Like an aging salmon struggling upstream to return to the spawning grounds from whence he was hatched . . .

Today I, Mrs. Blather, and Female Offspring Unit #3 will be loading up the Expedition and heading north up U.S. 75 into southeastern Oklahoma, a.k.a., Kiamichi Country.  Several years ago I shared some thoughts about this drive in some detail here.

There will be lots of activity over the next few days. One of my sisters is getting married tomorrow. (A happy thing.) Her son, my nephew, is being baptized on Sunday to consummate a commitment to Christ he made at youth camp a few weeks ago. (A very happy thing.) And on Monday I will drive my mom and dad to Tulsa where Dad will have a “procedure.” (A not so happy thing.)

A few weeks ago we learned that Dad has experienced a recurrence of the cancer he had successfully fought off a few years ago. Back then, he had undergone a regimen of chemotherapy and radiation. It made him miserable and when he had finished he told my mother in very clear terms, “I’m never doing that again.”

So this upcoming out-patient procedure will attempt to utilize a laser to burn out the growth or growths. If it hasn’t spread, that will be the end of it. If it has spread . . . well . . . we’ll play it by ear from there. Actually, we’ll play it by heart.

So north we go, carrying with us a strange mixture of conflicting emotions. We’ll celebrate a fresh start and a re-birth. And then we’ll call upon heaven’s grace and wisdom as we walk alongside a father who approaches the end of his race.

Into the beautiful Kiamichi hills.  Where life goes on.

The folks running the show in Washington seem genuinely bewildered that the unemployment rate remains high in spite of throwing hundreds of billions of dollars into “stimulus.”

I can solve this mystery for them.

The reality is that while the government has been tossing out stimulus candy with its right hand, its been using the left (its dominant hand) to wage a relentless war on the only ones who can actually create private sector jobs–businesses.

This war has been particularly brutal against small to medium sized businesses, the sector of the economy which just happens to be the one which has produced the majority of new jobs in recent decades. This is something David Brooks pointed out in his NYT column yesterday. (hat tip, Fergus!)

And today the National Federation of Independent Business released a study which reveals that only ten percent of small businesses have any hope of making new hires in the coming year. The news release also said:

Small businesses grew more pessimistic about their economic outlook in June in the face of weak sales and political uncertainty, the National Federal of Independent Businesses said on Tuesday.

That phrase “political uncertainty” is a tactful way of saying “We don’t know for sure in what new ways our own government is going to be making things harder for us in the months to come so we’re going to just hunker down and pray.”

It stands to reason that if you’re actively creating an environment of threat and uncertainty for job providers, while simultaneously running massive deficits that will require taking more and more money out of the pockets of consumers through higher taxes, they are not going to be inclined to take the risks associated with providing new jobs.

This war began in earnest when the Dems took control of both houses of Congress in 2006. But it shifted into high gear when Mr. Obama took the oath of office.

The elements of this multi-fronted attack have included:

• The strengthening of labor unions–politically and legally. Obama-Reid-Pelosi have taken huge steps to help Big Labor do for the rest of America what it has done for Michigan and the Rust Belt states. That is, turn them into vast wastelands of unemployed workers, abandoned homes, and boarded up commercial buildings.

• The strengthening of OSHA and other regulatory bodies. The Obama Labor Department has sicced OSHA on business owners giving the dreaded agency additional funding and a fresh mandate to be all over employers like ants on a dropped Kit Kat bar. (At least OSHA’s mission hasn’t been expanded to include outreach to the Muslim world.) But it’s not just OSHA, every regulatory agency inside the beltway is freshly restocked with reams of red tape with which to mummify any poor entrepreneur foolish enough to harbor dreams of growing a business.

• The health care take over. Business owners know that by creating another massive underfunded entitlement and the bloated bureaucracies that invariably accompany it the Dems have activated another ticking debt bomb.

• The threat of Cap and Trade legislation. The likely economic costs of the proposed “cap and trade” legislation the Dems keep trying to ram through Congress are so enormous, the burdens placed upon U.S. businesses so immense, the CBO has given up on even trying to calculate them.

• The threat of increased capital gains taxes. If you want to get less of something, tax it. The Cap Gains tax is a tax on investment income. Increase the taxes on investment and you’re going to get less investment in business enterprises. In fact, as the chart below shows, cap gains revenue goes up when rates go down because of increased investment activity, and vice versa. By some credible estimates, the increase in the cap gains tax already locked into place by the Dems will cost the U.S. economy 700k jobs.

• Hidden racial and gender quotas in the financial “reform” bill. There is a lot of blame to spread around for the economic debacle of the last two years. But no two individuals are more responsible for the bad policies that brought it about than Sen. Christopher Dodd and Rep. Barney Frank. So who do the Dems get to draft the legislation designed to prevent another collapse? You guessed it.

Some deep digging into the language of the Dodd-Frank Financial Reform bill recently revealed that the presence of a provision calling for a new federal bureaucracy and host of new quotas relating to race and gender in finance-related companies. It’s a prescription for inefficiency, corruption, and confusion. But for civil rights shakedown artists like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, it’s a dream come true.

I could add dozens of other items to this list. Of course, you must add to all of the above discussion of a VAT tax, a Justice Department that seems to be governed by the values of Louis Farrakhan,  and a general dual vibe of ineptitude and arrogance by our president, and you have a prescription for a siege mentality on the part of American business owners.

When I hear someone on television suggest that the government isn’t doing enough to help our economy, I find myself suppressing the impulse to shout at the screen. We don’t need Obama, Reid, Pelosi and company to do more. We need them to do less. Much less.

Stop this war, Mr. President. Stop the war on American business owners. Do that and the economy will take care of itself in surprisingly short order.

Here’s a fascinating look behind the scenes at the unusual production tricks used to make the 1975 hit by the British group 10cc–“I’m Not in Love.”

(h/t BoingBoing)

The good news is our president managed to meet with the Prime Minister of our strongest ally in the volatile Middle East without treating him like a door-to-door Ebola virus salesman.

Sadly, this represents progress.

We are not privy to the nature of their behind-closed-doors conversation, but I can fantasize. Here’s how I see a portion of their private conversation going:

Mr. Netanyahu: So, Mr. President. Where do you think the first Iranian nuke will be detonated? My country or yours? Or perhaps one of the capitals of Europe?

Mr. Obama: Have I mentioned how much I hate the British?

Mr. Netanyahu: This is serious, Mr. President. Our respective intelligence agencies are in agreement. The Iranians are only months away from having enough enriched uraniaum to build a nuclear explosive device–perhaps several.

Mr. Obama: That would be unfortunate . . . deeply regrettable . . .

Mr. Netanyahu: It would be a catastrophe of the highest order, Mr. Obama. Even a modest nuclear explosion in Tel Aviv could kill upwards of a million innocent people. But what if Ahmadinijad and the Mullahs decide to hit you first?

Mr. Obama: Pardon me?

Mr. Netanyahu: You must be aware that one well placed nuclear explosion at roughly 100 kilometers above U.S. soil would produce an electromagnetic pulse that would knock out your nation’s electrical grid and most of the rest of your electronic infrastructure. It would bring your economy to its knees and might take decades to recover. You would see a breakdown in social order and suffering on an unprecedented scale.

The Iranians and North Koreans have already tested missiles capable of such a thing. Your Republicans in Congress have examined this prospect.

Mr. Obama: My money is on Tel Aviv.

Mr. Netanyahu: Charming.

Mr. Obama: Just relax, Bebe. As you may have heard I have recently commissioned the director of NASA to reach out to the Muslim world through the mesmorizing power of space stuff.

Mr. Netanyahu: Very comforting, Mr. President.

Drove the family down to Austin for the holiday weekend. Mrs. Blather’s brother and his family have a wonderful home in the Lake Travis area that hangs high on the edge of a canyon. The views from their decks offer panoramic 50-mile views in three directions.

The weather was relatively mild and pleasant for central Texas in early July; the food was amazing; my golf (two rounds) was appalling; and the whole long weekend was relaxing.

On Sunday night we enjoyed cool breezes on the balcony and from our happy vantage point took in dozens of fireworks displays simultaneously.

Regular blogging, twittering and productivity will recommence tomorrow in earnest.

I’m freshly back from a bittersweet long-weekend up in the childhood homestead. Dad had a doctor’s appointment in Tulsa on Friday morning so I chauffeured him and mom up.

Did a few little home maintenance and gardening tasks for the folks. Things are the same there, but different. Tomatoes are ripening, but on vines that are being swallowed by grass and weeds. Huge yellow squash plants are wilting for want of water. Still, the old peach tree behind the house is so laden with fruit that the lower branches are touching the ground.

Accompanied dad to a men’s breakfast at their church. The men at the church know about dad’s battle with Alzheimer’s and are supportive, patient and empathetic.

At one point, a man roughly my own age came up to me and said, “Your father is a hero to me.”

“Thanks,” I said. “He’s one to me, too,”

“He’s sneaky,” the man continued. “For years he’s been quietly slipping around helping people all over this town. He never calls attention to himself. He just serves and serves.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “He likes to fly under the radar.”

Sunday lunch was good. The news from dad’s doctor was not. And I’ll be checking on those peaches in a couple of weeks.

Good Father’s Day yesterday. Brunch with the four women I love at a breakfasty place serving colossal portions of carbs and pork bits. This is as it should be.

Later, a long, leisurely workout, a nap, then ensconcement in my favorite chair to watch the U.S. Open. From my cushy throne I was eventually served dinner followed by a slice of homemade coconut cream pie (an Emeril Lagasse recipe). It was astonishingly good.

Now a half-moon of seduction and sin calls to me every time I open the refrigerator door. Alas I’m fasting today. But tomorrow . . .

I have utterly loved being a dad. Of course, the job is different with daughters aged 21, 18 and 16 than it was only a brief decade ago–just a blink of the eye–when they were 11, 8 and 6.

Which is why I haven’t seen the new Toy Story movie. Back in the day we saw every big new release for kids and enjoyed them as much as the girls did. These days? . . . I haven’t darkened the door of a movie theater since the final installment of the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

James Lileks, on the other hand, has a daughter who is in the sweet spot for movies like Toy Story III. He has a sweet and insightful review up over at his blog, here.

As you surely know, the Toy Story movies are about the toys left behind by a boy who has outgrown them and left them behind.

That got me thinking about the toys I left behind. Particularly the ones from my earliest, dimmest days of memory.

The first toy I can remember having was a stuffed monkey. He held a banana in one hand which could be jammed into his open mouth. I wonder if a picture of that little guy is findable on the interwebs? Standy by . . . Ah yes. This guy:

Apparently his name was Mr. Bim. I never knew that. But just looking at this picture I can smell the rubber of his hands and face. It also triggered a memory of sticking his thumb into his mouth. It fit better than the banana, I now recall.

I also remember a Jack-in-the-Box with a crank handle that played “Pop Goes the Weasel” when you turned it. I believe a terrifying clown popped out at the end of the song. It’s a long shot, but I’ll look . . .  Well, I’ll be switched:

That’s the one. That’s some high-octane nightmare fuel, right there.

I remember wooden puzzles with big, chunky pieces. One featuring cars, another farm animals. And I dimly recall a metal whirring top and spun after you pumped it a few times. Sort of like this one:

So what toys occupy the mistiest corners of your memories?

Fascinating blog post over at The American Enterprise Institute site about migration patterns in the United States. The chart above is just one of several–this one showing where recent movers to the Houston area moved from in 2008 (black lines) and Houston residents moved to (red lines).

It paints a striking picture of a mass exodus from blue states like California, New York and Michigan to the relative economic health of Texas. Keep in mind, these pictures are all based on moves in 2008, before the economic crisis really got cranking. These trends have surely accelerated since.

Here’s a similar snapshot of the Austin area.

And my home of Tarrant County:

I am reminded of a conversation I had last year with a friend who works for JPMorgan Chase. He mentioned that he had a new coworker who had just moved to Dallas from Manhattan. The new arrival had mentioned that the word among the Wall Street banking community is that Texas was the best place to ride out the recession.

Of course, there is a reason for that. It is because a majority of Texans don’t vote for the kinds of policies and politicians that are so highly favored by the more enlightened folks in California and New York.

Many of these refugees from liberalism are liberals. Having fouled their own nests with high taxes, unionization, and anti-business regulation, they are fleeing en masse.

By the way, these maps are built with an amazing interactive utility over at Forbes.com. Check it out.

The date nights with Mrs. Blather have been too rare for several months now owing to the twin pressures of book deadlines and financial austerity measures. You know, like the wise financial austerity measures our government has put in place to get the skyrocketing budget deficits under control. {pause for hysterical laughter}{additional pause for weeping)

All the Female Offspring Units had babysitting gigs last night so we decided to break out of our rut and head in to downtown Ft. Worth to try a new restaurant. After a fine meal, we decided to walk around the Sundance Square area which on most nights is alive with lights, live music, and pedestrians.

We heard music in the distance so we followed the sound to a large bandstand surrounded by a throng of several thousand 45-to-55-year-old black women seemingly having a wonderful time. We asked a bystander who the band was and learned  it was The Bar-Kays–a group we both instantly recognized as a 70s B-List funk/R&B band that occupied a branch on the pop music family tree somewhere between Parliament and the Ohio Players.

They brought the funk. Which is a good thing. There’s nothing worse that throwing a party and having the guy who was supposed to bring the funk show up empty handed. (Can I hear a “Good God ya’ll.”)

Aficionados of 70s-era funk will recall that The Bar-Kays gave us timeless classics such as “Freak Show on the Dance Floor” and “Shake Your Rump to the Funk.” We listened for a while but moved on after nearly being injured by a couple of large women who were obviously taking the rump shaking exhortation to heart.

In other words, it was a great date night.

Just a survey of some worthwhile commentary from around the interwebs:

Helen Thomas’ Exquisite ‘Weimar Moment’ Reflects Progressive America–Abraham H. Miller

Erdogan and the Israel Card–Wall Street Journal

Blast from the Past: (Video) The Late Tony Snow Smacks Down Helen Thomas

Israel’s Gaza Blockade: It Works–Jonah Goldberg