Why voters do not want to tax the top 1%.

From Robin Hood to revolutions, history is littered with stories of attempts to level the playing field between the rich and the poor. Yet, in 2011, it seems that most voters object to raising taxes on the richest one per cent of the population. What has brought about this change in attitude?
For thousands of years, wealth was often inherited or accumulated by violent warfare. The ruling class was feared and often despised. But over the twentieth century, this slowly changed. Now, the rich are viewed as celebrities. Many entrepreneurs, such as Bill Gates and Steven Jobs, are admired.
The rich are experts at public relations. When a member of the top one per cent gives to a charity, he or she makes sure to get recognition. Often this recognition is in the form of a newspaper article, but sometimes it is a name on a hospital wing.
However, I have a theory that may explain this phenomenon. The conservative Republicans and Tea Party activists are extreme optimists. In talking with devout conservatives who make less than median income, I often find a positive attitude about money. He or she has confidence. If a few breaks go his or her way, riches would follow. On the other hand, liberals are sometimes pessimists. They often have a good income. However, when a liberal looks at someone less fortunate, he can see himself if a few breaks had gone against him.
Just a thought.

Beth meets Harper Lee

A few days ago, I saw a Facebook post by my friend Beth showing off a copy of the great American novel, To Kill a Mockingbird, autographed by the author, Harper Lee. I was so happy for Beth. A few posts later, I realized that Beth had been invited to Miss Lee’s home. As proof, there were pictures of the two of them smiling. Beth did not invite me to go to Alabama to meet Miss Lee. Perhaps one of my disparaging comments about Cam Newton had somehow gotten back to her.

If you have never read To Kill a Mockingbird, immediately go to amazon.com and order a paperback copy. Published in 1960, the book won the Pulitzer Prize, was the basis for a remarkable movie, and had a profound affect on Americans during the 1960s and 70s. Although it has sold 30 million copies, the publishers have, so far, refused to allow it to be sold electronically. There is no version available for the Kindle. The publishers feel that To Kill a Mockingbird is a treasure, and that the reader should have a printed copy to hold. I agree, and as I pare down my three bookcases of printed books, it is one of the dozen or so hardbound books that I will keep forever. When I notice my copy (unsigned) in the bookcase, I instantly feel the warmth of Scout.

However, I also believe that vinyl records produce warmer sound than CDs. The New York Times is better printed on pulp paper, which I can fold three times until it is the size of an iPad. And photos captured on film (strip of plastic covered with light sensitive chemicals used in a camera to capture images in twentieth century) have more vivid colors than digital pictures. And how would Harper Lee autograph a Kindle edition?

Old Dawg

E D S Peaches

There was a time in the 1970s when my wife and I often travelled on I-75 between Cordele, Georgia and Atlanta. Just below Macon, on the right side of the northbound lanes, there was a handmade sign, which said “E D S Peaches.” I assumed it was a local farmer's roadside stand, and I always wondered why he or she chose such a corporate sounding name. The sign was replaced every few years, but the handwritten message always remained “E D S Peaches.” I always looked for the sign because it signaled that I had completed one-third of my journey back to Atlanta. I often passed time on the trip wondering what the letters stood for. The most logical conclusion was that the letters represented the initials of the farmer's daughters. I imagined Elizabeth, Doris and Sarah posing with tourists for pictures in front of the stand. Three Georgia Peaches minding their dad's roadside stand.

In 1983, we attended my grandmother's funeral in south Georgia. On the return trip to Atlanta, I was emotional. Both my parents and all four of my grandparents had passed on. The funeral marked the end of my family in south Georgia. My wife and I would probably never travel this road again. I joked that we should stop at E D S Peaches so I could find out the meaning of the name.

As we approached the exit, curiosity got the best of me. I exited the expressway and found the roadside stand about two hundred yards on the right. Behind the stand stood a grizzled old farmer in overalls and a ragged blue shirt. My wife selected a basket of peaches while I talked to the old man. “Is this your farm?” I asked.

“Since my father left it to me in 1963.” He was the type of man who looked you in the eye as if he were sizing you up. I wondered if he had worn the blue shirt to his dad's funeral.

“You have any kids to help you out?” I wanted to see if my guess about Elizabeth and her sisters was correct.

Becoming a little suspicious of me, he hesitated before answering, “Just my son, Ed Jr.” I thought for a moment and then I smiled one of those smiles that make you warm all over. I knew the meaning of E D S. Also, I realized the importance of an apostrophe!

Old Dawg