It seems to me on many levels that the world as we know it is spinning out of control. In NH, our Republican-dominated legislature has voted to allow guns in the State House, has put forward bills that will take health education, foreign language and technology education out of the definition of an "adequate" education, has voted to take away state funding from public broadcasting, has voted to cut funding to Planned Parenthood, and put forward legislation today to repeal gay marriage. I completely disagree with all of this, and have contacted my local State Senator, but she is in a minority, and I don't have any confidence that these bills will be voted down.
Governor Lynch has put forward a budget which will take lots of money away from most all human services in this state. He also favors a constitutional amendment which will attempt to reduce state funding for education, even though he veils what it will actually do by saying that it will "allow the state to target aid" where it is needed. He spoke in glowing terms about de-institutionalizing people and returning them to their home communities. We saw this happen when they closed the state school back in the 1980s. Communities were ill-equipped to deal with the severely mentally ill folks then, and that hasn't changed. We are turning back the clock at least 25 years in many respects, mostly on the backs of the poor, the mentally ill, and women.
In the meantime, President Obama has presented a budget which will slash services to those who need them most. Aid to those who need heat will be slashed by 50%. He says that that aid was increased a few years ago when energy costs spiked. But now, prices are down. What planet is he living on? Has he seen prices at the gas pumps? Heating oil is heading to ever higher prices ($3.09 per gallon for the 147 gallons I received today) and for those who are unemployed, under-employed or just plain poor, the inability to pay for just about everything is becoming more acute.
Just what is his strategy as he tries to out-conservative the conservatives? How can he talk about cutting community block grants, "though it pains him to do it"? Why doesn't he act like a progressive for a change? I'm sure it's all political. The Republicans are already saying "He hasn't gone far enough." It's a huge cat and mouse game where he will make proposals that horrify his liberal base, only to have the Republicans try to then slash and burn even more, thus making his proposals look moderate. It all makes me sick. Let's seem some large cuts in the Pentagon's budget; let's see our troops come home; let's close some of our bases abroad. Let's adopt some of the measures suggested by the Deficit Commission and which might require all of us to sacrifice somewhat, not just the poor, the ill and the elderly.
Yesterday I called my new Republican Representative in Congress to implore him to vote against taking away funding for Planned Parenthood. I spoke to a nice young woman who dutifully took my message and even asked if I had anything else I was concerned about. I said "Yes, as a matter of fact. I would like to see him take a more moderate stance on budgetary matters, and not try to balance the budget on the backs of the poor, women, and the most vulnerable people in our society. And please, tell him not to pander to the Tea Party."
What can we do to try to rein in this slippery slide back to the 1950s? I'm feeling pretty helpless, and not a little bit hopeless at this point. We supposedly have a democracy ad given how frustrated I'm feeling, I wonder what it must be like to live in an authoritarian regime in the Middle East. At this point, I'm not sure there's a huge difference between them and us. It may be time for us to take to the streets. . . again.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
Queen for a Day
When I was a a kid, I used to love to watch the t.v. show Queen for a Day. I remember turning on the t.v. with its yellow-green screen (supposed to be better for our eyes) and then watching raptly as several housewives were asked to "tell their story" and I believe they mentioned some things that might make their lives easier. This show was the 50s version of reality tv. It was probably the start of my bleeding heart liberalism.
Looking back, I'm surprised I was allowed to watch this show (or any daytime t.v.), but in those early days of t.v., when we only got one channel, I still spent most of my afternoons outside trying to keep up with my brothers or the boy next door. I do remember being horrified by the women's stories of overwork and underappreciation, usually involving many children, not enough money and some presence of a terrible illness, etc. It was a soap opera of a sort, and I had always loved listening to those on the radio. In fact, I'm pretty sure the show was sponsored by "Joy" and "Tide," which would have featured ads with women cheerfully going about scrubbing the dishes, the floors and the family wash, dressed to the nines in a crisp white apron over a "housedress."
The point of the show was to identify the woman with the worst story. This was measured by audience clapping the loudest on the applause-o-meter. The woman who won, would usually weep and blubber as various prizes were revealed from behind closed curtains. As I recall, they won new refrigerators, or washing machines, vacuum cleaners or floor polishers. Maybe they won a trip somewhere, I'm not too sure. I always felt so happy for the winner, but wondered how the others, whose stories struck me as equally terrible, managed to go back to their terrible lives. I think I really would have liked to see my mom on the show, but I knew she couldn't possibly match stories with these women.
All of this came back to me yesterday when I went to Langdon Place to visit my mom. Beside her chair was a headband-like item covered in silver, and with a cardboard crownlike part with silver sparkling tinsel fringing the words "Happy New Year." I picked it up and asked mom if she had gone to the New Year's celebration. She said no, but took the headband from me and said "I like this," and put it on sort of like an Indian headband. I put it up on the top of her head and then offered the mirror so she could see herself.
"Oh," she said, "I like this. I want to wear it."
"Okay," I said, smiling at her enthusiasm. I got her into her wheelchair and we went down the hallway, with everyone we met smiling at my mom and wishing her a Happy New Year. Within minutes she had forgotten that she had the headband on, and would reach up to see what unfamiliar thing was on her head. Each time she would exclaim over it and put it back on. She was in her element.
Down in the special family dining room, we came upon coffee hour, and the women assembled all complimented my mom on her crown. She loved the attention, and wasn't the least bit self-conscious about wearing her new accessory. When we left, one of the women said "Good-bye to the Queen." Mom just giggled and smiled and waved to everyone as we left the room.
She wore the crown all the time we played cards and all the way back up to the 3rd floor. I felt in a small way, she had had her moment as Queen for a Day. As she progressively loses her ability to remember, to converse, to do much of anything for herself, I see her as very like her great grandaughter, 14 month old Ella. And as I ponder this, I think that perhaps Ella gets her cheery, sweet, charming nature from her great grandmother, who always has a smile and a giggle for all who cross her path.
Looking back, I'm surprised I was allowed to watch this show (or any daytime t.v.), but in those early days of t.v., when we only got one channel, I still spent most of my afternoons outside trying to keep up with my brothers or the boy next door. I do remember being horrified by the women's stories of overwork and underappreciation, usually involving many children, not enough money and some presence of a terrible illness, etc. It was a soap opera of a sort, and I had always loved listening to those on the radio. In fact, I'm pretty sure the show was sponsored by "Joy" and "Tide," which would have featured ads with women cheerfully going about scrubbing the dishes, the floors and the family wash, dressed to the nines in a crisp white apron over a "housedress."
The point of the show was to identify the woman with the worst story. This was measured by audience clapping the loudest on the applause-o-meter. The woman who won, would usually weep and blubber as various prizes were revealed from behind closed curtains. As I recall, they won new refrigerators, or washing machines, vacuum cleaners or floor polishers. Maybe they won a trip somewhere, I'm not too sure. I always felt so happy for the winner, but wondered how the others, whose stories struck me as equally terrible, managed to go back to their terrible lives. I think I really would have liked to see my mom on the show, but I knew she couldn't possibly match stories with these women.
All of this came back to me yesterday when I went to Langdon Place to visit my mom. Beside her chair was a headband-like item covered in silver, and with a cardboard crownlike part with silver sparkling tinsel fringing the words "Happy New Year." I picked it up and asked mom if she had gone to the New Year's celebration. She said no, but took the headband from me and said "I like this," and put it on sort of like an Indian headband. I put it up on the top of her head and then offered the mirror so she could see herself.
"Oh," she said, "I like this. I want to wear it."
"Okay," I said, smiling at her enthusiasm. I got her into her wheelchair and we went down the hallway, with everyone we met smiling at my mom and wishing her a Happy New Year. Within minutes she had forgotten that she had the headband on, and would reach up to see what unfamiliar thing was on her head. Each time she would exclaim over it and put it back on. She was in her element.
Down in the special family dining room, we came upon coffee hour, and the women assembled all complimented my mom on her crown. She loved the attention, and wasn't the least bit self-conscious about wearing her new accessory. When we left, one of the women said "Good-bye to the Queen." Mom just giggled and smiled and waved to everyone as we left the room.
She wore the crown all the time we played cards and all the way back up to the 3rd floor. I felt in a small way, she had had her moment as Queen for a Day. As she progressively loses her ability to remember, to converse, to do much of anything for herself, I see her as very like her great grandaughter, 14 month old Ella. And as I ponder this, I think that perhaps Ella gets her cheery, sweet, charming nature from her great grandmother, who always has a smile and a giggle for all who cross her path.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Good Will
I guess it's time for me to get political again. My activist self has been quiet for a long time, but there are so many issues of concern to me that I'm not going to stay silent any longer. Time to blast off.
Yesterday afternoon, I saw a first (for me, anyway) in the relatively wealthy Seacoast. At the intersection of Rte. 108 and Back River Rd. in Dover, a man stood in the median holding a sign which said: "Will work. Family needs help." There may have been more, but when the light turned green, I drove through the intersection fast enough that I couldn't make out the rest of the sign in the waning daylight.
I immediately began to think. Did I have work I could hire this man to do? Rake leaves? Scrub the mold off the outside of my house? Then. . . What must it be like to be reduced to standing outside holding that sign? How many family members did he have? Then. . . . could this be a scam? How many people are out there feeling that desperate or more desperate, while I have a 3 bedroom house, food, heat, new car and closets full of clothes. In short, I felt terrible.
Today the Senate voted against extending jobless benefits to those who have been unemployed for 99 weeks. 99 weeks. Just think about that. More than two years. These are the people who most need unemployment benefits. By now they would have sold everything they could have sold, used whatever savings they had, and would be on the brink of homelessness, I imagine. Are there people in the Senate who believe that these people are not trying to find work because they are so comfortable receiving their approximately $300.00 a week? How many of us can live on $300.00 per week? That amount would pay my mortgage. End of story.
And still the Republicans don't want to vote through benefits extension unless we can pay for them, at the same time that they don't want to allow taxes to rise on the wealthiest 400 Americans, who make more money than God, and who pay less than 16 per cent of their income in taxes - less, for example, than most of us pay. This is death-defying logic.
After visiting my mom, I headed to a yoga class, and on my way home, stopped at Good Will to shop for a warm coat for my mom since she has outgrown the one I bought her last year. As I browsed the racks, I felt completely guilty. The store was more crowded than I've ever seen it, and I was certain that everyone could tell that I didn't really NEED to shop at Good Will.
I wanted to announce that I was there on behalf of my mother who is now dependent on the very social programs that may well be cut in the rush to reduce the deficit. She has only $56.00 she is allowed to keep and spend out of her meager Social Security and retirement pension each month. Medicare and Medicaid pay for everything beyond what she pays to Langdon Place each month. I kept my mouth shut, found a coat I hope will zip around her ever-expanding belly, and beat feet out to the car.
I drove home so as to avoid the intersection of 108 and Back River Rd., but I hope that we will each feel inclined to listen carefully to the rhetoric coming out of Washington about deficit reduction, and contact our so-called legislators to encourage them to take steps to pass laws that will benefit the people who need the most help: the unemployed, the working poor, the elderly and those who are unable to take care of themselves. "Will Work. My family needs help."
Good Will to all.
Yesterday afternoon, I saw a first (for me, anyway) in the relatively wealthy Seacoast. At the intersection of Rte. 108 and Back River Rd. in Dover, a man stood in the median holding a sign which said: "Will work. Family needs help." There may have been more, but when the light turned green, I drove through the intersection fast enough that I couldn't make out the rest of the sign in the waning daylight.
I immediately began to think. Did I have work I could hire this man to do? Rake leaves? Scrub the mold off the outside of my house? Then. . . What must it be like to be reduced to standing outside holding that sign? How many family members did he have? Then. . . . could this be a scam? How many people are out there feeling that desperate or more desperate, while I have a 3 bedroom house, food, heat, new car and closets full of clothes. In short, I felt terrible.
Today the Senate voted against extending jobless benefits to those who have been unemployed for 99 weeks. 99 weeks. Just think about that. More than two years. These are the people who most need unemployment benefits. By now they would have sold everything they could have sold, used whatever savings they had, and would be on the brink of homelessness, I imagine. Are there people in the Senate who believe that these people are not trying to find work because they are so comfortable receiving their approximately $300.00 a week? How many of us can live on $300.00 per week? That amount would pay my mortgage. End of story.
And still the Republicans don't want to vote through benefits extension unless we can pay for them, at the same time that they don't want to allow taxes to rise on the wealthiest 400 Americans, who make more money than God, and who pay less than 16 per cent of their income in taxes - less, for example, than most of us pay. This is death-defying logic.
After visiting my mom, I headed to a yoga class, and on my way home, stopped at Good Will to shop for a warm coat for my mom since she has outgrown the one I bought her last year. As I browsed the racks, I felt completely guilty. The store was more crowded than I've ever seen it, and I was certain that everyone could tell that I didn't really NEED to shop at Good Will.
I wanted to announce that I was there on behalf of my mother who is now dependent on the very social programs that may well be cut in the rush to reduce the deficit. She has only $56.00 she is allowed to keep and spend out of her meager Social Security and retirement pension each month. Medicare and Medicaid pay for everything beyond what she pays to Langdon Place each month. I kept my mouth shut, found a coat I hope will zip around her ever-expanding belly, and beat feet out to the car.
I drove home so as to avoid the intersection of 108 and Back River Rd., but I hope that we will each feel inclined to listen carefully to the rhetoric coming out of Washington about deficit reduction, and contact our so-called legislators to encourage them to take steps to pass laws that will benefit the people who need the most help: the unemployed, the working poor, the elderly and those who are unable to take care of themselves. "Will Work. My family needs help."
Good Will to all.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
The check engine light of life
When the check engine light came on last March, I should have paid more attention. But my mechanic said they would try to turn it off, and if it didn't stay off, I would have to have some part of the emissions system replaced before my October inspection date. It seemed like a long time until October, so, when the light didn't turn off, I didn't worry about it (too much).
A little later, I noticed that there was a mysterious spot of something on the driveway underneath the car. I duly noted its location and reported it to my mechanic. I was afraid my radiator was leaking and that one day, I would be stranded with no water/coolant/whatever in my car (which had happened in my old car). Nope, he said, you're leaking power steering fluid, and you don't need to worry too much about that. The level is fine and the worst that will happen is you'll notice that it may get harder to steer. OK, I was fine with that. The car wasn't any harder to steer, and eventually, I didn't even notice any new spots on the driveway.
Just after that, I noticed that my front tires were pretty badly worn, so on my next oil change, I asked them to put the back tires on the front. They agreed that I would need 4 new tires before inspection in October. OK, I said. Plenty of time to take care of that.
From that moment, though, I noticed that the car drove funny. It felt the way I remember feeling when driving a car in the North Country on a 40 degree below zero morning when the tires are slightly flat where they've been resting on the cold ground. Only it wasn't 40 below. The faster I drove, the smoother the ride. It's just the car getting used to the different tires on the front, I thought. And kept driving.
When August rolled around, I was in for my oil change and asked my mechanic to also change the air filter. When the oil was changed, he came out and asked me if I were planning to get a new car any time soon. I was shocked. No, I said, but I did think I should start taking care of the various issues which had cropped up. Why?
He mentioned all the things I've mentioned above, and said, "It's going to cost you $2500.00 to get these things fixed." Little did he know. Little did I know. In the course of this conversation, it turned out that he thought I should take it to the Subaru dealer to get the Check Engine light turned off. So I did. And for $300.00 or so, they replaced the rear oxygen sensors. That was the good news. The bad news was that they told me what the mechanic had said was leaky steering fluid was actually a leaking head gasket. And the bad tires? That was actually separating rear trailing arms. Head gasket I knew, and my heart sank. Trailing arms? Really? Never heard of them.
Well, to make a long story shorter, it was going to take almost $3000.00 to put my car back into driveable, inspectable condition. NO, NO, NO!!! It wasn't time for me to have to buy a car. Yet what was the point of pouring money into a car that had 115,000 miles on it??? Thus began a nearly month-long internal debate about what to do (and for those of you who have had to listen, an external debate).
I think I despise nothing more than I despise car shopping. But last week, after driving down to Needham and feeling certain that my rear axle was going to fly apart with every pothole I hit on 128 around Boston, I knew that the time had come. My check engine light was off, but all that meant was that I had about $2800 to go before I would be safe again.
I learned some hard lessons about car maintenance on this go round. And I've learned that car salesmen are some of the sleazier people out there - or maybe they're not sleazy, but the car industry will screw you six ways to Sunday in order to maximize their profits; despite this, I am driving an ultra-safe, new-to-me, 2009 white Subaru Forester, and up to my neck in debt. While the car shopping was proceeding, I've needed electrical work done at the house; plumbing work in the kitchen and a new roof across the front of the house. Earlier this summer the kitchen ceiling had to be replaced as a consequence of a leak in the upstairs hot water pipe.
The moral to this story? When the check engine light turns on: pay attention - it's not just about your car!
A little later, I noticed that there was a mysterious spot of something on the driveway underneath the car. I duly noted its location and reported it to my mechanic. I was afraid my radiator was leaking and that one day, I would be stranded with no water/coolant/whatever in my car (which had happened in my old car). Nope, he said, you're leaking power steering fluid, and you don't need to worry too much about that. The level is fine and the worst that will happen is you'll notice that it may get harder to steer. OK, I was fine with that. The car wasn't any harder to steer, and eventually, I didn't even notice any new spots on the driveway.
Just after that, I noticed that my front tires were pretty badly worn, so on my next oil change, I asked them to put the back tires on the front. They agreed that I would need 4 new tires before inspection in October. OK, I said. Plenty of time to take care of that.
From that moment, though, I noticed that the car drove funny. It felt the way I remember feeling when driving a car in the North Country on a 40 degree below zero morning when the tires are slightly flat where they've been resting on the cold ground. Only it wasn't 40 below. The faster I drove, the smoother the ride. It's just the car getting used to the different tires on the front, I thought. And kept driving.
When August rolled around, I was in for my oil change and asked my mechanic to also change the air filter. When the oil was changed, he came out and asked me if I were planning to get a new car any time soon. I was shocked. No, I said, but I did think I should start taking care of the various issues which had cropped up. Why?
He mentioned all the things I've mentioned above, and said, "It's going to cost you $2500.00 to get these things fixed." Little did he know. Little did I know. In the course of this conversation, it turned out that he thought I should take it to the Subaru dealer to get the Check Engine light turned off. So I did. And for $300.00 or so, they replaced the rear oxygen sensors. That was the good news. The bad news was that they told me what the mechanic had said was leaky steering fluid was actually a leaking head gasket. And the bad tires? That was actually separating rear trailing arms. Head gasket I knew, and my heart sank. Trailing arms? Really? Never heard of them.
Well, to make a long story shorter, it was going to take almost $3000.00 to put my car back into driveable, inspectable condition. NO, NO, NO!!! It wasn't time for me to have to buy a car. Yet what was the point of pouring money into a car that had 115,000 miles on it??? Thus began a nearly month-long internal debate about what to do (and for those of you who have had to listen, an external debate).
I think I despise nothing more than I despise car shopping. But last week, after driving down to Needham and feeling certain that my rear axle was going to fly apart with every pothole I hit on 128 around Boston, I knew that the time had come. My check engine light was off, but all that meant was that I had about $2800 to go before I would be safe again.
I learned some hard lessons about car maintenance on this go round. And I've learned that car salesmen are some of the sleazier people out there - or maybe they're not sleazy, but the car industry will screw you six ways to Sunday in order to maximize their profits; despite this, I am driving an ultra-safe, new-to-me, 2009 white Subaru Forester, and up to my neck in debt. While the car shopping was proceeding, I've needed electrical work done at the house; plumbing work in the kitchen and a new roof across the front of the house. Earlier this summer the kitchen ceiling had to be replaced as a consequence of a leak in the upstairs hot water pipe.
The moral to this story? When the check engine light turns on: pay attention - it's not just about your car!
Friday, April 9, 2010
Dying by Degrees
I left my mom today, feeling so sad and so discouraged. All of a sudden she has become congested, hoarse and just plain back into the bronchitis which she has fought off and on since last Fall. She just two weeks ago got a clean bill of health from the pulmonologist. Now this. I know in my rational mind that at her age, any of these events could bring about her death. Yet, she is one of the most indomitable spirits I've ever known; ever cheerful in the face of adversity; always sure she will get better. She's lost most of her capacity for independent thought, and has a limited set of stock phrases which she uses to try to participate in a conversation. Excitement for her consists of my visits, a bunch of new flowers and a trip in her wheelchair down to the first floor where we check up on the current jigsaw puzzle, and I put pieces in while she tries to find a piece that has a chance of fitting somewhere in the puzzle. She is equally delighted by the pieces I put in as she is about coming close with her own piece.
I think a lot about the advantages of dying suddenly and unexpectedly as opposed to dying by degrees. I think about which is harder on the members of the family left behind. I think about the person whose life may be cut short before he/she has completed things or seen children or grandchildren grow up. I think about the long life my mom has lived and the joys and sorrows she has experienced by virtue of her 94 years. I think and I think. Some days I reach no conclusion. Today, I think how cruel it is for a person to die by degrees.
I think a lot about the advantages of dying suddenly and unexpectedly as opposed to dying by degrees. I think about which is harder on the members of the family left behind. I think about the person whose life may be cut short before he/she has completed things or seen children or grandchildren grow up. I think about the long life my mom has lived and the joys and sorrows she has experienced by virtue of her 94 years. I think and I think. Some days I reach no conclusion. Today, I think how cruel it is for a person to die by degrees.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Check Engine Light
How many hundred year floods can we have in a ten year period? I'm beginning to wonder! In the space of two weeks we have had first 90 mile/hour winds and driving rain causing flooding and massive power outages in the state followed two weekends later by 50 mph winds and at least 6 inches more of rain. The river Kwai rose in my backyard and through my basement. In spite of my efforts to stave off climate change through my energy conservation efforts, I fear that the climate in NH is changing.
They say that when we have really reached total climate change, the climate of NH will be what the climate is in North Carolina right now. I think that day may be coming sooner than we thought it would. It's March 17 and we have no snow and the snowdrops are blossoming in the woods by the screen porch. It was 68 degrees outside today and I was too warm wearing a sweatshirt and turtleneck outside raking. Ten days ago the Redwing blackbirds returned, along with the cowbirds and grackles. A generation ago (that would be in 1965 or so) I almost didn't get out of Connecticut for spring vacation because of a major blizzard closing transportation from NY City to New London, CT. Even ten years ago I have pictures of Todd and me skiing during his March vacation from college. I skiied once this year and that was farther north in the state.
I paid a lot of money to have my snowblower reconditioned and made ready for winter; then on snowstorm #2 some electrical thingy went wrong and I paid another $137 to get it fixed. For the 3 snow storms we've had, that comes to ummmm roughly one hundred dollars per storm to clear my driveway . . . . I probably should have put my money into a generator and a giant sump pump in the basement.
Maybe this year is an aberration. Maybe next year we'll have a ton of snow which will last into April. Maybe the sky will fall. It's time to turn on the check engine light of life. . .
They say that when we have really reached total climate change, the climate of NH will be what the climate is in North Carolina right now. I think that day may be coming sooner than we thought it would. It's March 17 and we have no snow and the snowdrops are blossoming in the woods by the screen porch. It was 68 degrees outside today and I was too warm wearing a sweatshirt and turtleneck outside raking. Ten days ago the Redwing blackbirds returned, along with the cowbirds and grackles. A generation ago (that would be in 1965 or so) I almost didn't get out of Connecticut for spring vacation because of a major blizzard closing transportation from NY City to New London, CT. Even ten years ago I have pictures of Todd and me skiing during his March vacation from college. I skiied once this year and that was farther north in the state.
I paid a lot of money to have my snowblower reconditioned and made ready for winter; then on snowstorm #2 some electrical thingy went wrong and I paid another $137 to get it fixed. For the 3 snow storms we've had, that comes to ummmm roughly one hundred dollars per storm to clear my driveway . . . . I probably should have put my money into a generator and a giant sump pump in the basement.
Maybe this year is an aberration. Maybe next year we'll have a ton of snow which will last into April. Maybe the sky will fall. It's time to turn on the check engine light of life. . .
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Really?
What I'm about to write flows directly from my career as an English teacher.
I don't always read the Boston Globe Sports section, but because I'm interested in the coverage of the Winter Olympics, and the start of Spring Training for the Sox, I read it yesterday. The article at the top of page 1 yesterday was about the deadly luge crash. The second sentence just made me shake my head, and wonder if the Globe even employs copy editors any more, not to mention educated writers. Here's the sentence: "News of the city sent shock waves threw this city . . . . " Really? Not "through?" Somewhere, Shira Springer's high school English teacher has just turned over in her grave.
Page 2: The headline "Goodell gets five-year deal" catches my eye. The Goodell family is connected to Chautauqua, and I had met some members of the family. Roger is the NFL commissioner, which I guess is the top Executive position in the league. As I read farther into the article, I was impressed to read that a year ago Goodell voluntarily took a cut of 20-25% in his salary and that other league executives had frozen their salaries for 2009. They did all that at a point where they cut 169 jobs, which amounted to 15% of the work force. So far so good.
Just how much did Roger Goodell make last year? The next appalling sentence told me: His tax return showed $9,759,000, of which $2.9 million was salary and $6.55 million was bonus and incentive compensation. Really? I guess he could probably have afforded the cut he took. I couldn't help wondering if he and the other league executives couldn't have taken cuts large enough to cover the payroll of the 169 people they fired. But isn't that too socialist of me?
As one who never made more than $63,000 for a 50-60 hour work week, I struggle with the concept that running a football league should bring a person $2.9 million in salary, never mind the huge bonus. though I suppose his salary needs to be competitive with the ridiculous salaries that the players get paid to go out and try to damage their brains. Somehow, I think the discrepancy between the salaries of teachers (and principals) and football players and league executives says a lot about our society. And it isn't good.
I don't always read the Boston Globe Sports section, but because I'm interested in the coverage of the Winter Olympics, and the start of Spring Training for the Sox, I read it yesterday. The article at the top of page 1 yesterday was about the deadly luge crash. The second sentence just made me shake my head, and wonder if the Globe even employs copy editors any more, not to mention educated writers. Here's the sentence: "News of the city sent shock waves threw this city . . . . " Really? Not "through?" Somewhere, Shira Springer's high school English teacher has just turned over in her grave.
Page 2: The headline "Goodell gets five-year deal" catches my eye. The Goodell family is connected to Chautauqua, and I had met some members of the family. Roger is the NFL commissioner, which I guess is the top Executive position in the league. As I read farther into the article, I was impressed to read that a year ago Goodell voluntarily took a cut of 20-25% in his salary and that other league executives had frozen their salaries for 2009. They did all that at a point where they cut 169 jobs, which amounted to 15% of the work force. So far so good.
Just how much did Roger Goodell make last year? The next appalling sentence told me: His tax return showed $9,759,000, of which $2.9 million was salary and $6.55 million was bonus and incentive compensation. Really? I guess he could probably have afforded the cut he took. I couldn't help wondering if he and the other league executives couldn't have taken cuts large enough to cover the payroll of the 169 people they fired. But isn't that too socialist of me?
As one who never made more than $63,000 for a 50-60 hour work week, I struggle with the concept that running a football league should bring a person $2.9 million in salary, never mind the huge bonus. though I suppose his salary needs to be competitive with the ridiculous salaries that the players get paid to go out and try to damage their brains. Somehow, I think the discrepancy between the salaries of teachers (and principals) and football players and league executives says a lot about our society. And it isn't good.
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