So, you support local music, do you?

Q: Why do bars and restaurants hire bands and host open mics?

If you answered with anything other than "To make money," you lose.

That's not to say that club owners don't love music.  Most do.  But ultimately, they have a business to run, and live music is a way to put butts in the seats and money in the till.  Or is it?

In a perfect world, it is. But there is something that occurs far too frequently, that frustrates musicians and irritates club owners.  It is the presence of The Supporters of Live Music Who Think Just Showing Up and Ordering Water All Night Is Good Enough.  They are like locusts.  They make the bartender refill the popcorn bowl 27 times, while they sip tap water and shred cocktail napkins and create a hell of a lot of mess considering the whopping $1.25 they spend over the course of an evening.

Friends, let me spell it out to you: If you do this, you are not supporting live music.  Supporting live music is about more than showing up.  It's about ensuring that your friend's band is asked back for another show.  It's about financially supporting the venue who is paying out of pocket for your friend's band, so that they might do what they love and you might enjoy the show.  It's about supporting the culture of live music, which includes not just the songs themselves, but the livelihoods of those who are making it happen.

And it's worse than you think.  Because here's a secret you might not even be aware of:  The one thing a club owner hates more than an empty bar, is a bar full of people who create work for the staff without spending money.  You think a waitress likes you taking her table for four hours, nursing a couple of club sodas, and then getting tipped 15 percent of your four hour, three dollar tab?  Do you think the bartender likes you taking up space at his bar?  I assure you, the answers here are no, and no.  And management absolutely considers this behavior when deciding whether or not to ask your friend's band back.

You say you don't drink?  Fine.  Order a couple of appetizers.  Toss in a slice of pie.  In other words, invest in the evening, and in the owners and artists who are busting their asses to entertain you.  Because the support of the eternal water glass is the kind of support all of us in the business can do without.

Toaster Bunny Cheez Whiz, Anyone?

Still this pulsing night
A plague I call a heartbeat
Just be still with me
Ya wouldn't believe what I've been thru
Cat People (Putting Out Fire)--David Bowie

You know, ya really wouldn't believe what I've been thru.  Hell, I'm not sure I believe it, and I have the scars and pony bottles to prove it.  But this isn't that blog.  I'm not particularly unhappy, I don't feel sorry for myself, and I am most definitely not in the mood to throw myself a pity party.  Those things are always BYOB, and the guest list usually sucks.

Nah, I'm just freestylin' here.  When you're bipolar (I am) you tend to have a lot of irons in the fire.  When you're bipolar and poor (I am) it's more like having a lot of forks in the toaster.  Who needs ECT? Zap!  Now, where was I?

Oh hell, I don't know.  I think I was downloading a zip file of vector images for drawing cartoons.  I want to sketch out a few storyboards for the Bad Hare Club, and I lost my graphic artist.  (Whimper.)  And combining thoughts here, how cool would it be to have a cartoon character who transports herself through time and space by sticking a fork in a toaster?  Very cool.  And very likely to get me sued if little Johnny lands himself in the ER playing ShockBunny.  LOL--ShockBunny.  I love it!

Son of a bitch.  Something called Shock Bunny already exists.  Thanks, Google. Not as cool as my ShockBunny would have been.  I could go with SchlockBunny, but then the toaster bit wouldn't make sense.  Ah well.  Moving on.

I have a lot of stuff to do today, and yap yap yapping is not going to get any of it done.  Yet here I am.  Can I blame Jack Canfield, Steven Covey and the like?  Seven highly motivated coaches turned my chicken soup to Cheez Whiz.  My brain is the cracker upon which it rests...  and nobody is paying me money to share all this gooey goodness, dammit.

(If you worked in corporate America during the past 20 years, you totally understand that last paragraph.)

Okay, seriously, I have stuff to do now.  

On Raising a Son

I am the mother of a little boy.

He breaks my furniture, hates my cooking, loves Rabbids Invasion, and drives his big sister crazy.

He amazes me with how tough he is. He melts my heart with how sensitive he is.

He is charming (when he wants to be) and he is discovering a passion for math. He loves music, and wants to be in a band. He scares the hell out of our dog. He intrigues our cat.

He broke into my art supplies and covered the upstairs in black acrylic paint. He gave my toothbrush a bath. In the toilet. He doesn't so much walk as leap, and anything that can be used as a sword, will be.

He is a lot like his dad, but even more like me. So much like me that I worry about him. If you know me, you know what I mean by that.

He considers everyone he meets a friend. To him, the world is a magical place, filled with adventures to be had.

He is four years old, and he is very much his own person. He is my beautiful boy, and in the blink of an eye, he will be a man.

And to those of you who would fault him for his biology; who would replace his boyish ways with "socially acceptable" feminine virtues, who would squelch his passion and energy, and indoctrinate him into the cult of 'all men suck, white men especially," I say, watch out. Because you will have to get through me first.

I Love My God. Yours, Not So Much.

Don't tell me what God thinks.  For the love of, well, God, don't do it.

Here are some things people say that drive me absolutely mad:

"I know now that God must have a plan for me!"
This is something people say over and over when they've been in accident, or survived a scary diagnosis.  Weeping with relief, they are absolutely convinced--and want everyone to know--that God is so enamored of them that He intervened and saved them from whatever disaster nearly took their life.

I see.  So, when my son died, well, it was because God never had a plan for him, so He didn't see fit to intervene in his life.  That's cool.  I guess Rory just was not as valuable to Him as you.  And those six million Jews?  Feck 'em.  God let them perish because he was busy planning on how he was going to save your SUV from skidding off a cliff, and still have time to show up on a pancake at a Denny's in Texas.  Got it.  I sure wish he'd had plans for all those little kids in Connecticut, instead of letting them die in a terrifying hail of gunfire.  But as long as you're okay, that's what really matters.

Speaking of school shootings, here's another vomit-inducing sentiment:

"God was not there that day because we no longer allow him in schools."

First off, what the hell kind of God do you worship?  One that punishes children for the acts of school boards and politicians?  Wow.  He's a real prince among gods, that one.  If that's how He treats the most innocent and beautiful of His creations, I can only imagine what He's got in store for the likes of me.  (But not you.  Because, y'know, we all know He has big plans for you.)

Moral argument aside, there's a pretty big logical fallacy in that one, too.  See, there's this minor little story in the Old Testament called, "Exodus."  You should read it some time, then come back and discuss how God does not go where He is not wanted.  

Moving on, let's try this one:

"You are strong.  Take faith in knowing God does not give people more than they can handle."

Okiedokie then.  Let's pull the records on every suicide in recorded history, and change cause of death to "homicide via demonic possession."  Or does your God just suck at judging what people can handle?  Maybe he should be working on that, instead of micromanaging your driving and health.  Just sayin'.

Okay, rant over.  I realize you have the right to believe in your God, and to speak of him in any way you please.  But be forewarned that if you come at me with any of the above, I will tell you to take your God for a nice long hike, far awake from me and my God.  Because, I do believe in God.  But not the same one you do, obviously.  That's cool.  If you like your God, you can keep your God. (And in this case, that's actually true!)  As for me, I'll keep mine.  I think I've got the better deal.

Easy, Breezy, GOPeezy

There's a lot of fist-bumping going on over Republican Dave Jolly taking the Florida 13th.  I admit, I am pleased he did.  However, I think the celebrations are masking a very real problem for the Republican party: namely, that Jolly won the election by hammering on one theme: Obamacare sucks, and by god you know you want to throw those bums out!

Now, I agree Obamacare sucks, and I too want it, and those who back it, sent to the political trash heap. (The metaphorical one.  Not Capitol Hill.) But focusing on a "your side screwed up" message is no Rx for long-term success for the Republican party.  No, if the GOP wants to not just get in but stay in, it needs to develop and sell a clear, positive message of what it can do for America.  Without that, the doors they open today will be the ones they're booted out of tomorrow.

And therein lies the biggest problem for Republicans.  I have been a registered Republican for almost 30 years now.  (It's true.  Even as a student and a Democrat, I was a registered Republican.  Maybe I knew I'd one day come to my senses, and decided to save myself the trouble of changing party affiliations.)  Anyway, yeah.  Thirty years a Republican, and even I am not sure what our message is.  I know what the extreme right feels about various issues, but if there is a cohesive message from the middle ground, I certainly cannot tell you what it is.

Disclaimer: I will soon be unable to use the we/us/our pronouns when talking about the GOP.  I have made the decision to follow my heart, and register as a Libertarian.  A government that stays out out of my bedroom, out of my doctor's office, and out of my wallet is an idea that is delightfully clear, and close to my heart.  And while Libertarians also point fingers, they generally do it as part of a broader message, that delineates plans for how to do better going forward.

But enough of that.

You won a nice little victory there, Republicans.  What you do with it is entirely up to you.

A Matter of Trusts

Every once in a while I come across a story that hits me right in that part of my gut where political and emotional worlds collide.  I read one today in the local paper.

It goes like this: many years ago, a child was born disabled.  She received a substantial, although by no means out of line, medical malpractice settlement.  Her mother opted to keep her at home, and use funds from the settlement to pay for extensive nursing care.

The money from the settlement was put in a first party trust, with a bank named as Trustee.  Do you understand how trust law works, and what the difference is between a First Party and Third Party Trust?  No?  Don't worry, I wouldn't know either, if I didn't have a disabled child of my own.  So here's a quick description of the two types of trust.

First Party Trusts
A first party trust is usually set up close to the onset of disability.  A child is born or becomes disabled, the problem is discovered, and settlements or gifts from well-meaning family members are awarded to the child. These assets belong to the child, meaning they are used in determining the eligibility of the child for benefits such as Social Security Disability Income, Medicaid, and other services.  By establishing a first party trust, the assets are discounted, and no longer disqualify the child from receiving benefits--but only for the life of the child.  Upon the death of that child, the remaining assets go to the state, to repay all expenses incurred by the state in caring for that child.  Only once every penny has been repaid to the state is the remainder released to the survivors.  And rarely is there money leftover.  

Banks are the most common trustees for first party trusts because the average person simply cannot handle all the paperwork generated by such an entity.  See, because the state has a financial stake in the trust (the money they will get back upon the beneficiary's death) they are quite adamant about what they want so see by way of financial reports every year.  Every penny in, every penny out, every day, every year.  Think about it.  Do you track your own budget to the penny?  If you were audited tomorrow, could you account for that caramel macchiato you had at Starbuck's back in March?  Could you show a receipt?  Exactly. But banks?  Yeah, banks are pretty good at doing exactly that.  And so, they often do.

The bank is in a unique position as Trustee.  They work on behalf of the disabled child.  But they work with the legal guardian(s) of that child.  And they are accountable to the state.  So, not that I'm one to feel warm and fuzzy about banks, but they are doing a bit of a balancing act there.

Okay, so now that we've covered all that, let's move on what most would consider the better option.

Third Party Trusts
Third party trusts are set up when there is enough time, and enough logic, to take into account the ramifications of assets being recoupable by the state.  The parent/guardian of the disabled child meets with an attorney, and establishes a trust, with themselves or a trusted family member or friend as trustee.  This trust can be established with no assets, and remain sans assets for as long at it exists.  However, it can also be used as a repository for assets that are to be used to care for the disabled child.  Grandma and grandpa, for example, can will their home and their retirements funds to the trust.  Mom and dad can name the trust as beneficiary of their life insurance policies.  Uncles and aunts can make financial gifts to the trust on birthdays, Christmas, etc.  Like the first party trust, the assets of the trust are not taken into consideration when determining whether or not the child qualifies for services.  But unlike the first party trust, the assets are going directly to the trust, and not to the disabled child.  They are at no point the child's assets, which means they are not recoupable by the state.

The first advantage to this is obvious: since assets are not recoupable, anything remaining upon the death of the beneficiary is free to be willed to surviving family, friends, charities, etc.  The second advantage?  Since the state doesn't have a financial stake in a third party trust, there is no need for the in-depth accounting required of first party trusts.  Therefore, banks are not needed.  Mom can handle it, or she can ask Uncle Joe to do it since he's a sweet man who's got a great head for business, and would be happy to invest the trust's assets.

Wow, okay.  So that was my brief explanation of the different trusts.  (There is also something called a pooled trust, but I think we'll go ahead and skip that.  Maybe another blog, eh?)

So, What's The Problem?
Politically, I have no problem with first party trusts.  Or shouldn't have a problem with them, anyway.  After all, the disabled child is receiving quality care without having to claim her assets.  If you or I needed care, we'd either get it through insurance we pay for, or we'd go without it, or we'd have to surrender our assets in exchange for care.  Disability is a tragedy, but does it exempt the disabled party from the same rules everyone else lives by?

Remember, I have a disabled child.  So don't dismiss me as a heartless bitch for asking that question.  I'm asking because I need to reconcile my beliefs with my... um... beliefs. 

Now let's ask another question.  Is it fair that a family that is financially savvy enough to establish a third party trust immediately upon the onset/discovery of disability gets all these enormous breaks not afforded to the family that knows nothing of trusts?

On a lighter note, let's ask if I've ever written such a run-on sentence in my life.

So let's get back to what started all this, the story in the newspaper.  It gets more and more complicated, and awful.  It appears that funds in the trust are getting low, and so the Trustee (ie, bank) is now demanding that the child be taken from the mother, and put into a group home to save money.  The mother has retained an attorney, and the case will be fought out in the courts.  The funds for this legal battle?  Yeah, they'll come from the Trust.

So, wait a minute.  The Trust now gets to remove the child from her home, for financial reasons?  What the hell? I get that the the Trust has a legal and moral obligation to do what is best for the child (remember: the trustee works on behalf of the child, not the family) and they might *think* that financially they have to step in to keep funds available for the child's long-term care.  But if the child ends up indigent, she will still receive care, and there will simply be nothing left to recoup.  It sounds to me like the Trust screwed up royally in allowing a prolonged, unnecessary expenditure, and is now trying to cover its financial ass with the state.  As I wrote in a Facebook thread:

It is awful that this is occurring. I would like to know if TD Bank ever, at any point, explained to this woman that there would come a tipping point, where the guidelines would dictate such a course of action as is occurring now. As Trustee, could they not step in and cap annual expenditures on nursing care? Why was this woman allowed to spend so much money on nursing, if it was draining assets to the point that removal from the home became the only option that would satisfy the Trustee/State? 
Somebody, somewhere, seriously dropped the ball.

Yes, that is my first thought.  They really dropped the ball.  They allowed mom to spend a ridiculous amount of money on around the clock nursing, and now, suddenly, oops, that was too much, so let's take away the child?  Way to cover your ass there, bank.

Later in that same Facebook thread, I added:

The Trustee could have, at any point, refused to pay certain expenses it considered exorbitant. Why let it get to such a horrid state? I'm baffled.
It seems a smart approach would have been to push for day hab services, eliminating the need for a huge portion of nursing expenses. There are also dozens of other options out there that are cheaper than nursing care. And I can vouch for the fact that they are good, and able to handle intellectual and physical disabilities. 

The Trustee is accountable to the state, yes. But they work FOR the individual with the disability. Not that person's mother, not that person's best friend, not Medicaid. The person with the disability. The Trust could have, should have (based on the information presented) stepped in YEARS ago, and said, we agree that home is the best option, now let's figure out how much it will cost for the child to remain in the home for the rest of her life. Any number of options could have been presented at any time. 

If I were a friend of the family, I would highly recommend countersuing the Bank, on the grounds that they, by allowing the mother (who is not a professional trustee and cannot be expected to grasp the reality of estate law) to engage such an enormous amount of nursing care, were not, in fact, acting in the best interest of the child. After all, THEY are the professionals. They damn sure should have known the financial ramifications. To rip a child from her home after years of financially enabling such a way of life is, if not criminally negligent, certainly professionally negligent.

So here I am, thinking about what individuals owe the state, and what the state owes individuals, and how we can best serve the disabled, while making sure that individual human rights are not infringed upon, while nobody gets a free ride. Yeah, sounds complicated, right?  Welcome to my head.

If you decide to comment on this, keep in mind that I really am feeling out my own morals here.  Oh, and I'll bitch slap you seven ways to Sunday if you get all sanctimonious on me.  I'm willing to admit I have questions; I'm equally willing to admit I detest those who claim to have all the answers.

The Trainee Badge of Courage

You hear it all the time: "Bastard freeloaders!  Despicable! I'd flip burgers at McDonald's before I'd accept government handouts!"

McDonald's: The Most Embarrassing Place on Earth. Comedian Jim Gaffigan even has a bit about it, how if you run into someone you know at McDonald's, you immediately tell them you're meeting a prostitute, not ordering food.  It is the butt end of every joke.  The food you deny eating.  The job so humiliating that it's the last resort before an EBT card.  Or not.

Those people who say they'd rather flip burgers at McDonald's than go on the dole: Do you think they mean it?

I hope so.  Because, ladies and gentlemen, it looks like I will soon be asking you if you want fries with that.  Well, fries usually come with "that' these days.  I think now it's standard practice to ask about the two apple pies for a buck deal.  Whatever it is, I will soon know.   And I will soon be asking you that very question.  Because when I said I'd flip burgers at McDonald's before I'd accept government handouts, I meant it.  And fate is giving me an opportunity to put my money where my mouth is.

I have a lot of friends who, like me, are conservatives.  Unlike me, they have advanced degrees, and six figure salaries.  I wonder what will happen at the next faculty function or dinner party, when they are introducing me to their friends, and I face the inevitable question, "And what do you do, Brenda?"

And I admit it.  I am not relishing the thought either.  (Hee hee.  I said "relish."  I'm guessing we'll cover that in condiment training.)  But no, I'm not looking forward to telling a roomful of Ph.D's that I'm "...currently working the drive-thru window, but hope to be named shift leader in a few months."  I'm ashamed of having such a menial job.

But why am I ashamed?  I have some pretty well documented health issues.  I easily qualify for SSDI, and could make more money sitting home with my kids than I will make at the poster child of menial jobs.  But I'm not doing it.  I am not asking anyone to pay my way.  I am choosing to flip burgers on any shift that is open, so that I can keep a roof over my family's head, and food on our table.

The only thing a conservative capitalist like me should be ashamed of, is being ashamed.  So here it is:

My name is Brenda, and I work at McDonald's. Can I interest you in our two-for-a-dollar apple pie deal?