Trading

Seems to be the rage of the news feed these days. Let’s take a look at the word.

Trade involves the transfer of goods or services from one person or entity to another, often in exchange for money. A system or network that allows trade is called a market.

An early form of trade, barter, saw the direct exchange of goods and services for other goods and services. Barter involves trading things without the use of money. Later, one bartering party started to involve precious metals, which gained symbolic as well as practical importance. Modern traders generally negotiate through a medium of exchange, such as money. As a result, buying can be separated from selling, or earning. The invention of money greatly simplified and promoted trade. Trade between two traders is called bilateral trade, while trade involving more than two traders is called multilateral trade. “Think Global, Buy Local”.

Barter is a system of exchange where goods or services are directly exchanged for other goods or services without using a medium of exchange, such as money. It is distinguishable from gift economies in many ways; one of them is that the reciprocal exchange is immediate and not delayed in time. It is usually bilateral, but may be multilateral and, in most developed countries, usually only exists parallel to monetary systems to a very limited extent. Barter, as a replacement for money as the method of exchange, is used in times of monetary crisis, such as when the currency may be either unstable or simply unavailable for conducting commerce.

Laissez-faire is an economic system in which transactions between private parties are free from government intervention such as regulation, privileges, tariffs and subsidies. The phrase laissez-faire is part of a larger French phrase and basically translates to “let (it/them) do”.

For me the first knowledge of economy was trading baseball cards. For a penny pack for bubble gum you got a bonus of a cardboard reproduction of a baseball player with all the stats. It was a great advertising gimmick and sold a lot of gum to the dentist glee. Kids would separate players by the teams and bone up on their loot like fantasy football but wanted more. You could trade a ‘Hank Aaron’ for a ‘Mickey Mantle’ on a handshake. Then certain cards became rare and valuable and swapping stopped due to animosity for not getting a square deal.

From my history book, people use to kill animals and eat the carcass and skin the bones for trade for commodities like woven cloth or minerals as a laissez-faire trade. What if the person doesn’t have any commodity to trade? Can a teacher share their knowledge for a month’s rent? Can a musician play for their dinner? Can an automobile be traded for a painting?

You might let your neighbor borrow your lawnmower but would you trade your wife? Would you trade your children? Would you trade your values for survival?

Now trading involves commodity, equity, derivative, shares stocks, planning, strategy, binary options, index, margins, risk management, trends, supply and demand, indicators, inflation, deregulation, etc. but we all use our plastic to trade numbers and calculations against algorithms to acquire our needs and wants.

Are our sanctions and tariffs bigotry on our and others skills? 

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Human Trafficking

It is amazing how masses of people move from place to place. It happens everyday and no one thinks about it.

A century ago people had to walk from place to place. Think of the armies of the civil war stomping up and down dirt roads in the heat and the rain and the cold while being shot at. How did so many volunteer for that duty? If you were lucky enough to corral a beast of burden it could carry you or pull a wagon for transport. How long would it take to walk to Gettysburg?

More recently I look at films and cannot imagine the logistics gathering and housing and feeding all those guys and all their stuff before they shipped off to Normandy beach. The Gulf War, from what I remember from the nightly news, was the time to create the staging area that had to accumulate all those tanks and cannons and trucks and planes and people and tents in the desert on the other side of the world before they could fight.

Bringing it back home, everyday there is a traffic report of highway and byways and detours and constructions and wrecks that could delay the commuters schedule who must find a place to park before taking the elevators to fill the skyscrapers until they empty out and reverse the journey. If the roadway system is not fast enough or the train doesn’t go there or the plane is delayed, you can always hoof it. Since digital transformation or automated transition, we used the fastest available transport checking our GPS.

According to the newsreels, there are many people moving about the globe. They may be looking for a better job or to be near family or move away from danger or just glamping, but as every immigrant learns they have to start all over again once they stop. The usual connection is to find family to help settle to the new area requirements while other times the invader is an alien. With some speculation and trepidation, the new arrivals are assimilated into the community.

Still we group to our clans, tribes and religious beliefs for comfort and safety. How we adapt or quickly the community accepts is the unknown. Imagine a family showing up on your porch in the rain seeking shelter. (Don’t bring up the biblical reference).

As this migration continues the places they land should (humanitarian) provide food and shelter and clothing and health care and safety for the new comers to make them feel welcomed.

Yet the new country may decided they don’t want these ‘outsiders’. While no one acknowledges their fear, laws are written to protect from the unknown.

Maybe no one has noticed we are becoming a police state? Whether it is Homeland Security, Immigration and Customs Enforcement, Special Response Team, Enforcement and Removal Operations, U.S. Customs and Border Protection, Federal Protective Service, Federal Marshalls, State & Local Police and all the others who were initials on the back of their jackets and carry weapons, if your profile doesn’t agree, you might not be accepted.

While the governmental agencies and social welfare associations will attempt to decide who will stay and who must turn around and go back, that is human trafficking. Set up tents and hand out blankets, cook basic staples and hopefully provide porta-potties. This all requires volunteers or hired workers like taking care of a Woodstock festival where the bodies keep coming. What do you do with the children? What do you do with the elderly? What do you do with the sick? What do you do with the pregnant? What do you do with the mentally distressed? What do you do with the troublemakers? What do you do?

And who pays for it?

Did when we ventured out of Africa expect to have chic nuggets provided by women wearing plastic gloves? When we crossed the great divide did we expect the native communities to provide us with warm blankets hand made on looms and buffalo skins after we pushed them into reservations? What did those in Exodus expect to find at the end of the ride other than hope that it would be better than what they left?

Planning a family vacation or the process for an office fire drill is the most for us to understand about human trafficking. Those who also plan festivals and events and games have the experience on how to move bodies from place to place better than most.

Just stop by the beer truck to refresh.

When I moved into this neighborhood, it was familiar to me, but I was a stranger to the neighbors. What did they think of this new guy filling a vacant house with books and records and guitars and God knows what is in those boxes? Started out with a truck backed up on the lawn. Followed by a row of motorcycles parked out front. Then there was the ‘party’. Certainly assimilating into a neighborhood requires cutting the grass and toasting lemonade with the folks over the fence. I certainly was younger and maybe a bit hairier than what they had hoped for a neighbor, yet I had learned the art of being polite and respectful of elders. No one threw rocks at me and I settled into an ever-changing neighborhood where now I’m the establishment. There are more fences and dogs and lights and the prices of homes have risen to a point to keep only a few from buying.

Whether we segregate or integrate is up to us, but we are on the move. Don’t put me in a cage.

Just Another Day

Woke in the dark and stumbled down the hall. Should I stay up and wait for sunshine or lay back down to the British interpretation of the news? I lie back down and await another dream.

A short while later the light is coming up and whoever that woman was interesting. Again the religious trip down the hall and then a yawning fuzzy eyed into the office. Check the windows for awaking critters then decided on coffee or fruit. Click on the lights and sit awaiting the power to show me the way.

Apply dirty laundry for blueberries are to gather, reminded by my little bun this morning. The aches and pains and gases and stretches help get the body to function properly.

The Tummy Temple is still puzzle but I find my way and get back home without being run over by those who don’t pay attention to red lights. It is a reminder of the environment.

The critters are supplied with very expensive grub but they don’t care because it is just a free handout for extended entertainment. It is worth the ticket.

A warm day. A steamy day. A humid day. Not the day that will be conducive to follow projects, as if I need an excuse.

Lunch was a plastic wrapped ‘Italian’ sandwich that was basically a slab of baloney and salami on a spongy bun with a limp piece of green splattered in hot sauce and mustard hoping it will taste better. Even with a bag of potato chips (I won’t advertise the brand) that were too salty and not much more than an addition to the soggy bread, my stomach told me that was not my best choice. I knew that when I purchased it and this is just a reminder of my better judgment.

The sun will set on the front porch and tomorrow will be another day.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bz9JmpULP3o

Grotesque Curiosity

Why is it that when someone dies, we want to know how the deceased bought the farm?

The details of death fascinate us. Have we seen to many NCIS shows? Do we need to berate the bereaved about the pain and suffering of the corpse?

There seems that there are many methods to the grim reaper and we will all meet our maker in one form or another, but knowing our friend or acquaintance struggled in agony or met a fearful fate put a period on their history or just a morbid fascination we don’t need to know?

Do we need to gossip about the passed with speculations on who, what and why? Is our foible fantasy better than realizing what life is all about?

Every day the obits will list the dead with an address or member of a church or club and those in the family who left before and those who remand. That is about it.

If you personally knew the person you will probably already have an idea of demise. If not, why should you care?

It is up to family or friends or community to depose of the carcass while everyone else can speculate on an unknown history like some mystery novel not written.

Do we have the same grotesque curiosity about the animal who died to feed us? Do we talk of the unborn child?

Hide & Seek

An update on the latest Tummy Temple activities is chaos. Dish detergent? Over in the dog food aisle? Corn starch? Try the chips aisle. Olive Oil? Oh, maybe over there in the paper towels or by the doughnuts or have your checked the produce section?

I don’t blame my usual faces for they appear as confused as those pushing wire carts staring at the signs in confusion. A piece of paper hangs from the former greeting card aisle for they are scattered in several places directing the new moving crew to place a new shelf and arrange old products in a new space all the while the ‘customer’ weaves between the reconstruction.

All the while, being the constant adventurer, I ventured into other ‘big box’ stores and found similar confusion. Restocking seems to be a problem so while people in blue or red t-shirts wander around carts block the aisles and cardboard boxes overflow with product but there is more stacked up on the floor and the racks are full and no one seems interested in helping the customer (I want to be pampered) and it is another day of grabbing what you think will work for you and then standing in line for some uninterested person to take your money and asking if you’d like a ‘super discount card that will only cost you with mysterious fees and email reminders of things you don’t want’. Everything comes in plastic bags?

Tomorrow I will saddle up and travel my route to the Tummy Temple hoping the blue flashing lights are not out front as today and search through the confusion for a basket full of blueberries, p-nuts, seed and beer. Whatever is available is what I get to choose for I don’t have to grow it or go out and gather it other than coming to this large brick building with a flat roof that leaks and always has.

Until I grow my own and sew my own I’ll have to venture into the capitalist world of consumerism and adapt to what America has to offer.

Wait until tomorrow!

Pamper

We love to be pampered. Soft powder, bubble bath, scented candles; hot tubs, silk sheets, etc. are all methods of being pampered. It is what taking vacations are all about. It is what you should feel when you dine out or check into a hotel.

We want to feel special and pampering does that. All the illustrations of kings and queens show pampering from being fed grapes to entertained by veiled dancers or fanned by Nubian beauties while drifting down the Nile.

This maybe the normal activities for the rich and famous, but for us poor smucks we save up our savings to take that special vacation to the mountains or the oceans to be pampered.

These are not trips to family outings or working conventions but just hedonistic luxurious pleasure. It is about being personally pampered. It makes you feel ‘special’.

The downside for most of us is the bubble pops and we get back to our humdrum routines of laundry, oil changes, vacuuming, diaper changes, yard work, and seeking out the perfect present for your 2^nd cousin once removed wedding.

There still can be date nights but the delivery pizza is cold or late night bubble baths interrupted by your cat, but to release yourself to someone else to take ultimate attention to your and your wild whims is pampering.

Do the people pampering you understand that?

There are many people in the hospitality industry who clean up after your mess and serve you for minimum wage. The driver who lifts your overstuffed bag into the trunk or the wait person who forgets your drink request or the grocery bagger who doesn’t ask ‘paper’ or ‘plastic’, are they pampering you?

Think about the sales person who rattles off the spiel trying to get you to sign on the dotted line. Do you feel they that your best interest in mind? The doctor who looks at your chart and then sends you off not sure if you feel better or now. Do you feel pampered? The politician who promises the world will be better but then forgets your name except to ask for another check. How does that make you feel?

There is so much ‘customer service’ we interact with from the coffee barista to the local protection service do you feel pampered? All of these people are ‘public servants’ hired to make use feel special. We shouldn’t fear them or abuse them for their job is to serve you to the best of their trained ability.

It is a difficult act to make someone else feel good. We get associated with our special other because they pamper use either by scratching our back or bringing home flowers. Should going out to buy a burger make your feel the same way?

Certainly it is hard to call a number and get a rebuff over and over without remembering the next call might just be the one (like the roulette machine). Certainly our service providers have bad hair days and must accommodate for our unreasonable demands.

Remember the client or customer wants to be pampered.

If you do it right, you get a tip.

If you don’t you might just be full of it?

Oh! My Golly Molly! What Are We Doing?

What the heck are we doing? I hear about these sanctions and tariffs and additional fees on steel and al-you-men-e-u-oom, but does anyone know what that means? Of course not, for we are all to concerned on why Melania has become invisible or who will be the Bachelorette pick or if Rosanne will come back as Archie Bunker?

Well from what I hear and read our ultimate leader has decided we (as a country) should fine others who make this metal so we don’t have to buy foreign product and make more American product. 

I won’t get into the geo-political responses or even the tactical industrial mindset but it seems everyone makes steel. The metal is used for everything so we just keep forging the metal and shipping it out as components from everything from skyscrapers to cell phones.

The carbon content of steel is between 0.002% and 2.14% by weight for plain iron–carbon alloys. These values vary depending on alloying elements such as manganese, chromium, nickel, tungsten, and so on. Basically, steel is an iron-carbon alloy that does not undergo eutectic reaction. In contrast, cast iron does undergo eutectic reaction. Too little carbon content leaves (pure) iron quite soft, ductile, and weak. Carbon contents higher than those of steel make a brittle alloy commonly called pig iron. While iron alloyed with carbon is called carbon steel, alloy steel is steel to which other alloying elements have been intentionally added to modify the characteristics of steel. Common alloying elements include: manganese, nickel, chromium, molybdenum, boron, titanium, vanadium, tungsten, cobalt, and niobium. Additional elements are also important in steel: phosphorus, sulfur, silicon, and traces of oxygen, nitrogen, and copper, that are most frequently considered undesirable.

Plain carbon-iron alloys with a higher than 2.1% carbon content are known as cast iron. With modern steelmaking techniques such as powder metal forming, it is possible to make very high-carbon (and other alloy material) steels, but such are not common. Cast iron is not malleable even when hot, but casting can form it as it has a lower melting point than steel and good castability properties. Certain compositions of cast iron, while retaining the economies of melting and casting, can be heat treated after casting to make malleable iron or ductile iron objects. Steel is distinguishable from wrought iron (now largely obsolete), which may contain a small amount of carbon but large amounts of slag.

I know, I wasn’t paying attention in chemistry class either and could not tell you the periodic table, but someone was or the Chinese couldn’t have figured they could take all our recycling, mix it with their steel and sell it back to us for a cheaper price (and quality).

So the price of metal will be going up, but that included beer cans. Most of what I eat and drink comes out of cans and while I am a good recycler my substance budget will be going up. I guess I could cut back or buy the premium beer?  Can they bottle beer in plastic?

My ponies are welded metal tubes but hopefully they will last while this tissy fit goes on. I hope I have enough hammers and screwdrivers and nails to last awhile. Hope I don’t need braces.

Everything that uses metal, and that is EVERYTHING, will increase in price and probably the NASCAR drivers won’t wreck as often?

Maybe Detroit (or Cincinnati or Omaha or wherever they make cars) will cut back on production or fewer models? Maybe guitars will use plastic tuners? Maybe the farmer can make the John Deer last another year and coins will disappear?  Velcro can replace belt buckles and airplanes can be fiberglass around wooden frames.

Maybe WAR will become too expensive since guns and tanks and cannons and bullets are made out of metal?