Our Economy: An Argument for Graduate School

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Or travel to a third world country whose currency whose currency is even less valuable than our own.  What a hell of a time to enter the job market.

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Anyone? Anyone? Bernanke? Anyone?

St. Patrick’s Day

I was in fourth grade and it was a regular morning. My father dropped us off at school. As we pulled up to the curb, my brother shouted “Wait. It’s St. Patrick’s Day.” I looked down and found myself not to be wearing anything green. The design on my 1994 World Cup USA t shirt had no green at all –just red white and blue. It was the fate I deserved for wearing soccer apparel. My brother had no green either. Well he had a little bit; his white socks had those green rings around the ankles. But that was useless. Everybody knows that on St. Patrick’s Day, if the green is not blatantly visible, it serves no purpose at all. The pinching nine year old sees what he sees. Green concealed has the value of periwinkle exposed. “Dad,” we said, “We need something green. Quick.” He looked around as other parents dropped off their children, as the bell approached. His truck was green, but it was a large truck and seemed somewhat cumbersome for the function in mind. There was a green-handled multi-purpose tool in the glove box, but it appeared unwearable and could have been easily construed as a weapon. There was a button at the bottom of his brief case that said “Kiss Me I’m Drunk,” at first glance perfect, but that kind of message was lost on a fourth grader. And finally there was his wallet. He opened it, flipped through the bills, the fifties, twenties, tens, and fives, before coming to the end. He came to a single one dollar bill and he took it out and he ripped it in half, right across George Washington’s face. “Find some tape,” he said, handing my brother “THE UNITED STA” and me “TES OF AMERICA” side. So we did, we found some tape. And we wore our fifty cents proudly. Pointing out that our green was not only green, but expensive. It was more valuable than a sticker or a hat or sweatpants. And after school we taped that dollar bill back together. We did so expertly. With scotch tape from one of those black plastic refillable scotch tape rollers. We taped that bill back together with precision. But every vending machine in the neighborhood spat it out.