Oh as the world turns, now just where are my bonbons?
Again, through the miracle of television, we get revision of the facts; we get flooded with lights, camera, action from all points of view -- except from the one that really matters; we get spellbound and entranced, watching the charades continue in disbelief, out of utter curiosity; and then bam, the unthinkable happpens, taking us all by surprise, never having seen it coming...or did we?
You know, a good soap does this to us over and over again; this would be highly entertaining right now, if these kinds of antics weren't tossed around on the world stage IN REALITY!
My favorite part yesterday -- and there were so many -- was at the tail end of his two-minute hail to me, the chief, speech (almost done with the same flare as a certain "mission accomplished" banner, but whatever) when he said, paraphrasing of course, 'before I leave you today, let's give a shout out and embarrass a couple of guys, who were key in making all my GM dreams come true...ah now don't be shy...come on now Ron (as in Bloom), and the other Ron...stand up and be proud Americans...'
The one who should be embarrassed -- for even just opening the door -- should be you, Mr. President.
What YOU really meant to say was thank you Rattner, as in Steve Rattner -- the one who just so happened to be paying millions, maybe billions before all is said and done, to the State of New York, the SEC, and anyone else who might come along to stake claim (kinda like China with it's shares of GM). Hand it over and nobody will get hurt -- except maybe a reputation or two, but who's cares about that, right?
You know, if it wasn't all so creepy -- I might be standing with Obama, too, on this lovely day after the largest IPO known to man; but I simply can't.
I just can't help but imagine what tricks he pulled, what cajoling, what arm twisting, what tactics using some combination of 'what part do you not understand' and 'really? seriously? like you have a choice' -- to make this great day for Government Motors happen? you know what I'm sayin?
I mean, for Rattner (and just love how the name fits into the storyline) to have been found guilty, on a variety of counts, profiting in the millions, based on his ability to master the dynamics of the kickback? THAT is a story made for T.V., doncha know. somebody pass me a mocha cream, stat.
(and don't think the timing isn't suspect to a little gerrymandering too ...brilliant...)
Ron Bloom, and his merry band of car czar wannabes, did squat, really. The deal was brokered, done, signed, sealed and call it delivered on the back of a semi-trailer, with the paper still on the windshield. All Ron had to do was get in it and drive -- and real fast, I might add.
I am just stunned that the president was able to get that line off with a straight face, that's all. That is work of a true genious; that deserves a daytime Emmy; that is surely one for the show and two for the money -- you know what I'm sayin?
Okay, so to sum it all up; everybody seems to have escaped this episode unscathed -- except perhaps, the Rattner, and those of us on the outside, those of us sitting home with melted chocolate on the fingertips and nowhere to go but hide, I mean, wait, wondering, will we ever learn? Is our happy ending in the next season of let the good times roll? What about me, we all say in unison from behind the curtain? What about the tax payer...who must sit back and watch the world happen around us, to us, without so much as a thank you? I didn't hear him say, thank you to US. Did you?
Did you hear an earnest plea to sit tight, our day is coming? Did you get any sense of security in when our vigs would appear out of thin air? Did you hear confidence in the free market system? Or through the miracle of TV, find a blind man behind the wheel giving us worn out assurances that His vision for America's future -- her "fundamental transformation" -- is coming to fruition, piece by piece, auto parts and widgets and all, oh my...
What we heard was ...and I'm paraphrasing again... 'we told them we would stand by them, if you do this, this, this and this....(blah blah blah)...new leadership, fresh thinking, and shared sacrifice...(blah blah blah) And they did. and it was good. and tomorrow, we may not be able to rest with ease, but we can sure rally around the shares today and be glad in it.'
While G's hemorrhaging on the nit picky and sugar overload -- along with the accompaniment of the debonair Dr. Killdare, looking aimlessly into space -- let us ponder in an awkward long pause just how the president fudged a wee bit on reality. Giving himself and GM the best light, he had the audacity to raise claim to have cut the government stake in GM (and I quote this time) "by nearly half." No, Mr. President, try more like 37% -- a fifth grader could tell you it is closer to one-third than one half, but again, details...you say Bloom, we say Rattner. Whatever.
So bring on the jammies to settle in for the long winter, the stock, while at about $34 (ooh that's almost 1/3rd) will have to rise to $52.00/share (ooh that's nearly one half) for us to see the light of day on this one; and with the way things are changing, with the way this world keeps turning, one life to live may not be enough to see this happen. details, shmeetails, Rattner and rat-tales, let's just hope the Bloom isn't off the rose, just yet.
At least we've got each other, what a box of bonbons and a warm blankie can do; in the meantime, we can live vicariously through the lives of made-up TV -- or even be really bad and watch the horrid display of the uncouth, naughty, or just plum one-ups-man-ship in reality shows -- or sit back and wait for the next press corps meeting.
In any case, it will be an event made for you and me. craving nuts and nougat now... reality just bites sometimes, doesn't it. doesn't it?
Make it a Good Day, G
can we count the number of czars taken off the air for unscrupulous, unspeakable, un-American acts...that should keep us amused for awhile.
Showing posts with label the new GM. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the new GM. Show all posts
Friday, November 19, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Dear America,
Okay, so I drop my girl off at school this morning and begin to pay attention to the morning zoo on the radio, for San Diego -- that lively bunch comes by way of DSC, the Dave, Shelly and Chainsaw threesome, notorious for never knowing what will come out of their mouths.
Now usually, I dig them; they are all about cutting through BS and getting to the nuts and bolts of a story, and more importantly, react to the news of the day with a little whimsy, a bit of reality, and most definately, pure bonafide guts. Today, however, I found myself shaking my head wondering what just happened.
Beginning with their lead remarks on city pensions, sensing I took a serious wrong turn on the dial when they began to support obscene pensions for the typical librarian. Somehow that morphed into the story on the local firehouse fighting, not fire but, bed bugs -- to the tune of $25,000 -- upending their beds and any chance of a good night sleep for days and weeks to come (but really, I have no problem with the care of our firemen...this part I liked); but then, in a flash, as this DSC BS realized they were well off the main drag, they meandered back on topic, and resumed their road rage with adding, hey, it's not the people's fault the city agreed to the unforeseen, unimaginable, unaffordable pensions they could no longer keep up; there are no "do-overs" -- they (the city, along with tax payers presumably) need to pay up and shut up; for a deal is a deal is a deal -- a handshake is a handshake. (and this, on the tail of the salaries/pension brouhaha in the City of Bell, CA, blindsiding a nation).
Coupled with the idea that Social Security is somehow guaranteed by way of our Constitution, this sort of thing just sends me reeling.
It is Star Parker's column today that helps us pave the way to a better understanding, at least in part, highlighting some of the facts for us; in 1935, there were 16 people for every retiree, now only three; while the average age for retirement nearly matched the expected lifetime, at around 66; today, thanks to quality medical care and prescription drugs, the average male lives to be about 75, after retiring anytime after 62, so you do the math.
The thing is, just as we re-calibrated for the times back in the 30's, out of the goodness of our heart, thinking it was the best thing we did since sliced bread and automatic transmission, we must heed to the greater common manual to fix this; whether it be union pensions, to social security, to medicare, to health care for all, to unemployment, to bailouts of any kind...this track we are on is unsustainable (just a fact that no one argues...)
I find it infuriating that there is not one democrat running for re-election tooting their own horn to the barrage of entitlements and stimulus they signed into law in the last two years, while in the process escalating the deficit spending and monstracity of debt piled up and leaving us for dead; and truth be told, they have been in charge since 2006, being the ultimate pace car for anyone who would follow. While if I hear, "you can keep your doctor" one more time from this president, I will surely blow a gasket; as we go round and round with every good intention, the likelihood of that being able to happen -- after new regulations, obstacles and strangleholds are fully implemented -- is like a nil-ion to one; as the unintended consequences of the accident waiting to happen sits at the side of the road just up ahead -- in that we will no longer have a doctor to keep.
And don't even get me started on this era of 'new adventures for old GM'; government motors has never looked so sleazy...
Our woes have come about because we are so off course its not even funny.
While its deejays out there -- who's sole purpose is to make the journey just a wee bit more enjoyable --who should really have no business polluting the airwaves with talk that simply goes around haphazardly missing the point, while in the process, doing nothing to feed the engine that makes it all happen in the first place.
But make no mistake, the free speech they feel rightfully entitled to -- and they should -- comes by way of a long and winding road; a hard, rocky, tumultuous, purple mountain of a dirt road, led by the very pioneers of the industrial world and the American phenomenon. Ultimately, they became responsible for the making of the well-oiled machine we revel in today -- a brand, spanking new world -- unmatched in beauty, character, workmanship, horse power, engineering, ingenuity -- and all by design.
The times, they are a'changin (again).
In order to stay up with the times and honor what drives America to greatness, day in and day out, always comes down -- or rather, rises up -- to what we are made of...the ample strength of character and exceptional values back behind the name.
In order for the world to buy American again, we must show the unwavering faith in who we are and what we are made of first; for America to compete, we must return to the basics -- for the making of one, damn good machine is what its all about; the kind of machine that every single one of us is just dying to get behind the wheel and drive.
There is no messing around with the distractions of spin off's and off shoots from the original design -- in a manner of speaking, even the hybrids must align with the original constitution and the magnificence of true engineering; for goodness gracious, we are the company and we know what works (and if only we listened to the sage adivce of -- if it ain't broke, don't fix it.)
We are birthed from one philosophy, one line of thinking, one corporate culture; implementing the only design proven to work time and time again, in keeping with our inherent ability and individual work ethic to carry us into the next generation, and the next; we make it right or we don't do it at all.
We are no sissy car, chick car, or pinto; we are cadillac -- we are maverick -- we are v-8 and destined by fate -- made entirely of the best materials money can buy, combining fuel economy, good old American oil, green energy, and a higher consciousness -- while sold by red blooded Americans to Americans, in every town from sea to shining sea, and of course, globally, and upon the American stock exchange to boot -- and all for profit (not greed, profit).
The truth is, the making of an icon does not come easy or cheap; but the American model, with its fastest, highest performing, all inclusive benefit package available on the market today, yesterday, and the tomorrow to come, is the real deal. When made according to plan, with a track record that speaks for itself, it's sustainability factor goes off the charts (as featured in every consumer guide ever made, every year since 1776); but the clincher, when made right and built tough, if something should ever happen...you should realize that its never the car's fault; any issues that arise are the direct result of who is behind the wheel...which includes, but are not limited to:
Make it a Good Day, G
oh I know, I'm just another american made blowhard too; but look at the metal around me, this baby's built to last...and there is just something so intoxicating about being able to pass it on to my girl someday.
Now usually, I dig them; they are all about cutting through BS and getting to the nuts and bolts of a story, and more importantly, react to the news of the day with a little whimsy, a bit of reality, and most definately, pure bonafide guts. Today, however, I found myself shaking my head wondering what just happened.
Beginning with their lead remarks on city pensions, sensing I took a serious wrong turn on the dial when they began to support obscene pensions for the typical librarian. Somehow that morphed into the story on the local firehouse fighting, not fire but, bed bugs -- to the tune of $25,000 -- upending their beds and any chance of a good night sleep for days and weeks to come (but really, I have no problem with the care of our firemen...this part I liked); but then, in a flash, as this DSC BS realized they were well off the main drag, they meandered back on topic, and resumed their road rage with adding, hey, it's not the people's fault the city agreed to the unforeseen, unimaginable, unaffordable pensions they could no longer keep up; there are no "do-overs" -- they (the city, along with tax payers presumably) need to pay up and shut up; for a deal is a deal is a deal -- a handshake is a handshake. (and this, on the tail of the salaries/pension brouhaha in the City of Bell, CA, blindsiding a nation).
Coupled with the idea that Social Security is somehow guaranteed by way of our Constitution, this sort of thing just sends me reeling.
It is Star Parker's column today that helps us pave the way to a better understanding, at least in part, highlighting some of the facts for us; in 1935, there were 16 people for every retiree, now only three; while the average age for retirement nearly matched the expected lifetime, at around 66; today, thanks to quality medical care and prescription drugs, the average male lives to be about 75, after retiring anytime after 62, so you do the math.
The thing is, just as we re-calibrated for the times back in the 30's, out of the goodness of our heart, thinking it was the best thing we did since sliced bread and automatic transmission, we must heed to the greater common manual to fix this; whether it be union pensions, to social security, to medicare, to health care for all, to unemployment, to bailouts of any kind...this track we are on is unsustainable (just a fact that no one argues...)
I find it infuriating that there is not one democrat running for re-election tooting their own horn to the barrage of entitlements and stimulus they signed into law in the last two years, while in the process escalating the deficit spending and monstracity of debt piled up and leaving us for dead; and truth be told, they have been in charge since 2006, being the ultimate pace car for anyone who would follow. While if I hear, "you can keep your doctor" one more time from this president, I will surely blow a gasket; as we go round and round with every good intention, the likelihood of that being able to happen -- after new regulations, obstacles and strangleholds are fully implemented -- is like a nil-ion to one; as the unintended consequences of the accident waiting to happen sits at the side of the road just up ahead -- in that we will no longer have a doctor to keep.
And don't even get me started on this era of 'new adventures for old GM'; government motors has never looked so sleazy...
Our woes have come about because we are so off course its not even funny.
While its deejays out there -- who's sole purpose is to make the journey just a wee bit more enjoyable --who should really have no business polluting the airwaves with talk that simply goes around haphazardly missing the point, while in the process, doing nothing to feed the engine that makes it all happen in the first place.
But make no mistake, the free speech they feel rightfully entitled to -- and they should -- comes by way of a long and winding road; a hard, rocky, tumultuous, purple mountain of a dirt road, led by the very pioneers of the industrial world and the American phenomenon. Ultimately, they became responsible for the making of the well-oiled machine we revel in today -- a brand, spanking new world -- unmatched in beauty, character, workmanship, horse power, engineering, ingenuity -- and all by design.
The times, they are a'changin (again).
In order to stay up with the times and honor what drives America to greatness, day in and day out, always comes down -- or rather, rises up -- to what we are made of...the ample strength of character and exceptional values back behind the name.
In order for the world to buy American again, we must show the unwavering faith in who we are and what we are made of first; for America to compete, we must return to the basics -- for the making of one, damn good machine is what its all about; the kind of machine that every single one of us is just dying to get behind the wheel and drive.
There is no messing around with the distractions of spin off's and off shoots from the original design -- in a manner of speaking, even the hybrids must align with the original constitution and the magnificence of true engineering; for goodness gracious, we are the company and we know what works (and if only we listened to the sage adivce of -- if it ain't broke, don't fix it.)
We are birthed from one philosophy, one line of thinking, one corporate culture; implementing the only design proven to work time and time again, in keeping with our inherent ability and individual work ethic to carry us into the next generation, and the next; we make it right or we don't do it at all.
We are no sissy car, chick car, or pinto; we are cadillac -- we are maverick -- we are v-8 and destined by fate -- made entirely of the best materials money can buy, combining fuel economy, good old American oil, green energy, and a higher consciousness -- while sold by red blooded Americans to Americans, in every town from sea to shining sea, and of course, globally, and upon the American stock exchange to boot -- and all for profit (not greed, profit).
The truth is, the making of an icon does not come easy or cheap; but the American model, with its fastest, highest performing, all inclusive benefit package available on the market today, yesterday, and the tomorrow to come, is the real deal. When made according to plan, with a track record that speaks for itself, it's sustainability factor goes off the charts (as featured in every consumer guide ever made, every year since 1776); but the clincher, when made right and built tough, if something should ever happen...you should realize that its never the car's fault; any issues that arise are the direct result of who is behind the wheel...which includes, but are not limited to:
- the sloppy drunks
- the distracted driver, eating and gossiping
- the too flashy for your own good
- the not in my budget, but want it anyway
- the 'oops I did it again'
- the 'what, it needs oil? water?' crowd
- the 'wash me' on the back window people
- the speed racers
- the let's tweak with the design a touch
- the let's just cover the ding with paint
- the 'its just a pebble,' what harm can it do
- the reckless, thoughtless, road rage'rs
- the Sunday drivers, unaware and clueless
- and finally, the convoy of followers just sucking up another's exhaust
Make it a Good Day, G
oh I know, I'm just another american made blowhard too; but look at the metal around me, this baby's built to last...and there is just something so intoxicating about being able to pass it on to my girl someday.
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