Tales & Trails of a Traveling Wiseguy

Today's Thursday so it's time for #TBT: Throw-Back Thursday. ...Wait, are people still doing TBTs? Or is #TBT now a TBT thing itself? 😅\

Today's #TBT is my elementary school playground and how it changed over the years. Although I only attended that school for 3 years I remember the playground very well. ...Not just because back then, in the 3rd through 5th grades years seemed to stretch on forever— 3rd grade spanned more than 10% of my life up to that point!— but also because the school was close to home and its playground was a place I visited on weekends, during summers, and even for a few years afterward.

The earliest version of the playground had some metal climbing bars— we all called them "jungle gyms" or "monkey bars"— and a few swings on a blacktop surface. A year or two into my time as a student there the school district moved them off the blacktop into the grassy yard. I presume they figured that having kids climbing jungle gyms over blacktop pavement wasn't a great idea because of how we could get hurt when we fell. And we did fall. But back then (late 1970s) it wasn't a federal case when a kid fell off the monkey bars and hit their head on the pavement. We just got up and shook it off quickly before all our classmates joined in laughing at us.

Moving the playground equipment onto the dirt from the pavement was a good idea, but then the district backslid and put gravel down under all the equipment. I guess the problem was we were creating ruts in the dirt pretty quickly in high traffic areas, like right under the swings and at the bottom of the slide. Deep holes got filled with water when it rained, then who wants to use the slide for the next 1-2 days when there's a muddy sploosh! at the bottom. But it wasn't soft, fine-grain gravel they put down. No, it was coarse, large, sharp pieces of gravel. Back to ouchie city when we fell. And again, we did fall constantly. And again, nobody ever cared.

For many years the elementary school's playground was open. Like, there was no fence around it. There was no fence anywhere. That was cool because we neighborhood kids could play there. The school was our de facto park. There wasn't actually a public park within miles of my home— the community didn't really even have that concept— so my friends and I saying "Let's ride our bikes to the school playground" on a Saturday or during the summer was a totally normal thing.

Then they fenced in the parking lot. Okay, make it so teachers can't escape except on foot? Then they fenced in the playground. The presumptive reason was for the saaaaaafety of the chiiiiiildren. Nevermind that the statistics show(ed) crimes against children plummeting over the years. The TV showed an epidemic of dangers to children, and TV never lies.

I mostly stopped going by my old elementary school when they fenced off the playground. I mean, I still saw it a few times a month because my Boy Scout troop met there (in the multi-purpose room) Thursday evenings. But I was getting too old to want to play on a playground. Especially an elementary school playground. (Give me a playground sized for adults and I was all over it!)

At some point they replaced the gravel under the playsets with wood chips, and then replaced those with some kind of crushed rubber chips. What happened after that? For all I know they eventually removed all the swings and monkey bars because are kids even allowed outside nowadays? Do kids even want to go outside? And do anything other than play electronic games?

Our niece, A., graduated high school. The ceremony was last night.



These are her parents, my sister and brother-in-law, with her after the commencement. (Yes, the background there is the folded up tables of the high school lunch room. 😅)

Some students' families went all-out to celebrate their graduation. Some had huge, loud cheering sections. I saw at least two groups with personalized t-shirts, sporting a picture of the graduate on the front and emblazoned with text specifying their relationship-- "My son/brother/grandson has graduated!"

I teased my family that we were going to paint their car up like this:



Or maybe paint our car, "Are Neice done Gradiated!" 🤣

BTW, last night two of are neices done gradiated! A.'s cousin, B., graduated from high school in Virginia. Family couldn't be in two places 1,000 miles apart on the same day, so Hawk and I joined here, while my mom and youngest sister celebrated with B. and her parents.

And yes, A. has college plans all lined up. In September she's starting at Savannah College of Art & Design.

Tomorrow, March 5, is the 2024 primary election in California. That means today I filled out my ballot and sealed it up to drop off at the ballot box tomorrow. Yes, California is one of those voting rights states where everyone can get a mail-in ballot, no questions asked. Mail-in ballots are much easier for people whose job and or family situations make it prohibitive to carve out time on election day to go to a polling station, wait in line, and fill out a ballot provided only then and there.

Here's a run down of the main things on the ballot this time.

President: I'll assume if you can read this and are eligible to vote in the US, you know what the choices are here.

US Senator: It's a race to replace Diane Feinstein, who died several months ago. Actually it's two races, making it more confusing. One race is to fill her seat for the remainder of her current term, which ends 3 January 2025. The other race is to be US Senator from California for a full, 6 year term.

Both of these senate races follow California's "top two" primary rule, which is also affectionately known as a "jungle primary". Numerous candidates run in the primary, and the top two vote-getters advance to the general election. This narrowing of the field is done without regard to political party, so it's possible the general election could feature two Democrats running against each other and no Republican.

There are three credible Democrats in this race. All three are sitting members of Congress: Adam Schiff, Barbara Lee, and Katie Porter. The leading Republican is past baseball star Steve Garvey. Schiff leads among all the candidates and has spent a lot of his considerable campaign money telling people Garvey is a conservative. Poll watchers agree this seems to be a play by Schiff to shape the results of the "top two" primary by boosting Garvey to be the #2 finisher. If that happens Schiff would presumably coast to a win in the general election, given the overwhelming registration advantage Democrats have in California, versus having to fight it out against a fellow Democrat.

US Congress: Again, a "top two" primary race, though with only a handful of candidates rather than the dozens in the senate race. Here our incumbent, Rep. Ro Khanna, has been doing a pretty good job, so I gave him my vote again.

State Assembly: My district's incumbent Assembly member, Evan Low, is termed out this year and is seeking higher office. He's running for US Congress (though not in my district). I usually don't pay much attention to State Assembly, but this year I went to a meet-and-greet with one of the candidates, Patrick Ahrens. I went into that backyard rally skeptical and left shaking his hand and telling him he'd earned my vote. This is a race where I politely disagree with my friend mithriltabby who posted his usual well-researched recommendations a few weeks ago. Edit: I don't think the opponent of Ahrens's he chose is poor but I do consider Ahrens a stronger candidate than he gave him credit for. I found Ahrens to be intelligent, thoughtful, and skilled at bringing together political leaders across different levels of government to solve challenging problems, like housing for the homeless, that are often dismissed with finger-pointing about who else needs to be involved. Ahrens has a record of not just identifying who else needs to participate in the solution but actually getting them to help.

Proposition 1: There's just one statewide proposition this election. That's a good thing, because such significant measures as statewide initiatives shouldn't be passed or rejected in elections with such low turnout as primaries. In fact, the state passed a law (via ballot proposition 😂) to force most props to the general election. Anyway, this prop is clumsily named "AUTHORIZES $6.38 BILLION IN BONDS TO BUILD MENTAL HEALTH TREATMENT FACILITIES FOR THOSE WITH MENTAL HEALTH AND SUBSTANCE USE CHALLENGES; PROVIDES HOUSING FOR THE HOMELESS." Per the information in the state voter guide it changes up how money under an existing law is allocated, shifting more of it to mental health care, housing, and drug addiction treatment. It also includes a new bond to help fund these. The measure isn't perfect, as my friend mithriltabby points out, but unlike him I support it anyway. I side with The League of Pissed Off Voters in San Francisco who also explain that Prop. 1 is imperfect but voting "Yes" is far better than voting "No" for anyone who cares about the dual crisis of drug addiction and homelessness. I drive past growing tent encampments 1/2 mile from my house several days a week. I'd very much like to see them gone— and not by police rousting the homeless and simply forcing them to move elsewhere, but by us providing a compassionate, superior alternative.

Measure C: This one's a local school district bond proposal. It authorizes up to $214 million in bonds to improve local schools, paid for by a surcharge on property taxes. That may sound like a lot of money, but it's only at most $15 per $100,000 of assessed property value. For roughly a hundred bucks a year I'll invest more in local schools. I don't use the schools myself, nor do I have any schoolkids, but if our schools go up even a point on statewide scores it'll add thousands to the value of my house. So even if I didn't think educating the next generation is the right thing to do (it is the right thing to do) there's still a selfish argument to be made for it.

North Carolina Travelog #15
Back at the hotel - Thu, 21 Sep 2023. 10pm

Today has been an amazing day. We went on several hikes and visited a whopping 10 waterfalls... all within a 30-45 minute driving radius of our hotel. I didn't even realize it was 10— I kind of lost count after 5 or 6— until we got back to our hotel room this evening and I sorted through my pictures.

As deliriously happy as we were throughout the day we also had moments of self criticism. You know, that feeling you have when you're doing something that is amazing and you pause to reflect, "Okay, this is amazing.... Why didn't I do it sooner?"

In our case "sooner" could have been twenty-some years ago when we lived in North Carolina. We lived here. Well, not here-here in the Blue Ridge Mountains. We lived a few hours away in Chapel Hill, NC. I was doing my grad work there, and Hawk stayed with me two summers between finishing her undergrad in another city. We could have made weekend trips out here.

Earlier today I began sharing my opinions about the statewide propositions on the ballot in California. See Ballot Propositions - Nov 2022 - part 1. Here in part 2 I address the latter four props on this November's ballot.

Prop 28: Lock in Funding for K-12 Arts and Music: Gentle No.

A few days ago I wrote blog entry The Problems with Propositions. Prop 28 is exactly the sort of measure I had in mind when I explained the trouble with props that lock in spending requirements. The bill would ensure a certain baseline amount of funding for K-12 arts and music education. To be sure, supporting such education programs is a worthy goal. And because of that it may well pass. I mean, who could be against teaching art and music to kids? But here's the thing: a vote against this initiative is not a vote against art. It's a vote against tying the hands of state legislators in the budgeting process.

This year California's budget spends nearly $100,000,000 on K-12 education, an average of $17,000 per student. For context: yes, that's a lot. And it's a lot partly because the state has enjoyed strong tax revenues for several years. But strong revenues are not a given. During an economic slowdown— of the sort that most economists, business leaders, and even ordinary citizens are predicting will happen next year if not sooner— California's tax revenues fall. Legislators then face tough choices in where to allocate funds. Each voter-passed initiative that locks in funding for one item or another makes the decisions about where to spend the remaining money more dire. Lock-ins for art and music may mean that school programs for language suffer... or perhaps that programs for supporting the elderly or combating climate change get short shrift.

Again, I recognize that supporting art and music education is a sympathetic choice. The only problem I have with this bill is that it's a funding lock-in. That's why I'm calling my position a Gentle No on 28.

Prop 29: Dialysis Clinic Regulation: No.

Patients who need kidney dialysis face dire straits. Shouldn't the industry that keeps them alive be better regulated? Don't be fooled; that's not what this is about.

This initiative matches at least 2 of the 5 proposition problems I described the other day. First, regulation in an industry that is a matter of life-or-death for certain individuals is a deeply detailed bit of policy that  shouldn't be left to ordinary citizens to enact on strict up-or-down votes.

Second— and more importantly— this is a special-interest, self-dealing initiative in disguise. Follow the money to see who is bankrolling this and understand why. Funding comes almost entirely from the Service Employees International Union-United Healthcare Workers West union, which has been fighting with the two major providers of kidney dialysis over workers' contracts for years. This is now the second time in recent years the SEIU has gone to the ballot box in an attempt to gain extra leverage in negotiations. I support unions fighting for fair pay, benefits, and working conditions. I do not support them misleading voters at the ballot box to win what they cannot win in equal party negotiations. Vote No on 29.

Prop 30: Tax the Rich to Fight Wildfires and Climate Change: No.

Ah, Prop 30, another measure with a worthy-seeming set of goals. Wildfires are already a very destructive phenomenon in California, costing billions annually, destroying homes and habitat, and often causing deaths. Who could be opposed to reducing the risk of wildfires? Especially since as bad as they are now they're expected to get worse as a result of climate change.... Which this measure nominally also fights. Who but climate deniers doesn't want to fight climate change? And who better to soak with the bill for all of this than California's highest income citizens, those making over $2 million per year?

Alas, Prop 30 is another case of a moneyed special interest looking to do itself a favor at taxpayer expense while using a noble goal as a disguise. Follow the money and you'll see: a) the measure's main sponsor is ride-share company Lyft, and b) the measure's main expenditure is subsidizing purchase of electric cars and the construction and operation of recharging stations. How does (b) relate to (a)? California recently passed a law requiring all new cars sold be electric by 2035. Lyft depends on a huge fleet of vehicles... which it wants taxpayers to subsidize its contractor-employees buying & refueling.

Look, I'm all in favor of vehicle electrification. And I don't like wildfires or climate change. But this tax-the-rich-to-subsidize-a-huge-company measure is the wrong way to further either of those goals. It's a flawed and self-dealing initiative. Vote No on 30.

Prop 31: Uphold Law Banning Flavored Tobacco: Yes.

Prop 31 is a referendum... Instead of being an initiative proposing to create a new law, it is an initiative allowing citizens to veto an existing law. Many voters feel confused and irritated by so many props each year that they take a stance of "I'm just going to vote No on everything!" This is one of the cases where that mindset is misplaced. With a referendum a Yes vote upholds an existing law and a No vote removes it.

What's the law at stake here? 2020 the California legislature approved, and the governor signed into law, a bill banning the sale of certain flavored tobacco products. Cigarette smoking is a major public health hazard generally speaking, and flavored tobacco products have repeatedly been shown to appeal to underage smokers, hooking kids on a destructive, lifetime habit. It's important to attempt funded by the tobacco industry (again, follow the money) to veto our laws— and to do that voters must vote YES on 31.

The Supreme Court Monday issued its ruling in Kennedy v. Bremerton School District. The case concerned a high school football coach, Joseph Kennedy, who was leading students in prayer at midfield after football games. Lower courts upheld the school district's decision to put Kennedy on paid administrative lead for illegal promotion of religious activities at an official school event, a violation of the First Amendment's establishment clause. The Supremes overturned those decisions, though, ruling that it was a legitimate, private expression of personal faith protected by the First Amendment.

One of the issues on which this case (or cases like it) turns is coercion. Yes, the prayer is nominally voluntary in that students are invited to join; but when it's a school authority figure who's leading it, there is enormous pressure on students to go along. The coach is the boss of who gets to play, in which position, and for how long. He's also a role model for the students. A student who objects to the group prayer— perhaps because he practices a different faith or perhaps is not religious— may find himself denied opportunities to play and ostracized by fellow students who support the coach.

Some cases about prayer in school have so-called gray areas. This case is not one of them. What happened here was, or should have been, black-and-white.

So, how did the Supremes decide 6-3 to ignore the obvious conclusion in this case? Well, they simply ignored the facts of the case. They. Ignored. Facts.

To underscore this point, Justice Sotomayor included pictures in her dissent. Pictures of large, loud scrums of people— not just team members but players on the opposing team and fans from the stands including local politicians— flocking onto the field to join the coach's prayers. Justice Gorsuch's majority opinion characterizing the prayers as "private" and "quiet" is simply dishonest.

Today I read about an interesting tweet that went viral last week about MBA students overestimating what the average US worker earns:

I asked Wharton students what they thought the average American worker makes per year and 25% of them thought it was over six figures. One of them thought it was $800k. Really not sure what to make of this (The real number is $45k)

— Nina Strohminger (@NinaStrohminger) January 20, 2022

Nina Strohminger is a professor at Wharton, the MBA program of the University of Pennsylvania. Wharton is currently rated as the #2 business school in the US.

"Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics"

Most of the viral discussion about this tweet has been about how out of touch the MBA students are and why that's actually common— not just for people who tend to come from affluent families but everyone. My immediate thoughts were along those lines, too. But then I realized that before we even get to debating why this is, we need to look at the problems with the statistics. Professor Strohminger has actually done a poor job here. Five Things:

1. Okay, so one-quarter of the students think the number is $100,000+. What about the other 75%? What threshold fits the lowest one-quarter of answers? What was the average?
2. How many students were surveyed? Small sample sizes yield meaningless results.
3. What efforts were taken to ensure the students participating are representative of the class? (Since so much of the viral discussion is about characterizing Wharton students, or MBA students in general, or academic elites in general.) And were they taking it seriously? The person who answered $800,000 was likely ridiculing the question. How many others might have done the same?
4. Did you specify median or mean? These figures are very different.
5. The "correct" answer is also different depending on not just median vs. mean but also full-time vs. part-time work. Many policy experts would argue a better metric is median household income.

Am I Smarter than a Wharton Student?

FWIW my quick answer was $65,000. That's not correct for the exact question the professor asked. Though even her answer seems incorrect. The Social Security Administration reports that last year the mean US wage was $53,383 and the median was $34,612.

My $65k answer comes from thinking about median household income— a better measure than individual income for purposes of many economic policy discussions. I recall looking up the $65k figure when I was writing about US socioeconomics a few years ago, so that's why it was my immediate answer here. On that metric I was actually very close. According to the US Census (2020) it was $67,521 in 2020. It was higher in 2019, at $69,560. Likely it was $65,000 a few years ago.