was a no-brainer.

#3 – Iron Maiden:

By the time a buddy handed 1988’s “Seventh Son of a Seventh Son (SSoaSS)” to me, I’d heard enough to claim “Wasted Years,” from its 1986 predecessor “Somewhere in Time,” as my favorite Maiden jam. 

Despite Geraldo Rivera’s warnings that they were one of those bands that would turn me into a devil worshipper, I heard less than a handful of such references.  What I heard of lot of was storytelling about history, mythology, war, classic fiction, etc.  And it was brought forth with an unrivaled quality and style that few, if any, have matched. 

Bruce Dickinson’s singing makes them soar just like the engines on Ed Force One, on which he pilots them from show to show.  The dueling solos of Dave Murray and Adrian Smith (and Janick Gers in later years) have no peer. 

The genius of Iron Maiden however, starts with Steve Harris, widely regarded as one of the very best bassists in metal.  If you ever hear anyone in Maiden mimicked, it’s him … by guitarists.  Those galloping bass lines were a notable part of early thrash. 

And they still bring it live, stopping in town seemingly every other year, whether promoting a new album or coming up with some pretext to play all classics, bringing with them metal’s most famous mascot Eddie regardless.

No one puts on a show like Maiden!

When I was first making my way to metal, I asked some kids who were a couple steps ahead of me, if they liked much of the less-aggressive stuff, the not-as-fast but showier stuff.  “Just Iron Maiden” was the response I got. 

If you’ve made it this far in your metal, or rock, or just music experience without adequate exposure to Iron Maiden, you have studying to do.

#2 – Slayer:

“We’re making a Slayer record here, and if you can get it on the radio, great. And if you can’t, **ck it.” 

So responded late Slayer guitarist/songwriter Jeff Hanneman when a record label executive asked them to “mainstream” their sound for just one song for 1994’s “Divine Intervention (DI).” 

I first listened to them when a teammate handed to me their fourth album, “South of Heaven,” on the way back from a football game in high school.

The opening riff was eerie, the album was fast at times, the lyrics left little to the imagination, and one song seemed to bleed into another (granted, I might have been nodding off).  It was more intense than Metallica and Anthrax.

Though guitarist and songwriter Kerry King once said he believes that the sound that lasted until their recent retirement was cemented with their next effort, 1990’s “Seasons in the Abyss,” my thoughts go back to DI.

I have never been one to fault their peers for changing their respective sounds, trying something new, indulging other creative fancies in the early 1990s.  Some of those records were good for what they were, and I still listen to them today.

I remember however, a curious apprehension coming over me when I picked up DI … and then I heard the lead single, “Dittohead.”  Nothing had changed.  The speed was still there, as were the controversial topics filtered through typically graphic lyrics. 

DI was arguably when the legend started taking shape.

“(W)e’re the thrash metal AC/DC.  I like (them) because they sound like what I like about them.  That’s why people like us,” said King once.

They were one of the few bands that kept up the aggression through the 1990s, and were there to welcome back reunited and resuscitated bands, not to mention guide new acts, as the new century began.

With original “godfather of double bass” Dave Lombardo back behind the kit, they arguably peeked between playing their seminal classic “Reign in Blood” live in its entirety while being doused by a faux-bloody rain-storm, and the release of their 2009 record “World Painted Blood (WPB),” their best album since DI.

Then the foundation started cracking.

Soon after WPB was released, years of unrelenting headbanging caught up with bassist/vocalist Tom Araya, forcing him into neck surgery that would bring that habit to a screeching halt. 

After taking part in a triumphant series of “Big 4” shows with Metallica, Megadeth and Anthrax in 2010, Hanneman was felled by a flesh-eating disease contracted from a spider bite.  Lombardo was fired in early 2013 after a financial dispute with the band, and a few months later, Hanneman’s affinity for beer manifested itself in the cirrhosis that claimed his life.

They would carry on for a few more years with Exodus guitarist Gary Holt playing opposite King, but their days were numbered. 

“Leave it all on the road living on the stage.
“This is my life where I kill it everyday.
“So take your shot, bottom's up, this is no lie.
“I'll be beating this guitar 'til the day I die.”

That was Slayer, from the day they formed in 1981, to the time they walked off the stage for good. 

They triggered the thin-skinned because they wrote about the dark side of life, people’s worst impulses, society’s hypocrisies, imagining the bad guy’s point of view, and they brought it forth in a way that sounded “like the world’s going to end.” 

They never apologized, and they never had to.

#1 – Metallica:

“If you came here to see spandex, eye makeup, and the words ‘Ooh baby’ in every **ckin’ song, this ain’t the **ckin’ band.”  (frontman James Hetfield is reported to have said at Castle Donington Monsters of Rock in 1985)

After Quiet Riot’s “Bang Your Head (Metal Health)” grabbed me by the throat in 1983, I gravitated to Ratt and Motley Crue.  Then in 1986 or 1987, a friend said “listen to this.” 

It started with an acoustic guitar, then another one, and a couple more before BAM!  “Battery,” the lead tune on Metallica’s perfect third album, 1986’s “Master of Puppets,” started a galloping riff that unalterably changed the course of my music experience. 

They were different in almost every way from the glitzy acts, and if you wanted to see them, you had to go to a concert, as they didn’t make a music video until “One,” off 1988’s “… And Justice for All.”

After leading the Big 4 (Slayer, Anthrax and Megadeth) in establishing thrash as a prominent sub-genre, they injected a couple of its core elements into, and coated the basic structure of rock with a definitive metal sound.  The result was the so-called “black” album. 

Upon taking it to the masses, it became one of the most successful records of all time.

Though few could dispute Anthrax’s Scott Ian’s declaration that that album is “metal; I will fight you!” the same couldn’t be said for the “Load” albums of the mid-1990s. 

Even so, they had good stuff: from the groovy (“2X4”), to the upbeat (“Wasting My Hate”), to the mid-tempo (“Devil’s Dance”), to a country-ish (“Mama Said”).  Taken for what they were/are, if you love music, you liked those albums. 

The naysayers had barely tossed out those albums before the band returned to where their bread will always be buttered, this time in the form of a covers album, 1998’s “Garage Inc.”  More than half of the record was comprised of totally metal takes on their original inspirations: Black Sabbath, Mercyful Fate, Misfits, and the oft-honored Diamond Head.

Moreover, a perusal of their set lists this century shows they play only one, maybe two selections from the “Load” albums at any given concert.  Though that is certainly attributable to the time they give to their first five albums, it’s also due to the fact that they have ramped back up the aggression and speed on their last two offerings, 2008’s “Death Magnetic” and 2015’s “Hardwired … to Self-Destruct,” the latter of which nevertheless bears the characteristic of a good amalgamation of their entire career.

History will show that Metallica, not Nirvana, led the charge in saving the music world from drowning in a tsunami of blush, hairspray and colorful stretchy pants.  Some of their peers followed their lead of experimentation.  Some did not. 

Regardless, all have benefitted from the gateway drug it became to other sub-genres (including the rest of their own catalogue), and the influence it provided to future generations.  Metal is the force it is today because of Metallica.

===

“Metal fans love it forever.  No one ever goes ‘yeah I was really big into Slayer one summer.’”  (Rob Zombie, 2004)

I honestly never thought, when I first started listening to some of these bands, that I’d still be going to see them live today.  When I looked at my 67-year-old grandparents as a kid, one thing I certainly did not imagine was them playing drums like Maiden’s Nicko McBrain. 

Yet there he was, here in San Antonio last September, backing up a 61 year-old singer … who’d recently whipped cancer … of the throat!

It’s no wonder metal is as strong as ever.  The pioneers are an inspiration.  Even Ozzy is still recording and touring!  They’re why newer acts like Judiciary and Power Trip (from Texas, but nevermind) are on the ascent.  They’re why Slipknot and Lamb of God probably have another couple of decades in the tank.    

We headbangers, young and old, will keep going to see these bands.  And if we do right by them and buy their albums, the bond with them will strengthen. 
​
In the end, it will make Jim Breuer’s “wheelchair mosh pit hour” in nursing homes bit look prescient.

My daughters have 1st World problems.  Readers with children are probably familiar with such phenomena: the internet goes out, a smartphone goes haywire, etc.  Mine aren’t big fans of what dad makes for dinner.

“Can we please have something other than sausage, ham steak, chicken, pork tenderloin, fish, meatballs, etc.?”  The struggle is real, nevermind that they eat the same whole-grain cereal for breakfast every day.

Recently, my second oldest (15) soured on packing her lunch because the bread on her sandwich gets soggy.  The thing is, I’m not willing to pay for a school lunch when I provide them with healthier choices at home. 

Wait until she hears what Senator/presidential candidate Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) and Representative Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.) have cooked up: “Dad, it’s free now.”

Omar and Sanders want to “provide” three squares a day to all U.S. schoolchildren, regardless of household income.  It gets more difficult by the day to know which criticisms apply to such dreadful ideas.

Pro-government types have long since cast aside respect for the constitution.  Witness the steady erosion of the separation of powers, the administrative state’s freewheeling rulemaking, and the disregard for the 10th amendment, of which the “Universal School Meals Program Act” is merely the latest example.

The Founders included that amendment because the vast majority of concerns and problems we face are best addressed by people closer to the issue.

Also, both major political parties treat the federal treasury like a slush fund.  Sometimes what gets funded depends upon who is in power; sometimes it does not.  Regardless, the gravy train keeps chugging.

Perhaps most worrisome in this instance is the intrusion into parental responsibilities.

When the predictable groans greet my dinner announcement, my daughters are usually free to make something for themselves.  Occasionally they’ll coax my wife into preparing something more to their liking.  Chalk that up as a bonding opportunity.

That’s where their options should end. 

Grown adults (which you are, if you have a kid) do not need someone from three states away enabling politicians and bureaucrats in Washington D.C. to lure their children into a deceptive sense that they know best.    

Besides, there are two rules of thumb to follow when shopping for the healthiest foods: stick to those found around the edge of the grocery store (dairy, meat, produce, etc.); and, perhaps more importantly, eschew those with more than a couple (non-pronounceable) ingredients on the label.

Moreover, there is abundant literature for the particularly curious.  For instance, reading “The South Beach Diet” is where I learned the difference between whole, refined and enriched grains, among other things. 

Parents simply have to take the initiative. 

Unfortunately, for various reasons, that’s too often not the case.  Perhaps the most fascinating is the reluctance to tell our kids “no.” 

It cannot be underestimated the joy derived from deploying that word when necessary.  The whines of protest and descents into childishness are so amusing that paying for comedic entertainment becomes less urgent.

Then there’s just flat out neglect.  Why do some folks choose parenthood as a time to abdicate their sense of duty, especially when kids are our best opportunity to improve society?

Some folks will point to the “12% of … households (facing) food insecurity,” and the 20% rate of obesity in “school-age kids” as reason enough for the feds to intervene.    

Why though, should parents (and taxpayers in general) who are taking care of their business be forced to compensate for those who are not? 

It’s heartbreaking to know how obese children have been put behind the 8-ball, from heightened susceptibility to “diabetes and heart attacks,” to “low self-esteem and depression,” according to the Mayo Clinic.    

Since it is rarely a genetic or hormonal issue, that leaves one culprit; lifestyle. 

Have we totally lost our marbles?  These dietary-induced illnesses are tantamount to child neglect.  Why would we paper over this with some government money and control?  Given its poor track record over the years, it would likely result in little else than more inflation of health care expenditures.

Furthermore, couple this plan with Senator/presidential candidate Kamala Harris’ idea to extend the school day, and Senator/presidential candidate Elizabeth Warren’s universal pre-k proposal, and proponents’ motivations start to take on an Orwellian hue.

No, thank you.

I’m the primary shopper in our house.  I’ve enjoyed getting to choose my own food ever since I left the nest.  Though I prefer to go alone, I took my two oldest with me recently to see if we could compromise on what they want and what’s good for them.

It was admittedly more stressful than I’m used to, but it was worth it so they could see what I take into consideration. 
And, it was better than bringing Uncle Sam along.
​
Instead of inviting himself to dictate our grocery list, and charging it to our neighbor, we’d be better off if he left that responsibility where it belongs.

There has been growing talk recently about consolidating school districts here in the Alamo City, much of it driven by “governance issues,” financial problems, “corruption,” etc.  As a general rule, going in that direction is not ideal.  Control moves further away from the people, and leaves those in power less accountable.

Nevertheless, my sentiments have drifted toward the pro-side, but not in the way one might suspect. 

We should have one Greater San Antonio zone of public education where children can attend whichever autonomously-owned and operated school their parents believe is best for them.  They would pay for it with a proportionate amount of tax revenue earmarked for that purpose.

As with all publicly-funded operations, the ideal way to do this would be with a zone-wide sales tax.  It is the most efficient form of taxation, and unlike targeting income, it does not penalize work, savings or investment (it actually encourages the latter two), the very actions that power our prosperity.

Alas, odious though property taxes are, amending the Texas constitution may be required to eliminate that option lest we be subject to both. 

Once the fog of any U.S. constitutional misinterpretation and/or property-wealth elitism has cleared, the logic of the choice option becomes apparent.

First, there is no reasonable explanation for why this decision should rest anywhere but in the hands of children’s legal guardians.  When discerning parents spend their scarce time and resources focusing on what’s best for their families, the optimal result for society is more likely to follow. 

Some might respond that not all parents are so judicious.  Unfortunately, there’s truth to that.  We see examples of it too often. 

However, putting choice where it belongs would, to one degree or another, compel less engaged parents to get more involved.  Regardless, should our education system, or anything else for that matter, be geared around those who go through life in such an inattentive manner?

Once the “three Rs (reading, writing and arithmetic)” are accounted for, schools would be free to specialize, and set their own curriculum.  Parents could then go shopping.

A former professor of mine at UT-San Antonio, Dr. John Merrifield, has made a living on this topic, wading into these waters yet again with his forthcoming book “School System Reform: Why and How is a Price-less Tale.”  The title alludes to a key ingredient that’s been missing in grammar school: price signals.

My favorite example to use in class to illustrate the power of price signals is flat-screen televisions.  When I first bought a 40” or 42” fifteen or so years ago, I shelled out a few thousand dollars.  Now, you can get one for few hundred bucks, or less!

To correct this problem in K-12, schools would be free to set their own tuition.  Invariably, this is where 5-second thinkers throw their arms up in a huff.  But go back to the T.V. example.

If one school sets its tuition high, it would certainly need to deliver the goods.  If it didn’t, it would not stay in business long.  If it did succeed, not only would it be providing a superior service, it would attract competition for the new standard it has set, and when supply increases, price has nowhere to go but down.

This all assumes of course a light regulatory touch.

If this is good enough when it comes to watching a ballgame or T.V. drama in HD, in multiple rooms, why isn’t it good enough for our kids’ education?

Another possible positive outcome came to mind recently thanks to a group of parents promoting an organization called RootEd. 

It encourages parents to get to know their schools, something with which I wholeheartedly agree, having volunteered a number of times for Watch D.O.G.S.: dads patrolling hallways, spending time with their child/children’s class, helping out in P.E., etc.  It was always a delightful, often inspiring experience.  Having lunch with three different sets of friends never ceased to amuse me (my four daughters range in age from 16-10). 

I believe however, that the authors of that piece, and perhaps others, use the words “neighborhood” and “community“ too synonymously.

“Neighborhood” is self-explanatory.  Your neighbor lives right next door, maybe even a couple doors down.  “Community” is somewhat broader, perhaps a group of neighborhoods.  Possibly even a city. 

Many of us are “rooted” in our respective neighborhoods.  We keep an eye out for each other.  Our children play together at the same playgrounds and parks.  We set up homeowners associations to address common concerns.   

How well though, do we know our fellow city dwellers from across town?

To be sure, many of us work with folks who fit that criteria.  If you’re fortunate, those relations are good.  I see staff commiserate regularly with executives about fantasy football, for instance.  That’s important because we all have our eye on the same ball; survival/success in our respective industry.

Imagine however, parents from a city’s economically distressed neighborhoods, rubbing elbows with their counterparts from more affluent areas because of a common choice they made for their children.  Maybe the former will come to be less likely to view the latter as unbothered by real-life stresses and concerns, while the latter might see that “shiftless” or “irresponsible” stereotypes don’t apply to all people in lower tax brackets.

Our K-12 segregation almost makes one wonder if those in power prefer it that way in order to maintain their electoral bases.  By knocking down these artificial walls that serve to fuel class warfare, our cities/counties could very well be woven more tightly together.

It would also help teachers, some of whom have good, innovative ideas for how to educate and/or run schools.  They need only be free to do so, rather than constrained by competing with entrenched institutions that have built-in claims on the funds.

And those are the only folks who wouldn’t benefit, so dependent on the status quo that they think they know better than us.  Do they?
​
That’s where parental choice comes in.

​The year before she hit it big in the action flick “Speed,” Sandra Bullock played a police officer in the Sylvester Stallone/Wesley Snipes futuristic crime movie “Demolition Man.”  Criminal Snipes and policeman Stallone are cryogenically imprisoned in 1996 after Stallone’s allegedly rogue efforts to catch Snipes result in civilian fatalities.  Fast forward almost forty years to the utopian San Angeles, when Stallone is thawed to catch a reanimated Snipes after he escapes from a parole hearing. 
 
In one scene, Snipes attempts to construct a gun as lightly-armed police officers close in to apprehend him.  He proceeds to wipe out the entire squad.  “We’re not trained to handle this kind of violence!” one officer exclaims.
 
This comes to mind every time the inevitable gun-control debate rages after a mass shooting.  Who wouldn’t want a society so peaceful and free of violence that not even law enforcement officers carry lethal weapons?  Unfortunately, that’s not the society we live in, but we’re closer to it than we’re led to believe.
 
According to the Pew Research Center, violent crime has “fallen sharply,” between 49% and 74% over the last generation.  Moreover, after cresting in the 1970s and 1980s, the murder rate has halved to around 5 people per 100,000 citizens.  Regrettably, this type of news doesn’t get ratings and is incompatible with opportunistic political narratives.
 
It also provides inadequate fodder for us to blow off steam. 
 
Instead, one tribe exploits the tragedy to insult the spirituality of the other by ripping the supposed fecklessness of “thoughts & prayers,” while the other tribe retorts with assertions of naiveté.  We’re both guilty of this.  Less hotheaded dialogue is more likely to build a consensus behind possible enhancements to our security.
 
Seventeen states and the District of Columbia allow judges, via so-called “red-flag” laws, to order authorities to confiscate firearms from individuals deemed to be a threat to the safety of family and/or law enforcement.  The problem is that this runs afoul of the “due process” clause of the U.S. Constitution. 
 
Tighten that up by allowing the gun owner to defend herself before permitting the seizure of her property, along with enacting “criminal penalties for anyone bringing false accusations,” as the Wall Street Journal suggested recently, and perhaps more support could be garnered for this safeguard.
 
We could discuss other proposals, but the way we all tend to talk to each other concerns us nearly as much.  This is something we feel should be addressed, starting with words like that, “should.”
 
We’ve talked to our daughters before (six between us) about “needs,” “wants,” etc.: “You don’t need the latest smartphone; you want the latest smartphone.”  Some folks seem peculiarly comfortable instructing other adults in similar fashion: “No one should own a semi-automatic rifle.  Why do you need one?” 
 
We’re entitled to our respective opinions, and to live life by our own personal set of values.  When did we become so presumptuous though, as to impose them on others? 
 
By the same token, perhaps calling into question people’s ability to control their emotions after such slaughters is out of bounds as well.  Who isn’t saddened when the news breaks?  The most heinous amongst these unspeakable acts, when the victims are children, put every loving parent on edge when their phone flashes a subsequent news alert. 
 
Similarly, there’s a disregard for those who connect the dots between something like the precipitous slide in Venezuelan society, and the part of the second amendment that was intended as a check against an oppressive national government. 
 
The once-prosperous South American nation banned the private sale of guns in 2012 ostensibly to address “criminal violence.”  That didn’t work, serving only to leave the general populace “defenseless.” 
 
Incidentally, those who push for more “sensible gun control” tend to be the same ones who support politicos who favor greater taking of personal property and more restrictions on individual liberty.
 
Once triggered, the pro-gun crowd will respond with denunciations like “you’re weak,” “you’re a coward,” “you can’t protect your own family,” and the all-CAPS cycle goes back into full-swing.  When did we become so brazen as to discard decorum just because the text on the screen is coming from hundreds of miles away? 
 
We’ve been around this block too many times. 
 
After we’re done converting our passions into a withering fire of social media posts, we fall back on outsourcing our individual conclusions to ready-made demagogues eager to translate these sentiments into votes. 
 
These master panderers are willing to do so regardless if it means criminalizing some of the most law-abiding citizens, nevermind that the rifles currently in their crosshairs are used in many fewer homicides than handguns.  Moreover, it’s difficult to tell whether these so-called leaders are ignorant of the law, or if their motives exist on a slippery slope given how wide of a net they use to classify “semiautomatic.”
 
While these cyber-combatants and their (prospective) representatives are going at it, we’re sitting here wondering if Americans have simply become lazy about our personal safety. 
 
We know background checks, even when properly executed, are not terribly effective.  At our most logical core, we know gun-free zones are target-rich environments, and ever since we’ve been watching cops-and-robbers shows, we know, by definition, that criminals do not follow the law.  They’re going to get what they want, whether it’s banned weapons or materials to make a bomb.
 
We can’t even fully rely on the police.  The Supreme Court affirmed as much, 7-2, when they declared in Castle Rock v. Gonzales (2005) that the cops have no “constitutional duty to protect a person from harm.”  We are our own first line of defense. 
 
Yet, as the manufacture of firearms and applications for concealed permits have both risen in recent years, the percentage of ownership among American households has trended down for more than a generation. 
 
We’re not saying everyone should own a firearm.  They are clearly intimidating and dangerous objects.  Just like knives or chemicals, mishandling them can cause serious injury, and obviously death. 
 
It’s not a stretch though, to believe that there is room at the margins to add a few folks with an “if not me, then who?” attitude.  
 
All of us would be scared beyond measure to be in the middle of something so terrifying, but there are some of us who couldn’t live with ourselves if we didn’t attempt to thwart the attack, or run headlong toward the danger in order to save others.    
 
“I grab as many (kids) as possible because that’s what I was trained to do,” said Private First Class Glendon Oakley of his heroics during the recent shooting in El Paso.
 
There are no guarantees in life, particularly in the midst of such a chaotic situation.  However, if more citizens found “if not me, then who?” within themselves, it’s hard to argue we wouldn’t be safer.
 
While fear would naturally be our first instinct, take a minute right now to imagine what would be at stake.  What is the shooter threatening?  Lives are at risk, some of whom may be your family.  When someone is a menace to your child’s survival, what is your attitude toward that person? 
 
A little more than fifteen years after “Speed,” Sandra Bullock won an Oscar for portraying just such a parent.
 
No longer in the idyllic haven of 2032 San Angeles, where “anything that is not good for you is … illegal,” she was staring down a gang-banger in “The Blind Side,” on his turf, after he threatened her son, assuring him that she’s “always packin’.”  No doubt a little nervous and fearful during this confrontation, there was a noticeable tinge of anger in her tone. 
 
A similar mix could be what’s driving El Paso residents in droves to concealed-carry training, and why churches are beefing up security measures for parishioners.  Maybe we’d be better served turning our ire away from each other, and channeling this fear and anger toward utilizing this constitutional right we are fortunate to have.  

Like most kids, mine clamor for their own smartphone.  If they keep their grades up and help out around the house, they’re more likely to get one.

Once in hand, they’re prone to download game apps like Aquapark, Minecraft, etc.  Music and/or social media apps are probably the extent of any overlap they have with their old man.  Instead, mine is filled with news and reference apps, including the Declaration of Independence (DoI) and the U.S. Constitution.

The exceptional guideline embodied in our founding documents comes to mind when reading particular defenses of socialism, like those put forth by writer David Cay Johnston, and more locally by Peggy Rodriguez-Stover.   

They invariably point to public libraries, fire departments, social security, etc. as “socialist-based programs Americans have benefitted from” for years.  Yet, there’s always one glaring inaccuracy; many of them are local in nature.  Our Founding Fathers knew that whatever could be handled at the state and/or local level, should be.  Hence, the 10th amendment.   

Regardless, it’s disputable whether or not any of these functions are socialist in the first place. 

Merriam-Webster defines socialism as “government ownership and administration of the means of production and distribution of goods.”  At best, these ubiquitous examples are simply provisions of public goods.  At worst, they represent inefficient, inferior government alternatives to private sector offerings.

Even though folks like Mr. Johnston brand the police as socialist, law enforcement is one such public good: it’s available for all to use, but usage by one does not mean another can’t also use it.  This accessibility makes it nearly impossible for a private company to supply the consequential demand. 

“While serving as the senior advisor of all police activities in the eastern provinces of Afghanistan, I witnessed a complete lack of law and order, and police who were extremely corrupt,” Col. Jason B. Blevins told me upon his retirement in June.

This separates us from such countries.  Add in the court system, and the groundwork is laid for prosperity via property rights and contract enforcement.

National defense is another public good, and at least here Ms. Stover is on solid jurisdictional ground.

Nevertheless, “it’s not socialist,” Blevins added, “but a service that provides for the ‘common defense,’” one of the primary obligations of any national government, and accordingly one of the very first duties cited in our constitution.
 
Assisting those who have been wounded serving in that capacity, and/or acclimating them back into the society they defended, essentially makes the Veterans Administration an extension of that commitment.

Nearly every other program she mentions, and some currently being proposed, is either part of the welfare state, or falls within the purview of states and/or municipalities.  Nonetheless, the quality of all of them would be improved by the injection of (more) free market discipline.

The unwillingness of congress to make logical reforms to update social security is merely the rotten icing on top of a crumbling cake that is regularly, clearly outperformed by the stock market.  In this age of readily accessible index funds, there’s little reason we should not be able to recoup some or all of our earnings that have been taken away, so that we can bolster and secure a more comfortable retirement. 

Even though education merits public support in the name of equality of opportunity, that’s not justification for government to run the whole show. 

Not only would redirecting the financial responsibility and selection process to parents be the proper thing to do, the subsequent competition to serve this demand would most likely result in higher quality and lower costs. 

Higher up that ladder, we’ve seen in recent years the fallout from federal government overreach into students’ “receiving an education at a public university”: collective debt levels nearing $2 trillion, encouraging individual students to go hundreds of thousands of dollars into the red, to earn degrees of questionable marketability. 

If community college systems want to flirt with skewing incentives, that’s their prerogative.  It’s doubtful th
ough, that this is what citizens from South Carolina, to Illinois, to Utah have in mind when it comes to the “pooling of resources.”

Unmentioned by Ms. Rodriguez-Stover is the one constitutional function that arguably comes closest to socialism: the U.S. Postal Service.  Considering it has performed so poorly over the years as to attract private competition, perhaps the omission is not surprising.

Holding these examples up as selling points is not only questionable, but their lackluster results provide little comfort for more of the same, irrespective of what you want to call it.
​
Fortunately, my daughters can pull the constitution and DoI apps down from the cloud and do their part to remedy the generally sorry grasp we have of our brilliant federalist system.  Maybe then we can take Ben Franklin up on his oft-cited challenge when asked what kind of government we have: “a republic, if you can keep it.”

Every few months I meet up with some friends at a central Texas location for a BBQ lunch.  The conversation usually revolves around politics, history, economics and the like.  Last time, one of them quipped “I learned my history from Iron Maiden.”  That’s not the first time I’ve heard that, whether tongue-in-cheek or not. 

Last May a buddy of mine came down from Austin to check out Hatebreed’s 25th anniversary tour.  Opening the show were relative newcomers Skeletal Remains, Prong, who made their mark with the 1994 tune “Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck,” hardcore/thrash pioneers Agnostic Front, and one of the original death metal bands, Obituary.

We knew of most of the openers from back in the day (he and I created one-half of a wire sculpture band in high school: he made the guitarist, and I did a drum-set ala 1988 Charlie Benante of Anthrax), and I’m a huge Hatebreed fan, purveyors of the most inspirational lyrics in metal. 

On this night however, I left beaten into submission by Obituary. 

I promptly immersed myself in their world, buying five of their albums and learning to play three of their songs on bass.  I’d stay up late on weekends to watch their videos and concert clips.  I couldn’t help but notice how much fun it appeared they were having, particularly lead guitarist Kenny Andrews, who seems to always have a smile on his face.  Ironically enough, that led my thoughts to my daughters and my classes.

Their mother and I have laid many toys, books, gadgets, etc. before them to see what might snag their interest.  We’ve encouraged them in hobbies, projects, extracurricular activities about which they might be keen.  Now, with two in high school, we’re starting to chitchat about possible career paths. 

They have proven to be high-achievers, setting a great example for their two younger sisters.  We hasten to let them know that they have more choices than simply heading straight for a university.

They know that joining the military is a viable option.  They also know they could support themselves, even if temporarily, with something less than a bachelor’s degree.  One key to making that work that I remind them of ad nauseum is to spurn debt and live within your means, traits that can’t be lost on a metal musician. 

My preferred sub-genre is thrash, bands like Slayer, Exodus, Metallica et al.  While death metal music can be impressively intricate and complex, pulled off with awesome speed, the vocals are sometimes difficult to digest.  That could be the reason for the ceiling on its commercial success, not to mention the often gruesome lyrical content.  This explains why my buddy and I were both blown away by Obituary.

“This doesn’t sound so death-y as it does thrashy, doomy, and a little groovy,” we said to each other.  Moreover, John Tardy’s vocals lacked the clichéd “Cookie Monster” nature of many death metal vocalists, but are filled with all the rage, fire and full-throatedness that have made Death Angel’s Mark Osegueda and Anthrax’s Joey Belladonna a couple of my favorites.

It occurred to me only recently how modest are their lifestyles.  When you see a band take control on stage, and you’re surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands of other fans, it’s easy to think otherwise.

“I worked for almost my entire career, and it wasn’t until recently that the band has been so busy that this is all I do,” Obituary vocalist John Tardy recently told me via email.

He’s not the only one who does well to make ends meet.

A couple years ago, Cannibal Corpse vocalist George “Corpsegrinder” Fisher took the website Metal Injection along with him on one of his trips to Target to show them how he bargain shops.  When his lead guitarist Patrick O’Brien’s house caught fire last year, the news coverage showed a middle-class neighborhood that struck me as similar to the one in which my sister and I were raised.

Fortunately for these two, their band is based in Tampa, FL., where the cost of living is almost half what it is in the Bay Area, where former Testament bassist Greg Christian helped form that band.    

Christian has raised a stink more than once about his most recent departure in early 2014, calling the conditions “disgusting,” in which he was treated like little more than a “stage prop.”  Oddly lost on him is the fact that vocalist Chuck Billy and rhythm guitarist Eric Peterson “own the band,” having stuck it out during metal’s dog days of the 1990s.  They kept the enterprise afloat when bands like Exodus, Death Angel and Obituary temporarily bowed out.
They earned the right to set the terms to which Christian once agreed.

Alas, in this industry, ownership might provide only marginal benefits.  As Death Angel lead guitarist Rob Cavestany, who given his tenure presumably also has an ownership stake with Osegueda, told Billboard earlier this year that it’s not a breeze for his wife when he goes on tour, because she has to “be a single parent” while working “full-time.” 

Being in a metal band is not a path to riches, particularly if your band name doesn’t include “Sabbath” or “’Knot.”  Tardy is cognizant of this reality. 

Though he, brother/drummer John and rhythm guitarist Trevor Peres “are the owners” of the band and “make decisions together,” they understand incentives, and likely value continuity. 

“We all (including bassist Terry Butler) come home from tour with the same amount of money.  I’ve seen what happens to bands too many times when things aren’t equal.”

Some keep busy when their main gig is between recording and/or tours.

Similarly situated as a returning original member of Testament is lead guitarist Alex Skolnick.  After leaving the band in the early 1990s, he played with various other acts before diving full-time into jazz.  He returned to the band, along with  Christian, in the mid-2000s.

In addition to still shredding with Testament, Skolnick still plays jazz on the side, and has also hooked up with founding Megadeth bassist David Ellefson, from whom Christian could probably learn something. 

When he returned to Megadeth eight years after a fallout with frontman Dave Mustaine, he did so as a salaried employee.  One of the most grounded players in the genre, he recently said the key to his longevity is “know(ing) my place.” 

One benefit is freedom “in doing music with … other people.”  In addition to his Altitudes + Attitude project with Anthrax bassist Frank Bello, he also plays in Metal Allegiance, a group in which he has made two albums with an assortment of metal vocalists, bassist Mark Menghi, former Dream Theater drummer Mike Portnoy, and the aforementioned Skolnick.

It’s no wonder so-called supergroups fill in the gaps of activity of primary bands, and not just for “salaried members.”  Killer Be Killed counts Sepultura (former), Soulfy and Cavalera Conspiracy founder Max Cavalera among its ranks, alongside founding Mastodon bassist Troy Sanders.  Peterson has recorded three albums with his own Dragonlord.

Some branch out beyond making other music, like Hatebreed frontman Jamey Jasta’s podcast, Billy’s management company or Benante’s line of coffee. 

Unknown is whether or not Christian had/has any side-gigs.

I have heard however, interviewers put forth the theory of whether or not the presence of a fall back plan might possibly dull an urgency of going all-in to make it in the business.  Does it inhibit artists from producing the best possible product?

Tardy disabuses any such notion.

“I would tell anyone that wanted to play in a band, or create any art for that matter, to have a backup plan.  It’s a hard, unfair, unpredictable business.”

Another key is frugality.

Jason Newsted played bass for Metallica, one of the biggest bands in the world, but was famously caught on video “making sandwiches” backstage “because he’s too cheap to order room service.”
 
“You’re absolutely right I’m a cheapskate,” he responded.  “I’ve got plans for those millions (we’re going to make).” 

It allowed him to leave one of the most plum gigs in the business when it became untenable, and subsequently pursue other endeavors for which he previously lacked the time and freedom.

Granted, that is an outsized example, but it can also be achieved by eating in, performing your own household and auto maintenance, regularly socking away a chunk of income, etc.  In this case, it also means setting up and tuning your own gear before a show, which I watched Obituary do in September. 

These are the types of habits that provide people with maximum flexibility and control over the course of their life.  They’re ready when opportunity arises, or if they want to return to school, or attempt to turn a hobby into a career, etc.  It’s also what prevents them from being stuck in an undesirable job they hold down merely to service debt incurred chasing short-term satisfaction.  

Since I’ve reconnected with him twenty-five years after high school, I’ve learned that my buddy checks off a few of these boxes: he earned an associate’s degree; he lived in a camper he built while saving for a house; he takes on a second job occasionally; and, he sublets to a roommate from time to time.  The only debt he carries is a mortgage, and for his truck (itself a replacement for a car that he drove for seventeen years).

All the while he’s been gigging around Austin in various bands.  Though he’s written and recorded songs, he’s realistic about the odds of “hitting it big.”  Nonetheless, he’s set himself up to devote most of his free time and resources doing what he loves, keeping his chops up.

When I ask Tardy if he has any regrets knowing what he knows now, he confirms “I’m glad I stuck with what we did.  We have been really, really fortunate and have gotten to see so much of the world, made so many friends and gotten to share the stage with so many cool bands.”
 
One of the very first things we talk about in my macro classes is specialization; finding what you have a knack for and focusing on it.  Incorporate some training and (continuing) education, and you develop a comparative advantage, where few people can match what you do, and the value of it necessarily rises.
 
When I extend this lesson to my daughters, I tell them that sometimes there is some overlap between that and doing what you really enjoy.  If there isn’t, or your tastes change, capitalizing on your comparative advantage and good habits can free you up to make a change.
 
All too often we hear about or feel bad morale at work.  Power-hungry politicians like to point the finger of blame at “the Man/boss” as the source of our problems or animosity, when most times that person is the reason that job is even there to be had.  Very rarely do these politicos prescribe the correct medicine; holding up a mirror.  Newsflash: that doesn’t get votes.  For the most part, where we are in life is a function of choices we’ve made, or our failure to break vicious cycles.  

I told my two oldest daughters recently that between high school and their early thirties is their opportunity to make their mark, pave their path.  Once children (John Tardy, Peres and Butler are fathers) come along, our priorities necessarily change, so “don’t tie yourself down with bad habits until they do.”
​
They and their sisters will probably roll their eyes when they read this, assuming they read it at all.  Then again, they hear me preach these principles all the time.  My parents on the other hand, who gave me weird, sometimes mildly terrified looks when they heard this loud, abrasive music coming from my room, will be a harder sell trying to convince them that metal is an example of good, happy living.

Korn/Alice In Chains was an event I’d very much been looking forward to attending this year.

I hadn’t seen Korn since the 2006 Family Values tour, with Stone Sour and Deftones. Before that, I somewhat unwittingly saw them supporting their first album on a tour in support of Megadeth back in 1995.

Korn was one of the primary bands that filled my radio-void in the 1990s. Metal in general had gone underground then, and while I kept up with my favorite bans who kept recording, Korn bolstered aggressive music.

After they released one of their best albums “Take A Look In The Mirror,” lineup changes ensued, injecting a bit of turbulence into the enterprise. Much to their credit, they soldiered on. I kept up with them, but they fell a bit off my new-music radar. It was also about the same time I subscribed to SiriusXM, which served to redirect my attention to their Liquid Metal channel.

I saw them last night for the first time since that Family Values tour, and they didn’t disappoint.

Talk about redirecting my attention, bassist Reginald “Fieldy” Arvizu, arguably the element of the band that sets them most apart, seemed to play a different bass every song. Not only that, one could be forgiven for wondering if he was pulling them out of a bag of Skittles. I felt like I was seeing rainbows by the end of the evening.

One thing Korn is not known for is solos, so it was a bit of a challenge to figure out what they were playing when the spotlight turned to guitarist James “Munky” Schaffer. By the time I realized they were playing a snippet from Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall,” which they recorded for their “Greatest Hits” album in 2004, they had launched into another cover which was readily apparent as soon as the double-bass kicked in; Metallica’s “One.”

Jonathan Davis’ enthusiasm to “still be doing this after twenty-five (expletive) years" was palpable, and his gratitude toward the fans, genuine. They made a powerful run through many Korn staples, and I’m glad I was there to take it in.

This night for me however, belonged to Alice in Chains.

The more time goes on, the more it seems labels aren’t as equally adhesive to all surfaces. This has become most apparent recently with the “death” metal band Obituary. Lumped in with that subgenre since its inception, I’ve learned their music has more life than just guttural vocals and blastbeats.

This is in the back of my mind more and more whenever I refer to AiC as easily my favorite band to “come out of the grunge movement of the 1990s.”

I liked many of the other bands to come from that era, but Sean Kinney’s wanderingly groovy drums, Jerry Cantrell’s harmonizing vocals, and Layne Staley put them in a different league.

Unfortunately, Staley died before I got off my ass to see them live.

Alas, I still had the albums, radio still played them, so they were never far away. In time, the aforementioned mothership of metal, SXM’s Liquid Metal, had drawn more of my attention away.

Then, they came back.

They brought on William DuVall to share vocals and shore up guitar duties, and released “Black Turns to Blue” in 2009. “Check My Brain,” which they played, was their primary release from that album. They released “The Devil Put Dinosaurs Here” a few years later, but it wasn’t until last year’s “Rainier Fog” that I was hooked and reeled back in.

Layne Staley’s shoes are impossible to fill, but thanks to Jerry Cantrell’s increasingly prominent vocal role in those years, a foundation was laid to continue on, and make no mistake, they have!

DuVall certainly has his own solo sound, which will be more prominent on his forthcoming solo album. But when he and Cantrell sync up, it sounds an AiC evolution. “Rainier” and “Dionsaurs” are, in my book, as good as any album they have recorded, most mesmerizingly captured by “Pretty Done” off the latter.

I have been so sucked back into their orbit that this spring I learned a whole album’s worth of Mike Starr/Mike Inez bass lines. Saturday, for the first time, I got to see them live. A buddy of mine who was also at the show texted me a tune or two into their set exclaiming “they sound amazing!” He was right.

Perhaps not surprisingly, they played seven songs from their iconic second album “Dirt,” opening with the deep cut “Junkhead,” and it reminded me of when Metallica’s current “Worldwired” tour came through town. During their set, they played about as many selections from their most commercially successful black album. I remember leaving thinking they could have dropped a few of those in favor of some other classic and/or deeper cuts from any other of their albums.

No such thought crossed my mind with AiC set.

They put on such a good show, that even my least favorite ‘hit’ of theirs, “Man in the Box,” turned out to be a pretty enjoyable crowd sing-a-long.

I’ll never get to see Layne Staley perform, just like I’ll never be able to see late, great Metallica bassist Cliff Burton play. It’s also highly unlikely I’ll ever be able to witness the original Black Sabbath lineup, much like another “Big 4” show is doubtful to happen.
​
All things considered, after seeing Alice in Chains live, I’m probably as musically fulfilled as I’ll ever be.

In just over fifteen months, both my oldest daughters will likely have their drivers’ licenses.  In addition to driving themselves to school, football games, etc., they’ll also be able to get to a job.  Thank goodness we live in Texas, because they’ll face one less obstacle to finding employment than do kids in other states; a minimum wage prohibited by law from rising higher than the federal $7.25 level.

In their constant drive to shield all manner of folks from the responsibilities of adulthood, democrats in Washington want to more than double this price floor.  Even though many starting wages here in San Antonio are above the current minimum, they are well below the $15 proposal.  Needless to say, this proposal would shut out many teenagers who might not be grandfathered in by current jobs.  On the flip side, it would attract some to an easier gig than what they’re currently having to do for roughly the same pay. 

This perversion reflects the left’s general (mis)understanding of economics and incentives, not to mention human nature.  So convinced are they of the virtues of this policy that they dismiss job losses of as much as nearly 4 million, according to a recent CBO report, as “worth whatever the cost might be.”  The cynic could be forgiven for seeing this as a step closer to total government dependence when combined with a universal basic income, their supposed solution to the imminent takeover of our society by robots. 

Business’ constant drive to keep costs low in order to stay afloat, and by extension maintain a payroll, has prompted many to utilize such automation, which ironically makes these price controls obsolete.  To the extent that it makes jobs vanish, it’s a quiet disappearance via attrition: a worker leaves, but is not replaced.  Bigger companies can afford to experiment and deploy cost-saving technology.  As a result, a hike in the minimum wage is an affordable, temporary uptick against revenues.  It is also an assist from the government at keeping smaller competitors at bay.   

As a result, some companies are indifferent to it.  Others, not so much. 

During a debate last year about the Alamo City’s proposed paid-sick-leave ordinance, a lady told me she already offers it to her employees, and that her rivals should be compelled to do the same in order to “level the playing field.”
 
When Amazon announces that they “intend to … gain congressional support for an increase in the federal minimum wage” to the same $15 level they just granted to its employees, the scale is different, but the principle is the same.  Politicians laying out plans to “revitalize … rural America” should know better when Walmart urges “Congress to boost the federal minimum wage.”  It’s reminiscent of when golf courses tried to “Tiger-Proof” their holes by lengthening them to a distance manageable only by … Tiger Woods.   

Smaller companies are less able to absorb higher labor costs.  At some point, the owner cannot support herself and her family and therefore has to abandon her venture and find paid employment at a bigger firm.  Meanwhile, her former employees join the increased supply of labor clamoring for work at the bigger company that now needs fewer employees thanks to the aforementioned technology.  This is how monopolies AND monopsonies (sole buyer of labor) are born.   

This is not at all an argument against automation, which itself is a sign of progress and prosperity.  Often times a small business needs manual help to get off the ground.  It is doubtful, judging by their modest-looking storefronts, that local businesses can do so with anything more than basic technology i.e. cash register, debit card machine, etc.  They need the flexibility to find just the right people at freely agreed-upon wages, who are happy to get their foot in the door.  This is as much a case of jobs that will never be created, as it is those that we see today eventually disappearing. 
​
As it is, the only doors my daughters have wedged open is mine and that of their mothers.  I’m happy to keep paying them to tend to the lawn so I can do other things.  I would however, appreciate the workout from pushing a mower around lawn if they landed a job somewhere, though I suspect my wife would soon hire a housekeeper to make up for the lost mopping services.  In the end, that’s lower unemployment by three people.