economy – Page 15 – Hopeful Romantics

Democracy for 99 Cents

In most cities you can find one or two places that are in their own way models of democratic activity. I am not talking about voting, or democratic activity with a big “D.” Instead I am point to the unique qualities of a certain location where people from all walks of life come together on a regular basis.

Sports stadiums were once the obvious examples. But the venues are so large anymore they really don’t lend themselves to the sense that it is all one crazy melting pot of people from mixed ethnic backgrounds and economic classes. In fact, sports venues over the years have become increasingly exclusive, with the advent of skyboxes. Then a notch or two below the sky boxes, sports fans in pricey seats are given access to eateries and sports clubs forbidden to hoi polloi. All while those in the cheap seats are relegated to the hot dog and beer stands or the fast food franchises.

But in cities like Philadelphia there are the steak sandwich joints in South Philly where people from all walks of life stand around, munching foot long sandwiches as hot cheese burns the roof of your mouth and hot steak grease runs down your arm. Be it a hot summer night or a cold winter day, there is a line. Same thing with Titos in Los Angeles. People from everywhere line up until midnight for cheap tacos. Pink’s in Hollywood, has patient lines of hot dog buyers. Immigrants, movie stars, rock and rollers, regular Joe’s, all waiting through the night for their turn at the hot dogs.

South Philadelphia had Levis’ Hot Dogs where the parking lot was a mix of junkers and Jaguars. Businessmen and professionals sat at communal tables with truck drivers, chomping down on what was one of the better hot dogs in the western world. It was more than food; it was a tradition with water stained posters listing the members of the 20, 30 and 50 year clubs, respectively. Parents took their kids and as the tradition had it pointed out what was the oldest working soda fountain in the USA. There they served Champ Cherry Soda, a drink all to its own.

But that is gone, a victim of someone’s idea of gentrification. Levis’ is not the only victim. There are places of similar tradition around the country that have been lost to the franchised world and overpriced storefront bistros. Chicago has its places. New York. Name the city and there is always someone to list the places. Even if the list gets smaller every year.

It has become one of the country’s most popular ice cream flavors and in recent years literally thousands of men who cannot get it up for penetrating and performing online viagra http://www.4frontimports.com/wines/los-haroldos during intercourse. It will not allow medicine to function female viagra pill properly inside your body. Make levitra 40mg mastercard why not check here sure you do not overdose with this generic anti-impotent drug; otherwise, you may experience unpleasant side effects. The good news is that treating hypothyroidism or hyperthyroidism will usually reverse the symptoms order generic levitra 4frontimports.com of ED. But today there is a new model of democracy in action. The 99 Cents Only stores. With locations in California, Arizona, Texas, and Nevada, the store is now the intersection for people from all walks of life. You can thank the economic downturn for that. With the economy so lousy, everybody needs to save money. What better way to save money than to buy everything from food and cleaning supplies, to health aids and reading glasses for less than a buck an item. Often it is the same brands as you would find in the supermarkets or department stores. Often they are not the same brands, but the off brands or the once popular brands you knew from childhood that have fallen into obscurity over the years. Or it is laundry powder from Mexico, something like that.

But with the economy as rotten as it is, the parking lot has taken on a whole new visage. Broken down junkers are mixed with the German and Japanese thoroughbred motors so prominent in Southern California. People in funky threads, mix it up with people who are dressed in the latest fashion. Supercuts meets Umbertos of Beverly Hills, and the thing is no one seems to care. A bargain is a bargain.

So there is a perfect cross section of much of the country, well, Southern California in this case, anyway, pushing baskets up the narrow aisles and plucking items from the well stocked shelves. There are men alone, single women, married couples, dates, winos, and of course the proverbial couple who just moved in together and debate in every aisle over what they need for their new arrangement. It’s cute, really, in an obnoxious sort of way.

But the point is, they come from everywhere to visit any one of what seem like thousand stores in the city. With some of the more affluent shoppers you can determine how new they are to the experience by the way they navigate the store. The experience shoppers tend to breeze through, while the novices stop and examine every item. Why not? I mean where else do you have open access to everything from frozen food to colored condoms? Where else can you find the $20 reading glasses you saw a year ago in the department store for 99 Cents? Tools. Eggs. Notebooks. Toothpaste and furniture polish.

So democracy has returned as the mixed income bargain seekers all wait patiently in the cashier’s line for a recent immigrant to check out their items. Twenty things. Twenty bucks. Plus tax, of course. People pay in cash; people pay with credit cards. People are there who have always needed to watch their budget. And people who had really no budget at all.

The whole interaction is surprising orderly. You don’t really experience the usual rancor you find in a great many Southern California parking lots. Perhaps the economic meltdown has everyone in shock and not in the mood to do battle over a parking space. Talk about shock and awe. But the orderly aspect in interesting all to itself. A true democracy may be messy, but there is order. More importantly there is respect for the other individual, even if it is grudging or even obscure respect. The meltdown, like the larger earthquakes and other disasters hasn’t resulted in chaos and a breakdown in order. If anything, order, like water has found its own workable level. For less than a buck.

Bad Economy–Even the Hookers are Hurting

A year ago the world’s hookers were being pinched by their flush clientele. Now the same prostitutes are feeling the pinch. Life is a lot tougher out on the streets and in the bordellos of the world. The economic downturn is hurting the world’s oldest profession.

In Prague, long known for its post-communist bohemian scene and plethora of prostittues, business is bad. There aren’t enough tourists notes a recent article in the International Herald Tribune. Not long ago, because of its low prices and high number of prostitutes, there were sex junkets to Prague, where businessmen could sow their wild oats for a carnal weekend. But prices are up and money is tight. Some still come to cheer themselves up and to forget about the global meltdown. Just not as many as there was a while ago.

In Berlin, known for its bady night life, the sex business is down by 20%. As for the other cities of the world, one has to presume business is off as fewer men are paying to get off. Perhaps sex is on the increase in dating and with partners. But I doubt it. Sex junkets are special. It is the alternative to golf and other escapist weekends that men use to bond. Sex junkets are for distraction. Sex with spouses and partners require more focus.

As for the good ol’ United States, who knows what this economic downturn will mean, sex-wise. As for the changing of administrations, from a conservative to a more liberal government, often that means added sexual congress. But between all the people whose libidos are reduced by anti-depressants and the depressing state of the economy maybe there just isn’t the sex there used to be. It may no longer be a matter matter of “just say no.” Maybe no one wants to bother.
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The article indicates that the lousy economy discourages adultery. No one could afford that expense of the illicit romance, the wining and dining and the ancillary upkeep. When you can’t afford to go to dinner with your spouse or partner, it’s hard to justify spending money for the sole purpose of spreading the seed. Even dating has tapered off, at least on the grand scale and the big splash. You know the illusion of life would be if the two of you got together in a more serious fashion. Now, with cheaper dating habits, you tend to see what you are getting.

Driving through one section of Long Beach, California, one eyes the hookers working the corners in other desperation, the disease it seems practically dripping off of them. Not to pick on Long Beach, or even Sunset Boulevard, where a similar scenario plays out day and night. I am quite sure most cities in this country have its streets where prostitutes ply their trade between heroin benders and sessions at the crack house. One has to think while driving by that in this lousy economy the usual trade for this layer of girls is unemployed or really hurting for money. Times must be really tough.

Crime must be up here and even among the upper class hookers. On the upper level your pockets get rifled, while here the unsuspecting trick may be lured to a remote spot where he is set upon, beaten and robbed. As for what the higher class call girls are doing, that’s hard to say. Most are probably working. Just not as much.

Well it goes to show that when times are tough, times are usually tough everywhere. No one can escape the belt tightening operation. Most are shocked it all came down so fast. Talk about shock and awe. It’s tough to feel libidinous when the world is collapsing all around you. Tough to pay for sex. Tough, even when it’s free.

A Critical Passing of Cultural Critics

Our best critics are dying. And with it a form of writing and assessment of our cultural has been downgraded to a lower form. Where critics once served to educate their readers and point to new directions in our arts and culture, most criticism today is either boosterism or narcissism. It is a shame, really, because it appears that with the decline in cultural criticism we experience a decline in the quality of the arts.

Within the past couple of years, Hollis Alpert, founder of the National Society of Film Critics, has passed away. John Leonard, esteemed literary critic, has also moved on to another world. Clive Barnes, dance and drama critic, died not too long ago. Pauline Kael, perhaps the most influential of film critics, died a few years back. Vincent Canby. The list goes on.

Others still hang in there, writing quality reviews. Stanley Kauffman remains the literary critic for the New Republic. Erudite and sometime curmudgeonly octogenarian, John Simon, still writes theater and film reviews. Fellow film critic and octogenarian, Judith Crist, still writes and teaches at Columbia University. Likewise, Andrew Sarris.

While a few have inherited the love, concern and at times the erudition of this older set of critics, Rodger Ebert and Manohla Dargis, come immediately to mind, most critics today are interchangeable faces with paste on smiles and clunky writing styles. Where the others had a deep passion for the arts, most critics today are merely hired hands, flogging product and searching for the next rung on the ladder. It is not the passion and involvement that seems to drive them, but career advancement. Most will not and cannot take chances.

Time was art and cultural critics would take the lead in defining a movement or style. They would go out on a limb. They would push the unpopular because they believed it was good. They would denounce works and fight with their creators. Feuds between artist and critic were renowned. For the most part, both gained from the conflict.

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It is unimaginable that critics of the past would deign to even review much of the art that our current cluster of critics tend to praise. Good writing is almost a thing of the past. It is fashionable to laud the middle brow and to deem the wretched acceptable if not great works or art or entertainment. Sad as it may be, it is understandable. Like other media people, there is little knowledge of the history of their subjects. Therefore, there are few reference points. Their analysis, overall is pathetic and short sighted. Writing styles hand out language that is impenetrable. Rather than serve as true critics who in turn advance the quality of the arts, driving their creators to do better, their task is mainly to talk about celebrity.

The presentations are as mediocre on a good day and do little or nothing to raise the quality of the art form. I start reading reviews and midway through I start wondering what the hell the writer is trying to say. There is no real point of view, and if there is a point of view quite often it is singular and simplistic. There is no guts to it.

As for the reviews on television or radio, they come off like promotion pieces designed to send you to the theater, or out to buy the book. There is a tie in between the entertainment industry, the media and the lucky slob who issues forth his McReview. Whether some are rewarded for writing favorably is a point of conjecture. But with so much else on the take, it is difficult to imagine that ambitious souls with questionable talent wouldn’t be susceptible to a material pat on the back.

As I noted earlier, there are still a fair amount of quality books, films, dance, and theater. But given the sheer quantity of what is produced for the market in a single year, the good art represents a slim minority. As for projecting and developing the complexity of human experience, with few exceptions you can forget about that. You would like to think that the torch is passed from one generation to another. You would like to believe that the arts endure and with the changes in society there are advances in the arts. Not in the technology of the arts, but in the arts themselves.

You would like to think that. But then you would be dreaming.

Tex Ritter to John Ritter…Cowboy’s Luck of the Draw

Tex Ritter and John Ritter were father and son, respectively. Tex Ritter was born Woodward Maurice Ritter. Hardly a cowboy name. John Ritter was born John Ritter, a cowboy name, but the son was not the cowboy. Maurice Ritter changed his name to Tex and the rest was history. John Ritter stayed on as John, and the rest was also history.

Both were famous in their own right. Both had successful careers. Tex Ritter was one of the more famous post-war singing cowboys. He made a slew of record albums. He appeared in movies and played on Broadway. He did concerts around the country and around the world. He sang at the Grand Ol’ Opry and appeared on television. He was arguably best known for singing the title song to the Academy Award Winning Film, High Noon. The song was entitled High Noon (Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling). The song too won the Academy Award.

Tex’s voice projected soulful masculinity. He was a voice of the West, at least the West of our fantasies and wishes. He sung about drinking and poker, romancing, the usual cowboy stuff. He made you believe it. He was the fifth person to be inducted into the Cowboy Hall of Fame. He was inducted as well into other Western heritage and performance organizations. The list is a long one.

John was no slouch either. He became famous as one of the three leads in the hit series, “Three’s Company.” He guest starred and appeared on numerous television shows. He was in films. He rendered a remarkable performance in Slingblade, which also won an Academy Award.
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Tex was heavyset. He lived in a different era and appeared to be one not overly concerned about cholestorol or fat content in food. I don’t know if he smoked, but it is reasonable to think he liked to eat and maybe have a nip or two.

John was more of the contemporary man. He was concerned about health. He looked good, kept fit, wasn’t stocky like the old man. He was a nice guy with a good attitude, and it is reasonable to believe he was never abusive to himself nor to others.

Both father and son have stars on Hollywood Boulevard. They are the only father-son team to be so honored, especially for different categories. There was something else they had in common. Both died of congenital heart defects. Tex died thirty years before John. Tex, the stocky guy who didn’t watch his diet, passed away at 68 years of age. John was only 54 when he died.

So what’s this all mean, besides the fact that we should remember guys who were so talented? Guys who brought a little something to our lives. You can live healthy, and you should, but you can still die young. It seems at times if it is in the cards and a great deal of your mortality is simply in the luck of the draw. I though of this while watching High Noon for the umpteenth time and thinking of poor John, as well as his father. I thought about a friend of mine who lived clean and exercised more than any human I know. She is a relatively young woman. Yet she is sick and dying. Her father had the same disease.

I guess you can’t duck the luck of the draw.

Chains of Fools Feed on Each Other With Food to Go

Once upon a time you had independent restaurants that sold good food at modest prices. You also had lousy, greasy spoons that sold bad food at modest prices. So, enter the chain restaurant. There was no gamble there. You were treated to mediocre food at modest prices. The video of the rats running all over a KFC /Taco Bell spring to mind as one of those major exceptions.

The wall-to-wall establishment of chain restaurants was kind of the middle of the road between the win-win and lose lose situation. Restaurant chains could saturate the market with advertisements. Branding was incredible. You may not get the greatest of food, but at least it was consistent. You could go into any Denny’s, Chili’s, House of Pancakes, Applebee’s, Olive Garden and get pretty much the same food as any other branch of the chain. The menus were prepared from a central office. Ingredients were the same and hardly varied.

You could go as a couple to any of the restaurant chains. You could get Chinese Food at P.F. Chang’s or even the Panda Express. You could get chicken, burgers, whatever, and you always knew that the food was prepared if not the way you wanted, then certainly the way you expected. No surprises.

So gradually the chain restaurants moved in and the independent restaurants closed down. Some of the independent restaurants, glorified in highway lore and local nostalgia, should have closed. The chain restaurants were a blessing, sort of, as kitchen conditions were regulated to certain standards. Well, sort of. There are more than a few egregious exceptions.

Now while most of the chain restaurants, with the exception of venues like Ruth’s Chris and Houston’s, are not particularly aesthetic in their ambiance, what with same-same, bright colors and far too often screaming kids, they are still a good places to take a date, run in for a quick bite and run to a movie. You may have forgotten what you ate ten minutes after eating it, but at least it won’t rumble in your stomach. That is a major plus in this day and age. And, if you are planning to have sex later that night, you will entertain less fear of the meal attacking you when you least expect it.

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One most wonder if they threshold for fine dining has dropped so low that most chains are serving what constitutes good food. One most wonder if sheer volume of food supersedes actual quality of food. Silly me. There is little to wonder there.

So now I hear commercials where chain restaurants like Chili’s are offering take out food. They are turning their attentions to the lesser food venues, the fast food and drive-thru eateries. You can now get the same meal you ate at your table with belief in its consistence if not its culinary delight, and drag it back home. Forget the movie. You aren’t going out anyway. Not in this tough economy. That is why God created Pay-Per-View.

To hear the commercial they are, subtly speaking, in a heated duel with the types of fast food chains that actually serve crappy takeout with absolutely no expectation. Yes, the mid-prized chain restaurants are now challenging their lesser cousins for a piece of the low budget market share. The battle is on and soon will rage. It’s a bad economy out there and restaurants are hurting. Every buck won over to your side is a buck well earned. Any day I expect to see the brutally honest commercial, “My mediocre food is better than your mediocre food and it only costs a few bucks more.”

This should be an interesting battle for market share. I am sure other mid-level chains will join in. Conversely, the strategy is two fold. They are not only chasing the drive-thru but the diner that used to frequent chic little bistros and storefronts where the food is pricey and avoidable when there is a different paradigm for date night. Forget the candlelight. When you are short on money and worried about your job, run down to the shopping plaza and pick up some food.

It is convenient. As with the drive-thru’s, you can pull up to a Chili’s and just get it to go. Order it over the phone, and they will give you an exact time when to come and pick it up. Nice and hot. In bags that remind you of the dining experience you either worked to avoid or just left behind. Yum.