Love Will Save Us (and our GDP)... A look at America's most Prized Invention...

Esquire tossed a journalist under an MRI to scan his brain, trying to figure out, scientifically– if there is such a thing as amour?

“I love thee with serotonin produced by my raphe Nuclei. I love thee with testosterone receptors deep in my hypothalamus. I love thee with dopamine that floods my primitive lizard brain.” Says A.J. Jacobs. See link below.

Dave Matthews nailed it for the umpteenth time. He has lured in radio stations and listeners with his comforting, soothing melodic sound, but with every new album arrives even “hippier” lyrics.

Funny the way it is, right or Wrong
Someone’s broken heart,
Becomes your favorite song…

While the irony is unmistakably obvious, Matthews uses his musical manse as a catalyst, challenging listeners to ponder the trenches of our consumer-hungry hearts, eventually breaking down, having a come-to-Jesus, Boulder/Agnostic style. And that is supposed to solve our problems.

But it wasn’t his husky voice that commanded the cult more than a decade ago – it was his distinct ability to have the whole world fall in love with his lyrics.

The way I used to laugh with you was loud and hard
Sweet like Candy to my soul…

Come now- he reeks of a heterosexual version of Whitman - and several half-paragraphs later you wonder what direction is this rambling taking you?

What percentage of our day is haunted by variations, revelations, advice columns, colognes, books, films, movies and therapists all dedicated to making this paramount part of your life livable. And it doesn’t come cheap. Whether you’re single, married, divorced, or independently independent, you can relate to melancholy lyrics, flirty flicks with zero resemblance to reality, and get lost in blogs contemplating which gender is to blame. And what do I think? Well as a capitalist, I say “go you,” as a single woman I say, “let’s get on with it.”

Americans have idealized this notion that this chemical reaction will trip across you at Starbucks, or at the grocery store and there won’t be a thing you can do to stop it.

“It”, being this utopian umbrella that protects all problems, which consequently has been the cause for most of them as well. Wouldn't arranged marriage alleviate all that pressure to constantly make someone else feel obsessed with? And yet, as hundreds of cultures in the last several centuries couldn’t give an iota of energy to this profound invisible existence, it seems to drive, shove, direct American consumerism. But is it love, or lust for something that doesn’t really exist. Is it a deep sentimental recognition of another soul?

Is it simply an attachment to someone who will bear witness to your life?

The best part: There is such an oxymoron. We FLOURISH in the idea that LOVE is out of our control - leave it up to fate, the big guy upstairs - chemistry? But then once we have it, or when we've decided to look for it - we rush out to buy, analyze or redo - to somehow let love manifest itself? So... America and our chick flicks, our self-help books, and our sappy love sagas have indeed entertained the world, while I'm not sure if we've convinced the rest of the world that "amour" is within our reach - it's certainly helped our gdp (how many international tours has Justin Timberlake done, or books Danielle Steel has sold?) Here is a toast to inventing the unstoppable, unpenetratable addiction to amour.

http://www.esquire.com/features/mri-of-love-0609

The Fodder Factor - Where did all the $$$ go?

Benefits don’t include just dental hygiene anymore… But also include massage therapy, mental therapy, and my favorite are the obese people who insist that they're deserving of hundreds of millions of dollars… Just the humdrum handouts unions have increasingly enforced since FDR.

The following items aren’t even perks, rather prime examples of what benefits are in the modern-professional-post-collegiate-yet-sucking-economy collapse, where popularity is a virtue and hard work is a thing of the past, tossed aside with grammar and morals. Note: I get a bit creative with punctuation.

Happy Hours/Steak Dinners/Strip Clubs are regularly expensed on corporate credit (as if corporate credit was a tangible thing). Clothing/Starbucks/aesthetically-enhancing surgery allowances have stretched outside Hollywood hospitals and have been entrenched and consequently embraced in Wall Street cubicles. Which actually has helped the East Coast rid of the stereotype of females- aka: pale and nerdish image…

Not all of this is bad… such consumer-driven services such as laser hair removal and custom-tailed Armani suits for the twenty-something banker, whose only contact to the outside world is by telephone and food delivery guy (Note: Typical entry level bankers eat, sleep, breathe and do all other normal human activities you can imagine within the confines of their given bank. Aka: Goldman Sachs, Merrill Lynch, Citigroup, oh wait, are those the only ones left?). These additional (minor) purchases have indeed given this pitiful American economy a little burst of hope - that maybe America’s future spenders aren’t as shallow as they’ve proven in quarterly-earnings-past… but a wee-bit smarter. Instead of spending their own not-yet-earned income with unlimited credit, throw it to the company, or even better yet, their customers!

I did a bit of math and funny/interesting/sadly a person’s income isn’t related to how hard you toil. Again, ANY ALTRUISTIC DEMOCRAT WILL TELL YOU THAT…. But let’s define hard before moving onward with my ramblings. A stressful combo of sweat, brainpower, smiling, IQ deficit and then spiced with some psychological abuse would be the ultimate equation for determining how brutal your battle is up the career ladder. Once vertical back in the glass ceiling days, the original ladder’s design has taken a paradoxical shift and now accepted as horizontally-challenged. The new ladder can be climbed by ego-driven brains. The only exit strategy that doesn’t require buying more companies, being bought out by the public (or government), painfully pretend merges, or being sued and dragged off to jail, is the coveted “golden parachute”… which forgive me, might be the dumbest metaphor to begin with... Gold is heavy, weighty and a parachute is supposed to be so light you softly land. Harvard Business Review should have rummaged up an idiom that made logical sense, like a “net of trust” or something catchy.

Before I close this randomness I ask you to consider two things:
1. I’m not a socialist… merely an observer of how the invisible hand has assigned a monetary value to each of us.
2. If you’re worried about losing your job in this economy I have a feeling Vegas will never go out of business…

"IN TREES WE TRUST"

China owns 24% of America's liabilities.

China has a billion more people than America.

Do the math, it ain't pretty.

Just finished an article in TIME. And while the writer characterizes FDR with astounding applause, he fails to mention the horrific acceptance of the deficit, which yes dates back to 1700, but grew significantly with the inception of " The New Deal."

Pondering the deficit, while from a financial standpoint (and those who know how to balance a checkbook, or god forbid understand a balance sheet), its implications are frightening, yet even to us aren’t close to debilitating… as far as “Joe” knows the government is visibly handing out “invisible” money, and who cares where it’s coming from? Or did Obama lose all sense of “where”… just because paper comes from trees, doesn’t mean the trees will back our spending. I think Obama is trying to make "inflation" popular... inflation, a cousin to the word "infection"....

In a society where “citizens” cannot take responsibility for their own actions, spending dollars they don’t have (and aren’t projected to make), on credit they cannot fairly be accounted for? Our only options are threatening to post a link to bank statements on people’s facebook profiles? Along with “photos, hobbies, quotes are also a lovely links to credit scores." And if that somehow goes against our “private rights”, then we might be abandoned with our favorite/most-disturbing theorist... (see below). And, while the “war of terror” didn’t frighten the most retarded of liberal pundits, I hate to say it, but a war against our kids and their piggybanks should scare the hell out of all of us...

*** The personal “Auna” solution would be highlight the “fun” in investments… this is where my great belief that while mutual funds are titillating (kidding)... Seriously, our banks should have VC booths set up ... Some of our money could be allocated to investing in other people? Sort of like Wall Street minus SEC on a smaller scale?

Why does that sound familiar? I’m thinking Sweden?

An excerpt taken from the FDR TIMES article (our of context it might not make sense), but Obama needs to answer how we’ll stimulate the economy while being the consumer-hungry economy we are…

“Next came tax. Instead of reversing Hoover’s tax-hike error, Roosevelt compounded it by raising taxes again and again. His treasury also cobbled together new businesses taxes. The same caution that had led banks to accumulate reserves during the worst of the downturn had moved corporations to put aside extra cash instead of using it to expand. Roosevelt, angered that firms were not spending to stimulate the economy, retaliated with an undistributed-profits tax on top of ordinary corporate taxes. Taken aback, observers accused him of ‘breaking the nest egg’.”


Revisiting our dear friend (and foe) ethos, I’m curious how to sculpt an argument, which will address not only what the deficit will do to our children, but somehow quantify through tangible scenarios. Is that even possible? Not what the deficit going to do to our kids, or grandchildren… and not from their checkbooks, or student loans, but how exactly that affects us through examples that can be easily understood, not by numbers, but the honest repercussions of losing our country to ourselves.

Here is how I envision a metaphor… A tennis match. We’re at the US Open and we’re the predicted champions, year after year we take home the gold. But instead of practicing our serve, it is far more exhilarating to find practice partners (Mexico/Canada). Killing opponents with our overheads, backhands, and volleys, (Iraq), but through whatever means we can justify (tanks, bombs, first-aid to Africa), we refuse to practice our serve (self-awareness/responsibility). And at the end, we lose the match.

Too many defaults later- we’ve run out of second chances, and we’ve run out of ways to win.

While we aren’t afraid to dip into international political, ideological, and ethical stratosphere, we’ll let them (China) eventually own our debt? Until our country files a Chapter 11. The country needs to go on a freaking diet. Rid of our adipose tissue, addiction to trash television (hell, let’s forgo porn), and habitual trips to the shopping mall.

A scenario even the shrewdest of journalists are too afraid to take seriously.

So little me is thinking… a campaign argued through numbers would be so difficult to capture attention (yes, even in Vegas (where my friend is running for Congress)), and so maybe a way to get people to pay attention to date, is illustrate the unfathomable scenarios, which leads me back to Machiavelli and the Prince. Is fear more powerful? Obama is frustrating, while inspiration is beautiful and tastes yummy, and offers the laziest of Americans warm and fuzzy feelings, pushing aside duty and responsibility, for the future to do lists… Let’s face it – and I can vouch as business development – it is wayyyy more fun to start stuff, than clean up messes.

So all this BS leads us to believe in a greater tomorrow, but sure isn’t helping us achieve that “great tomorrow,” today. Besides isn’t that Oprah’s job? Entertainers and priests, etc. Sure let’s do a check-up every once in awhile on our president, but it isn’t policy-makers beaming smiles that are going to reinvigorate the work ethic of the American spiraling into debt and despair via videogames and McDonalds.

Nope, monopoly money won’t be a national currency this time.

So there you go: Paint a pretty (sad/scary) picture of a future full of debt – and this time there isn’t an American government to bail anyone out. Sure, Japan can bail us out, or hell let’s give India a shot (they've been picking up the phone long enough), but at the end of the day would we rather save a little more, spend a little less or turn to the rest of the world for help, when for so many years we've boasted our capitalistic economy?” It isn’t so black and white. But everything eventually is black and white – when you’ve hit rock bottom. There is only one option. Seeking help, and unless the rock we’ve landed on is solid diamond, we’re screwed.


Obama isn't A Bad Guy:

Enough of my Obama bashing, I do have some respect for the guy- it appears that he has a healthy marriage. What is it with charismatic democrats (or politicians in general) cheating on their wives? Lately the media has uncovered affair after affair, governor after senator caught red-handed, in some intern/secretary/aid’s panties. Seriously, half of why I’d vote Romney is his odds cheating are nearly zip. FDR lost my respect purely for his outlandish affairs.

The only way to come out on top - isn't to cheat the system...

[Poker] exemplifies the worst aspects of capitalism that have made our country so great. ~Walter Matthau

Bluff it Baby….

Rules were created with the single objective to level the playing field. The intention being to accurately account for athleticism, smarts and civility, but how is it that everyone is assigned a distinct, inimitable handicap, before knowing by default, we’re all playing the same game.

The Unencumbered Coup…
World Series Poker No-limit Hold’em in 1978.
It’s the championship finals and Bobby Baldwin was the 23-year-old joke of a poker player, he is rivaled against the favored Crandall Addington, real estate tycoon from Texas, and also the favored victor. Addington had $275,000 chips compared to Baldwin’s measly $145,000. With a slight hesitation following a $95,000 bet was all Baldwin needed for his zero-sum bluff, he threw in the rest of his chips in – convincing Addington that he either had a flush or a straight. After tossing his cards on the table revealing a nine and a ten of hearts made Baldwin the youngest WSP champion, and making Addington the “ASS” who got played. Now, Baldwin is the President of the Bellagio Hotel is Las Vegas, among being inducted in the Poker Hall of Fame.

Oh, the yucky and annoying paradox of choice, gimme, hold, fold ‘em, to bet all or lose nothing. To not choose equates to inaction, to remain passive can be interpreted as proactive. Yes, no or why bother having an opinion, right? Or wrong? Warren Buffet believes the first rule in finance is never to lose – and the second, forget the first. So, we’re supposed to forget to win?

Not to frame our forefathers as myopic wasps, but it is true that the makeup of our country was written hundreds of years ago by philosophical nerds. Were these “marvelously elastic,” (as Roosevelt believed) free market commandments flexible enough to actually address our migration, terrorist and poverish problems? Example: AK45s had yet to be invented when Adams and Jefferson, or hell, Jesus was around.


Anomalous Upbringing
Born in a privileged family in Johannesburg, one of eight in Corsica, a Kennedy, or an autistic, each has a bizarre and unpredictable amalgamation of luck – some obviously more debilitating than others. But with only a certain combination of cards, each chip has to be gambled with cognizance, aware not of how far there is to fall, but there is always, always an opportunity to win. If you know how to convince people there could be an opportunity.

Cards alone can’t break the bank: How many rich snots have been coddled with Ivy-League education, pristine genetics and healthy and generous portions of time with confidence-boosting parents? And failed.

That said, people yes, can win with a combo of cards and smarts - just so happens you’re Bill Gates and your parents happened to donate thousands to your private school technology department, and pretty much fate is in your favor? Sure, but aside from his prerequisites, Gates was, and is a shrewd, inventive guy – locating holes in future markets, and crafting science in industries that didn’t yet, exist.

And then there are the J.K Rowlings whose imagination and scribbles consisted of a wizard and a child sporting ugly glasses – and has sold more books than any other book in the history of the world (sans the bible). And she drafted such a jewel homeless on London sidewalks. Barack Obama’s heroic feat has been an archetype for how circumstance can be overcome– and even, quotes from Helen Keller commemorate how obstacles can eventually inspire others.

Then Win....
While you might think I’ve digressed from faking it and making it, to outperforming others while bogged down with the severities and injustices some are born into, there is a reason a winning hand in poker is pure in its reflection of success. The sharpest poker players read between the lines, under the facial expressions, behind the smirks and through the fear, while still playing by the same rules.

In poker it there is no value in how savvy you’re dressed, what town you’ve been raised and what is your native tongue… The outcome isn’t a result of how people judge what you’re capable of understanding – and calculating – and achieving, the outcome is if you alone, can play your cards better than everyone else expects.

Ready, Set, SUCK IT UP

Where the hell did the love-hungry articles written by macho men in GQ go? Every issue included some heart wrenching narrative scribed by a befuddled journalist attempting to mend his sanity by disclosing his soul to the world. Around six months ago these endearing ditties stopped, not replaced by anything other than more articles celebrating the brevity and intelligence anything with a penis inherently can relate…. And so every month with great anticipation I enter the pages of GQ I’m greeted with disappointment because there is a huge hole. And as a woman reader of the fantastic tome I’m pissed. These exposes were the only proof that men found “the relationship” as confusing and tormenting and awe-inspiring as women...seem to be obsolete. GQ has abandoned me with my archived editions. My favorite read was Adam Sachs “ Divorce: The Ultimate Aphrodisiac” check it out below… A stellar book could come out of his vulnerable and brilliant string of flings he reveals to readers in his candid reflection of divorce.

Funny story about Adam: I was so pumped about our coffee appointment that I emailed my associate editor, “Oh My God I’m so excited to meet this fabulous writer.” And accidentally, haphazardly hit return- to Adam! Unanticpated fan mail, which (thank god) enticed a shared chuckle between the two of us at coffee. http://adamsachs.org/GQ-Sachs-Upside.pdf

Not a digression, but yesterday in an editorial meeting I tossed out this idea – and since no one thought it was fabulous… my blog gets the leftovers….

Below are several activities you can still enjoy during this debilitating economic epidemic.

1. Passion. Kick off the heels and throw back your hair and relish some really good (ahem) necking?
2. Run. If your wallet can’t be fat, your ass doesn’t have to.
3. Give in ways you can’t. Volunteer, become a mentor to an at-risk teen, write thank you notes to people whom you’ve ignored. Reach out to the person who would least expect to hear from you (generally an older relative)… You’ll get immediate gratification in ways (ahem) necking can’t accomplish.
4. Remember. Take stock of your life up until now. And what the hell do you want now the rest of the world sucks?
5. Invest in something insane and crazy. If you have a little bit of disposable cash – search for an opportunity, which might not make sense as a secure and responsible investment, but a company you’d LOVE to see flourish… in this economy anything could be explosive. Might post some stocks in the next several days…

Before All Else, Be Armed - Machiavelli

I wish I could find something funny about this whimpering economy. Sheltered in my make-believe American utopia where I routinely admit to relishing labels on my totes and the cost of haircuts that could feed a family for a week in Uganda, I can’t comprehend the value of a dollar in the eyes of a peso.

Summers in Brazil and discovery videos from Africa don’t penetrate my bubble of health insurance and paved roads, in which I innocuously reside.

And when a person is stripped of their job, their survival, in a messed-up way, someone’s job is how the world evaluates their worth, their contribution to society. And suddenly it’s obsolete, and then it is too late to turnaround.

Craiglist classifieds are overflowing with stellar resumes and still 50,000 Americans are wandering aimlessly around our democratic streets curious who is going to cover their mortgage. What happened to job security? Is there such a thing, and is it appropriate for such a concept to exist in a laissez-fair economy.

There is no such thing as a real promise- because who can actually predict what the future will heave at us? I love how America uses good faith as collateral… just in case government bonds go to hell. But think: In every aspect of our lives…. Marriage could end in divorce, a road trip could end in a car wreck, and botox could get boxed. Without any type of guarantee in life how the hell are we supposed to protect ourselves?

We can’t.

All we can do is try to protect each other.

Mark Cuban... the Willy Wonka of America

He is the ornery, irrational and yet delightful Willy Wonka of America. And you can’t help but admire the guy, and then chuckle. Aside from the SEC’s recent and very legitimate allegations, Cuban is in so little words, someone I'm intrigued by.

What Mark Zucker did to the Rolodex, P. Diddy did for the popular vote, and Sarah Palin did for lacrosse moms (hockey moms are still in exile) Mark Cuban has done for the dorks. He gave them a reason to be cool. Gave permission for big boys to pursue the little boy dreams once assumed collecting dust with Babe Ruth baseball cards. Instead of having a fantasy team or a Playstation he plays basketball coach/commentator/pontificator. He has taken brown-nosing to a respectable level that includes philanthropy and learning how to dance the tango.

Might sound demented but hear me out. I love football. And sometimes when I’m on the elliptical glider and I witness Jay Cutler throwing an interception I sort of make frustrated sounds toward the television and sort of frighten the women huffing on the stationary bikes. Most people would play QB but I’d rather not be responsible for making the calls and being pummeled by 800-pound angry linemen. So instead the position of running back is preferable. Catch the touchdown pass and hump the field goal like Shakira (not that Tatum Bell has ever done that…).

Cuban would make the original Samuel Maverick proud (a 19th century Texas cattleman famous for not branding his animals). Cuban’s interactive NBA purchase isn’t just metaphorical for his actions in life, but every aspect of his biography IS the iconic America story. And if he has anything to do with it, his legend will be passed through generations for millenniums to come. He is the 21st century entrepreneurial hoodlum, a less satirical version of Winston Churchill. He quotes himself as he recently did in his blog, reminding readers how he should have listened to his own insightful premonitions about the ultimate failure of overzealous hedge funds just a year ago.

If he can’t be a basketball coach, he will buy a team. If his wisecrack remarks and millions of dollars fined by the NBA irritate anyone, he’ll justify his sophomoric behavior by donating millions to charity. (Nothing criminal about that.) If Hollywood won’t make him a movie star he’ll produce movies himself. He’s altruistic too… keeping an eye out for the insatiable hunger for unrealistic entertainment the American public is recovering from. In 2006 he hired six individuals to compete for $1 million by accomplishing insane and crazy things. Instead of keeping all the amusement for his own viewing pleasure, he suggested ABC create a reality show, so we could join in the fun.

When he insults refs by yelling, “I wouldn’t hire you to manage a Dairy Queen” and then receives an official complaint by the company, he doesn’t apologize or retract his remark. He spends a day acting as an ice-cream manager, ultimately generating an additional $2 million in revenue for Dairy Queen. He is able to monetize his silliness by responding the way people would at least expect a multi-billionaire to do. It isn’t fodder it’s genius.

Maybe sadly and maybe proudly if Cuban can’t unearth his next toy, he doesn’t invent it, hire someone to find it, he instead creates an industry, no an entire marketplace for it. Last year he innovated a website www.sharesleuth.com to nail CEO’s for their ill-mannered ethics, my hypothesis is so he could make more money off their malaise, proceeding to short their stocks… it all sounded so lovely. He makes O’Reilly look like a timid pussycat with blog headings such as, “The Stock Market is for Suckers.”

Serious journalists and equity boys are still haughty toward Cuban’s unpredictable and often precocious ways. But regardless of how staunch and boring their Brooks Brothers ways might be, they cannot make the argument that Cuban isn’t a sparkling personality, a mensa in the media world, or doesn’t make large monetary contributions to the community. And while he might irk the LA Lakers, Cuban has handed America something more than High-def TV or a good laugh. Whether his playfulness is benign or a disenchanting echo from our unregulated past....

Cuban has reminded us that the only rulebook we're really restrained to, is our own.