Movie Trifecta!

Three movies.  Three days.

Kind of a new record for me!  At least a modern day record.

First up was Tomorrowland, which I saw with my son Benjamin.

I went to a writing seminar last summer that featured the award winning and New York times Bestselling author, Jack McDevitt.  One of the points of discussion with him was about the future direction of science fiction.  He felt like maybe the dystopian, post-apocalyptic thrust of much of our modern fiction. that was so dominating the market place, was finally playing itself out, and that there would be room for a re-emergence of a more optimistic. positive science fiction.

Tonorrowland represents that return to a more optimistic type of science fiction. Yes, there are adversities and warnings, but there is also a spirit that problems can be solved if people are inspired.  It certainly inspired my son, Benjamin.

Well acted and original, with imaginative set design and an exciting plot, I highly recommend this movie for the entire family.  Come and be inspired today!

Hard to believe that the best comedies made now are about college acapella glee clubs.  But they are.  I saw Pitch Perfect 2 with Alison, Benjamin and Doug.  

I am not a big fan of the TV show Glee, especially after the first season, but these are movies are everything that I hoped the TV show might be.

Yes, sometimes the humor is a little crass, but the whole spirit of the film is over-all infelicitous in ringing a smile to your face.   The musical numbers are great fun, especially a sing off in the middle of the film that includes as one of the competitors, the Green Bay Packers.

I had been in a glee club at the University of Michigan, one that had won an international competition the year before I joined.  So I suppose the film hits a little closer to me than it might with some.

I recommend this film to anybody who likes music and laughter.

Let me say right up front.  I'm not fond of car chase movies.  I've seen none of the Fast and Furious films.  But this movie, Mad Max Fury Road?  This movie is the grand exception that proves the rule.

I have rarely seen a movie as fast-paced as this one.  Yet you never lost the thread and purpose of what was going on in it.  The action was intense and close to the edge of going over the top, but never quite doing that.  Within the confines of the world that was created, it made the implausible seem plausible, allowing you to enjoy the film more.

And it was surprising for a movie with so much action, how much heart and soul was at the center of it.  In the midst of so much evil, chaos, and civilization's decline, you still saw the hope and promise of a more decent humanity.

Tom Hardy is very good as Mad Max, but what helps this film really rise to the top is the fabulous performance put in by Charlize Theron as Imperator Furiosa.  If there ever was a part where a woman wins the Best Actress Oscar for an action film, this one is it.

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The box office for the weekend went in the order that I have presented these three fine films.  Overall, it was the lowest amount made at the box office at Memorial Day weekend since 2001.  Tomorrowland, which finished first at 42 million, is being rated as a major disappointment, with the thinking that it should have made much, much more than that (it cost 180 million to make).  Sigh.  Maybe we aren't quite ready for a more optimistic science fiction after all.  But I hope not.  I encourage everyone within the sound of this post to give the movie a try.

Well, at least I know one thing that can't be blamed for the lack of box office this weekend - 

Me.

Betty's Confession

They were seated in the Cooper's parlor.  Sheriff Steel sat on a wing-back sofa, while Thomas Cooper sat in a straight back chair.  There was a large fireplace with an ornate mantle, filled with framed photographs, some of Thomas and his deceased wife, Elizabeth, but most were of Betty, their daughter.  Betty at various stages of her young life, from her being held as a baby, to a year ago, sitting atop a horse, the same horse she rode to an equestrian championship five years ago.  That trophy was at the center of the mantle.

It was clear that Thomas was proud of his daughter.  His wife died a decade ago, and Thomas had been raising Betty alone.  Betty was 13 at the time her mother died of ovarian cancer, just a teenage girl.  But she never was rebellious or defiant as many adolescent girls were.  She never went through a stage where she hated her father.

Alan Steel did not have any great expectations that he would discover much in talking with Betty.  He did not really think she had it in her to kill Rondy, no matter how much the cuckold had hurt her.  Thomas insisted he be there for the interview, and who was he to argue with that?  He had a great deal of respect for Thomas.  For all of Thomas's family standing and heritage, he did not behave as if he was part of an elite that was above everybody else, and could often be counted on to do the right thing, as he had done in getting Dabs Denison his military disability.  And he could not discount the help that Thomas's legal assistant, Ramona Adams, had provided.  If Thomas had common sense, he would do whatever he could to promote Ramona, and help her achieve her ambitions.

Betty came in with a plate of homemade cookies and a pot of coffee.  She offered some to her guest, and he politely took one and nibbled at the corner. "This is delicious, Betty!  Tastes like pecan pie!"  She smiled and found out how he wanted his coffee black with a little sugar.

I'll say this for him.  He certainly does look like a sheriff, right out of central casting, like a cross between Andy Griffith and Tommy Lee Jones.  And he is a nice man, always helpful to my Daddy.

Betty sat down at the end of the sofa that Sheriff Steel was sitting on.  She was petite and pretty, with platinum blonde hair, and wore a brightly colored dress, one that came to just below her knees.  "Now, what can I do for you, Sheriff?"

"I'm sorry to do it.  I know that it just happened, and the grief may be fresh, but I needed to talk to you some about Rondy," the Sheriff said, a look of compassionate understanding in his eyes.

Yes, let's do talk about Rondy.  Let's talk about what a special man he was and how tragic his loss is.  Let's talk about what it's like to give your heart and soul to someone, only to have him prefer to be with another man's wife.

"Of course, Sheriff," answered Betty, giving a reassuring pat to Alan's knee.  "It's a hard loss to recover from.  Rondy, for all his faults, meant a lot to me.  I'll be glad to help in anyway I can."

Rondy had meant a lot to me.  That was very true.  Who else loved him, even when I was a little girl, seeing the chubby little high school freshman, the ugly duckling that would not emerge from his cocoon until years later?  We were six years apart, me just eight to his fourteen, but even then I knew.  This was the boy I was going to love.  Could Christie say that?  Could she have fallen in love with him when he looked like nothing?  When he was insecure and nerdy?

"When did you find out about Rondy and Christie?"  Thomas objected to the question, but Betty swept it aside, with a hand gesture to her father, indicating it was okay, and that she would answer.

"Rondy had grown increasingly distant the last few months, but I thought it had to do with the Compton project.  I didn't know anything for sure until the fight with Gariton became public."

I knew.  I knew form the moment I saw him smile at her, over a year ago at the Dixon Community Awards Banquet.  I knew the way he looked at women when he was interested, and I knew the way she looked at him.  These were two forces of nature that would be compelled to create their own storm.

In a way, it wasn't really Rondy's fault.  When he was in high school, he couldn't get a girl to give him the time of day.  I would have, but I was still too young.  He didn't get his full looks and charm until law school.  And how do you behave when all of a sudden the attention you craved from women is yours just by snapping your finger?

"And how did that make you feel?" Sheriff Steel tried to take a sip of the coffee, but it was still too hot.  Maybe he should have added some cream.

"You're not implying that my daughter was angry enough to kill Rondy, are you, Alan?" asked Thomas Cooper.  Even in his own home, Thomas was dressed as if he was going to court, in a dapper navy blue suit, even a light blue handkerchief sticking out of his pocket in a perfect triangle.  "I really resent that kind of questioning."

"Please, Daddy.  I don't mind answering whatever the Sheriff has to ask.  We all need to do what we can to help him get to the bottom of this terrible incident," said Betty.  "And how did I feel?  The same way I do now.  I was very hurt and disappointed.  We were engaged, after all.  But there was side of Rondy that I tried to ignore, a side that showed that his love for me was not as great as mine.  And as much as that hurt, I had to understand.  We weren't married yet, and you can't hold people prisoner.  You can't turn people into what they're not, no matter how hard you wish it otherwise."

He cut out my heart.  He cut it out and he stomped on it.  He made me feel like my life's devotion to him was worthless.

Maybe it was partly my fault.  I wasn't the 'bad girl'. I did not have a naughty, nasty side.  I was too sweet and giving.  I should have been played harder to get.  But I just didn't have a mean, cruel bone in my body.

At least, I didn't.

They talked more, the sheriff gently trying to find out about the nature of her relationship with Rondy.  Then he had to ask where she was the night of the murder.

"Here, with my father,'' Betty replied.

"I can verify that, Alan," chimed in Thomas.

Yes, as far as Daddy knew, I was home.  But Daddy falls asleep.  Daddy doesn't always know where I am every minute.

"What about Rondy's house?  When was the last time you were over there?" the Sheriff asked.  He was finally able to take a stronger gulp of coffee.

"I hadn't been there since Gariton confronted him," Betty said.  "Well, I did move some stuff out the next day.  But that was it. I gave him his key back the day after that.  I gave it to him when he was in the Honey Dew, at one of his Lunch Bunch gatherings."

I gave him the key back in front of plenty of witnesses.  Well, I kind of more threw it at him than gave it to him.  It was funny watching that waitress, Franny, duck at the other side of the table, as if my flung key was going to hit her.

But Thomas Cooper did not raise a fool.  I kept a copy of the key for myself.  And I had been there several times.  Times when I knew neither one of them were there.  I went there, not knowing what to do.  One time I went into the bedroom and just sat at the edge of the bed, trying to tell if my smell was gone.  And it was gone.  All I could smell was her.  The odor of their sex, the distinct aroma of her sickening raspberry vanilla perfume, hung about the bed. I ran out in tears.

Sheriff Steel didn't pursue establishing that up until that time, she had been pretty much living with Rondy.  That was fairly clear, and there was no need to embarrass Thomas like that.  He could get the specifics on that later if he needed to.

"Are you sure you haven't been there in the last few weeks?" the Sheriff asked.

"No, Sheriff Steel.  I have not," replied Betty, a little uncertain.  Was she hiding something, or not clear in her memory.  Alan wasn't sure.  He was good at reading people, and the non-verbals here were definitely mixed.

"I'm a little confused.  A neighbor said you approached the house the day before the murder.  They're not mistaken, are they?  Did you go there that day?"

Betty touched her forehead, as if a revelation was coming to her.  "Oh, yes.  I thought you meant inside the house.  Yes, I did come there that day.  I intended to return some books and CDs of his I had found, but there was no one there.  I should have known better, that there would be no one there, but I guess I was in a bit of a haze.  I was in a cleaning mood and just forgot about the time."

I was in a mood, that's for sure.  In a mood to break into his house and smear that bed with blood, blood from my own body.

"Did you leave the books and CDs?"  The Sheriff knew that if she did, Christie did not report finding them.

"No.  I took them back with me.  I had thought I would give it to him later," Betty said, choking up a bit.  It was striking her hard, the Sheriff thought. She would never be able to give them to Rondy now.

"Did you notice a box on the porch?"

"A box?  I don't recall."

"Yes.  Gariton had left a box full of things for Christie earlier that morning."

Betty appeared to be trying to recollect. "Maybe.  You may be right.  But honestly, I didn't take particular note of it."

The hell I didn't.  How could I resist Pandora's Box?

"There were some things that Gariton claims he packed in that box that Christie insists she never found.  The missing items included, and I apologize to you both for saying this, but I'm just trying to be exact, some porn tapes, and more importantly, a gun."

A gun?" asked Betty.  "You mean the gun Gariton used to kill Rondy with?  That's horrible!  But, no, I'm sorry.  I don't know anything about what might have been in that box.  Perhaps Gariton lied to you about what he put in there."

My plans changed when I opened that box.  I saw those awful DVDs, including one titled Betty Does Archie. Disgusting. I also found that gun, careful to only handle it with a handkerchief.

I tossed the DVDs into a nearby dumpster.  I kept the gun.

The Sheriff sighed.  "Perhaps he did."  He finished a last swallow of coffee.  It got better as it cooled. 

I saw his car there that night.  I had hoped maybe Christie was with him.  But no such luck.  He was alone.

He didn't seem at first to realize the seriousness of what he was doing.  When it finally sunk in, he groveled.  He said he was sorry, that he should not have let Christie's aggression in moving in on him get the better of him.  He was over Christie and her shallowness, and he wanted desperately to return to me.

Oh, my.  The things men will say at the point of a gun.  Sincere or not, it was too late.  The damage had been done.

I shot him in the heart and watched him bleed.

It wasn't my blood that I covered him with, drenching his traitorous bed.  It was his blood, in his own office.  The office where he had pretended to be loyal to my Daddy.  The office where he had told me he loved me.  It was his blood.

The sheriff got up to leave.  "Thank you both.  I'm sorry to dredge up stuff like this, but we have to check all our p's and q's, you know.  If I have anything else, I'll let you know."

Wait.  He wasn't shot in the heart.  He was shot in the head.

That's right.  I shot him in the head, not the heart.  I wanted to take out the brain that came up with all his cheating nastiness.

And he didn't beg for mercy.  He laughed at me.  He said he was going to marry Christies as soon as she was free from that milquetoast Gariton.  So I shot him in the head, ending his ability to think of such crap.  Never again.

It was his blood.  Leaking from the hole in his forehead. 

And it was his brains, splattered against the back of his chair.

The Sheriff shook Thomas's hand, and then went over to shake Betty's.  But she hugged him instead.  "I understand, Sheriff," she said to him, gently clutching him.  "It's a very hard thing to absorb, but Daddy has taught me, life goes on."

Just not Rondy's; thank you, sweet Jesus.

"You let me know if you think of or hear of anything else, y'hear?"  Thomas and Betty nodded to Sheriff Alan, and he left.

Let you know of anything else?  I think not!  Let you know I killed that cheating bastard?  Hell, no!

But I didn't.  I'm just dreaming.  I wish that I had.  Sometimes, I think I really did.

I took that gun, yes.  But I threw it in the same dumpster as the DVDs.  Who got it from there, I don't know.  It probably wasn't Gariton.  Why would he go to the trouble of leaving it on Rondy's porch, only to later retrieve it from a dumpster?

I don't know, and I don't think I will help the Sheriff figure it out.  Would Gariton pay for a crime he didn't commit?  I don't know.  Part of me doesn't care.  He should have kept Christie on a shorter leash.

But I would like to know who did it.  Not to see them prosecuted, though.

I would just love to shake their hand.

Senseless Deprivation

Do not speak

Keep your silent heart
To the grindstone of revelation

Do not see

Close your shadowed eyes
To the prayerless intentions

Do not hear

Cover your pointed ears
To no longer innocent reinventions

Do not taste

Insulate your granulated tongue
To a spicemint sensation

Do not feel

Glove your tender fingers
To  be lacking infused appreciation

You do not know
You do not care
Your muted senses
You speak see hear taste feel no more

Making it to Carnegie Hall

I made it to Carnegie Hall!

Yes, I performed at Carnegie Hall!

Perhaps that doesn't have the impact it once did, but it used to be pretty special to say you made it to Carnegie Hall in New York City.

For two years, I was in the University of Michigan Men's Glee Club.  It was a very prestigious organization, having won the International Men's Glee Cub Competition a year or two before I joined.

It was a bit of a fluke that I got accepted.  The student director of the band was a Bridgeport High School alum who had been a year ahead of me in school.  His first name was Mark, but I have forgotten his last name.  He was big in the school band, and had remembered my musical performance in Superman, and my freakishly high audition song of Somewhere Over the Rainbow, which I sang a couple octaves too high.

They needed first tenors, and he encouraged me to try out.  You were required to know how to sight read, which I could not, but they were so desperate for high tenors, that they kind of waved that requirement.  And for better or worse, I could definitely sing up there in the clouds.

The group would tour the country each year, and we would perform at different venues.  We did one tour to the Mid-Atlantic, New York City and New England, and another tour to the South.  It was my first trip to Atlanta, and we performed at Ebenezer Baptist Church, the church where Martin Luther King, Jr. had preached.

There are many stories of my time on these trips, some of them quite wild.  But this one is about my quasi-triumphant debut at Carnegie Hall.

We did a huge variety of songs, from many genres and types, including Broadway.  That year we did Gee, Officer Krupke from West Side Story.  In the song, several 'juveniles' take the role of  different people trying to explain the bad behavior of the gang members to policeman Officer Krupke.  I sang the last one.  I sang it as if I were a 63 year old female social worker.

I am lousy at remembering lyrics, but these stand out to me.  What I sang:

Gee, Officer Krupke, you've done it again!
This boy don't need a job - he needs a year in the pen!
It ain't just a question of misunderstood
Deep down inside him - he's no good!

It was done in a very high voice, with the crag and rhythm of an elderly female New Yorker, ending in a loud shriek.  The audience ate it up.  They interrupted the song to applaud me, the only time in the concert that they applauded before the song was over.

I knew something important had happened, but I was too young to fully absorb it.  Yes, it was a bit of a fluke.  It was my comedy and daring that they were applauding, not my tremendous singing talent. But it was special enough.

That night, we returned to our hotel rooms.  The others in my room must have went out, and I was left alone.  And I was hit with an overwhelming sadness and depression. I had this great moment, and there was no one from home to share it with.  I think I may have tried to call home, but this was in the day before cells, and hotels in New York City charged a small fortune to call out.  So my parents did not see it.  No one from home did.  I had a girlfriend that was slipping away, and I couldn't impress her with what I did.

I had reached the pinnacle of my young life, and I was lost.  What did it all mean?  I did not know.  Right or wrong, I cried alone in my room.

It was a big, emotional moment, but I felt alone and unable to figure out how to share it, or follow up on it.  What do I do next?  Or was that it?  Was that as big as I got?

As I've aged, I have enjoyed many times that connection with an audience.  No, I've never done anything truly "big" with it. Oftentimes, when a play is done, I still go through that same let down.  I don't entirely know why.

You won't find me on TV or the movies.  I will almost certainly never get back to Carnegie Hall.

But I was there once.

For one brief shining moment, I was there.

Farewell to Dub For Now

It is time.  Time to set aside my redneck ways.  Well, at least until next season of WACT (Waycross Area Community Theater).

Dub Dubberly was a joy to play, and a very interesting kind of redneck he was.  If you didn't see the play, maybe you can catch the sequel this coming Christmas season, when WACT will put on Christmas Belles.

WACT in fact is doing two more southern comedies next season, just as it did the season just ended (The Dixie Swim Club, which I directed and the just concluded Dearly Beloved).  In addition to Christmas Belles, the first play of the season will be The Beverly Hillbillies.

Yes, I do wish WACT would do a wider variety of plays than just Southern comedies and family musicals.  But we are, after all, in the South, and box office is important.

It would be nice to see a few more socially conscious plays done at WACT.  The last one was two seasons ago, Driving Miss Daisy, which, of course, was set in the South.  My dream play has always been Inherit the Wind (ALSO set in the South), but that is probably not to be.  Not only does it have social/religious problems, it has a very large cast of male actors.

But not every theater can do everything that a community needs.  Flying Dragon Arts Center offers more support and training for children.  It offers a place where kids can learn and grow in a positive environment.  Every child can get their chance to shine.  Trembling Earth productions offer a greater little theater experience, where a small troupe of actors present a high level of professionalism.

And a new group is emerging, the Purlie Victorious Players, that will perform more socially conscious plays in The Studio at the Okefenokee Heritage Center.

There are groups that specialize more in dance, and others provide lessons for acting or modeling or music.

The school systems in the area have vibrant drama programs that offer first rate entertainment.  Pierce County is almost always highly competitive in One Act Competition.  Ware County puts on rollicking full-scale musical each year.

My son joined a film club at his middle school, and put together a marvelous film, The Life of A Middle Schooler.

So when you look at the entire theater scene of our little area, it is much richer and varied than at first glance, and one that I and my family are proud to be a part of.

Post Play Partums

That's me in the background, ol' Dub, with our marvelous Director, Stanley Sinkfield.  He did a wonderful job of bringing out the best of us, and in helping craft an amazingly rich and funny show that was enjoyed by everyone who saw it.

One of the area's finest young actors, Jody Rollins, played a combination UPS/Preacher man.  Here he is doing one of the things he did best in the play, consuming more food.  Also are the Futrelle sisters, played with pizazz by Nikki Spivey (Twink), Nadine Borrelli (Honey Raye) and Mamie Jackson (Frances Ann).

Nadine Borrelli (Honey Raye) is seated, and standing is Brittany Peacock (Gina Jo/Tina Jo), who played both of my twin daughters in the play.  Her performance was amazing, highlighted by one of the best non-verbal performances I've seen in theater, which was her putting in place and then unfurling a very special sign.

Here I am, Dub Dubberly, down on my knees, proposing to my wife in the play, played with aplomb, style and talent by Mamie Jackson.

Nikki Spivey (Twink)  with out armed superstar, Darren Council as policeman John Curtis (Dub's best friend).  Darren literally stole the show with his breathtaking talents.  The scenes I had with him were a true joy, acting and reacting to the things he would do.  Darren is leaving soon to seek acting jobs in LA, and I fully expect many of you will be seeing a lot more of him very soon.


It's not always easy when a play ends.

It takes up a large portion of your life, and you become bonded with many of the people involved.

You spend every night with these people for two weeks.  You get energy and empathy from the audiences, and for awhile, you are somebody else, somebody in another time and place.

And then it all comes crashing to a halt.  The play is over.  The set is dismantled.  The people you spent so much time with disperse, some you never hear from again, and others you only see until the next play.

For me, the May plays and their busy times spin directly out of tax season, so I go from being very busy with work, to being very busy with the play, and then....it's all over and you are left with the reality that you are not really an actor.  You're a mid-level accountant in a small firm.

So it does take some adjustment, coming back down to Earth.  But there is family.  There is writing,  And a DVR that is overflowing with programs to catch up on.

But, as busy as it was, will I miss the stage lights?  Will I miss the connection with cast, crew and audience?

You betcha!

Cutting the Three Legged Stool: Saturday Political Soap Box 106

It ain't easy any more.

For a few brief shining decades, it all kinda worked.

The stool had been built, and it was fairly sturdy.

The first leg was a defined benefit plan through an employer.  Not everyone had one, but there were quite a few, and they were growing.  Many large companies offered very good plans that provided significant support to the employees that gave so much to make their companies successful.

The second leg was your own savings and investments.  Many people made decent, middle class salaries that allowed them to develop their own portfolios.  It was relatively easy for many to take 10% or so of what they made and set it aside into some kind of investment.  There was some risk involved, but wise investments would pay off with supportive if not always spectacular results.

The third leg was SSI.  Social Security Insurance.  Every worker in our society put in a portion of their wages, and it insured that they would be taken care of with a guaranteed retirement income the rest of their lives.  Because it was an INSURANCE program, some people received more in benefits than they put in.  Some received less.  But all were guaranteed support.

The result was that elderly poverty, once a serious problem in this country, was virtually a thing of the past.  Grandma and Grandpa could lead independent, comfortable lives  rather than abandoned or put in a back room of one of their younger family's homes.

But only a few decades after it was assembled, it is now all coming apart.

The defined benefit plan is becoming a thing of the past.  Fewer and fewer employers offer it.  As CEOs raid their company's pension trust fund for other things, they complain that they can no longer afford to provide them, that they are not actuarially  sound.  Is that true?  In some cases, as companies down size and reduce/freeze wages, it may be true.  But there is always ways to fix things and take care of people.  They simply, more and more often, choose not to go that route.  Eliminating and reducing pensions is a way to make their stock more appealing on Wall Street.

Public plans, for state and federal workers, are not faring much better.  People employed privately see the gravy that public employees get and become jealous and angry.  And rather than demand that private employers do better, they want to drag the public employees down to their level.

Investments are becoming harder to maintain.  As wages stagnant and costs rise, it becomes harder and harder to save.  A few decades ago GM was the largest employer, and they paid $20 or more an hour.  Now Walmart is the major employer and the average wage is just a buck or two above minimum wage (if that).

401ks and SIMPLE retirement plans have replaced the defined benefit plan in many places.  Employers match a certain percentage of what employees set aside, most commonly 3%.  But at the level of income that most people have, even if they successfully manage to shepherd the money into retirement, it does not provide adequate support compared to the other two legs.

And I have seen through my tax accounting experience, that many individuals take out this money long before retirement.  It is hard to resist when other needs and emergencies come up.  Many even take it out when they know they will have to pay a high marginal tax rate on it AND a 10% penalty.

Social Security still exists but it is under siege. Conservatives and others stress constantly over it's presumed shortfall that may occur decades from now.  They want to reduce it, raise the retirement age, and/or privatize it.  Really?  At the same time the other two legs are being cut off, you also want to wreck the one thing that is working?  How sad and dangerous.

As costs rise for Seniors, particularly in drug and housing/nursing home costs, we're seriously thinking about capping or cutting what they get?  As more and more of us have to rely on Social Security as our major support, we're going to whack this leg too?

We're going to raise the retirement age because people live longer?  What horse crap!  Those who do the hardest work for the lowest wages are often broken and/or disabled long before the advantaged class.  And those are the people that will be hit the hardest by an increase in retirement age.

Social Security is vital.  It must not be cut.  It must be expanded.  It must become the strongest leg of our stool, because like it or not, it may have to hold the weight of things virtually by itself.

Defined benefit plans are rapidly becoming a thing of the past.  People will need to invest in their employer's SIMPLE plan, or for the self employed, IRAs for one leg of the stool.  They will have to devise their own investments for leg two.  But until wages improve, these legs will never be as healthy as they should be.

The third leg should be a healthy and generous Social Security Insurance program,, one that grows and expands as needs increase, and as the fragility of the other two legs remains.  Still worried about the fiscal stability of the Social Security system?

First, stop laughing at people like Al Gore for using the term lockbox.  Social Security should be strictly off limits except for the purpose it was designed for.

Second, and most importantly, SCRAP THE CAP.  Do not cap wages and income subject to Social Security at $118,000 or so as it is now.  Let it go to the sky.  Trust me.  The wealthy can handle it, and it provides them and us with a lot more stable society.  Seniors with money are Seniors who spend more.  Spending more increases demand and boosts the economy,  Boosting the economy creates more jobs.  More jobs creates more people contributing to social Security.  It's a win...win...win and win.

Secure the stool.

Scrap the cap!