HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2000-10-18, Page 5THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 18, 2000. PAGE 5.
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About the fickle finger of fate
Ztie Bonfire of the Vanities, a novel by
Tom Wolfe, is the story of one man’s
. downfall through incredibly bad luck. In
690-odd pages, Sherman McCoy goes from -
being a Wall Street-cruising, Park Avenue
dwelling multi-millionaire stockbroker to a
disgraced and vilified pauper, facing an
endless procession of legal battles.
Near the end of the novel, a reporter stops
him as he’s going into a courtroom for yet
another round and asks him if he has any
advice for the public. McCoy looks at the
reporter through red-rimmed eyes and says
“Yeah. Never, ever fall afoul of the American
justice system.”
I’m sure Peg Bargon would second that
emotion. Ms Bargbn is - or rather was - a
quiet, unassuming housewife living in the
suburbs of Monticello, Illinois when Life
decided to throw her a knuckleball.
It started innocently enough, with a phone
call from a local PR person for the Democratic
Party. Hillary Clinton was coming through
Illinois on a speaking tour and they wanted to
present the First Lady with a little memento.
Which is where Peg Bargon came in. Peg
makes handicrafts as a hobby - paperweights,
shell necklaces, that sort of thing. Would she
have anything in her studio that would be
appropriate?
Peg had just the thing - a handcrafted
dreamcatcher - a small hoop decorated with
feathers, beads and pebbles, which, accordingCanadian policy made in the U.S.A.
The Bank of Canada has been busy lately
raising interest rates and every time this
happens I get asked the whys and hows
of all this. This is not surprising since the word
economists use to describe these changes is
“arcane” which reduced to simple English
means that it is difficult to understand,
especially the American connection.
This interest rate, called the “bank rate” is
used for various purposes but the one in use
right now is to cool off the booming economy
before inflation gets too much of a start. Since
there is a time lag involved in all this, you have
to start early (16 - 24 months early) for the
increase to do any good.
There is, therefore, a bit of guessing in all
this although central bankers would never
admit to guessing. They like to give the
impression of being on top of things, as it were
,and, if there are guesses, they are “educated”
ones.
To see how effective all this is, let me ask
you a question. If you are planning on buying
a house or a car or some other big ticket item
that you are going to finance, how much would
the interest rate have to go up before you
would postpone the purchase ? This is the key
to the whole central bank action for they want
to increase the interest rate just enough to slow
the economy down a bit, not stop it in its tracks
and cause a recession.
The thing is that consumers have become so
used to credit, egged on by the credit card
companies (Will that be cash or credit card?)
that interest rates don’t play the role they used
to. Therefore, the central banks have to
increase the amount of interest rate hikes over
what they used to do. In economic jargon this
is called inelastic demand for credit (just in
case you hear the expression used).
Now the American economy is more
overheated than the Canadian one.
Unemployment rates south of the border are
actually less than four per cent (an unheard of
figure in this day and age) while here they are
to native legend, can ward off evil spirits.
The PR person was delighted; Peg was paid;
the dreamcatcher was given to a visibly
pleased Hillary Clinton. A happy ending to a
minor story.
Right up until Peg Bargon looked up from
her living room couch a week later to see
federal agents coming through the front door,
waving search warrants in one hand and pistols
in the other.
They ransacked her house. They turned her
craft studio upside down. They booked her,
fingerprinted her, grilled her for hours and
even hooked her up to a lie detector.
Her crime? Feather-napping.
The feather in the dreamcatcher that had
been given to the First Lady came from a
Golden Eagle. Commercial use of such a
feather is a direct violation of the U.S.
Migratory Bird law and a felony offense.
Sterling detective work - except for the fact
that Peg’s five-year-old son had picked the
feather up off the ground during a visit to the
zoo. Not that the Fed’s believed that. They
were convinced they were uncovering a large-
Raymond
Canon
The
International
Scene
just about seven per cent. So Alan Greenspan,
the head of the American central bank (and
arguably the most powerful man in the USA)
has had to try to cool off American tendencies
to spend,spend, spend.
Now, when he raises interest rates, this
makes them higher than they are in Canada.
The result? Money flows out of our country in
order to take advantage of these higher rates
and, you guessed it, the exchange rate of the
Canadian dollar drops in terms of its U.S.
counterpart.
Some people would argue that it is too low as
it is, but at any rate the only thing that Gordon
Thiessen, our central bank governor, can do is
to raise the rate here by the same amount as
what was done in Washington.
Do we have, therefore, a case of the
American tail wagging the Canadian dog? Yes,
very much so, but what can you expect when
our exports are booming and a full 80 per cent
of them head south to the U.S.?
The main goal of the Bank of Canada is to
keep inflation under control but, if you
concentrate on that, it means that you have to,
Final Thought
Copy your forefathers, for work is earned
out through knowledge; see, their words
endure in writing ... Do not be evil, for
patience is good; make your lasting
monument in the love of you.
- The Teaching for Merikare
scale bird-poaching operation.
Well, okay. Mistakes happen and lines of
communication get tangled. But how long
could it take a savvy bunch of professional law
officers to realize that a small-town housefrau
who does folk art on the side is not, in fact, a
member of some international underground
smuggling cartel?
In Peg Bargon’s case, five years. And
counting. The Feds have not apologized or
withdrawn the charges. In fact, by threatening
to lay felony charges and put her in jail they’ve
managed to pressure Peg Bargon into pleading
guilty. So far it’s cost her nearly $15,000 in
legal fees and there’s no end in sight.
Well, maybe there is. On the advice of her
lawyer. Peg Bargon is going after the Oval
Office. She wants Bill Clinton to grant her a
presidential pardon.
It would add a kind of ironic symmetry to the
case - since it was a gift to the president’s wife
that initiated the nightmare.
Of course presidential pardons don’t grow
on trees.
There’s a lot of paperwork involved. Peg has
to fill out some 300 pages of forms in
triplicate, not to mention statements, affidavits
- about 300 pages worth in all.
And oh yes - she’ll need io submit to a
‘background check’ by the FBI.
I’ll bet Peg wishes she’d kept that
dreamcatcher. She needs protection from evil
spirits ‘way more than Hillary does.
under a floating exchange rate, let the rate fall
(or rise) to whatever level the markets decide it
should be.
Where do you think the Canadian dollar
should be? Before you answer, remember that,
if it goes too low, it means all the things wt
import cost more and so we are, in effect,
importing inflation.
Even at 68 cents U.S. our dollar is
undervalued. Logic says that it should be
somewhere between 75 - 80 cents U.S. so that
prices are about the same south of the border as
they are here. Right now, as you probably
know, that is hardly the case.
But there is one other thing to keep in mind.
If we follow the current American action in
raising interest rates to curb inflation, how do
you explain what we are doing at the same
time with respect to tax reductions. Both the
provincial and federal government are
reducing our income taxes (due to heavy voter
demand) but all this does is put more money
into circulation. This adds to inflationary
pressures and offsets what the American and
Canadian central banks are trying to do.
Which way do they really want it?
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Bonnie
Gropp
The short of it
A dose of contrition
It begins with a tickle, then a scratch,
followed soon after by several
consecutive explosions. In time, the head
will become a pressurized zone of agony, eyes
bum like candles, tongue grows thick, coated,
mouth dries.
With dread you realize the common cold is
upon you once again.
As a child, falling victim to this ailment was
indeed a common occurrence in my life. I
seemingly acquired a new one two weeks after
ridding myself of an old one. Having later in
life been diagnosed with allergies I don’t know
how much of this played a part in my sniffling,
sneezing childhood, but either way, by the time
I had reached adulthood I figured I had
suffered enough. While there are literally
millions, or is it billions, of cold strains, you
can only catch each one once, so it seemed to
me I had reached my quota.
And yet, I can still count on at least one
vicious cold each fall. This year’s arrived with
inconsiderate haste and little warning last
week. Ironically, it came just hours after a
discussion with a friend regarding what babies
men can be when they are getting sick. Oh, in
my ignorance, it was fun to describe how they
wallow in their illness, talking of their
affliction as if they alone suffer such agony.
Then it was my turn, forcing me to admit that
I am not exactly a brave soul either when hit
with a nasty cold. Part of this may be that 1
can’t recall experiencing any kind other than a
nasty cold, though I suspect it’s more about
relativity. I can relate to how badly a cold
makes one feel, when I’m the one feeling »t.
The first inclination that hits when I get ?
cold is anger. Why ihould I fall victim when I
am a healthy person who takes care of herself?
I try to eat properly for the most part and
exercise moderately, but regularly. I get plenty
of rest. I do my best, tnougi not alw >ys
effectively, to not get over-stre sed. I dnnk
enough orange juice to have a Florida grove
named for me. And I wash my hands regularly.
Yet, there is seldom a cold I miss. As soon as
I see someone sneeze in m; vicinity I know I
am doomed. It is then that the Why Me
Syndrome kicks in. I wouldn’t say I whine
exactly, but I certainly roll over and give in to
my foe.
This time, however, I decided to go on the
offensive. Minutes after my first sneeze, I was
purchasing some echinacea. Though almost as
skeptical of herbal remedies as of chemical
ones, I have heard so many accolades about
this particular treatment I figured why not. I
didn’t have anything to lose except money.
Told that the herb would probably not ward
off my cold, but would lessen the symptoms or
shorten them, I was armed to fight with
bravery. However, the day auer the first
symptoms reared their ugly head, I was more
congested than the 401 at rush hour. Telling a
colleague mat I was not particularly impressed
thus tar with the wonder herb, I was
admonished, “You have to take it before you
get the cold.”
Notwithstanding the fact that that makes
about as much sense as washing the dishes
before putting them in the dishwasher, this was
not what I needed to hear Feeling wretched I
dragged myself home, finding sanctuary on n>y
couch, and sympathy in the form of a hot toady
delivered with love by my hubby, a member of
that gender I had been so callously mocking
just the day be'ore.
The cold wasn ■ enough — now I had to
suffer doses of contrition ^nd humility as well.