The Origins of Language

I just read a review of this book and now I want it! Doesn't it look interesting?

Lifting the Dark Cloud of Depression

"Big Banks: Too Big for Congress to Handle?"

"President, GOP Spar over Financial Regulation Bill"

"Wall Street Tumbles Upon Goldman News"

Daily, we are bombarded with sobering messages about the state of the economy.  Everywhere you look, people seem to be struggling financially. Foreclosure, bankruptcy, unemployment, and discouragement are rampant, and no longer newsworthy.  People turn in vain to the government for reform and relief.  The headlines listed above are from today, but could just as easily be from the 1930's.  It seems as if not much has changed since the days of the Great Depression. 

As George Santayana (1863-1952) said, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." In an effort to understand our current economic situation, I turned to the past. As a country, we have been here before, and will likely be here again, if we don't individually, and collectively, figure this out.

Last week I read the Great Crash of 1929 by John Kenneth Galbraith.  Originally this book was published in the 1950's and was updated in the 80's with some insights regarding the economic recession of that decade.  I will admit, that I had a hard time getting excited about this book. Frankly, the details of the events leading up to the stock market crash in 1929 were tedious and boring.  The inner workings of the stock market and the associated foreign language were uncharted territory for me.  I am sure that I am not alone in my attitudes and general lack of knowledge on this subject.  Unfortunately, ignorance offers no protection, under the law, or in financial matters.

The 1920's were an era of great speculation.  People were excited about the future and the prospect of getting rich.  The real estate speculation boom in Florida was in full swing.  Individuals were purchasing the option to purchase swamp land sight unseen.  Investment trusts were a recent invention, and everyone was jumping on the band wagon.  If some is good then more is better, right?   Discontent and ingratitude can turn a healthy desire for the good life to self-destructive greed.  Everyday citizens were investing their savings in ventures they knew little about, on the lofty promises of getting rich quick. The caustic combination of ignorance and greed lead to the great crash in October of 1929.

How many of us have a solid understanding of personal finance?  Do you know what tax bracket you are in?  Do you know what interest rates you are paying versus being paid?  Do you know the tax implications of home ownership versus renting?  Most people want MORE money and the things money can buy, but do we really understand how money works?  I know that I don't.  It is a subject that I have ignored and felt best left to the experts.  That was the attitude of the general population of the 1920's.  They trusted their bankers, investment advisers, Wall Street executives, and their government. Then, one by one these guardians began to crumble.

Once the crash hit, the tides turned quickly.  Those that were revered were now hated.  Institutions of trust were now feared.  The rich became instantly poor and the poor became destitute.  Fortunes were made and lost on what today we would call "vapor-ware".  In many cases the assets traded at high rates of return had no actual tangible value.  The prevailing attitude of the nation was fear laced with a heavy serving of doubt.  Distrust of Wall Street, banks, industry leaders, and government officials was pervasive.

Once down, the economy of the country did not recover for a long time.  During this time the distrust, fear and doubt only increased.  These attitudes prevented individuals from starting businesses, making investments, purchasing property & goods, or taking any kind of risk that would ultimately lead to financial gain.  With no financial activity there can be no financial growth.  The extensive lack of faith, kept this country depressed for a decade.

The combination of ignorance and greed produces an individual easily exploited.  Individuals armed with financial knowledge make better investment decisions and raise the stability of our economy as a whole.  It starts with the individual, with you and with me.  

Realizing that my attitudes about my personal finances are tied to the generations before me has been a huge eye opener.  Having never lived through serious deprivation, I often wondered why I had a strong aversion to eat or use the last of anything.  It didn't make sense that I would fear homelessness and starvation when I had never experienced these for myself. They are deeply ingrained behavior patterns that are both intentionally taught and energetically passed down to us in our DNA.  To dispel the lingering dark cloud each of us must gain more factual financial knowledge, and determine to consciously let go of the negative emotions that tie us to our collective, tragic past. As Knowledge and gratitude replace ignorance and greed, fear and doubt will give way to faith and hope.

Spring in the Land of Eternal Summer

After finally crossing the dreaded word "taxes" off my to-do list this morning, it's time to get happy!  I beat my usual midnight on the 15th deadline by a full 36 hours or so this year.  Man, am I on it or what?  Other than the tax thing, Spring is awesome!

 I really love all the traditional Spring flowers; tulips, daffodils, hyacinths, lilacs, and the like.  Bulb flowers, especially tulips, have such clean lines.  They are no fuss flowers.  They are hardy and strong.  Their colors are bold.  From the cold, snow covered earth they boldly burst forth and declare their presence.  They stand tall and straight and demand notice.  The intoxicating smell of a lilac bush can draw me from blocks away.  It's distinct, unmistakable, and fleeting.  No other flower smells anything like a lilac.  It stands alone as Queen of the olfactory realm for a few weeks each year. It's been years, but thanks to my memory I can replay the sensory treats of a Midwest Spring.

Spring in the land of eternal Summer isn't quite as outwardly expressive as it is nearly everywhere else. Since nothing dies over the winter there is no sweeping, drama of rebirth.  The temperature goes up a few degrees, the rain of winter continues, and things get a little greener. The scantily clad plumeria trees of winter put on a full dress of blooms and fill the air with the rich heady scent that was softly teasing all winter long. The trees on the green mountainsides are now dotted with bright splashes of purple, red and orange.  Rather than awakening from a deep sleep, Spring in Hawaii is more like going from a waltz to a samba.  The dance never stops, it just changes tempo..

Regardless of the temperature outside, Spring is a season of change for me.  It's a time of renewal in energy and spirit.  It's time to get up and move!  Get outside and do something!  Stand up and make things happen!  Be like the tulip and boldly strike out against all opposition!  Or turn up the intensity and fill life with beauty and sweetness to overflowing like the plumeria, bougainvillea, and hibiscus of the tropics.  This Spring is no different, and I am excited about the future and all the fun that lies ahead.

Meetings and Partings

"It's all right, children. Life is made up of meetings and partings. That is the way of it. I am sure that we shall never forget ..." (Kermit the Frog, The Muppet Christmas Carol)

 

I am all right with the meetings, it's the partings I don't enjoy so much.  Ryker's best friend all through high school was over for dinner last night with his family.  They are moving to Germany next week.  It seems like yesterday they met on the first day of Freshman year at Campbell High School.  Now here they are young men going off on their separate ways in the world. It seems unlikely that their paths will cross again.

 

Unique Experiences

Yesterday was a singular day.  It did not fit the normal Saturday mold.  The entire day was odd, but two experiences stand out.  

For the last week I have had what felt like a splinter in my right foot.  I wore super thin sandals when we went to the North Shore last week and I thought I hurt it while walking on the sharp rocks at Laie Point.  Instead of getting better, it was getting more sore.   I could feel something very fine and short when I passed my finger over the red spot on the bottom of my foot, but I couldn't see it.  Yesterday I had Carl take a look at with his super magnifying glasses (Thanks Dad for giving him those.  They are awesome for splinter extraction!). Sure enough, with those glasses he had it out in seconds.  It was a hair.  A Charlie hair.  Unmistakeably, Charlie's blond hair with a brown tip.

I have no idea how that hair became embedded deep in the tissue of my foot.  Maybe it was somehow a reminder of what happened with Charlie and how hard and painful it has been for me to let those emotions go.  It was deep, and it hurt.  Without help, the pain would have continued to increase.  That's how life can be sometimes.  What looks to be something small and harmless, can cause us deep pain that we can not solve on our own.  Sometimes we need help, and even when those problems seem small, it is important to get the help we need.



It has been raining off and on here for the last week or so.  It is the uniquely tropical sort of rain consisting of a fine, warm, mist falling while the sun shines.  It's wonderful.  Yesterday afternoon I ran out and from of the corner of my eye I saw a rainbow.  As I turned my head, to take a good look, it took my breath away.  It was the largest, brightest, unbroken rainbow I have ever seen that close.  I wanted to take a photo, but it was so large that no camera I own could capture it.  It stretched from Pearl City all the way across Pearl Harbor.  At least that's how it appeared from my perspective.  It was glorious and beautiful.  Without rain in our lives, those breathtaking moments are not possible.

Reach for the Sun

In the shade

Feeling warmth 

Reach with branches yet unsprouted

In reaching they are born

Thank You

I am so thankful for all of my good friends and family.  You guys are the best!  Thank you for not making me talk about this.  Thank you for sending me funny videos to watch, silly jokes to read, and games to play.  I appreciate the mental distractions.  Even if you didn't know what was going on, or why I needed the smiles, thanks for sending them my way.  You are truly an answer to my prayers.  Love you!!

Some Days Just Suck

There are days when what I think is not something I want to share.  I've been told that my blog is only the "nice" side of me, not the real picture.  I guess that's true.  My momma taught me that if I can't say something nice, I shouldn't say anything at all.  I suppose my blog is a good example of that.  So, when I'm silent you can assume that I am either too busy, or I have nothing nice to say.  Most of the time I'm just busy.  I have ideas of things I want to write, but not the time to post them.  The last few days, well, it's been the latter. This is not a nice story.  Frankly, it sucks.

Writing is good therapy for me.  It helps me sort out my thoughts.  I type a line, then delete.  Try it again another way, with slightly different words, backspace again, until the words match my thoughts.  Sometimes once I get the words out I decide I don't feel that way anymore and I delete them for good.  Sometimes the point I get too seems so pathetic, even to me, that I don't want to save it and ever remember feeling that way.  More often, my writing and self editing bring me focus.  (See, just there I started to write "more concise ...." which wasn't exactly it, so I backspaced to the point that it was right, and tried again.  Now, maybe I should just go delete it all.)  So, for today, for this post, I'm going to let down the guard, and let you in.  I'm not feeling very nice things right now, and I need to write.  I'm going to ramble on the way I normally would in private and post it here.  Not to worry, it's just an experiment, next post I promise I will be back to my nice self.  It might be a few days, or even longer, before I am up to writing something good for public consumption again.  Maybe I will just post pretty pictures to quickly move this thing off the top of the page.  I'm sure no one will want to read my rambling crap more than once, if that.  Just for the sake of this experiment, please ignore any grammar errors.  I'm going for honest tonight, not the "A+" with a gold star. 

So, you all know that in the last year and a few months we went from no dogs to three dogs.  Carl and I had a dog 18 years ago, but none since.  So, we weren't 1st time dog owners, but pretty dang close to it.  We were certainly out of practice at it all.  It started in January with Chester, who was a puppy we got from friends who discovered they weren't 'dog people'.  In March, after a string of robberiess in our carport and yard, we got Charlie to guard our house.  He was offered on Craiglist inexpensively, and seemed the perfect fit.  I really don't want to write about this - I feel sick to my stomach right now just thinking about it.  Somehow I have to let it go, and I can't bare the thought of telling this story again, live and in person to another soul, so I supposed getting it all out here and now is a good idea, as much as I'd rather just go play scrabble and pretend everything is fine.  It's not fine.  My heart is broken and I feel terrible.  

Yesterday I had to take him to the Humane Society and they put him to sleep.  There, I said it.  It's ugly isn't it?  It just isn't right.  It's one of those things that should never, ever, ever have to happen, but it did and it sucks and I feel like crap about it.  When we adopted him, his previous owner said that he was getting rid of him because he had moved to a tiny studio in town and just couldn't keep him there.  Charlie is a lab/pit bull mix and wasn't a huge dog, but certainly not a dog that could be happy living in a tiny condo.  Anyway, he promised vet records, but never delivered.  He had hives and other skin junk going on.  We took him to the vet, got him well, and started living with our 2 dogs.  (Shuggie, otherwise known as Little, showed up a few months later, starving and neglected.) He was so anxious.  That's an understatement.  He was riddled with anxiety and fear is probably more accurate.  One neighbor made him especially crazy.  Eventually he and the neighbor had an altercation, and the man was bit.  It could have been a lot worse, but it was not good.  There were other incidents, and the aggression was unpredictable.  I read all of Cesar's books, and employed his methods.  They seemed to help, but even then, there was no real rhyme or reason to the outbursts.  I really hate admitting this.  I don't like to fail.  It feels like we failed Charlie. I would much rather tell a success story, or just keep my mouth shut.  Anyway, we tried and tried, and I think Carl said it best, "That dog is just slightly unhinged."  Last week we had house guests and he was not well behaved.  Some of the things he did had me worried and he spent some serious time in the garage away from the guests because of it.  The other night, Quincie and her friend were just heading out to walk all the dogs when Charlie saw our neighbor (not the same neighbor that he bit, this was someone else.  The neighbor that made him go nuts was at our old house.)and his boxer puppy walking down the block.  The other dog was with his owner, on a leash.  Charlie went crazy, pulled away from Quincie and went on the attack.  The man was understandably angry, yelled at her, and took his dog home.  Later that night I went over and spoke with him.  He is a nice guy.  We are very lucky. 
I guess you could say that was the last straw.  We had to do something.  Everyday we were taking a chance that he would hurt someone seriously, and that would be terrible, so irresponsible, especially when we knew, we knew he was unhinged and very strong and just not predictable.  While evaluating him, worker at the humane society discovered that he had a micro chip.  That micro chip had his original owners name and phone number on it.  At that point, that person was considered his legal owner, and would have final say on his fate.  They spoke to her, and the end was determined.  Apparently we were not his 2nd owners, but at least the 3rd.  He had a history of similar problems in his short 2 and half years of life.  I can't go through all the details of the story from here.  My mind just won't let me.  The conversations that led to the ultimate decision, the prayers, the pleas, the ideas that were considered and rejected, all of that, is just too agonizing to hash over.  I have to let it go or it will consume me.  I can say this, and hopefully sum it all up, and you can get a glimpse of the pain from a far enough distance that it doesn't rub off on you:  Sometimes, doing the right thing feels so terribly, horribly wrong, that you second guess your decision every fragment of each moment all along the way.  Sometimes what you have to do goes against every natural fiber of who you are.  Sometimes your heart breaks and sometimes you need something, or someone, outside of yourself to hold you up, and help you go on. Some days just suck.  I'm so grateful that Ryker was there with me.  As much as I wish I could have spared him that pain, rather than shared it with him, I am grateful that I was not alone. He is a very special person, and I am so privileged to be his mother.  As a mother, as a friend, as just me, I would like to shield everyone from the ugliness of the world, and take it all on myself if it would keep it off those I love.

I suppose that's why my blog is usually just "nice".  The world is full of days like yesterday for all of us.  I don't even want to HAVE days like yesterday, and I certainly don't want to SHARE them with others and spread the unhappiness.  I'm not even sure I'm going to share what I have written tonight.  If you see it now, and it is gone later, you will know I took it down.  It doesn't seem fair to pass on all this sadness.  Some may say, "Come on Wendy, he was just a dog."  But to me, a life is a life and love is love, and damn it, I love Charlie and his life was sacred.  I feel terrible that he trusted me and I led him to his death.  I do take comfort knowing that we gave him a happy home for a year, and that we really did love him and tried our best to help him.  The employees working there yesterday are special people.  They were kind, supportive, helpful and went beyond professional courtesy.  I am grateful for their goodness and that Charlie's last moments were not in a scary negative place. 

It's been a sad couple of days in our house.  If we are not ourselves, now you know why.  We are sad.  We had to do a hard, hard, hard thing.  We miss our dog.