In a few weeks from today, we go to the polls. In Houston, there is a contest mayor's race, but for the most part, this election seems to be a yawner.
These off-year elections are actually the more important, as far fewer voters turn out, and these are the elections where we make decisions about matters that affect us directly and locally.
Since our state is governed by a lengthy and unruly constitution, we have a variety of measures which require constitutional amendments. We Texans just go along with this process, rather than demanding a new constitutional convention to clean up the mess - much like California.
What's more disturbing, the ballot summaries of these measures are too abbreviated and sometimes diverting from the real effects. Each of the ballot measures this year have been summed up for us by the Secretary of State's office, and contain the full text of what we are voting on. You can see this report here.
There are a number of amendments on the ballot this year that deal with property tax matters. Many people will vote based on pre-judged perceptions about taxes in general without really understanding the measures that they are voting on.
Over the next week, I'm going to review ALL of these ballot measures and analyze them for anyone to read. You'll be able to find these reviews here on my blog - you can sign up for notices that new posts have been made or just ask for updates from me directly.
Let's all agree to stop with the bombastic bullet points, because we ALL want a society that just works for everyone. Let's educate ourselves as to what is in front of us and use the power of the ballot box to take back this world from those who have only their self-interests at heart.
DJHJD
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Monday Mourning
This is post #2 under the same headline -
Last night, Matticia told me he nearly cried on the way home from work. He had spent many hours yesterday fussing about party effects he's purchased for delivery - and saw a guy trying to sell his bicycle on the street for $20 to buy some food.
I think that's called "realizing one's priorities are a bit screwed up". I don't know anything about that at all.
A few months ago, I was convinced that a beautiful $100K Audi S8 would make me happy. I had been convinced that a beautiful home with a pool and a garage were necessary and appropriate.
Having had a few of those beautiful homes, with rooms I didn't go into, boxes in closets I didn't open, kitchen appliances in cabinets I didn't use, I can tell you I was wrong about that.
I didn't really understand HOW wrong I was until this morning.
Even as I settled into my peaceful little apartment, even as I reveled in the freedom of having a LOT less stuff, even as my stress level unwound - I STILL thought that a gorgeous S8 would do me right. Happiness could rise or fall on whether the S8 had a full leather upgrade, and absolutely was dependent on it having the $6800 Bang & Olufsen stereo system.
I poured over the Audi S8 brochure (and the interwebs, frankly, and every other resources I could drum up). I looked at other cars, too. Whipping my neck around at every pretty shade of red paint, maybe THAT one, maybe THIS one.
Then, the week before my birthday, I started to contemplate how much money I was spending on having a car.
I've been making car payments since the fall of 1977 - so, 32 years of monthly obligation. 384 months of uncertainty. 11,520 days of worry. 230,400 or so individual moments of being afraid, unsure, or concerned.
I drive 4.6 miles each way to the office. Once or twice a week, I drive 52 miles round trip to the church. Every once in a while, I may run up ten or twenty miles in errands, or to have a visit with someone.
Call it 170 miles a week (last week being the exception with FIVE trips to church).
Those 170 miles will cost a very predictable $35.00 in gasoline and miscellaneous wear and tear on the car. Insurance is another $60 a month.
So, why was I paying nearly a thou a month for a car?
Between the interest cost and depreciation, that's what the Red Rocket was costing.
So, $1.58 a mile.
$7.25 to drive to work.
$164.32 for each drive to church.
$142.20 to visit a friend outside the beltway (no wonder I'm so committed to staying inside the loop).
This was insane. Especially since the math is exacerbated with the stress.
New choices were made.
I just acquired my SECOND 1998 Buick Riviera. Victoria Regina, her name. She has 67K miles on her, fewer than did the Red Rocket. She's paid for in full. She needs some loving labor, but she's pretty.
And I love her.
This morning, as I was running back and forth between the storage locker, the laundry room, VR (as she's now nicknamed), and the mailbox, I kept noticing how much she makes me smile. Like, I am giddy happy smiling.
Giddy. About a car that cost fewer than $4,000.
She doesn't have a snorting V10, Audi exquisite engineering, and she cost less than the Bang & Olufsen stereo.
But, every day that I own her is the opportunity to have something other than twenty fearful thoughts.
Last night, Matticia told me he nearly cried on the way home from work. He had spent many hours yesterday fussing about party effects he's purchased for delivery - and saw a guy trying to sell his bicycle on the street for $20 to buy some food.
I think that's called "realizing one's priorities are a bit screwed up". I don't know anything about that at all.
A few months ago, I was convinced that a beautiful $100K Audi S8 would make me happy. I had been convinced that a beautiful home with a pool and a garage were necessary and appropriate.
Having had a few of those beautiful homes, with rooms I didn't go into, boxes in closets I didn't open, kitchen appliances in cabinets I didn't use, I can tell you I was wrong about that.
I didn't really understand HOW wrong I was until this morning.
Even as I settled into my peaceful little apartment, even as I reveled in the freedom of having a LOT less stuff, even as my stress level unwound - I STILL thought that a gorgeous S8 would do me right. Happiness could rise or fall on whether the S8 had a full leather upgrade, and absolutely was dependent on it having the $6800 Bang & Olufsen stereo system.
I poured over the Audi S8 brochure (and the interwebs, frankly, and every other resources I could drum up). I looked at other cars, too. Whipping my neck around at every pretty shade of red paint, maybe THAT one, maybe THIS one.
Then, the week before my birthday, I started to contemplate how much money I was spending on having a car.
I've been making car payments since the fall of 1977 - so, 32 years of monthly obligation. 384 months of uncertainty. 11,520 days of worry. 230,400 or so individual moments of being afraid, unsure, or concerned.
I drive 4.6 miles each way to the office. Once or twice a week, I drive 52 miles round trip to the church. Every once in a while, I may run up ten or twenty miles in errands, or to have a visit with someone.
Call it 170 miles a week (last week being the exception with FIVE trips to church).
Those 170 miles will cost a very predictable $35.00 in gasoline and miscellaneous wear and tear on the car. Insurance is another $60 a month.
So, why was I paying nearly a thou a month for a car?
Between the interest cost and depreciation, that's what the Red Rocket was costing.
So, $1.58 a mile.
$7.25 to drive to work.
$164.32 for each drive to church.
$142.20 to visit a friend outside the beltway (no wonder I'm so committed to staying inside the loop).
This was insane. Especially since the math is exacerbated with the stress.
New choices were made.
I just acquired my SECOND 1998 Buick Riviera. Victoria Regina, her name. She has 67K miles on her, fewer than did the Red Rocket. She's paid for in full. She needs some loving labor, but she's pretty.
And I love her.
This morning, as I was running back and forth between the storage locker, the laundry room, VR (as she's now nicknamed), and the mailbox, I kept noticing how much she makes me smile. Like, I am giddy happy smiling.
Giddy. About a car that cost fewer than $4,000.
She doesn't have a snorting V10, Audi exquisite engineering, and she cost less than the Bang & Olufsen stereo.
But, every day that I own her is the opportunity to have something other than twenty fearful thoughts.
Monday Mourning
My brother (half-brother, dad's first marriage) died Saturday afternoon/evening of a heart attack in his sleep. He was 53.
He died because of our country's policies over the last thirty five years or so.
Mike (whose real name was Edgar, but nicknamed Mike so as to avoid confusion with my dad) had a high school education, gained at a time in this society when that was enough to get a decent job and raise a family on that income. And, he got both a decent job and a family, working in an auto plant.
Which auto plant was closed some twenty years ago. He then went and got trained on repairing ATM machines and drive through machines, and supported himself and his family working outside in cold Michigan winters, making it easier for people to pull up inside their climate controlled cars and access their accounts without having to deal with the bank lobby.
Until that bank was acquired by another, larger bank and they outsourced to a different vendor.
He and his wife struggled to keep up the property taxes on their very modest house, and of course health insurance was impossible.
Being of stocky stock, Mike had always been prone to weight gain. Between the stress, the cheap food and the lack of care, he developed type II diabetes in his early 40s. Had a diabetic stroke at 47.
Couldn't walk, couldn't work. Social Security fought him tooth and nail for three years on collecting disability, and when his snap-back occurred, a significant chunk of it went to the lawyer.
They had train-wreck luck, but Mike never seemed to begrudge his life.
The last few years, Mike could walk a few blocks. I don't know how much weight he had gained, but I can guess it was a lot.
His death of a heart attack over the weekend was, I guess not a surprise. Without money for health care, without money for prescriptions, without purpose and hope - victim for our having savaged our nation's manufacturing base, beaten down the unions, allowed for megalithic business combinations - he was one of the tens of thousands whose life trajectory was shot down without fault or recovery.
He died because of our country's policies over the last thirty five years or so.
Mike (whose real name was Edgar, but nicknamed Mike so as to avoid confusion with my dad) had a high school education, gained at a time in this society when that was enough to get a decent job and raise a family on that income. And, he got both a decent job and a family, working in an auto plant.
Which auto plant was closed some twenty years ago. He then went and got trained on repairing ATM machines and drive through machines, and supported himself and his family working outside in cold Michigan winters, making it easier for people to pull up inside their climate controlled cars and access their accounts without having to deal with the bank lobby.
Until that bank was acquired by another, larger bank and they outsourced to a different vendor.
He and his wife struggled to keep up the property taxes on their very modest house, and of course health insurance was impossible.
Being of stocky stock, Mike had always been prone to weight gain. Between the stress, the cheap food and the lack of care, he developed type II diabetes in his early 40s. Had a diabetic stroke at 47.
Couldn't walk, couldn't work. Social Security fought him tooth and nail for three years on collecting disability, and when his snap-back occurred, a significant chunk of it went to the lawyer.
They had train-wreck luck, but Mike never seemed to begrudge his life.
The last few years, Mike could walk a few blocks. I don't know how much weight he had gained, but I can guess it was a lot.
His death of a heart attack over the weekend was, I guess not a surprise. Without money for health care, without money for prescriptions, without purpose and hope - victim for our having savaged our nation's manufacturing base, beaten down the unions, allowed for megalithic business combinations - he was one of the tens of thousands whose life trajectory was shot down without fault or recovery.
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