License to What?

“I needed some electrical work done,” a local homeowner told me the other day. “These licensed electricians come into your house, charge through the roof, and some of them don’t look smart enough to flip the light switch.”

States license a huge number of so-called professionals. In addition to doctors and engineers, we find beauticians, lawyers, drug and alcohol counselors, insurance and real estate agents, plumbers, electricians, and well drillers. There are also polygraph examiners, athletic trainers, interior designers, “specialist assistants,” and masseuses.

Assuring that your doc has at least heard of the Physician’s Desk reference strikes me as a fine idea. And it is quite worthwhile to check if the person who designs your next highway bridge has maybe googled deflection formulae at one time or another.

“Yow! You can make some serious money as an electrician,” the homeowner said.

Somebody sure can.

The State of Washington has its list of 410 or so licenses online here: dol.wa.gov/listoflicenses.html. 177 of them are handled by the “Department of Licensing.”

I can’t think up 400 categories of licenses and I’m really really good at making lists. I have to wonder how much of the licensing is about public safety and how much is about raising revenue.

Old Blue _Jacket_, People

Couple of links you may have already seen:

oldbluewebdesigns.com/sampleprojects.htm
patriotfiles.org

“Old Blue Web Designs” is a career Navy guy who retired to Las Vegas and got bored. He dabbled in some full-time and part-time jobs in airport security, the gaming industry, and the retail industry (Wal-Mart Sporting Goods Dept). The he tried his first government job (working for the Nevada DMV) and now knows where the Peter Principle was invented.

His sites are an ad for his services. Fun, too.

My neighbor in Florida forwarded the “Back to the 60s” that led me to the rest of the OBJ stuff.

objflicks.com/TakeMeBackToTheSixties.htm

More movies here: objflicks.com

Enjoy.

Big Thoughts, Part I

I had a (lower case) epiphany.

This is neither the user friendly GNOME web browser nor the Christian feast. It is not a revelatory manifestation of a divine being. It is, however, a sudden intuitive realization that gave me a little flash of political reality.

I’ve been reading Maslow today because I’ve been thinking Big Thoughts. The readings reminded me that our political candidates always, always, always promise to provide health and well-being to every living American; to secure our borders and stamp out crime; to bring the Financial markets back under control when they are not or boost them even more when they are; and to improve the safety net we expect from our gummint against illness and accidents and the impact of hurricanes. The promissory order depends on their polls.

We are affluent and relatively safe. Most of our physiological and safety needs are met. So why would a political candidate promise us this stuff?

  • It is safe to promise what we mostly have
  • They figure to motivate us to choose them because they can scare us into thinking we aren’t fed and housed and safe.
  • They aren’t smart enough to promise what we really want.

What do we really want? Really?

I already have a chicken in my pot. In fact I have more than one. The army got it right; I want to “be the best that I can be.”

John F. Kennedy didn’t electrify two generations of Americans because he delivered universal health care. After all, he promised the Moon but didn’t actually accomplish much here on Earth. He electrified two generations of Americans because he showed us Camelot.

Can John McCain deliver that passion? Can Barack Obama?

If that wasn’t clear enough, my friend Bob reminds me that the election year question I asked is this: what do we voters really want? What new goal will captivate two generations or three? Have we settled for smaller and fancier widgets and lost our passion for inventioneering on a grand scale?

We make grand choices when we have great passion.

And vice versa.

Sit Next to Me

Alice Roosevelt Longworth embroidered on her sofa pillow, “If you haven’t got anything nice to say about anybody, come sit next to me.” Gossip is the chief currency in news and in “news” magazines, so that may now be the majority motto.

Loving gossip isn’t new. Alice Roosevelt became an idol to Progressive Era women around the world, Carl Anthony wrote, and her style of detached disdain is celebrated today.

Two of my acquaintances are worlds apart in that attitude. One whom I’ll call John because his name is John, revels in gossip and in bad news about anyone outside of his own circle of friends. Maybe even within his circle of friends. The other whom I’ll call Juan because his name isn’t, is more data driven.

Juan works for “Infonablah,” an electronics company that is a very likely takeover target. They have a couple of new products and a still-useful older product line. (This is not a Microsoft v. Yahoo story.) The WSJ has reported talks about a joint venture between the large Chinese conglomerate Batooey-dot-com and Infonablah. Juan designs interface modules for Infonablah’s consumer goods division here in Vermont.

Juan foresees Infonablah stocking up on next generation goodies and letting the current customer stuff go to the “low cost” manufacturing centers Batooey maintains in China and on the South Pole. He figures the Batooey engineers are thinking the same thing.

I don’t know that Batooey would give Infonablah its next gen stuff; I think it’s more likely that Infonablah will be stripped and will disappear. Their current customer stuff will definitely go to low cost centers no matter what else happens.

That said, “combining synergies” in B-speak always means more layoffs.

Here’s the heart of it. John doesn’t know Juan but his reaction to this story would be glee when he figured out that Juan’s job might be in jeopardy.

That saddens me.

We peeps spend entirely too much time reveling in the downfall of our peers.

I like gossip as much as the next guy, but Alice was wrong. My mom and hers before her were right. If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.

=============

When I wrote this piece, I used TLAs (a three letter acronym for “three letter acronym”) to stand in for the real company names. Juan then worked for DGX, a biz about to be consumed by Wall Street Greed and a Large Chinese Conglomerate (LCC). A quick Google search showed me that DGX is Quest Diagnostics and LCC is the USAirways Group. I neither recommend nor pan these securities.

The Folks You Might Meet Here

The lovely gekko lost track of all the personages who people this space so she asked them all to to write up some brief bios for me. Here (with some minor editing) is the result.

Kay Ace (not her real name) lost her job on her birthday, filed an unemployment claim, and began a new job search. Both have run out. The MegaInsuranceCo she toiled for had cut her hours to part time last year but the falling real estate market and her rising salary (and age) made her too expensive to keep around. Her now former boss was told to hire a cheaper worker in her place.

She and Sally Ripley are first cousins.

Elizabeth “Liz” Arden is an engineering manager with a long commute, a gymnast, and no relation to the cosmetics maven.

Missy and Biff Bellamy. Missy wears bling which dangles and jangles when she dips her minnows out of the bait tank. She loves to talk about fishing and motorcycles and her job on the state. Biff wears no bling, has no tattoos, and was a tool maker for a small iron foundry with contracts with General Motors. They live in North Carolina.

Retired newspaper editor Lido “Lee” Bruhl was born on another planet. A true believer in ObaMathematics (“We never made any claim to fiscal responsibility”), he continues to campaign for a single payer health care system.

Jody Beauregard, a sweet, gentle man, has worked on Tom Ripley’s garbage truck for the last decade or so. He takes off every fall to hunt and usually can put up enough meat to last him through the year. I saw him hitchhiking for the first time last year.

Fredo “Two Fingers” Caronia has no political affiliation whatsoever.

The long-married, toothsome couple, Paul and Polly Dent, have a daughter in elementary school and a boy in junior high. The Dents have several lovers between them. Paul and Polly know and approve of each other’s lovers. In fact, Paul and Evelyn McGregor are lovers. Polly and Owen McGregor likewise. Nicole Norris has fallen in love with Paul.

Paul “Buster” Door is a former North Puffin car dealer and Democratic party official.

Emily and Barny Feeler have had a kind of no worries online fling for years: proximity, immediacy, and blood tests not required. It’s fun and they could probably sustain it indefinitely — after all, they live thousands of miles apart. They get to play with words, play with ideas, and even play at sex. The new age way of touching someone without ever touching. No sex

I can’’t speak for the Left so I often ask my friend Enola “Fanny” Guay to feed me the most important concepts in her ideological world. I’’ve known Ms. Guay for nearly 50 years. I can say that not because I’’m far enough away to drop the age word safely but because she is proud of her experiential learning. She was a second generation member of Helen and Scott Nearing’s back-to-the-land movement in Vermont. The Nearings bought an old farm house and built a simple, self-sufficient lifestyle here, far from big government and rampant consumerism. Their descendants are now the power brokers and consumers of Montpelier. She is always very earnest in her comments.

Henryk “Henk” Kowalski is a Polish plumber from up nawth. He moved to Florida and was a fishing guide with a bait shop until he retired a couple of years ago. He knows pretty much everyone in the Middle Keys. He rides a Kawasaki.

Brockley Mann is the chief of the South Puffin Police Department.

Evelyn and Owen McGregor have a couple of college age girls (Vickie, the elder, and Toni, the younger) and a pre-school granddaughter plus Ramona, a daughter in her 20s from Evelyn’s first marriage. Paul Dent and Evelyn are lovers. Polly Dent and Owen likewise. Owen vacations each year with Cece, a lovely SCUBA instructor who lives here in the Keys. Nicole Norris came into the group as Evelyn’s other lover

Nicole Norris was never married to Chuck. She’s a lawyer who brings a lot of work home with her.

Nuclear engineer Tom “Parle-vous” Parlett worked (note the past tense) for one of the few remaining Fortune 500 manufacturers of power plants.

Sarah and Ralph Pother. After 25 years of monogamous marriage, Ralph announced that he is polyamorous and Sarah disagrees.

Ashley Proctor is a forever twenty-something social engineer with an MSW in Madison, Wisconsin. She had worked as a Community Education Specialist at Wisconsin Community Services in a taxpayer-funded position until the Scott Walker cuts closed the $3.5 billion budget gap, slashed aid to public schools, local governments and community groups, and eliminated 1,200 state jobs.

Tom Ripley bought the garbage route from our former garbage man. Up in North Puffin, garbage collection is private enterprise; we all contract with one of the haulers who has a route in our area. I like Tom. He’s friendly, always on time, and comes right up on the porch to pick up the trash cans. He even (usually) latches the storm door when he puts the cans back. He owns a couple of used garbage trucks that he bought at the state auction and usually has a couple-three pickups that he runs around his route every Sunday before church.

Sally Ripley (Tom’s wife) is a banker in North Puffin.

Dean “Dino” Russell is a roofer in the middle Keys. Dancing about on roofs all his life has made him the most physically fit man in the Home Depot; it also gives him an overview of life. He is the third-most conservative man I know.

My friend Rufus Oscarson entered this world discussing “balanced” reporting. I call him “Rufus” because I discovered I know too many people named Bob, Lee, and Lee-Bob.

Many of Rufus’ friends work in the nuclear or chemical industry. They often gather for a wake-me-up before work at a famous non-gourmet restaurant chain so they have earned the name, “Mickey D’s Coffee Club.”

Ron Spiner is an earnest, humorless, data proffering liberal whose data is often abridged or just plain wrong.

Fred and Gwen Strong, Bonnie Lockwood and Carol Jones: Fred and Gwen have been married for a couple of decades. Fred and Bonnie spend every Saturday morning together at the library; Fred and Carol spend alternate Thursday evenings at the Comfort Inn when Fred is supposed to be bowling. Gwen knows about Bonnie but not about Carol.

Don “Swampy” Swamtek is another nuclear engineer with one of the few remaining Fortune 500 manufacturers. He spends his days not blowing up chemical plants around the world and his nights star gazing. He is the fourth-most conservative man I know.