It was the Best of Times, It was the Worst of Times

I know, I know. I've quasi-abandoned this here blog. The level of business has been at a record high and I've been forced to make some radical cuts to my daily tasks. However, the end to the madness is in sight and I will return to my normal routine. Yessss...

However, even in the midst of this hectic schedule of mine, a day like today seemed like the day of all days for a little bit of blogging.

You know, for the last few months, I've been remembering stories too often told by one of my favorite English professors in college, one Dr. David Gaines. He taught the lone course on Bob Dylan and looked not unlike the Mad Scientist from Back to the Future. Uh-huh, he was quite a sight.

Dr. Gaines, God bless him, has been an undergraduate student at Stanford during the tumultuous 60s and would give us accounts of anti-war protests and Black Panther rallies on campus. "They were strange times," he'd say. "Strange times."

I'll confess, I often felt a twinge of jealousy that he'd lived during such a historic, colorful, and 'strange' time. I wished I could have experienced it myself.

I got my wish.

These certainly are strange times, and I'm sure somewhere (specifically Georgetown, TX), Dr. Gaines is saying those same words to a Contemporary American Literature class. And I find that I am painfully aware of it. Be careful what you wish for.

This time in American history will be written about in history books and discussed in classrooms. Wars are being fought. There are planets and economies to save. Worst of all, our country is divided. Obamians versus McCainians. Republicans versus Democrats. Conservatives versus liberals. In the last year, I've been pitted against my family, my friends, my co-workers. Needless to say, it's been hard on us all. You might say that our nation is wounded.

Today as I walked into the voting booth, I'll be honest, I really did not know who I was going to vote for. Uh-huh, I was one of those dreaded 'undecideds'. There is so much at stake and so many unknowns that I was mentally and emotionally paralyzed. I'd studied the policies and positions. I'd done my research. In the end, it came down to a gut decision. Scary, I know.

The candidate I chose did not win tonight. But even if he had, I know I would be asking myself the very same questions, "Is he the man that he professes to be? Will he be true to his word? Will he maintain the pillars of this country that we love?"

That remains to be seen. We can only hope. In the meantime, I will continue to hold a picture of a better America. One of unity, tolerance, and faith.

Photo courtesy of www.mensvogue.com.

Panic Attacks and Media Shenanigans

So far, I've done alright in the grown-up department. I've done the job thing, the married thing, the mortgage thing. But I tell you what, I hate paying bills. Hate. I hate it so much that I've been known to, well, not do it, Office Space style. I just 'forget'. Luckily, the hubster is more grown-up than myself and picks up the slack. It's a trade off: he hates doing dishes so guess what that means...

It's a little strange that I have such an aversion--both mental and intellectual aversions--to all things financial. I'm not kidding: finance related data approaches the folds of my brain and quickly flees. Yes, scientific information apparently does the same. Somewhere, I am missing a chromosome because both--count them, BOTH--of my parents are in finance! Mom--accountant. Dad--Financial Planner. How they stay sane I do not know.

So growing up with a stock broker/CFP father renders a young lady a little immune to the shrieks of the media every time the market takes a little dip. But I have to admit, when I learned that Merrill Lynch, the very firm with which my father is employed, was to be sold, and that banks and firms were literally dropping like flies, I grew a little concerned. And then when MSN.com and Wall Street Journal started using words like 'crisis' and 'depression' and 'meltdown', it was clearly time to put a phone call in to Dad.

As is to be expected, dear old Dad was relatively unconcerned. No Kate, people aren't going to be wheeling their cash around in shopping carts. No, I'm not going to lose my job. Mostly, he reminded me, yet again, that it's less about how many points are lost and more about a percentage loss. "Five hundred points in a day means nothing. Twenty five percent in a day, that's something," says Dad, financier extraordinaire.

It was a little Twilight Zone-ish because he said that the market's probably declining because everyone wants to sell just in case Obama gets elected and doubles the capital gains tax, as he's promised. (Dad is still without power/TV/internet courtesy of Hurricane Ike). I turn on 'Mad Money' or some other bogus show and BAM! That's exactly what they said. Voodoo Dad.

Of course he gave me all the other hem-haw about having a 'diversified portfolio,' whatever that means... But he also said that Merrill Lynch's merge with B of A is actually a good thing? Wha? It's highly possible that he's taken the whole 'bull' market Merrill theme a little too far.

Long story short, I'm pretty much done with the media's toying with our emotions. It just makes people act crazy--like tell all their friends to sell all their stocks and then say, "See! I KNEW it was going down!" The drama, really. No wonder this country has high blood pressure.

Is anyone else done with this media foofaraw? Ugh, this is a 'Just Say "NO!" to Media' situation. (Graph courtesy of http://www.wsj.com/).

That Time of Year Again

I love When Harry Met Sally... It's quite possibly the best movie Hollywood has ever made and Nora Ephron is my hero, no matter how bad her neck is. I love the part when Harry is discussing the youth of his new flame, Aunt Emily, that was revealed when he asked her 'where she was when 'Kennedy' was shot' and she said "Ted Kennedy was shot?!"

Well, I wasn't even a speck on the horizon when Kennedy was shot. But I do remember exactly where I was on this day, September 11, 2001.

I was in tutorial, the only one that morning, delivering an assignment to my crazy, senior economics teacher. She was a loon, folks. It was so quiet, all I could hear was the raspy rantings of that silly lady. Then the OTHER crazy economics teacher, 'Wild Bill', ran into the room screaming, "Turn on the T.V., they're bombing New York." Why are economics teachers so paranoid? She didn't even question who he meant by 'they'. It was if that had a common, cooky language.

She did, turn on the T.V. that is, and immediately let out this loud shriek and fell to pieces. Wild Bill ran on to share the news with his other colleagues. I'm not being mean, we called him Wild Bill to his face.

Then all day, in every class, we watched it all unfold. Except for AP Biology, where we took the regularly scheduled exam. Which I failed. Then that teacher hated me for the rest of the year because I wasn't on the doctor train. Words! Words, lady! That's what I do! Not cells and horny flies! Not that she would understand, she pronounced entropy with a 'ph'. Whatev.

Alls I'm sayin' is that in twenty, thirty, forty years, I'll still remember that day as if it were yesterday, because it was a day on which the world changed forever, even though I didn't realize it at the time.

What about you? Where were you on September 11, 2001?

Rita, Katrina, and the Santa Maria...

In case you've been living under a rock for the last week (which I have been known to do for more than a few weeks at a time), you're aware of these two things: 1. McCain picked a woman for his Vice Presidential candidate and 2. Hurricane Gustav is about to pummel, or has already pummeled, the Gulf Coast.

I've been watching this Gustav business pretty closely, as my parents and younger sister were among the two million people stranded on the Texas road-way system about this time of year in 2005. I don't think folks realize what a 'crap shoot' that whole operation really was--basically, people couldn't evacuate if they wanted to. It took the fam fifteen hours to get to Austin, normally a four hour trip. Crazy, folks. The greatest evacuation in Texas history was a complete and utter failure. Not good.

Even though I'm grateful that the home of my childhood is gonna make it through this one, my heart breaks for New Orleans because they're getting it again. And here's the thing: the Gulf keeps getting warmer each year that we shirk our responsibility to protect the environment, which means these storms will just keep getting bigger. And bigger. And bigger. You can only dodge so many bullets. Which Gulf-coastal city will get hit next? Houston, we very well may have a problem... (BTW, check out Mimi Swartz's article "How Green is My Bayou" in Texas Monthly about Houston's efforts to go green...let's keep the trend going Houstonians!)

I'm not trying to preach, folks, it's not my nature. But Lord knows we're all guilty. But it's not about left-right, North-South, Red-Blue, it's just about taking care of this pretty little planet so we can hang out on it a few more years. What's to debate about that? I don't want to go all coffee-house on you but c'mon, guys! PARK that Hummer!

On that note, who's a little freaked about this Sarah Palin move? Tricky, McCain, tricky. I'm not sure who's scarier: Hillary or Palin. Yikes! Discuss... (Or if you're already sick of it, don't discuss. Whatev.)