A fellow was talking this morning about his expectations for the country after the “depression ends”.  Seriously, I heard it this morning on a financial show while I was working in my kitchen.  Immediately I called for Jim-Bob and Mary Ellen to come listen to the radio.  When did the media definition move from recession to depression?  Do the newspapers circling the drain hope they can salvage operations by hyping disaster?  I can see the folks at the editorial board asking the staff who can perform on TV or radio and then giving marching orders.

Today Larry Summers pronounced the recession/depression over.  He gave a speech and said the stimulus package has shoppers back in the stores.  To my knowledge they haven’t even printed the cash and checks and Obama’s economic team says the master plan did the job.  The Chairman of the quasi-governmental Federal Reserve makes the same claims and astute observers like Niall Ferguson call it spin.  It’s an effort to reverse the psychology the gangster regime created to win an election and then gain approval of the spending plan.  Desperation, wouldn’t you say?

I can always de-bone chickens if my end of the media universe implodes.  Even poor and socialized Americans need to eat and I live dead smack in the middle of America’s poultry industry.  So this is how and where modern western civilization ends?  I fully expected explosions and fire.  It’s really a great time for a man approaching 50 to be considering marriage and a long honeymoon in Savannah, Georgia.  You know, life has offered me few financial rewards and it seems whenever I write about politics and culture the expertise of the Wilmington newspaper’s music columnist is brought to bear judgment against me as a racist.  Here I am, nearly 50, a broken down old TV News Director, with an Irish last name and mixed ancestry from nearly every inhabitable continent and these assailants from the world of bongs and bar bands are firing away.  Next week we may all be in soup lines and their attempts at political correctness aren’t likely going to feed them.  From what I’ve read about the other depression and from what now dead men in my family told me, brawn was the currency of the time and even then it didn’t guarantee a steady income.  Makes me think the soft liberals at the nation’s papers will end up starving.

The weekend promises escape from the political and media circus.  The redhead picked last weekend’s movies.  I’m just about worn out on Meryl Streep and Judi Dench and now I can make a choice of something funny or with those explosions and fires I’ve been expecting.  She has even agreed in a few weeks go see racing with me at a dirt track and baseball is getting very, very close.  She knows the road to Camden Yards and just might enjoy a drive to her native “Ballmore”.  Last year I was there for The Star Spangled City’s St. Patrick’s parade.  It isn’t on the list this year.  The weather forecast is disappointing.  It’s like being home in upstate New York.  We were teased by some great weather last weekend and now a parade day arrives and it’s snowing as I compose this.  I consider the change in weather a slight recession.  Soon it will be summer and there isn’t any reason for depression but then, again, I don’t own one of the last rusting hulks called printing presses. 

I’m just a regular guy from the sticks and we don’t place our hopes in government, mainstream media and local bar bands.  Come to think about it, I’m only ashamed to say I’ve written an entire column without mentioning faith.  The liberal media folks throwing stones don’t have a clue about really important things but then we shouldn’t be surprised.  When the government they put in power is finished stones will be all you’ve got left for necessities like soup and self-defense.  God help them. 

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