Kermit Love, who helped Jim Henson design the costumes for the Sesame Street characters, died today at age 91. Love designed the costumes and characters for Big Bird, Mr. Snuffleupagus, Oscar the Grouch and Cookie Monster and also appeared on Sesame Street as "Willy", the neighborhood hot dog vendor.
Rest in Peace, Kermit.
-- George Carlin
Rest in Peace, George
MSNBC and just about everyone else today reported that the U.S. economy lost a whopping 80,000 jobs in March and unemployment shot up to 5.1%, the highest level it's been in recent memory. Even Ben Bernanke had to utter the "R Word".
We entered this week with a lot of people saying "It's a slowdown, stupid!" and claiming we'll see anemic, but not negative growth in the first quarter. We ended the week with all but confirmation that we are indeed in a recession now.
What's interesting, though, is how the market responded: the DJIA closed slightly off today at roughly 12,600 - up nearly 400 points for the week. What?
I think the recession (which, again, most of us don't fear, right?) was already priced in to the market, and here's the funny part: actually admitting it made the market go up. Now the market is more transparent - traders know what they're dealing with. It doesn't mean that the market is going to stay up, but it does mean that we're now past the denial stage and ready to accept our fate for the rest of the year.
It's like a 12-step program for economists.
By all accounts, we are all suffering. Television and newsprint "economists" say we're in a recession, and point to the rising cost of fuel as evidence. Nevermind that increasing prices indicate inflation, which is sort of the opposite of recession. Whatever, I guess they gotta get paid too.
Economic forecasters five years ago were worried about where we'd be today. No, they weren't predicting the real estate slow-down and knock-on effect in the credit markets. They were predicting quite the opposite - that Baby Boomers' retirement accounts would be hitting all-time highs now, and they would - this year - begin withdrawing those funds, starting a slow drain of capital from the economy.
Now those economists are saying that the recession, or more specifically the depressed stock market, are causing boomers to hold off on their retirement withdrawals.
Whether that means that as soon as the markets pick up again, they'll start the "slow death" withdrawals, I don't know. But it does mean one less thing I have to worry about in protecting my retirement plan. Whew.
I'll admit it, I'm a movie-and-entertainment-industry whore. I'm the "target audience" for companies like Disney, Warner, SKG, etc. I love good movies.
The Coen Brothers, makers of classics-that-you'll-never-show-your-kids as Fargo and The Big Lebowski, have apparently scored another winner with "No Country for Old Men" starring Tommy Lee Jones, taking the PGA Producer of the Year award, which basically translates into Oscar Best Picture awards (if everyone is paying attention).
Meanwhile, Michael Moore has apparently won some accolades with "Sicko", in which he proves that if you fly to another country, you might get better health care if the cameras are rolling. Yadda yadda yadda, top producer for a documentary, yadda yadda yadda. Does anyone really care what Michael Moore thinks anymore anyway? :)
The definitive ballad singer / songwriter of the 1970's and '80's, Dan Folgelberg, died today. His emotional songs "Leader of the Band" and "Same Old Lang Syne" were chart-toppers that had everyone singing in their cars whenever they played on the radio. Leader of the Band was actually about his own father, who actually was a bandleader.
Folgelberg died of prostrate cancer, which he was diagnosed with in 2004, at the age of 56.
Evel Knievel died today, according to his website. Although he was much more active in the 70's with all kinds of high-flying stunts, no kid who grew up then can forget the hype around his infamous Snake River jump.
These were the days when we built ramps out of pieces of plywood, propped them up on bricks, and took our bikes waaaay back and started peddling like mad toward the ramp. More times than not, it ended badly, but we all survived - and so did Evel. That was the magic of it, facing down danger and whether you got beat up or not, ultimately living to try again tomorrow.
Sail On, Evel.
So for those of you who don't know, "Black Friday" is the day after Thanksgiving; it's so named because it's the first official shopping day of the holiday season, and it's the first day of the year that retailers generally make a profit (hence "black", as in "in the black", vs. "in the red", get it?)
Stores open as early as 1:00 AM and for some sales, people start lining up the night before to be sure they get one of the half-dozen available hottest deals.
But not so hot this year. I went looking for a Plasma or LCD HDTV for our family room. Well, by "went looking" I mean I looked in the Black Friday ads in Thursday's newspaper. The TV I wanted - the Panasonic 42" Plasma - was about $1000 at Best Buy. So on the way home from Thanksgiving dinner at Marla's folks, and we drive by Best Buy. At 8:00 PM last night, there were about two dozen people already waiting outside. At least four were in tents.
NO WAY.
So I decide, it's not worth sitting in the cold all night to get $700 off a Plasma T.V. I go home, go to bed, and get up at 9:00 AM - a rarity for me since the kids usually get me up at 6:30 on weekends and I get up at 5:00 AM on workdays. How nice.
Then, this afternoon, after taking the kids to the Kohl Children's Museum and having lunch with some out of town family at I-Hop, I go online to Amazon.com and lo-and-behold, there is a similar quality 42" Plasma HDTV for $1100 - about a hundred bucks more, and no frostbite and exhaustion required.
So I basically skipped Black Friday this year, for the first time in many years. I say "sort-of" because I did order the Plasma at Amazon during their online Black Friday special, which means technically I bought something at a Black Friday sale. But it was from my basement.
Which will soon have a 42" Plasma T.V. on the wall.
It was a great year.
We had a rough start, to be sure. The first 12 minutes of the season opener were enough to put most Cubs fans in the intensive care unit.
But it was the year of TheRiot, Alfanso Soriano, Derek Lee, and Carlos Zambrano. It was the year we forgot about Sammy Sosa. Life was good at the Friendly Confines.
And so it ends with another year of "wait 'till next year".
That last post might have made more sense if I had completed it. As it was, it looked a lot like my previous post on the topic, I didn't really cover anything new in this one. But what set me off was the recent spat of news stories about travellers being stranded for hours on the tarmac, and now this one about a minor who was denied boarding because his name appears on the TSA's terrorist watch list. For the record, the TSA clarifies that "no minors are on the terrorist watch list" - meaning: if your kid's name happens to match a name on the list, he or she is by TSA definition not the person that the list is targetting. This wasn't the TSA's fault, it was the airline who refused boarding to someone to whom the policy simply does not apply.
We also had a recent news story where a mother and child were removed from a flight by a flight attendant. Was the toddler screaming and refusing to sit in his seat, like previous stories? No. Did the mom threaten anyone? No. The toddler was.... talking. Kept saying "Buh-bye Plane." Gave the FA the heebie-jeebies, so she removed him.
So the point of my post below is, I'm not going to let the airlines (A) charge me more for services they don't deserve to be paid for, then (B) strand me with my children on the tarmac, and (C) maybe decide that my kids talk too much and remove us.
We'll drive, thanks.
Twenty years ago this month, I decided that I'd had enough of the left coast and I packed most of my worldly belongings into a 6X6 U-Haul trailer, hitched it to the back of my 1985 Dodge 600 convertable, and got on I-90 and headed east.
Now and then, I like to reflect on how my life has changed since I make that move.
When I set out, I had grand plans to go back to school and study Engineering. Today, I am a Systems Engineer for a top-five investment bank.
My main goal was to settle down, stop partying, and find a real life somewhere. Today, I am married to a wonderful woman, I have a house in the 'burbs and two minivans, and three kids. I'm about as settled down as I think I can get!
I'm not sure exactly what date is the twenty year anniversary of my departure from Seattle, or arrival in Chicago, but it is sometime this month. Right after I arrived in Chicago, I did my first trip "up north" to Camelot. Well, unfortunately that's one thing that's changed for the worst - the residents of Adams County (and namely Rome) gave us campers the bums rush, but to celebrate my first trip "up north", today we're all going to Wisconsin Dells for three days. We'll be back Wednesday, July 4.
Then I'll resume my Disney postings. See you then!
The vocal talent credited with making "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" a number one hit has died, at the age of 68. Hank Medress recorded "Lion" with the Tokens in 1961. The song had been a folk standard (originally performed by The Weavers in the 1950's) but acheived number one on the Top-40 chart with the Tokens version.
The Tokens were the second band for Medress, his fisrt was the Linc-Tones with fellow Lincoln High School buddy Neil Sedaka.
Medress moved into music production and was credited for the success of the Chiffons "One Fine Day" and "He's So Fine" in the 60's.
After he broke off from the Tokens in the 70's, his first solo production effort was convincing a record company executive, Tony Orlando, to handle lead vocals for a band called "Dawn", which was recording a new song called "Knock Three Times". Medress also produced "Candida".
In the 1980's, he was responsible for re-inventing New York Dolls lead singer David Johansen as "Buster Poindexter" and producing his first hit single "Hot, Hot, Hot".
Rest in Peace, Hank Medress
I read HERE that airlines will be trying out all kinds of new fees this summer. Since flyers have previously refused to pay fare increases (simply by not flying), they figure they can slip in a fare increase by charging you for things that you've obviously taken for granted previously, like requesting a window or isle, or a pillow or blanket.
My favorite is the "fuel surcharge". Like they've never chraged you for the fuel before. Southwest doesn't charge a "fuel surcharge". You know why? Because back in 2000-2001, Southwest did what every other airline should have been doing - buying Jet Fuel futures at the prices they were paying then. The contracts only cost a couple bucks each, and if the price of oil doesn't go up, you don't have to exercize. So Southwest was basically doing what every other airline should have done. Why can I say that authoratively? Because every other airline used to do it, until they decided it wasn't worth the money any more.
So insteead, now those airlines are charging you for their incompetence, by charging you a surcharge for something that they always used to charge you in the fare, but now that fuel prices have gone up but customers won't pay a fare increase, they have to charge it another way.
So here's my response to airlines: I'm driving to Orlando this summer. When I check into a hotel, the pillow and blanket that I pay for will not have a "surcharge". And while I'm driving on the tollways, they will not charge me a baggage surcharge for taking my clothing with me on the trip. When I go fill up my gas tank, I'm pretty sure that gas stations won't be charging me a "fuel surcharge" for the fuel I just paid for. Maybe airlines should learn from them.
I was spelunking through the site logs recently and noticed that a lot of people are using the search function to try to find the French version of this site. I understand their frustration, what with "Famille" being a French word and all, I guess somehow it follows that the entire site should either be in French, or at least have a French translation. So, to make sure that this post comes up whenever they search, I am putting the following search terms in to ensure that their search efforts get a hit:
en francais
french site
There. Now that you're here, here is a message that Google Translator told me to give you:
The following blog post violates several of my own personal rules:
1. I will not comment on any current contrived crisis involving the entertainment industry
2. I will not get involved in gender or racial discussions
3. I won't say nice things about Al Sharpton
Well, if you're still with me, I guess you asked for it.
Al Sharpton said today: "We cannot keep going through offending us and then apologizing and then acting like it never happened. Somewhere we've got to stop this."
And he's absolutely right. I am sick and tired of people like Gibson, Richards, and now Imus thinking that they can say whatever the hell they want, regardless of who it demeans and diminishes, and then simply apologize later and it'll all go away. It is time to stop saying "we forgive you." It is time to draw the line.
Here's a story known by few people, even my family. In the late '70's, a friend in High School (in Seattle, WA) introduced me to Ruppert Jones. Ruppert was the #4 batter, the clean-up man, for the Seattle Mariner's. Ruppert had just recently been picked up by the M's to help them get some baseballs moving. Rupe had no family in Seattle, and was friends with my friend from school through a youth program. So Rupe, who had no family in Seattle at the time, offered me and my friend his free family will-call tickets. These were primo seats, about five rows back directly behind the plate. I used to sit amongst the wives and kids of Willie Horton, Larry Cox, Bruce Bochte, Julio Cruz, and Mario Mendoza.
This is all background to the real story. So the point is, for about a year or so in about '79 or '80 or so, I went to *every* Seattle Mariner's game, in the Kingdome. And at every game was a beer vendor by the name of "Bill The Beerman". Bill had a unique ability to get people cheering. It started simply enough, with his trademark beer pitch "Freeze Your Teeth and Give Your Tongue A Sleigh Ride". But soon enough, Bill was a pro-am cheerleader for Seattle sports teams, eventually reaching the point that when he stood up in the middle of a game and did his work, half of the Kiingome would scream "GO!" and the other half would scream "MARINERS!".
This was the stuff of my youth. Bill Scott, AKA Bill the Beerman died last Sunday of complications from Colon Cancer.
Michael and Sharen Gravelle were sentenced to two years in prison for abuse of their 11 foster children, some of whom they kept in cages and made sleep in the bathtub.
This raises an interesting question. What does society do with the really problem children? Years ago, we simply placed them in state-run orphanages and forgot about them, usually until they were released at 18 and committed some crime, and then we put them in prison. Today, society puts them in foster homes. But the foster home system is not perfect, and it breeds these sorts of problems.
The underlying problem in this case is not unique, although it is a bit extreme. In most cases, parents who take in fosters are paid by the state. Once one or two state incomes are not enough, some people take in more. It's not widespread, but it does happen. Then, problems come up. Instead of being income, suddenly children born with crack or alcohol addictions are problems that foster parents must deal with. And they often make very bad mistakes.
I suspect that this is what we're seeing in this case. I'm sure that the Gravelles were honestly trying as hard to do a good job raising their fosters as they could. I would be willing to bet that they ended up over their heads because the allure of more state income for the next, and next, and next child they took ended them up with more children than they could handle. And when they ended up over their heads, instead of offering the children the high level professional care that they required, they asked state social workers what to do. And why not? Foster program social workers should be qualified, right? And they cost a lot less than shrinks. Which is why we saw these derelicts testifying in court, on behalf of the defense, that the "tough love" approach was the best thing for the children.
What a bunch of hogwash.
The Gravelles didn't want to deal with the problems, and neither did the social workers. So they put the kids in cages and went on with their lives, collecting their state booty of course.
I propose that the state foster systems need to adopt a "2 is the limit" rule that takes the profit motive out of foster care. And they need to require better qualifications for their social workers and case workers. And they need to provide better resources for foster parents with children who, by no fault of their own, inherited behavior problems. And they need to take away the licenses and jobs of social workers who tell parents to put their children in cages. And oh yeah, they need to put people like the Gravelles behind bars, not testify in their defense.
Denny Doherty, one quarter of the Mamas and Papas, died today at age 66.
Denny, along with "Mama" Cass Elliot, and Michelle and John Phillips, formed the group in 1966 and broke up in 1968. Several abortive attempts to re-band the group in 1971 and 1982 failed.
California Dreamin' is one of my all-time favorite songs. But few people know that many children may be mourning Denny's death as well... he was the harbormaster and voiced all the characters of the popular T.V. series "Theodore Tugboat". This show was absolutely Aaron's favorite during his toddler years (after he outgrew the Teletubbies.)
Mama Cass died in 1974, at 30 years old, of a sudden heart attack. John Phillips died in 2001. John and Michelle were also parents of other famous offspring - Mackenzie (One Day At A Time) and Chynna (Wilson Phillips) Phillips. The other 2/3 of Wilson Phillips were Carnie and Wendy Wilson, daughters of the Beach Boys' Brian Wilson. This connection between the two 1960's bands famous for their harmonies is not coincidental.
Rest In Peace, Harbormaster Doherty.
Joe Barbera, co-creator of some of the longest lasting cartoon series ever, died Monday in California. His longtime business partner, Bill Hanna died in 2001.
Co-Creator of such classics as Scooby-Doo, The Flintstones, Tom and Jerry, and The Jetsons, Joe Barbera started out as a banker. However his on-the-job doodling led to a stint first as a magazine writer and later as an animator.
Except for the Flintstones, a cartoon that ran prime-time in the '60's, Hanna-Barbera didn't enjoy a great deal of success within the American network television hierarchy. But as The Jetsons took off in syndication, Joe Barbera quickly learned that syndication was the way to go. Scooby-doo continued in Syndication and on Cartoon Network, which purchased Hanna-Barbera through Turner Broadcasting.
Joe Barbera was the jokester of the Hanna-Barbera duo, and his slapstick comedy, simply for the sake of comedy, will be sorely missed today.
Good bye, Joe Barbera.
I intended to write about this some time ago, when we heard that Milton Friedman died. I'm belated because I found myself actually sad that Milton Friedman is dead, which would be odd on the surface, because his area of education and teaching wasn't exactly "every man" land. I studied Milton Friedman as a fresh, gullible Economics student in college, and he had quite an impact on my then as now. He was an economist, a very good one. I needed to figure out how to put my impressions of this man into blog form. After my remarks here, below you can follow a link to information about Dr. Friedman.
I guess what makes Milton Friedman special, as economists go, is his work in "laissez-faire capitalism." This theory of economics insisted on limited government intervention in free markets, and proposed that all bad things would be made good again by shear market force. Essentially, in a pure market-driven capitalist economy, everyone will - over time - do as well in the economy as they can possibly do. We're not talking about unavoidable destiny here, we're talking about toughing it out, being the best you can be, and the market (employer, business, whatever) will treat you the best it can in return. In an odd way, it's fairness taken to a higher level.
In a sense, I guess that's the "every man" angle I was looking for, and a theory that has driven my personal ambitions throughout my life. I came from a somewhat humble economic environment in my childhood, and I have always worked hard to make things better for myself and my kids. In the Milton Friedman world, by being smart and working hard, my lot in life over time was destined to improve. And it did.
The lesson we learned from Milton Friedman is, things will always balance out to the best possible condition that they can be. Dr. Friedman was mostly concerned with economics, but we can apply this to almost anything, can't we? We don't need someone else to have to make things better for us. In fact, if we control our destiny, things will probably get better despite external interference, it just might take a little longer.
Here's more information about Milton Friedman: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milton_friedman
This is one of those blog entries that probably will make all my readers say "Huh? What the heck are you ranting about now?" so hence the Rantings and Ravings category.
The UK has moved to restrict all carry on items in the wake of the foiled terror plot. The US has restricted all liquids, but still allows some carry ons (including electronic devices). Other countries, such as India, have followed UK's lead and several congress people have said that the US travelers should get prepared for the day when no carry on items are allowed on airplanes. I love this idea. You can't get more safe than knowing that every passenger you're sitting next to has the same thing in their clear plastic bag that you do - enough to get through the flight, and that's it.
This has all my business travelling collegues up in arms. What in the world will we do for eight to fifteen hours without our laptops and Blackberrys?
I'll tell you what we will do. Fly. Safely. And maybe get some rest. We need it.
When did it become so important to work every spare minute of the day that even the loss of a few hours in return for a safe trip is a p is a loss? I don't get it. In the olden days, when I flew between Chicago and San Antonio and San Fransisco, it was very simple. You got on the plane with what you needed on the plane. When the plane docked at the gate, you stood up, and got off.
Not now. Everyone has gotten wise to the "carry everything you're taking onboard" trick, so now instead of waiting at the baggage carosel, you wait in the cabin of the plane. Hunched over. While you, and all 350 people ahead of you on the plane, pull their luggage down from the overhead bins and under their seats, get everything organized, and then make their way off the plane. We've traded a wait at a carosel for a wait in the cabin of the aircraft. And some people still think this is faster.
Baloney.
Naturally the airlines have their job to do now. It is also true that in the olden days, airlines were more responsible with luggage and you could be fairly certain that wihtin a reasonable number of minutes after deplaning, you would have your luggage in hand, undamaged and ready for you to use on your trip. The airlines have really messed this very simple concept up, largely because "ramp service" (the airline lingo for baggage handlers on the ground) has been cut continually, starting way back before 9/11. Airlines must now reverse the trend and offer customers better baggage service, or they will lose - because customers will have no choice but to check bags.
So here's how it will work, in a utopic future I envision:
You get on the plane. It takes about 10 minutes to get through security because you and every other person in line has only the items they need for this flight.
When the plane lands and docs, you stand up, and walk off the plane. Within 10 minutes, you're at the baggage claim.
Within 30 minutes (as much time as you would have spent in the airplane cabin pre-2006) you have your bags, and you're on your way.
Sounds like 1975 to me.
So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.
-- Wish You Were Here, 1975
I had an epiphany this week. I was calculating the cost of our upcoming trip to Harrisburg and Philadelphia later this summer and it came to me. Out of roughly $2800 in expenses, the absolute lowest cost, by far, will be gas. Add $0.25 to the cost of gas between now and then? About another $20. We could be bumped out of one of our hotels, and have to stay overnight at an expensive one, and that would dwarf the cost of even a steep rise in gas prices.
So why is the media on a feeding frenzy about the impact of gas prices?
Well, there is one valid point. Your average Joe, who can't afford to take a trip to Sesame Place, much less to his place of employment. That's a problem.
But there's a bigger one. Because regardless of the trip we take, and how much we pay for gas, our prices for food and goods keep going up with the prices of gas.
But we don't care. It's summer, and I think most Americans (besides Joe of course) are just plain tired of the world right now. We want a vacation. Let George and Condi sweat through the summer with Iran and North Korea. Tell us how things turn out. We'll be in Door County if you need us.
Vince Welnick, the last of four keyboard players for the Grateful Dead, died Friday. I had the opportunity to see Welnick at the Dead show in Chicago in the early 90's, prior to Jerry's death. I also saw a Dead show in Irvine, California (my first show) with his predecessor, Brent Mydland, who died in 1990. Vince was 51 years old.
The Dead released a statement:
"Our Grateful Dead prayer for the repose of his spirit: May the four winds blow him safely home."
Rest In Peace, Vince.
Bob Dylan turns 65 on Wenesday.
"How does it feel... to look like an aging hee-haw regular?"
Sadly I just this week learned of the passing of Buck Owens. I was raised on Buck Owens, by virtue of his long-running show Hee-Haw. Hee-Haw, it is little known, was the longest running show ever - 24 years, from 1968 to 1992. It ran in syndication all but the first 3 or 4 years, often against powerhouse shows like Lawrence Welk. One of my earliest childhood memories was asking my mom if, after we made a planned move from suburban Chicago, IL to San Antonio, TX, we would still be able to receive the Hee-Haw show. That's right, I was worried about not being able to watch Hee-Haw IN TEXAS. Hey, I was six.
In honor of Buck Owens, I must post the following song, written by Buck, in his memory. It definately brings back memories for me. Where, oh where are you, Buck?
Down here on the farm the weather gets messy
Laying around with nothin' to do
When you went away, you took my cow Bessie
I miss her darling, more than I miss you
You took off your leg, your wig and your eye glass
And you should've seen the look on my face
I wanted to kiss, I wanted to hug you
But you were scattered all over the place
Chorus:
Where, where, are you tonight?
Why did you leave me here all alone?
I searched the world over,
And thought I found true love.
You met another and
Phht! you were gone.
I know that you loved me, here's my way of knowing
The proofs hanging out right there on the line
When I see the snow and feel the wind blowing
Your nighties hugging them long johns of mine
The noises you made at our supper table
Your habits, my dear, were surely absurd
But how many times do I have to tell you
Soup is a dish to be seen and not heard
Chorus:
Where, oh where, are you tonight?
Why did you leave me here all alone?
I searched the world over,
And thought I found true love.
You met another and
Phht! you were gone.
Remember you phoned me a-sobbin' and cryin'
The dog bit your maw, and drug her around
You said she looked pale and thought she was dying
I said "Don't worry, I'll buy a new hound."
I had six kids and you had eleven
And we had a boy, and they grew like flowers
I wish you'd come back, without you ain't heaven
'Cause your kids and my kids are beatin' up ours
Chorus:
Where, oh where, are you tonight?
Why did you leave me here all alone?
I searched the world over,
And thought I found true love.
You met another and
Phht! you were gone
I searched the world over,
And thought I found true love.
You met another and
Phht! you were gone...
Articles like this remind me how lucky my family is to have broken out of the Mobile Home trap.
While the article talks about squeezed senior citizens, just about anybody at the lower end of society's income range can be a victim of this abuse. The problem is that mobile homes are sold, often by park owners, as a way to "own your home" even if you cannot afford to buy a house. Several variations exist, from what amounts to campers on small lots through traditional mobile homes up to pre-fabbed houses built on rented proprty. The idea is, that while you don't own your land, you own the home that sits on top of it - and that's got to be better than renting, no?
No.
A renter is a renter is a renter. Owning a fairly immovable home on top of rented property is no different. And in fact, as mobile home dwellers are learning, the drive up in land and home prices is causing astronomical rent increases. When these renters cannot afford to pay their rent (or renew a lease at a rate that they can't afford) they are given two optios by the mobile home park owners: haul away your mobile home at your expense, or sign it over to us, and we'll keep it.
The former is not an option to the people who can barely afford to live in these homes to begin with. Moving a mobile home means first, you must find someplace to move it to - and that means you'll probably pay a higher rent rate anyway. Add to that, the cost of hiring a truck to move your mobile home (if it can be moved), packing, changing addresses, setting up new utility services, etc. and it's pretty much out of the question.
And even if they move out of the mobile homes, the park owners usually include clauses in their leases that require owner / renters to maintain their mobile home in working condition. This usually means that the tenant must maintain utiliities, at their expense. Rather than taking on these expenses, most choose to abandon the mobile homes that they own, and turn them over to the management company to be resold or rented. The renter/owners usually do not see any funds from this.
Unfortunately, there is little protection for these people. Legistlation can attempt to protect them, but ultimately the control needs to be placed on the sale of these homes. The dangers and pitfalls of owning a tin box sitting on top of rented property should be clearly disclosed to buyers before they close.
One of my favorite movies is Quiz Show, a movie about the 1950's quiz show scandal, produced by Robert Redford and starring John Turturro as Hebert Stempel and Ralph FIennes as Charles Van Doren. For those of you who haven't seen it or remember it, in 1959 the wildly popular quiz show Twenty One was decimated by charges that contestants were fed answers to questions prior to the show. Several real-life contestants, including Stempel, Van Doren, and others admitted to receiving answers during the show. The show's producer, Dan Enright, took the fall for the shenanigans, even though it was widely known that NBC executives and even the show's sponsor, Geritol, was involved. The show's host and co-creator, Jack Barry, later admitted complicitcy in the scandal.
Recently more information has been published about the scandal, including biographies of Stempel and Van Doren. These recent biographies have cast a further shadow on a once highly regarded movie. Although most people consider even "based on a true story" movies to be entertainment, and thus embellishments are considered acceptable, this movie unfortunately took those "embellishments" one step furher.
At the end of many "based on a true story" movies, there is usually some scrolling text about what happened to the characters after the movie ends. These are generally not considered part of the movie, and thus not subject to embellishment. However, even here Redford heavily taints the careers of Stempel and Van Doren, asserting that Herbie Stempel only went on to "Drive busses for the NYC transit system" (in fact, Mr. Stempel worked his way through college driving a bus and upon graduation worked the rest of his life as a social studies teacher in the NYC School System) and Van Doren lived out his life as an encyclopedia editor (in fact, Mr. Van Doren briefly edited Encyclopedia Britannica and later went on to author several critically acclaimed books inlcuding A History of Knowlege, and How To Read A Book, co-authored by Mortimer Adler.) The embellishments would probably not be so hard to swallow if, in fact, the real characters had not tried so hard (and succeeded) to work in teaching careers.
I guess even the "here's how the true-life characters ended up" credits at the end of movies are subject to embellishments when the characters lives don't turn out the way the producers hoped. I guess going on to become successfull writers and teachers is too boring for most people. Stories of dashed careers and living out ones life in hopeless desparation sells.
I still love the movie, but I'm disappointed now. I think I'll go off and watch Murder By Death. :)
"A lie can get half way around the world before the truth can get its pants on"
-Mark Twain