About three months ago, Rita and I decided not to throw Julia a birthday party. We figured that it wasn’t worth spending a whopping $200 to have it at a pizza parlor. So we focused on buying her presents and didn’t put much effort into it. But then wouldn’t you know, Chey, Julia’s biological father, suggested having a pizza over at his place with his new wife. So again, Rita and I didn’t worry too much about the details and bought some more presents.

Then at the last minute, we learned Chey had to move that weekend, if there would be a party we would be throwing it. We racked our brains to think of a good idea…and at last we thought…why not have a pool party? Sure, there might be snow-cover elsewhere but not in Cougar Country.  Our complex’s pool had plenty of space, and we found a place that was doing a $5 promotion for large pizzas. Rita also made sure to invite some of her friends with kids as well as Julia’s classmates.

We were hoping enough people would show to not make it lame…but before we know…it blew up. First there were 20, then 30, then 40 kids RSVP’d. We had to buy some candy for party favors at Costco, as well as the cake. But it was all under control, that is, until I told Rita.

“What Justin’s flag football championship starts at the same time as the party?!?”

“No, I said…it’s a half hour before.”

Rita was none too happy that she had to set up the party without me, but luckily our friend Libby was available to help out. That left me with the other task….make sure Justin made it to the game on time.

And what a game it was. The flag football league doesn’t keep track of statistics officially. But at the end of the regular season, teams are assigned “match up” games against the competition. Justin’s school had been undefeated, earning them a slot in the top bowl game. Parents were psyched, the kids were excited, and the sunshine abundant.

Still, the other team despite having lost once (but never playing Justin’s school) had its fundamentals down. It’s blocking was crisp; it’s routing running precise. Runners could hit the lane and go. But these were still fourth and fifth graders.

Justin’s teammate (and wide receiver extraordinaire) Juan returned the opening kick off into the red zone. But penalties cost the Cardinals a first down, and opened up the Ponies to break a crushing run into the end zone. It would stay 7-0 until the fourth quarter, when heroics got Justin’s team to pay dirt. The other teams pursued a touchdown, but was stopped on a fourth down in the red zone.

The game was almost over, and all the Cardinals had to do was move the ball. But remember how I mentioned how good the Ponies were at blocking…well….that wasn’t the case for Justin’s teammates. The Ponies managed to get to Josh, the Cardinal QB many times and smothered Juan. That left Justin’s team to punt and enter the “seven plays”.

When time expires, there are seven untimed downs. Upon completion the game enters a college football style overtime period. The first untimed down added some yard, but things still looked good for Cardinals. But the second snap saw the same Pony player pivot from left to right and break a run worthy of Walter Payton. We all sat in stunned silence.

But there was still a chance. If the Cardinals scored in less than four plays, they could still win. The Ponies had missed the extra point to make it 13-7. But on the first play from scrimmage, Josh the QB did the unthinkable and threw it right to the other team. The referee called the game right then and there. Justin’s team burst out crying. They couldn’t believe it. A perfect season, until now.

Suddenly parents began to sound circumspect.

“Maybe we put too much pressure on them,” one of the moms said.

Justin was still sobbing as we got back to the car. I asked him if he liked milkshakes and he said yes. So we made tracks for home, via the local McDonald’s. On the way, I told him that everyone loses and that he had a choice to make. He could either let the bad feelings and sadness overwhelm and paralyze him. Or he could use the loss to motivate him for next season.

Of course, being nine years old, my words sort of flowed over him. It knew it would take time for him to understand what I said.

But perhaps the most telling thing was that no one mentioned the obvious. The Ponies and Cardinals both feed into the same high school. With the talent I saw on Saturday, the future looks bright.

We made it back in time to see Julia cut her cake and open presents. It suddenly occurred to Rita and I that Julia probably received a greater dollar amount in presents than we actually spent at the party. Rita was glad that she missed the heartbreak defeat for the Cardinals. But I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

Crushing defeats are the stuff of legend, and are how champions are made. And Justin, wouldn’t you know, is already talking about you guessed it… next season.

Chances are, you have already heard about the epic dustup this week at UCLA. The usually sedate UC Regents meeting was punctuated by protests, arrests, and lots of noise. Chances also are that you have heard a myriad of justifications for both sides…ranging from the need to keep education affordable to the fact that California is “broke”.

I could regurgitate a fairly technical solution for the University of California system that will sound like stereo instructions. As passionate as people are about fees…no one really pays attention once you start talking about defined benefit contributions and capital renewal formulae.

Instead I’m going to say something much different. I'm going to tell you, as a matter of first hand experience that the fee increases are the product of an inept and misguided student government over the last 20 years. Not because these student governments were liberal (or conservative), not because they were extremist, and not even because they were students. Nope, it’s because UCLA’s best and brightest usually were not interested in politics. (Sound familiar at all?)

As a result, those that were politically active used resources to focus on things like outreach for high school in underrepresented minority groups. Or they might stage a protest and claim that Prop 209 (which outlawed affirmative action in California) should be repealed. And while this was mildly entertaining, I thought it was a waste. I mean, what’s the point of having student advocates if they can’t be um….effective….at getting what they want?

Sadly, the “diversity agenda” at UCLA also proved divisive to most white and Asian students who also didn’t want to associate with the “crazies” in student government. And as a result, the protests this week are in vain. Sure it’s good to see students motivated and galvanized into action, to see them not spending countless hours playing Starcraft over UCLA’s T3 LAN connection while sipping Frappucinos. But it’s equally sad to see them only motivated when in fact the die is already cast.

The fee increases in question will do more to devastate the UC’s minority population than Ward Connerly and Prop 209 ever could. The Regents and the UC system know full well that the University’s Asian and white bourgeoisie would pay the increased cost with nary a whimper. They know that no matter how big and scary the protests seem on TV, it’s a small fraction of the actual student population.

And that’s a shame, largely because it’s these very students who will benefit the most from the increase. Why you ask? Because as the door shuts on California’s egalitarian system of higher education, so will its deep reservoir of human capital evaporate.   The protesters need not worry too much, because if they can find a way to finish, there will be precious little competition for the state’s best jobs and opportunities in the future. It is those that will come after that shall suffer the most and no one seems eager to admit that.

For after them, the deluge. And if they resist, let them eat cake….

Just minutes after Friday the 13th began, the freakiness was already underway. Julia had been feeling sick to her stomach and decided to hurl. I asked how she felt, and before long it appeared she might have the season’s newest fad: swine flu. I began to feel a little under the weather that day at work…but for the time being I thought Rita, Justin, and I might escape getting sick. Rita took Julia to the urgent care center and she tested positive for H1N1. So we hunkered down on Friday night and decided to plan. Justin’s last game of the season was the next day, I told Rita that I would stay home with Julia and let the two of them go instead.

But then, after watching Julia prostrate on the couch all day Friday with a mixing bowl by her side…she suddenly rebounded like nothing had happened. So we all went to the game. I was still careful to disinfect stuff until her fever had long subsided. I felt a little crappy as the weekend rolled on…but I didn’t even have a fever.

Come Monday morning, I realized that my sore throat wasn’t going away or because I was thirsty. I scheduled an afternoon appointment with my doctor. Julia went back to school and we thought that it was over.

Rita stopped to eat lunch and we received a call from her doctor at urgent care about the lab test results. There was no swine flu, only a bacterium called Haemophilus influenzae. We got a call from the school nurse who decided Julia should be sent home from school and that we should follow up with the urgent care doctor. Although it’s possible to get serious complications from H. influenza, the doctor didn’t think we were sick even though we felt a little dumpy. He did prescribe antibiotics for Julia. This diagnosed explained a lot but not everything. First, 98% of the patients who test positive for H1N1 on the rapid test will be confirmed by the lab. Yet Julia managed to be in that 2%.

My doctor came to a slightly different conclusion. He saw nothing to get excited about symptom wise but did prescribe antibiotics for me. He suspected that I could have the swine flu but that I would be experiencing more body aches. He suggested Julia continue taking Tamiflu until it was gone.

We then went on to the pharmacy. It was crowded and unusually slow. To make matters worse, I no longer had a working pharmacy card through my insurer…and the pharmacy didn’t know who to call. This forced me to go to find the number myself and call the distributor. Armed with that, I returned around dinner time and had to wait 30 minutes even after the insurance had been processed. After that, I figured the day was done.

But then, as the night wore on Rita began to feel worse and worse. After discussing it for a while, she elected to go to another urgent care center the next day. We sat and waited almost two hours before being seen. The conclusion that doctor came to was strep throat…even though neither Julia nor I had it. Stunned, I left the urgent care center and dropped off Rita’s prescriptions.

Nothing made sense, but we began to wonder just how Julia got sick in the first place. The school nurse told us that she had  been immunized for H. influenza multiple times. But the culture taken on Friday didn’t test positive for streptococcus either…..

Do you really want to know the highlight of my week? It was taking Rita and the kids out to dinner at this great Chicago-style pizza parlor, followed by a picnic date in the park the day before. (Of course, don’t get me started on the fact that it was “private park” owned and for homeowner association members only with a keycode to get into the bathroom…)

Instead, I realized that people who read my blog might get the impression that I’m some sort of eternal pessimist that revels like skinny-dipping kid from Andover in a lake of cynicism. But it’s not true. I actually am….surprise, surprise an optimist. What I’m not is myopic, at least figuratively speaking.

So rest assured that as baleful as my opinions might sound today, they belie the fact that I really do think in the end things will get better. The recession, I assure you will end. But perhaps the most common misconception people have is that the future will look like the past. The “Economist” is fond of the old saying, “Drop a frog in a boiling pot of water and it hops out. Drop a frog in a tepid pot of water, turn up the heat slowly, and it dies.” Drastic changes are easy to see, subtle ones are not.

And so the earth is always turning beneath our feet regardless of if we can feel it or not. And as stagnant and gloomy as the present may appear, so too will the future seem artificially bright and glorious. The future isn’t tomorrow…it’s already begun today.

By the time November rolls around, it’s an achievement for a football team to be undefeated. But I’m not talking about the Indianapolis Colts, the New Orleans Saints, the Florida Gators, the Boise State Broncos, or even some high school squad. No I’m talking about Justin’s flag football team. With only one game remaining, his school is now undefeated and gunning for the City fourth grade championship.

It’s been nothing if not unreal. To watch his team week in and week out with seeming ease as if nothing can stop them. Blowouts, barnburners…all with the same result.

It’s come to this: win this weekend and get a spot in the championship game. Lose and go home. The final game was scheduled for this Friday night…which provided plenty of food for thought. It is, after all, the 13th…..

So now comes the moment of destiny, and to be fair, it will be a cruel outcome no matter what happens. For it’s not realistic for young boys to not know what losing is. To shield them from the reality that life is about coming back from defeat, not from being perfect. Neither though, are they deserving to have their dreams crushed in one game.

But I’ve seen in my short life many the epic collapse. Who, after all, can forget what happened to UCLA in 1998 on the soggy grass of the Orange Bowl? Or the deafening silence following the 2006 Rose Bowl? To say nothing of Super Bowl XLII.

It’s enough to make you hold your breath, not that Justin seems to care….

Call me strange, but I tend to like the most thought-provoking of holidays. I’m big on New Year’s. Thanksgiving. And for that matter Halloween. When else do we focus on the exaggerations of our mind, our hopes, fears, and dreams?

And so I got all excited this year…making sure that we bought a huge pumpkin to carve and that I created a really creative costume. But as luck would have it, you probably had a more blog-worthy time than I did.

Although I bought the big pumpkin, Rita managed to slip and fall at my friend’s place the day after the wedding. She was checked out by her boyfriend who is an ER doctor. But within a couple days, she lost her balance again, this time breaking a couple toes. That necessitate a visit to urgent care and a prescription for Vicodin.

No sooner were we on our way to her friend’s party than she began to nod off from a combination of painkillers and a stiff margarita. But we went to the party nonetheless and had a good time. Rita, for her part, talked to her friends. I had a difference experience, somehow uncovering the handful of single men who wandered into the party and noticed “all the hot girls”. I had to break it to them that Rita’s friend is the organizer for a Mom’s Club. And although we were far outside the boundaries of Cougar Country proper…you would have never known.

Come midnight, however, Rita sat down on the couch and fell asleep. Some of her friends and other partygoers wondered why I didn’t wake her up. That answer is that she was almost catatonic. Even shaking her did nothing. But I knew that she would be even more mad if we left the party early. So there I was, eating cake, hors d’ouerves, and watching the single guys try desperately to score.

Rita, doing her best Rip Van Winkle, awoke to the party winding down after 2am. Suddenly we realized most everyone was gone; the bartender and caterer were beginning to pack up. And oh yes, the police had called. But yet, an odd amalgam of people hung on…including the one guy who decided to go as ….yes….Balloon Boy.

So at about 3am, we left drove to a local hotel and spent the night. The next day, Justin and his football team extended their unbeaten streak to 4-0.

It’s not possible to summarize my long weekend going to a friend’s wedding. That because it was a significant trip not just for the bride and groom, but Rita and I. As a result, rather than try to condense the weighty feeling of going back to what you know just as you approach one of life’s milestones, my thoughts will probably get mixed into other posts.

But for those of you that like my economic analysis, I couldn’t resist saying something about the trip there. Namely, Rita and I booked a one-stop flight to Oakland through Ontario. WE did it because it was cheaper than flying direct. However, the flight ended up being overbooked (this was a Friday). So they needed volunteers to be shifted to another flight. The irony was that this flight left only five minutes later and was also one-stop, going through LAX instead. And for the privilege, Southwest provided us not just with a voucher, but they also refunded our tickets for the original flight onto said voucher. A total value of around $500.

Once aboard, we noticed that the plane was only about half full. Sitting in row twenty, there was no one behind Rita and I until we reached Los Angeles.

One the way home, however, our flight was cancelled. Not because of a weather delay or mechanical problem, I learned but likely because it was too empty. Not only that, but it was Southwest policy to delay another flight to “fill it up” with passenger stranded by the cancellation. This is because unlike the old days when a “direct” flight on Southwest went through three cities or so, now it is more like five. Those worried that air travel has become the “Greyhound of the Skies”, take heart. This whole operation smelled more like Amtrak than anything else.

It took some cajoling in Oakland, but we had them put on on another one-stop flight home that left a little bit early than the one they wanted to put us on. But the voucher, it’s still good for the next year. And hopefully, so will Southwest.

A little bundle of joy landed on our doorstep recently, but it wasn’t delivered by the stork. No, FedEx left a package for us in broad daylight while we were out of the house on Saturday.

You see, Rita’s favorite holiday by far is Christmas. So last week she wasted no time in taking advantage of Day-After-Thanksgiving Christmas shopping. What’s that you say, it’s only October? Well yeah…I guess it was more Day-After-Canadian Thanksgiving Christmas shopping…but hey…minor details, right?

Among the great deals Rita found was none other than a Specialized Domestic Partner Homing Device (SDPHD) also known as a Blackberry. The reason? Neither she or I was on contract currently and Verizon was more than willing to give us the phone for free if we signed up for a new, expensive plan. Verizon has been marketing their SDPHDs quite aggressively all year, mainly because they always think the next model is going to the “iPhone killer”.

We also found out subsequently that if we upgraded to a family plan (something I don’t particularly like) Rita could get her very own Specialized Domestic Partnership Homing Device (SDPHD) too. So we did. All for “free”.

But here’s the kicker. On my old plan with Sprint, I had free incoming calls as a legacy customer with Nextel. So I never really worried about my minutes because I would have to initiate a call to incur minutes. Now, however it’s the opposite problem. We have ten numbers we can call for free, all Verizon numbers are free, and all text messages are Internet charges are included but I have to share minutes with you know who.

So as you might guess I’m sudden a big fan of text messaging, which heretofore was not something I cared much for. But SDPHD of course, expedites that problem and can turn even the most mild-mannered person into a Crack-Berry addict.

And I confess if nothing else, I have configured my SDPHD to broadcast different sounds based on what sort of communication I’m receiving, be a phone call, text message, email, IM, or Facebook update. You’d think it’d be horribly distracting I’m sure…but truth be told….I’m just not that popular.

I finally think I understand the healthcare debate.

It took a while, but my epiphany came courtesy of none other than Wendell Potter. The former public relations head for CIGNA, going rogue has appeared numerous times on television in the last year to incriminate his old line of work. It’s often like watching “Macbeth”: the insurers have no hope of being good because they are influence to do bad by others, namely Wall Street.

And what do you know, the health care debate makes perfect sense from the standing outside 70 Pine Street in New York. Or 3555 Farnham Street in Omaha for that matter.

The former is the world headquarter of AIG, the later Berkshire Hathaway. Both are giants in the world of insurance for decidedly different reasons. And both are crucial to the overall explanation.

It’s no secret that big insurance companies (and by extension Warren Buffett and his firm Berkshire Hathaway) use insurance premiums as capital for investments. Then by the times those investments mature, the companies have not just enough money to pay claims, but also a healthy profit as well. This also means that insurance companies are reliable institutional investors, even more so than banks. Well brick-and-mortar banks at least.

Therefore, a government mandate to buy insurance is always attractive to both Wall Street and insurance companies because it ensures a steady stream of income. But it’s also true that some type of insurance is more profitable than other, and even now, medical policies are not exactly money-makers. To compensate, you might expect, the insurers have to think of ways to be profitable including such methods as “rescission”.

Moreover, it’s been pointed out repeatedly that most the uninsured in the US (who aren’t illegal aliens) are young people. Young people are a boon to healthcare companies (you’d think) because they don’t get sick very often. (Then again, this ignores the fact that today’s young people aren’t particularly healthy because of the lack of open space and our progressively deteriorating diet…but don’t tell CIGNA that…)

The public option, as its been described, causes problems for this system because the government could offer at cost insurance (like Medicare) and take away much of the profits from the industry. But wait you say, the government issues other types of insurance for things like floods and there’s Medicare and Medicaid. Well this is no coincidence. You can’t make much money insuring against floods because the “100 year floodplains” can be hit more frequently than once every hundred years and because it’s really hard to say that something isn’t flood damage when it is. Plus, Medicare and Medicaid conveniently cover the part of the population who are the sickest, and therefore least profitable.

But it is probably true much as the insurers fear the public option, it’s probably more destructive to Wall Street. Why you ask? Because most other big institutional investors like pension funds and university endowments are in decline. This is because both large companies and universities have passed on much of the cost to their operations to their employees and students over the last 60 years. Now, there’s precious left to privatize other than health care and ….Social Security….(awkward pause).

The reason, however, I haven’t said much about “Obamacare” previously is that it won’t have that much of an impact. Premiums are going to rise regardless. And no matter what the “mandate” allow the insurers to charge, the money is not there. Most the wealth in this country is in the hands of people much older than the target demographic of the mandate. And the gap continues to grow. But don’t tell Wall Street that. They continue to think they cannot be victims of their own economic success, that there has to be billions of dollars still ripe for the taking. You know, just like during the housing boom when everyone became a millionaire…. How is that going again? I forgot.

Have you ever had bitchin’ plans for a long weekend only to see them torpedoed by something you do hours after you get off work? You know, like when you head to Vegas and shoot your whole wad the first night and wake up the next day hung over and unable to motivate yourself to go out again? Well that’s what happened this weekend to me….although I promise I’ve been nowhere close to Vegas.

See, this week is fall break for Cougar Country Unified and Rita traditionally sends the kids to see her parents in San Diego. The plan is that we rendezvous with her folks deep in the Sonoran Delta, where they usually spend the night before. We come in, drop off the children, and then wait until the next day to go home.

Throwing a big, giant monkey wrench into things was that Justin had his first flag football game Friday night. He was shall we say, excited about playing under the lights. (No I’m serious, he got excited that the game was played at night under artificial lights.) The way it works is that the city organizes the teams by the school they attend. (For the longest time we didn’t realize his team’s opponent was a Catholic school abbreviated to “OLPH”.) The school uniform crowd apparently didn’t respect Justin or his teammates much but they should have.

Instead of pounding on Justin and company, OLPH was stymied all game. No points. Justin meanwhile saw little action either, with the quarterback rolling out plenty of times but not hitting many of his guys. It got to be the fourth quarter, and then the game really started heating up. First, OLPH tossed a bomb at the end zone trying to break the tie. Justin meanwhile, had none of that and picked it off. His school, the Cardinals, began to march down the field until they tossed a big one for a touchdown. But wait, there was an illegal motion penalty negating the play. And it was Justin who was guilty.

D’oh.

OLPH managed to hurl another one into the end zone as the seconds ticked down. But it sailed out the back, with the player unable to grab it. That meant overtime.

At this point, the other kids were going home. The soccer leagues on other fields also were packing up their stuff. Rita and I had stopped sitting in our folding chairs long before the start of the over time. We asked the ref how it was supposed to work. It turns out it’s much like college, where the teams get a certain number of plays from a pre-determined started down near the end zone. The first over time yielded touchdowns on both sides but both failed on the extra point. (There is no kicking, just conversions.) In the second over time period, the down was moved up to essentially the two yard line….but both teams failed to score. The ref told us that starting with the third overtime, each team would get one play from the two yard line. However, out of nowhere, the recreation department supervisor came over (looking very much like a skinny version of your favorite’s sports commissioner with balding hair and thick glasses) and announced if the third over time ended in a tie that would be that.

And then came the real controversy.

OLPH called a run play and seemed to scamper into the end zone. But the referee called the flag down before the ball broke the plane of the goal line. Their coach became livid accusing the wrong official of making the call. The flag was obviously not in the end zone…but perhaps the ball might have come very close the breaking the plane as the play stretched his arms out. The coach continued to fight the call because the linesman continued to remain quiet.

That gave Justin and his boys one last chance. The quarterback decided to make a run for it off tackle and scored. No one could believe it….the marathon game was over and somehow sanity prevailed.

But you can imagine what happened next. The kids up past their bedtime were hard to wake up on Saturday. We got going late and kept Rita’s parents waiting. We turned on the UCLA game and ended up taking a nap. (Not a bad idea, apparently.) Woke up late Sunday, then again today.

Justin has a bye this week, and then picks it up again in two weeks.

Before heading into the mountains last week, I had been watching with great interest Ken Burns’ new documentary “The National Parks”. I didn’t grow up a Ken Burns fan…catching only pieces of his “The Civil War” in AP US History. But almost exactly two years ago I found myself in a Homestead Inn eating microwave lasagna in a new place called Alta Sonora ready to start my job. And surfing through the various options on TV (which were on a different time zone than California) I came across “The War” which was a harrowing look into the reality of World War II on various parts of American life.

“Parks” pushes a much different vein…that American history is really about the limits to property rights. And predictably, people started to throw around the “S-word”: socialism. All because as you can imagine, Burns has reverence to the parks and casts the program in a positive light. (To be fair, the man’s political leanings aren’t much different.)

But keep in mind, there’s another obvious reason Ken Burns chose to make this point talking about “Parks” and not say, railroads. (Who also played a decisively role in the West, and over property rights.) National Parks are iconic, and telegenic and make great TV. Dams, power plants, ehhh not so much.

Of course if you want to take Burns’ thesis a little further you could argue that history is driven by the allocation of risk. And that people individually and collectively if acting rationally try to minimize their exposure to risk. But even when they do of course, we’re still wrong. But such a hypothesis usually gets most people uncomfortably close to game theory and an ultra-dynamic view of human nature and society. Something that belies that idea of institutions and rights set in stone.

But that’s a topic for another day, for now I’m just glad my sense of smell is returning after this sinus infection.

In the heat of the summer, Rita’s friend Jennifer suggested that her family and ours take a trip to the mountains. More specifically, a cabin owned by a friend of Jennifer’s husband Tom. Rita, immediately smitten by the thoughts of trees, cool air, and the sounds of nature was smitten. The only catch,:Jennifer told us to plan for the first week of October when the weather would be nice, but chilly at night.

I was intrigued too, especially because the cabin was located at the very edge of the Sonoran Republic, a town that could not be mistaken for anything close to Cougar Country. As an example, the first night Rita and Jennifer asked Tom and I to run to the store. However, it being after 10pm the Safeway was closed and we were forced to make do at the Circle K. Upon checking out, I noticed the guy at the cash register had the same last name as the town. I asked him why, and he said his grandfather had settled the town years before. And that was just the first night.

At first we thought that we were just lucky that Tom’s friend had a satellite dish, but then we realized that the entire town did…if they wanted reception that is. The neighboring town’s General Store sold camouflage-colored clothing…for children. Or that to do skeet shooting we were instructed to go down the highway and turn off where it read “Primitive Road, drive at your own risk” until reaching a turn out over an arid and rolling landscape.

But the biggest irony was that it was hardly a long weekend in the woods. The town sat in a valley surrounded by pines to be sure, but the area was artificially green from irrigation sitting near the headwaters of America’s Blue Nile. Despite the high elevation (7000 ft) the neighborhood trees reminded more of Southern California than say, Minnesota. And the cabin was not carved from wood with the scent of sawdust, but a modern and comfortable mobile home style dwelling on a platform.

Each night the four adults would play cards or drinking games and the children slumbered. And when the light broke, the children would let the adults sleep in as they played outside on a street with no traffic.

Idyllic, perhaps, but the truth is that we left much of the area’s treasures to be explored. We never did manage to go hiking, fishing, or see some Indian ruins. But that’s okay, as it leaves the door open to further adventures.

And while our time in the mountain is done…my own personal bout of cabin fever isn’t. That’s right, I woke up on Sunday thinking I was just really thirsty but by this morning it was confirmed…I’m sick. A small price to pay, I suppose, for the chance to get away.

I think my Fourth Amendment rights got trampled this week, but I’m not exactly sure. Thursday night, Rita and I went shopping after dinner,  the kids staying with their dad as they normally do. Just after nine we got home and settled in for the night. Then a loud knock was hurt on the door that caused us both a lot of consternation. We opened the door to see…the police.

What was alarming wasn’t their presence but that the male officer asked if I could step outside for a minute. Of course, having watched my share of “COPS” and “Law and Order”, I didn’t like being asked to step outside without being told what for. However instead of getting out the handcuffs, the cop just explained there had been a call for some very loud screaming to the point in which the police suspected a murder. Now in Cougar Country, “murder” is this concept that sort of akin to an Elmore Leonard novel. It happens, but it’s almost never random and oozes subplots and intrigue.

The other police officer, who was female, went inside to chat with Rita for a minute. No sooner had I started some small talk with the other one, than their conversation was over and I asked when the caller reporter hearing the scream. The male officer said about half an hour ago, which we thought was probably when we were still shopping. In any case, that was that we thought.

But then, about ten minutes later…the cops returned asking if we would allow a search of our unit. Now, as you can imagine…Rita and I were pretty darn certain they wouldn’t find a body so we obliged. Only the female officer went in and…she noticed the fact that the kids room was empty. But beyond that, she walked in such a way that she obvious found nothing exciting and thanked us upon leaving.

Relieved, Rita and I tried to relax and put the whole thing behind us. It occurred to me though, that I might have reacted the wrong way. Not in the sense of being ridiculous or suspicious, but if I should have not stepped outside until I asked the police if they intended to search or arrest me. (In this case, they decided to perform a search of our place but obviously didn’t have a warrant.)

Now you might think this is some sort of academic question…that if you are innocent you have “nothing to worry about.” But I disagree because I think the innocent do, have plenty to worry about. The police are not, after all, omniscient and rely on the evidence they collect to make decisions. People can be arrested as you can imagine on suspicion alone. Moreover, any good defense attorney will tell you that the way to win is to argue the evidence itself. For, the state must prove the evidence suggests the defendant committed the alleged crime beyond any reasonable doubt.

And that is perhaps the most unusual part of the story. Recently, we have had a large number of new neighbors move into the complex. Many, we noticed, have pets or other animals. Is it possible that the new tenants simply thought they had heard shrieking when in fact it was something else? And why did they think it came from our unit which actually has a exterior wall? (We have only neighbors on one side.) What evidence were the police really looking for, and as you can imagine, would anyone really be able to tell?

Meanwhile, despite how many lawyers I know, it’s still not so obvious what is the proper way to engage the policeman at your door who won’t tell you why they are there at first. Not because I really care about last Thursday, but because there’s always a chance next time the lawmen won’t agree with us and go home.

A momentous occasion happened this weekend, one destined for the history books. Rita finally agreed to get the sports tier on cable. Yes, I know, it may seem insignificant to you but as things go, this was a truly epic change.

Nursing a bad hangover, Rita still was sleeping on Saturday when USC at Washington kicked off. However, I didn’t get to see the game because it was blacked out on local television and cable. (For some really odd reason, ABC/ESPN elected to show Nebraska at Virginia Tech instead.)

Instead, I had to break it to her after the fact that U-Dub had basically held court on USC all game, and then in the final minutes chipped in a field goal to win it. She thought I was joking…since Washington was 0-12 in 2008. But you know, the school did hire USC old offensive coordinator as head coach and then he turned around and lured Nick Holt, the defensive coordinator for the Trojans to Seattle….

But I digress.

I then had to break it to Rita that Kansas State at UCLA was also blacked out locally, but available on the sports tier channel Fox College Sports Central. (As far as I know, there was no way to see USC/Washington). She asked if we could order the service right then and there…but I had to explain…you need to actually pick up the box to do that and the cable company offices were in fact, closed. So as a compromise we went out to dinner at the Fox Sports Grille and watched UCLA take the bulldozer to the Wildcats.

As you can imagine, the bill wasn’t ridiculous, but it was more than the monthly cost of the subscription. In fact, it was almost the same as the cost of adding the digital cable receiver, a DVR box rental, and the sports tier for the whole month. Rita sheepishly replied after we left that maybe it was cheaper just to get the sports package after all.

Of course, UCLA has a bye next weekend, so it’s not the most pressing concern. But it' is always good when a domestic dispute has a positive resolution, no?

Lately, I have needed to check TV Guide’s website more often to see when various football games start. That led me to look at the fall TV line-up because…ironically I don’t watch much broadcast television anymore outside of sports or PBS. At first, I felt almost guilty because it makes me so culturally illiterate to ignore what’s on prime time TV. But upon closer inspection I realized that I have been vindicated. There’s not much on these days, except for a handful of franchise shows like CSI, and reality programming.

The odd parallel is that I was living in Los Angeles at the time of the actors’ strike years ago, and I can tell you unfortunately it’s all related. In fact, the strike hastened the use of reality TV because actors were not available…but as market share declined…became cheaper as well.

But this isn’t what drives me nuts. Oh no. It’s that cable has become a farm system for the major networks. Now that ABC, CBS, and NBC, Fox own over half the cable channels themselves there’s really nothing good there either. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I find stuff I like but….

Again, you might think that this is a good thing….a sign of moral and cultural victory that I watch less and less TV. But the truth is, I’d argue the same problem has affected all media, be it radio, music, or books. Art after all, is merely the history of culture. And to that end, it is perhaps culture that is in the greatest decline.

Not high culture, not low culture, not ethnic culture, not religious culture. No, television and other media convinces me that humans are losing the ability to communicate and connect with one another. Not because of the impact of something menacing like say, the Internet or the “lack of morals”. No it’s something far weirder something more having to do with media being owned by few entities and Wal-Mart only stocking a handful of books. It’s the commoditization of art. It’s about constantly reaching to old ideas or sequels to create new art instead of developing fresh content.

The situation is far from hopeless though. I suspect something shall fill this void. And it seems likely to be correlate to whatever dynastic changes occur as the Baby Boomers fade away and leave their children in charge. For now though, I find myself spending ever longer and the bookstore, online, or watching TV and finding less and less.

Imagine my shock last night, when after cleaning up the abode for a couple hours to see “Meet the Press” tackle the subject of unemployment. More specifically, they cited an article in that artifact of a bygone era, “Time” magazine.

David Gregory seemed almost to delight in reading the following quote before addressing the panel:

America now faces the direst employment landscape since the Depression. It's troubling not simply for its sheer scale but also because the labor market, shaped by globalization and technology and financial meltdown, may be fundamentally different from anything we've seen before. And if the result is that we're stuck with persistent 9%-to-11% unemployment for a while — a range whose mathematical congruence with that other 9/11 is impossible to miss — we may be looking at a problem that will define the first term of Barack Obama's presidency the way the original 9/11 defined George W. Bush's. Like that 9/11, this one demands a careful refiguring of some of the most basic tenets of national policy. And just as the shock of Sept. 11 prompted long-overdue (and still not cemented) reforms in intelligence and defense, the jobs crisis will force us to examine a climate that has been deteriorating for years. The total number of nonfarm jobs in the U.S. economy is about the same now — roughly 131 million — as it was in 1999. And the Federal Reserve is predicting moderate growth at best. That means more than a decade without real employment expansion. [link}

Anyone who has read my blog knows that more than once, I predicted that unemployment would continue to rise not because of some inner nihilistic streak…but because the unemployment rate turns on those LOOKING for work not those who NEED it or who are, as they say UNDER-employed. Plenty of people ready to retire two years now find themselves having to curtail those plans and that’s a major contributor to the rate. (Indeed, I wouldn’t be surprised as I’ve said if we get to 15-20% unemployment sometime this decade not because the economy collapses but because suddenly work, not investing, becomes the only way to support oneself again.)

More revealing, I thought, was this excerpt from later on:

If you look at the three great job busts of the past 100 years — the 1930s, the early 1980s and today — you find an important difference. The Reagan recession ended with workers returning to jobs that were the same as or similar to the ones they had lost. But 1930s joblessness was structural. The jobs people lost — largely in agriculture — never came back. Workers had to move to the industrial sector, a transition helped by the demands of a war.

What struck me the most about this statement was its simplicity. That what really happened in 1983 was that out of work people simply went back to work as if nothing ever happened…while the Depression buried American agriculture alive like a dust storm on the Plains. But as you might know, it was the recession of the early 80s that began the slow, grinding decline of the Rust Belt. And while John Steinbeck was not around to chronicle workers’ plight and ensuring relocation to the Sunbelt…it happened nonetheless.

And this is why the piece suggests that people were able to go back to the same line of employment as before. Because just as the Rust Belt exodus began, so did the Sun Belt Renaissance start. It is no coincidence that foreign car companies opened factories not in the union strongholds of Michigan, Ohio, and Pennsylvania but in places like Tennessee, Mississippi, and South Carolina. So this swap, if you will was actually a net loss….if only because the absence of unions and a lower cost of living allowed Nissan, Toyota, and BMW to pay their workers less.

Thus with the manufacturing base slowly in decline…you can imagine that many workers felt their only option was the service sector. But as big box stores crushed their competition using economies of scale, and educational costs increased faster than inflation choices continued to evaporate. That is, until the 401k made everyone believe they too could be rich someday and the leave the work to someone else.

The panel on “Meet the Press”, however, was quick to point out that if the economy was going through a structural change, new industries would be necessary to replace old ones. And that aside from “green jobs”, the President had done little to flesh this out.

Of course, new opportunities exist. The real question is how long will America grapple with this transition and just how influential we will be on the world stage when it is complete. My own suspicion is that it will take much longer than we would like and will cost us dearly, but not everything.

Despite what you might think, it’s been fairly quiet ‘round these parts. In fact, the big development last weekend was…the mosquitoes. It’s been awful dry this summer in Alta Sonora leading me to think nothing of being outside in just flip flops at a pool party this weekend. It might have helped if I actually had gone into the pool…but Justin really wanted to toss a football around. Soon, I was referring a touch football game between a handful of kids.

Upon getting home, I began to feel that predictable itch. But I have to say, I didn’t think it was so bad. That is until I woke up in the middle of the night. I first tried to rub my ankles against the mattress. Then I used my toenails to scratch. And before it was over, after two hours of torment, I washed my feet to reduce the dryness.

Of course, this occurred despite using anti-itch cream. As you can imagine, it’s difficult to apply that stuff at work while wearing dress socks and slacks.

Today, however, was better. And I expect things to improve unless Mr. Staph decides to drop in for a visit. (Note, it doesn’t “look” infected.)

Dedicated readers of my blog will remember that just about this time last year…I also provided plenty of nourishment for the local mosquito horde after lingering in the twilight at the pool.

Some things never change, I guess.

Last weekend, there was finally time to do a lot of stuff I had been putting off: oil change for car, haircut for me, marching the kids to the library…and oh yeah a teeth cleaning at a dentist Rita referred me to. As you can imagine, these type of errands are hardly carefree…all it takes is one bad look from the mechanic, hair stylist, or dentist and you can be reaching for your wallet. However, as luck would have it, I finished the oil change and haircut before lunch and without incident. No major repairs, no hair loss. I told the kids I would be back after a one hour teeth cleaning.

I never made it. It was dinner time before I came home and the news wasn’t good. No, I didn’t have some awful disease…I had something completely reversible—for a price. The last time I had dental insurance (think 2002)…I didn’t have any cavities. As a result I had my wisdom teeth removed (to be safe) and paid about $2000 for the general anesthesia and a co-pay for each tooth. And then for years on end…I had no insurance and never had much pain or discomfort.

Although I’ve had dental insurance for the past two years, I didn’t realize at first how important my choice of plan was. So for that reason I continued to delay my visit until I learned that as a dental PPO patient, I had limits on coverage per year. Hence I went last weekend….about one month before my coverage turned over.

The visit began with dental X-rays. They proved to be a major chore because of the small size of my mouth. The assistant and hygienist had a hell of time trying to fit the blocky probe (because you see they now use digital imaging) into my mouth. And then, afterwards she began to clean. She found enough gum separation to suggest a “deep cleaning” (which cost money as you might imagine). So I told her to wait and see what the dentist himself found.

They had already locked the door to the office for the day by the time he arrived. A younger guy, he also happened to be a UCLA alum and had done his grad work at USC. (Amazing I tell you.) He started his diagnosis with an interesting question: “Did you ever wear braces?” (I thought he was impressed on how straight my teeth were…as some people are.) Instead he remarked that I had a form of decalcification that was common among people with braces. Or soda drinkers…. (That’s not me…never.)

In any case, he basically decided that I had several cavities near the gum line. In many cases that would require crowns. That didn’t sound too bad…until he said it would require 6-8 visits over hour half a day in the chair. Now I’ve had tons of dental work done thanks to my parents and their idea that raisins make a great snack….but I haven’t done a 6-8 hour marathon. Hell, the wisdom teeth extraction took maybe 3 hours.

But then afterwards I told the dentist that it sounded like this could be about “five figures”. He disagreed with that gut reaction and waited to see what the office manager would do after running my insurance. Sure as anything, she noticed that the total amount of work recommended would require a patient co pay of around $10,000. This is because my benefits max out at $2000 a year. I told her that I would try and schedule the work as soon as I could…but that the dentist’s position that I should get it all done as soon as possible was likely wishful thinking.

Especially after I brought the estimate home to Rita. :)

You might think however, that my dental insurance is not particularly good. However the office manager was quick to point out: “You have really good insurance.”

I’m sure I do….But I don’t know what you are supposed to do to defray costs like that. Especially because if you noticed….the “health care debate” hasn’t mentioned dentistry at all. And that’s a shame…mostly because if there’s one part of your body that is disproportionately impacted by diet it’s your mouth. And if there’s one thing that has caused health care costs to rise in the past few years…it’s diet…spurred by the proliferation of corn syrup.

But hey, it could have been worse. At least my car doesn’t need a new transmission or anything….

Of the scintillating developments in the past week, I am afraid only one probably would raise your eyebrow. Namely, I have moved into my third office in three years working in the Crunk Factory. I decided to go for many reasons, not the least of which is the furniture that the old occupant (who moved to an even bigger office) left behind. It included some nice bookcases and a horizontal file cabinet. That and a nice desk set that matches the former.

Soon after moving in though, I noticed the most arresting thing was how easily the my coworker’s layout availed itself to really cool decorations and designs. This is a telegenic place, I realized. So now I’m off…to decorate my office in a way that I heretofore had never really taken the effort to.

I have lots of great ideas, but we will see if they pan out. Don’t be surprised of course, to see photos in the near future.

But I also moved because I was tired of having a messy office and wanted a reason to clean it all out and start over. It was just….time. Any designs suggestions, meanwhile, are appreciated.

So much for any hope of a moral victory against my landlord.

Without much warning, I found myself in the leasing office at Rita’s apartment this week. The reason? Her management company requires tenants to have renter’s insurance. Not that Rita didn’t have a policy, it’s that only she and I were on it when she renewed this month. The leasing office, eager to fix this, told us I would have to be added to the lease immediately. Naturally, I planned to do after giving back my keys at the other place at the start of October. So I didn’t think there would be much heartburn in accelerating the date and being on two leases at once if only for about six weeks.

But, as you can imagine, since this made it into the blog….we are hardly at the end of the story….

Rita filed out a renter’s application for me and proceeded to drive to work so I could sign it and have her take it back to the office. I then went to lunch with Duane who was archetypically skeptical. “Now they have you over a barrel…” he said.

Rita then called me to say my application was pending, but that she would inform me of when it was complete. Eventually, I had to call to her ask what happened, but she informed me after an hour that it was “still pending”. Finally, around 4:30pm, she phoned to say that she had “bad news”. My credit was so bad, the management company was demanding an additional security deposit (which we didn’t have) of around $600. This is because Rita and Chey (not the paragons of great credit) paid a small $200 deposit when they moved in last spring. Now, for the privilege of releasing Chey and adding me, the management company required that deposit grow to one month’s rent, hence the $600ish increase.

I immediately began to think something was fishy. Back in May, Rita and I went to another complex (which is in many respects nicer than her current one) owned by the same company. They waived the application fee and let us apply right then. So I did, and I was approved with NO SECURITY DEPOSIT. I told the lady this was interesting, but welcome: I had paid a one month deposit at my current address.

Sitting in my office, I wasn’t satisfied with Rita’s explanation that “….Face it….your credit sucks, man!”. I immediately began to think if they had some sort of punitive policy because it was an existing lease and not a new one. (The management company is publicly traded…so they must be concerned about yield somehow.) The leasing agent denied it.

I wondered if my rental history was to blame, given that I did have to pay a month’s rent at the last place. (And hence they might assume I’m a sucker.) But this was denied too.

The leasing agent then made some off hand comment about the formula changing or something like that…and I instantly said….”Oh I get it…they must have used FICO 08”.

What’s FICO 08, you ask? Well if you have taken out a large amount of credit you are probably familiar with FICO. It’s an algorithm that estimates your credit worthiness and creates a “score”. It’s not your credit report, instead FICO is a formula that rates certain parts of your credit history more important than others. But the other key point is that FICO is proprietary; major rating agencies like TransUnion, Experian, etc. have to pay to use because it’s so “effective”.  As a result those agencies then have to charge third parties like banks and the leasing office access to the data. Now this is important because as you can imagine, the more often you run a credit report…the more often the agency and FICO get paid….

FICO, by the way,  is actually short for the Fair Isaac Corporation. This is because the original two guys who dreamed up the idea had the surnames “Fair” and “Isaac”,  not because it was created by someone who was fair or is otherwise balanced.

Soon after I invoked FICO 08 at the leasing office, Rita was quick to point out,” Why would they roll it out during a recession? Oh man….”

The answer is that Fair Isaac Corporation was under pressure from banks. You know, those same banks that for years had been using FICO scores to scrye the creditworthiness of homebuyers eager to join the housing bubble. And as you can imagine, those same banks now want nothing to do with the very same group of people.

Of course, it is true that during my San Diego vacation, I continually had to push back paying my utilities to get through the trip. (Don’t go there.) But I wasn’t late on my rent, and at the time I was already months behind on my student loans. So it’s hard to see how the electric company, cable company, and my cell phone could have stuck it to me that bad over the course of a month….

But now you ask, why exactly is my credit score so crappy in the first place, given that I’ve had a job for a while now and pay nearly all my bills except for student loans on time? Well the visceral answer from the bank is that I haven’t settled up all my debts from when I was out of work a few years ago. (I still get collection notices on that one.) The other reason, though is a big more, um empirical.

Think of a casino. Ask yourself, who does the casino really want in there? First, they don’t want good gamblers. So if you have taken lots of credit risks, your score goes down. Second they don’t want people without money to spend. So if you have a “short payment history” the credit agencies and banks don’t want you either. But if you have a lot of money, and you aren’t particular good about gambling with it…well the casino wants you and will offer lots to get it. But then, when you run out, the casino throws you out.

Enter me. After piling up a mortgage-sized amount of student debt the credit agencies don’t want me anymore. Not because of the loans themselves, but because they can’t be discharged in bankruptcy and reduce the likelihood that I will spend big on a car or a house. And what do I have to do to get better credit? Pay off the debt and appear vulnerable to a good deal.

But the joke is sort of them….this whole experience at the bottom of the credit ladder has made me less and less excited about debt and more and more against financing stuff. It might be unavoidable for cars and houses, but the only thing I miss about not having a credit card is….the free airline miles.