Hank and Benny's original message to Congress

Leave $1.8 trillion
In a brown paper bag
By the phone booth,
Or you’ll never see your
Economy
Again!!

On Flag Worship

Yesterday, I was at a Residence Inn that I hang out at, waiting for walk up customers to come out, or for the front desk to call us. In order to be truly successful in Phoenix, a taxi driver has got to solicit hotels or bars. You have to give them excellent service in clean cabs, and be available when needed. It is just the way the market rules our lives. Most of the larger hotels have contracts with large taxi companies, or town car services. But there are dozens of smaller and medium sized hotels and motels that need help. Those are the ones to go after.

So I am sitting outside the Residence Inn which I have tried so hard to service these last months when Jenna, the desk clerk at the Residence Inn, comes out, and starts fiddling with the flag pole, which I am parked about five feet from. Being the nosey guy that I am, I decided to help.

The flagpole is hollow, and the ropes that run the flag up and down are hidden inside the pole itself. Access is gained by unlocking a tiny door on the side of the pole about five feet up. The maintenance guy unlocked the flagpole door for Jenna, and they looked at the mechanism for a few minutes before figuring it out.

Then the discussion began. What is the “proper” way to lower a flag to half mast? Jenna was of the opinion that you lower it all the way down, then raise it back up half way. The maintenance guy wasn’t so sure. I was of the opinion that you lower it halfway and be done with it.

“Why are you lowering the flag anyway?” I asked.

“There was a bombing in Pakistan. Someone blew up a Marriott Hotel.”

Helpfully I suggested, “Why don’t we raise a Pakistani flag to half mast then?”

Jenna just looked at me uncertain if I were joking or a raving lunatic. (It’s the latter.)

“It’s on orders from corporate.” Residence Inn is a Marriott property, so, apparently, all the Marriott hotels are lowering their flags.

When the flag came down, it was rather dirty from having been flown day and night for the last few weeks. I suggested it be laundered.

“How do we launder a flag?” asked Jenna.

“I don’t know. Can’t be too hard. It’s just a piece of cloth. There must be laundering instructions on it.”

I unclipped the flag from one of its clips, and looked at the margin, hoping to find a tag that said “colorfast, machine wash in cold” or something. I dreaded finding a “dry clean only” sticker on it since that would mean sending it out and what would corporate say?

“No, I mean what is the proper etiquette for washing a flag?”

“I think you’re supposed to burn it, ceremonially,” said the maintenance guy.

“Don’t let it touch the ground!” said Jenna.

“I wouldn’t worry,” I said, “I don’t see any boy scouts or Marines around.”

I didn’t find a cleaning instruction label; all I found was a small tag that said “Made in China” on it. I kept my idiot comments to myself.

“Well, let’s put it back up. We’ll wash it another time.”

They started reeling the flag back up the pole. About two thirds of the way to half mast, I noticed that I had reclipped the flag to the wrong clip, and the top was hanging nicely, but the bottom was kind of bunched up and weird looking. I pointed that out to my fellows, and down we lowered the flag again. After reattaching the flag properly, back up it went. But we hadn’t figured out how to tie it off and make it stay at half mast. The maintenance guy let go of the rope, and the flag came screaming back to the ground. Jenna grabbed it just before it touched earth.

I peeked into the guts of the flagpole through the little door, and fiddled with the workings. In a minute, I had worked out how to make the flag stay in place.

“The rope runs through this little groove thing here,” I said.

“Yeah, and then this little brass thing pushes down and locks the rope,” said the maintenance guy.

Up the flag went. Two thirds of the way to the halfway point, the maintenance guy says,

“Shouldn’t we salute?”

So all three of us saluted, and the rope slid out of the maintenance guy’s hand, and the flag skittered back down the pole. Maintenance guy grabbed the rope and hauled the thing into its proper place, while Jenna and I held our right hands over our brows in a very patriotic salute. I quickly snapped the flag’s rope into place, and Jenna locked the little flag pole door.

I sincerely hope no Pakistani ghosts were watching us. Or anyone from Marriott corporate for that matter.

The Wicked Witch of Western Style Banking

Remember that scene in the Wizard of Oz where Dorothy throws water on the Witch, and she screams "I'm melting! Oh what a horrible world!" Well, its happening on Wall Street and.. what do you mean "plot spoiler"? That stinking movie has been out since the last Depression these banksters caused!
Anyway after a second thought I realized that I am far too ignorant of these things to comment intelligently, so I will leave that up to the guys at www.lewrockwell.com, at www.dailyreckoning.com, and at www.globaleconomicanalysis.blogspot.com . These guys can provide solid analysis about what is going on, and advise you what to do with the pathetic lump you have left in your 401K.
I can tell you how to survive this shit-storm when you have no money and are nothing but a working class guy. The Book of Proverbs says, "Go to the ant oh sluggard! consider her ways, and be wise!" (You know, I think that is the first time in literary history the words "Book of Proverbs" and "shit-storm" have ever been used together in a paragraph! Hurrah for firsts!)
My Proverb is "Go to the cockroach, thou bone-head! Consider her ways and survive!"
Cockroaches are difficult to kill. Just ask the ones that inhabited my kitchen for three years, non-stop. They were all over everything, and it did not matter what I did, I could not get rid of them. I tried sprays, bombs, traps. I even offered to buy them a trip to Flint Michigan, where my useless brother in law lives. What finally worked was when a pipe broke under the bathtub drain. The plumber had to cut a hole in the wall beneath the kitchen cabinet to get at the bathtub drain and repair it. Well, that's where the roaches had their little safe haven. Once that area had been exposed, the poisons made fast order of the little insect bastards. But I did learn a lot by observing the little critters.
Roaches can eat anything. They aren't choosey. You should be too. Learn to eat a thousand different cuisines because you never know when your going to end up somewhere where the only place open is a cheap dive that serves borderline Chinese food (Our chow mein is made with real chows!) More importantly is where you get your food--or ability to survive. You should have by now at least a dozen different salable skills. I am not talking about "career choices" I am talking about job skills that you can use in a pinch. Can you clean a pool and mow a lawn? You can work in landscape and yard care. Can you change oil and do basic mechanics on cars? Can you care for whiny brats, and change diapers? Can you sell anything? All these are marketable skills Hone them., Be prepared because you may have to use one or more of them to save money or to live on.
Roaches can live anywhere and are not concerned much about property values or the view. Oh no! you lost the McMansion? Well, buck up and lease a flat in the lesser part of town. I myself have lived in trailer parks and cheap ass apartments. One apartment was SO bad, the cockroaches would wake you up at night to tell you you had termites.
Roaches can dodge almost any destructive force, such as a shoe or a flyswatter because they are so damn observant. Keeep your eye out for forces that want to destroy you. This would include the IRS, the child protective services, and most importantly the cops. Remember the key phrase when dealing with ANY government official who is asking stupid questions: "I will say nothing without my lawyer present." Anything you say can and WILL be used against you--even if they have to make it up or take it out of context. The only thing they cannot use against you is silence. Keep your head shut.
Roaches have little or no loyalty. And your loyalty should be limited to close personal friends, and relatives. Under no circumstances should you be a patriot, or be "loyal to your country". Are you loyal to your city? Would you give your life to save the cultural goldmine and beacon of freedom and democracy that is Glendale, AZ? No? Then why the hell are you loyal to an even bigger boon-doggle? Patriotism will get you killed. Why? Because it clouds your mind to possible escape routes. Think of all those patriotic Russians who decided to stay and support the mother land when the Communists took over in 1917. Or those patriotic German Jews who thought they could work with the system and change it. Their corpses DID make interesting grainy black and white photographs.
Roaches breed like crazy. And you should too. Well, maybe not actually produce children, but you should cultivate excellent relations with the family. You made really need their support and skills sometime. Even your brother in law.
Roaches are really good at hiding. You should be too. Be unobtrusive. Don't stick your neck out, express radical opinions in public, or write on blogs (unless you just don't care anymore). Hide all your financial paperwork that you can. Keep your gun in a safe hiding place.
Roaches keep multiple food sources handy. Never ever keep more than you can afford to lose in a single bank account. And diversify. You should have accounts in several banks. If one of them goes tits up (and you won't know about it until it is way too late) you may not lose your money, but your access to it will certainly be delayed. Possibly by weeks.
Using these tactics, the common roach has been around since the days of the dinosaur. You can survive too! Just use the tactics of the roach! Consider her disgusting ways, and survive!