Untangling the Crisis - Money 101 from NPR

Like most of us I am watching the financial crisis unfold. I do feel like I’m walking across the beach after the sea has gone away and looking at all the strange things we couldn’t see before. Things like, naked Short selling, CDS’ and Commercial Paper. I even found myself using the phrase ‘financial instrument’ not so long ago. All the time I wander on this beach, overturning rocks and digging at sand worms with my toes I am aware that it is only here because a disastrous tidal wave is coming.

My first major insight into how the crisis started came in May with an NPR radio show in the series “This American Life”. The show was called The Giant Pool of Money and even though you will have to pay for it now, it will be the best 95c you ever spent. This show, in very simple terms, explains how the mortgage crisis has impacted us and how it came about. This American Life followed up that show in October, with a show called “Another Frightening Show About The Economy”. Again 95cents but this show explains the CDS issue.

One thing in this current financial climate is the amazing speed at which things are happening. Stuff which would previously have headline news for months barely makes it to the front page. At least three high street banks have been bought for pennies. The US government and its people have shares in banks! In a run up to an election! In another time this would have been the hottest topic and would dominate the election for the entire race but now everyone shrugs and seems to accept it.

The last radio show/podcast I want to talk about is NPR’s Planet Money podcast, which is almost a spin off from the two This American Life shows. There have been a few I have really enjoyed and a few that slipped by unnoticed. However one recent show I really liked is this one. The really interesting (to me) part is the interview with the postal worker who wanders around Seattle delivering mail and reading between the lines.

Finally, just remember this: Even as this credit/mortgage crisis unfolds and as the inevitable recession, or even depression, swallows us up, we will still be loved and we will still be able to love others – money isn’t everything.

Hope this helps.



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Bazza

The Soft-dying Day

I awoke this morning in my southern New England home to the sound of the wind pushing against the house. Outside the sky was a crisp blue. The multi-colour leaves of autumn were lining up like golden sky-divers; waiting for their cue to leap from the trees and then tumble and dance down the hilly road.

The wind breathes excitement and animation outside my window. The heavy foliage of summer stops the hanging green frog from spinning over our deck. But now the fall has come and the cover is thinned, so that you can see patches of sky, the frog spins madly throwing off spirals of reflected light. Speedy, Sparky and their friends that inhabit the grassy bank, are nervous. The sweet smelling autumn wind moves everything and drowns out the normal sounds of safety. The change of air is tangible to them as they stand on their hind legs, twitching and sniffing. The small mammals are obvious now because they are the only stationary things. Ironic that they should be so exposed by the very act that helps keep them safe at other times.

In the front of the house, the verdant green canopy transforms into boney black fingers that point skywards accusingly. “The sky took the leaves, the sky took the leaves.” they say and the sky is guilty as charged.

Later, as I left the house, the wind pushed me urgently from behind as I walked, “Move along, move along. No time to hang around, it is coming.”

And later still, in the car the radio tells me that indeed, snow has fallen in the north already. I am dismayed to realise that it is dark at both the 6.30s that occur in any twenty-four hours.

The wind excites us with its news but it will be gone tomorrow leaving the horrible realisation that the better parts of the year are beyond reach now and soon the heavy cold grey blanket will replace the blue. We will retreat to our homes and burrows. The spiraling green frog will be taken down and stored along with the cheery summer lanterns that line the paths around us. Collect your firewood and admire the last few stubborn leaves then hunker down. Winter isn’t long now.

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Bazza

Title from 'To Autumn' by John Keats

Monsters and Angels

We haven’t had an embarrassing kid’s story for a while so here is the tale of Moochy and the monster under his bed.

Moochy, my eldest son hated going to bed and never more so than when he felt there was something happening that he was missing out on. In those times he would invent all sorts of reasons for why he could not go to sleep or had to keep getting up. This story takes place on one of those occasions when he was about four.

One beautiful spring evening we were staying at his Grandparent’s house in southwest London, near where me and his mother both lived before moving about 60 miles away. Anyway, we had arranged for some of our old friends to come around and hang out for a while. They were due around 8 and so just before that we put Moochy and his younger brother, Spud, into their pajamas, tucked them into bed and turning out the light, bade them goodnight.

No sooner had the first visitors arrived than a little blond four year old appeared and told us.
“I can’t sleep; there’s a monster under my bed”.

We were used to this. We told him to go back to bed, stop messing around and anyway there are no monsters in his grandmother’s house. He pouted and went back to his bed.
Five minutes later some more friends arrived and The Moochmeister was back out again.
“The monster under my bed is making noise, I’m frightened!”

We smiled, our friends were there after all, and told the itinerant boy that he wasn’t missing anything and that he should go back to bed again. More reluctantly than the first time, he went back to bed.
At this stage we were the first of our group to have children and so we were patiently explaining to all our pals that this was normal behaviour for our son and he wasn’t really scared of anything more than missing a good party. Our friends just smiled indulgently and Moochy appeared yet again.
“The monster under my bed keeps moving. I don’t want to sleep with the monster!” He announced to us all.

I stood up from where I had been sitting. His large Blue eyes filled with fear as he looked up into my face.
“Dammit child! There are no monsters under your bed.” I hissed. The room around us fell silent and Moochy’s eyes started to cry. Everyone was watching the scene.
“B b b but there really is a monster.” He said like Oliver asking for more.
“Here,” I said, snatching up a torch from the sideboard “I’ll show you”.

As expected in the pitch-dark bedroom all was silent except for the quiet breathing of his brother, who clearly did not believe the monster nonsense either. Moochy and I moved to stand between the two old wooden beds. We crouched down on all fours so that we could shine the torch under bed. I pointed the torch into the blackness and clicked it on ….

There were two huge green eyes looking back at me. Under the headboard a hiss issued from a blackness that reached from the floor to bottom of the mattress.
“Holy ****!” I said forgetting about the four year old now trembling and trying to hide behind me.

The blackness suddenly shifted and an enourmous ebony cat launched itself from underneath bed. It leapt the sleeping Spud in a single jump and bolted out the door. I ran after it stubbing my toe on the bed and adding more choice words to Moochy’s education. Back down the hall the immense cat ran and as the last of our friends arrived, it shot past them, through the open doorway and out of the house.

We never saw the cat again, our friends had us down as very improper parents but Moochy seemed to forget most of trauma and only remembered for ages how daddy scared the monster away. Oh yeah, and we never doubted his word again.


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Bazza

The Noisy Islanders

It was around eight years ago when I arrived in a Chicago suburb to live. I remember a lot of it really well. A few choice songs can transport me back to the feelings of adventure and novelty. Stumbling around a friendly area (especially the Northwest suburbs of Chicago) can be a lot of fun. Committing social faux pas or driving the wrong way around the parking lot. Those people are pretty friendly and tolerant. One of the really novel things I found was that even complete strangers would tell you their political convictions and this being just prior to the 2000 election there were a lot of people telling me what they believed.

When it came to novel ideas here was one. The circles I moved in when I lived around London a persons political beliefs were their own. No-one asked you about yours unless you advertised them. In fact I have friends I have known for nearly forty years and I couldn’t tell you which political party they root for. So having a relative (and sometimes complete) stranger telling you their beliefs felt a bit weird.

Weird definitely, but kind of liberating as well. Here was a nation so young and enthusiastic that people were not hindered by whatever bizarre awkward social unease that bewitched my London friends. I liked it.

That was eight years ago and about 7 years and 11 months ago something became apparent in the political rhetoric of all those people happy to speak of politics. They were unshakeable in their beliefs. In the eight years I have been here I have yet to see a discussion between a Democrat and a Republican where on of them said:
“You have a good point there.”

No, whenever I hear people around me talking about politics, an image comes to mind. Two small islands and atop each island is a person with ear plugs in. They are holding a megaphone to their mouth and shouting at the other person who of course has ear plugs and is just shouting back.

It’s kinda sad really. But I still like the people I am just a little less impressed with their willingness to talk.


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Bazza

Go Go Gadgets

There is one question my wife asks me regularly which no matter how often I try to explain she still thinks it’s a valid question. That question is:
“Haven’t you got enough gadgets?” What a ridiculous question to ask any man!

But here’s the thing, I do take too many gadgets when I travel (See picture below) so I need you help out there in Blog land

1. BlackBerry
2. 5th gen ipod
3. Palm T/X
4. Samsung quad band
5. Various Power Adapters
6, 7 & 8 USB memory stick, WIFI detector & Bluetooth connecter
9. Fold up Bluetooth keyboard (easier than laptop on planes)
10. Compact speakers.


Between the existing gadgets I can play great puzzle games, write blogs using the blue tooth keyboard, use a full GPS system (with a Bluetooth GPS puck – unshown). I can play music, browse the web, get and send emails, call home from abroad, read eBooks and tether to my laptop for on-the-go laptop internet connection (read it and weep iPhone users).

S0 here is the challenge. I really don’t want to lose any of these abilities. One of the gadgets must be a BlackBerry because of the restrictions from work. Palm doesn’t make handhelds anymore. The iPhone is crippled by AT&T. The iTouch is lacking Bluetooth and decent data entry. So ideally what I need is a two sim card, extensive Bluetooth support, 30 gb, quad band BlackBerry with an iPhone style screen.

Any ideas?

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Bazza