I’ve heard Beethoven’s “Pastoral” Symphony so many times, I sometimes have no interest in hearing it. Today, it’s just what I need.
The older I get, the less the music reminds me of this movie…
… and the more I think of this one.
Mo’ Moanin’ O’er Money
Donny’s repeating his first term economic mistakes. His tariff taxes have done nothing to reduce China’s trade surplus. He’s hurting farmers and making direct payments of tariff money to keep them afloat.
China’s Trade Surplus Climbs Past $1 Trillion for First Time
President Trump’s tariffs weren’t enough to hold back the global export flood by China, which pushed past last year’s record in just 11 months.
https://www.nytimes.com/2025/12/07/business/china-trade-surplus.htmlTrump Insists Tariffs Will Buoy the Economy. For Now, He’s on Damage Control.
The president rolled out a $12 billion bailout for farmers as he makes the case that his policy is working — or will soon.
https://www.nytimes.com/2025/12/08/us/politics/trump-trade-affordability.html
What does economics journalist David Wessel at the Brookings Institute think the Fed is going to do?
The Sewer Saga – Podcast Edition
DJ Debbie D
I like to preview Tom Hanks doing his “Songs From the Back of the Station Wagon” show on Boss Radio 66. It’s Debbie Daughtry’s station, so of course she also does occasional gigs. Like this one from yesterday. It’s an hour of Debbie playing an exceptionally good, eclectic selection of records.
A Day That Will Live in Memory
One reason why I bought a vintage JVC VL-5 turntable, was to play my original copy of this album, on the same model of turntable I used to first play it in 1979. The reason is personal, as one of you knows!
The Sewer Saga – Final
Legally, responsibility for connecting the house to the town sewer, and paying for it, had undoubtedly passed to the Smiths. But my name was on the contract, and it was my money being held in escrow by the attorney, so I felt responsible. I told Mrs. Smith to not worry, and that I would take care of paying the balance.
Next, I called the contractor. He said he had also left several messages at the lawyer’s office, without receiving a reply. He knew his daughter had made friends with Mrs. Smith, and he felt badly about threatening to place a lien on the property, but the payment was more than 30 days overdue. I told him I’d get a bank check for payment in full and he’d see me in an hour.
[It’s worth noting that, back then, I could tell my co-workers, “Something’s come up, I have to leave, be back tomorrow,” without needing to stop on the way out to inform the boss. My understanding is, those days are gone. Employees now have their time tracked very closely.]
After getting a cashier’s check, I drove up to the contractor’s office. He made out a receipt and I used his fax machine to send it to the lawyer’s office. The cover sheet had a scribbled note demanding that my escrow money be reimbursed upon demand. I called the lawyer’s office, telling the woman who answered the phone to look for the fax. I was on my way there, and I was not happy.
First, I stopped by the house to give Mrs. Smith a copy of the PAID IN FULL receipt. It was a bit strange, being at the house again after a few months and seeing someone else living there. Mrs. Smith thanked me and we chatted briefly. So far, everything else with the house was okay.
After the near-catastrophe caused by BankBoston’s underwriting failure on the house I bought, I wasn’t going to tolerate more professional incompetence. With business screw-ups like those, I am not a nice guy. You wouldn’t want to be around me, let alone be on the receiving end.
I couldn’t see it being an honest oversight. It sure seemed to me the lawyer was stalling. Had she used the money to pay bills? Did she mingle it with other funds for a short-term investment?
When I got to the lawyer’s office I made my presence known, loudly. I didn’t care what the lawyer was doing, or who she was with, I demanded to see her immediately. She stepped out from her office, to find out what the commotion was about. I read her the proverbial riot act.
“My wife and I resented your insulting crack about the Smiths being screwed. Why haven’t you returned their calls? Aren’t you curious why the contractor has been leaving messages? He threatened to put a lien on the property! I have paid the bill myself, in full! You have the receipt! Who’s the one looking after the Smith’s best interests? I am!”
I cut off her weak comeback of, “We’re very busy –” “So you must not have time for any one of your clients!”
With my fury receding, I took a quick read of the room. The lawyer had three women working for her, and I could see they were suppressing smiles from witnessing their boss getting chewed out. The lawyer herself was looking nervous, even a bit scared.
I took a breath, settled down, and prepared to leave. I demanded a cashier’s check for the full amount of the escrow account to be delivered to me the next day via FedEx. I was told it was too late for next day delivery, but I’d have it the day after tomorrow. It was late in the day, and I reluctantly agreed. A check was delivered as promised, and I was done with the whole mess that had begun almost two years earlier.