Our Leaders Ought to Sell Christmas Trees

A Christmas Tree at Home

When I was young I learned the basics of economics and selling from dealing Christmas trees. My Dad was a cheap son-of-a-gun and had no desire to give my older brother and I money for buying his Christmas present, or anything else for that matter. He wanted us to earn it. So in addition to the work we did for his business of renting motor homes, during two holiday seasons when my brother and I were both in High School my dad set us up with our own Christmas tree lot.

At the corner of Main Street and 148th, next to the now defunct Shell gas station I learned about the basics of supply and demand and how cash availability would drive up the prices the buyer paid for the trees. The same principles apply to all forms of capitalistic enterprise, in particular health care and a college education. I often wish our nations leaders had run their own Christmas tree lots in their youth so that they could learn what 16-year-old me found very basic.

Winnebago Adventurer photographed in USA.

Winnebago Adventurer photographed in USA. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My Dad rented Winnebago Motor Homes for a living. At any one time in my youth he owned anywhere from six to eleven RV’s. Skier’s in the Winter and campers in the Summer paid for my modest upbringing. My Dad kept the vehicles parked next to the gas station near our home. Since the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas was kinda slow for his business and since he already had the lot in which to display the trees he came up with the brilliant idea of selling Christmas trees to earn himself a few bucks and help his teen-aged sons pocket some easy money, while staying busy and out of trouble.

Anyone who has run a retail business knows the process. My Dad would pay wholesale prices for the trees from a grower, and pay to have them delivered to the Bellevue location. Using 2-by-4’s, nails, and a hammer my brother and I set up easy to construct stands in which to lean the trees. One of the larger Winnebago’s was parked beside the designated space in the Kmart parking lot beside the aforementioned gas station. There my brother and I would report after school, eat our snacks, do our homework, and watch whatever tv we could pick up with rabbit ears on a small black-and-white tv we had. We were set up for business.

We were cozy and warm inside the motor home until a family pulled up outside and got out of their cars to peruse our selection of trees. Each tree had a colored ribbon tied to it so, though our customers didn’t know, we would know how much we paid for it. My memory is foggy from over thirty years passing but my best guess is that the smaller yellow ribbons meant my Dad paid $5 for the tree, Red- $10, Blue- $15. My Dad told us he would take $10 for every tree we sold. But anything above the whole price-plus-$10 was ours to keep. Strictly cash transactions. There were no debit cards back then, or mobile electronic credit card processing. Put simply, my brother and I could charge customers any price we felt we could get away with.

Needless to say the same tree could go for $40 to one family or $100 to another. We learned to pay attention to what size and kind of vehicle a family drove as they climbed out to see the trees. A nicer car or a truck meant these people would pay more. My brother and I practically fought our way to be first out the door when a family with young kids walked onto the lot. It was those little tikes who happily screeched at their Daddy , “Oooo Daddy that’s the perfect tree can we get that one. Can we PUHLEEEEZZZ get THAT one?”, who unknowingly drove up the price of the tree. My brother was ruthless. He had no problem telling the haggard Dad that one of the $15 trees was $125. I could seldom muster the nerve to ask for $80. And if anyone hesitated on paying what we were asking, we simply offered to give them a “special” deal, and lowered the price $20 “because you look like such a nice family”. Once again, big brother remained much more rigid in his pricing than did I. He would only lower his price when the family had left the lot and was packing into their car. Selling the trees was easy. In fact, there was no “selling” involved. The only question was how much they’d pay. And if they had the money, and we could see that, they always paid extra.

An article in today’s Seattle Times Newspaper reported the fact that 1-in-2 college graduates faced unemployment when getting out of school this year. It raised in my mind the question, just how worth it is a college education anymore. The average cost of a four-year degree at a public university is now about $35-thousand; for a private university it’s almost $120-thousand. And NOBODY gets a bachelor’s degree in four years anymore. The cost of a college education has climbed 600-percent since 1980. To determine the reason for the massive increase in college costs one need look no further than our Federal Governments constantly supplying universities with an unending, unquestioning source of revenue. Our spend-happy Washington DCers have increased funding for  higher education assistance 141% since 1991. It’s like all the colleges are Christmas tree lots and our Government Representatives are parents with screaming kids who don’t know how to say, “NO”.

Health care has been similarly effected. Who truly pays health care bills? Most are paid by our Federal Government piggy bank. The rest is picked up by large, rich insurance companies or equally large and powerful corporations. Doctors, hospitals, pharmaceutical firms and other health care providers are standing in the lot holding up the big tree with the blue ribbon on it smiling broadly. This tree will sell, and their will be a large profit. The only question is, “how large?”.

The hardest sale my brother and I ever had to make was the guy who tromped into our tree lot with no wife and no kids and interested in nothing more than getting the tree and going on with his day. Usually this guy had a station wagon, that was probably missing a hub-cap. When confronting us he’d ask “How much?” and no matter what we said, it was too much. He’d offer less and we’d happily accept.

Were the giant feeding troughs of government funds removed from the college revenue and health care equation these behemoths would be forced to deal with that one guy (or gal) who ultimately will pay the bill for the services provided. The one guy buying the Christmas tree isn’t swayed by emotional pleas that “we’ve got to have it”. And the tree seller can see the guy doesn’t have much money to begin with. So he’ll offer it for less and accept far less. He would have to, or he wouldn’t sell the tree and he’d eat the $15.

Obamacare, promising health care coverage for all Americans, was  passed two years ago. It’s laws not completely going into effect until 2114. And still, we’ve seen the cost of health care continuing to climb. The President has made a lot of news this Spring berating colleges about increased tuition costs. But colleges continue to raise fees. THIS Christmas tree salesman knows why. It’s basic.

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Seattle Mariners: No Hit.

Safeco Field in Seattle.

Safeco Field in Seattle. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

For the 21st time in the 120 years of Major League Baseball history a pitcher threw a perfect game Saturday in Seattle at Safeco Field. Chicago White Sox pitcher Phillip Humber (pronounced um-ber) threw only 96 pitches to go through the 27 outs without allowing a single runner on base necessary to record a nine inning perfect pitching performance. It’s instructive to note who it is that did the pitching, and who this amazing feat was accomplished against. In summary it marked the death of my optimism for an interesting season of growth for my home town Mariners who I no longer feel are “up-and-coming”.

Humber should be lavishly praised for inserting his name into the same pantheon of pitchers to record such a day’s performance. Most of the 21 perfect games were accomplished by pitchers of significant career achievement. The list includes John Montgomery Ward, Cy Young, Don Larson, Sandy Koufax, Catfish Hunter, Dennis Martinez, Kenny Rogers, David Cone, David Wells, Mark Buehrle, Roy Halladay, Randy Johnson.  All Hall of Famers or NEAR-Hall of Famers. Humber is 29 years old and has an 11-10 career record. And while he may yet develop into an All-Star caliber pitcher he is already past the age when most pitchers establish the arc of their careers. And his arc is decidedly mediocre at best.

The Mariners who ignominiously inserted themselves into the loser side of this historic story included not one hitter with a batting average above the pedestrian level of .275.

Miguel Olivo

The nine man lineup included two, Miguel Olivo and Japanese Rookie Munenori Kawasaki, hitting well , well, well below the long-established “Mendoza Line” for offensive futility. And first baseman Justin Smoak at .203 and Michael Saunders at .209 are just above the .200 level Hall of Famer George Brett named for the former Mariner shortstop Mario Mendoza 30 years ago. To say the Mariner lineup was and is weak is equivalent to saying Tom Brady is a good quarterback. It’s an obvious understatement.

Three months ago after the Mariner’s failed to sign Prince Fielder and instead traded for catcher Jesus Montero to bulk up their impotent offense I wrote of my optimism for an interesting season. A season that wouldn’t rise to the level of the Mariners being a playoff contender but would feature a lot of up-and-coming young stars who would forge a better season than either of the past two years and establish a strong foundation for winning seasons in the near future. But what has Manager Eric Wedge done since then? He inserted Chone Figgins into the lead-off spot in the lineup where he is currently hitting .226 after slapping a measly .180 last season. He has continued to use Olivo as his primary catcher though Olivo is only a .241 career hitter who hit only .224 last season and led MLB in pass-balls. This in spite of the Mariner’s acquiring not only the 23-year-old Montero but also veteran catcher John Jaso. Jaso started over 130 games for the playoff contending Tampa Rays over the past two years and in limited duty has been among the Mariner leaders this season in RBI and batting average.

Michael Saunders

Michael Saunders (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The fact that Michael Saunders in flounder in replacing the injured Franklin Gutierrez is no surprise. I question why he was on the roster at the start of Spring Training to begin with. This is Saunders 4th season with Seattle. He hit .149 in 2011 and a career best .221 way back in 2009. While Saunders continues to flail Casper Wells sits on the bench, presumably counting empty seats at Safeco Field. Wells is only 27 years old and has a career .264 batting average in just two Major League seasons. And he also plays above average defense.

I strongly suspect Wedge is getting strong encouragement from Mariner General Manager Jack Zduriencik to play Figgins, Saunders and Olivo in a desperate hope of letting these players revive or kick-start their careers or in order to justify Z-Man’s decision to acquire these flops. What other explanation could there be? To continue to play players with a long history of poor performance over other young players with a history of far superior performance doesn’t make sense.

Furthermore, to allow 1/3 of your lineup to be devoted to last-chance reclamation projects that appear to be failing while other parts of your lineup also continue to under perform is criminal. Smoak has started the year worse than the .234 season he posted during an injury filled 2011 campaign. 38-year-old Ichiro is hitting only .266 and showing that last seasons fall to .272 was not an anomaly, but a trend. Starting short-stop Brendan Ryan pinch-hit as the final out in yesterday’s historic game. He was being given the day off to contemplate his .200 batting average and erratic defense. And youngsters Montero and 2nd baseman Dustin Ackley  still show promise, but have started the season slowly.

All these players are hurt by two-thirds of the Mariners projected starting outfield being on the disabled list.

Mike Carp

Mike Carp (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mike Carp injured his shoulder in the opening game of the year. And Gutierrez injured a pectoral muscle in Spring Training. Carp has begun a re-hab assignment in Tacoma. Gutierrez has not started any re-hab and the time of his return is uncertain, though easily weeks away. Nonetheless, neither Carp nor Gutierrez were sure bets to be strong performers this year. In their careers both have longer stretches of poor-to-mediocre play than good-to-great performing.

It’s time to start wondering whether Zderiencik’s plan is working. Seattle baseball fans haven’t seen playoff baseball in 11 years, and won’t see it this season. But after two seasons of historically weak offense little has been done to make the team more capable of scoring runs. I had put my faith in the fact that Zderiencik and Wedge knew more than I did and the younger players and weak performing veterans would HAVE TO do better this year than last. Here’s the crux of this blog. I can be wrong, and few people care. After more than a decade of mostly bad baseball Zderiencik and Wedge can’t be. Certainly not when their “Plan” involves a slow, patient re-building that isn’t working.

Perfect pitching performance? Sure. Congrats Phillip Humber. Pathetic sub-Major League caliber offense? Definitely!

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25 Years Since My Life Began…and A Lot Has Changed.

This Holy week is particularly special because I will be passing a milestone of tremendous significance to me. April 3, 1987 was the last day I spent in my life as an unmarried man. Put another way, my 25th wedding anniversary is April 4th.

I won’t bore you in this blog telling you how I love my wife, I do. Or how scared I was that wonderful day, I was terrified. It’s not necessary for me to wax-on about the many happy times we’ve spent, there are plenty. And I need not tell you of the commitment required from a man and a woman to stay married this long and however many more years we’re fortunate enough to enjoy together, total commitment.

But my reflective nature did think it was important to write about a significant change that has occurred in the last twenty-five years. Most notable is the fact that my marriage exists at all, and that no one (seemingly) has a problem with that. My wife is black, I am white. And this fact is nearly meaningless today.

This was not the case when we exchanged vows in Seattle, WA in 1987. We were a rarity. And we were a controversial rarity. My Dad was not shy in expressing his opposition to my marriage specifically and to interracial marriage in general. He told me. And in one sad and pathetic and somewhat funny telephone conversation he told my soon to be Mother-in-law. My Dad later claimed to have had too much to drink one night a couple of months before the wedding date when my would-be Mother-in-law called him on the phone to invite him to take a more active role in planning the wedding of her daughter to his son. As was told to me later he told her he was not interested in participating, or even attending the wedding. As the story goes he proceeded to clumsily explain to her the few times in his life where he felt he’d been “hurt” or “damaged” by people who were black. My Mother-in-law, being a strong and smart woman, quietly listened. And when he had finished his pathetic little rant she calmly asked, “Now, would you like to hear all the times white people had “hurt” me?” Having been born in Alabama in 1940 it didn’t take a PHd in Sociology to figure her list was long and severely more substantial than whatever my Bellingham, WA born Father was able to muster. He sheepishly declined to hear her tales. And he did attend our wedding. Though he told no one in advance that he would do so, and when my bride and I first became aware of his presence at our reception it was a pleasant surprise. He was one of the very few of my family members to attend. The cousins I grew up with and celebrated every Christmas, Thanksgiving, 4th of July and other holiday’s and special events didn’t come or send gifts or cards. My Nana, my Dad’s mother, likewise failed to come or acknowledge our wedding. One of my two Aunt’s, one of my Uncles; none attended my wedding or acknowledged it in any way.

It hurt my heart that people who raised me and loved me had such unprincipled views toward the issue of race and family. But it was a stance from which society allowed them to feel comfortable. Even in the 1980s I felt the discomfort, the staring eyes, the unwelcome attitudes, the bias from others because I was with a woman whose skin was darker than mine. It remained an issue years into our marriage. I still remember how offended I was at a news teaser from KING 5 News Anchor Jean Enerson in which she announced a feature story upcoming for the 5 o’clock news by say, “Interracial Marriages!!! Tune in at 5 o’clock for the inside story on these increasingly popular HOT couples.” Hot couples? This was about 1996 when my bride of 9 years and I were living in predominantly white Redmond, WA raising two kids, trying to pay a mortgage, driving to school and family events on a nightly basis…I didn’t feel particularly HOT. I felt like any other couple getting along in this world. And yet, Seattle’s leading TV news agency felt the make-up of my marriage was striking enough to feature it in their prime newscast and to characterize it as “HOT”? Really? Over 30 years from the signing of the Civil Rights Act? It was nearly 30 years since

William Shatner as Kirk in a promotional photo...

William Shatner as James T. Kirk kissed Nichelle Nichols playing Lt. Uhura in TV’s Star Trek;

Nichols as Lieutenant Uhura.

marking the first time in television history that a white person kissed a black person.

According to a 2010 CNN report interracial marriages were at an all-time high making up 14.6% of all newly married couples. That’s up from 6.8% in 1980. The report does not distinguish what races or ethnicities make up the interracial couples. A report in the New York Times from just 1 year ago says of every 1000 marriages white men marry black women only 3 times, versus 19 Hispanic women, 14 Asian, and 947 white women. So even now we remain an oddity. But fortunately, a much more accepted oddity.

It’s fair to say that some people have a predisposition attraction to people of a certain race, and at times a different race. That’s fine; and I find no fault with such predispositions. It just doesn’t apply to me. I wasn’t then, and am not now particularly attracted to black women. I am predisposed to be attracted to attractive women, no matter their race or ethnicity. Such is and was the case with my beautiful wife. I didn’t marry her because she was black. I also didn’t marry her because she is attractive, though she is. I married her because she laughed at my jokes, and because I thought she was one of the most genuinely kind people I’d ever met. She still is.

While interracial couples are far less an issue today than they were in the 1980’s, I’m proud my marriage served as one small example of how unimportant race is in the living and loving of people. In 1996 my brother married a woman of Philippine decent. My Dad was all over their wedding, ingraining himself in seemingly every aspect of it. Some time after that occasion I asked my Dad why he was so involved in my brother’s wedding and so uninvolved in mine; why was it OK for my brother to marry a darker skinned Philippino but it wasn’t OK for me to marry a black woman? He answered in the best way he possibly could. He said, “You were Jackie Robinson. You showed that it was OK.”

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Me and my Bride- as kids

My False Irish Genes.

I grew up believing I was of German-Irish heritage. So St. Patrick’s Day and the history of Irish immigration to the United States was always fun for me to follow. I took pride in genetically and historically belonging to a people with such a proud history and such a tradition of closeness. In the United States few ethnic backgrounds for a Caucasian person clasp such togetherness, such ethnic pride.

Problem is…none of it’s true.

My German background is undeniable because of my name. The first Schuett coming to the United States in my lineage was my Great-Grandfather Carl H. Schuett.

Tombstone of my Great-Grandfather Carl Schuett in the Lynden Cemetery,Lynden, WA.

As best I can determine he entered the U.S. in Michigan via Canada in 1871 at age 15.

I believed I had Irish blood because my father told me so. He too always enjoyed playing the Irish heritage card on St. Patty’s Day. He believed in his Irish heritage because of his mother’s maiden name, Mathis. The pride in that name and it’s background evident by the fact that my Nana (Grandma) and her husband

My Grandpa Shelby Schuett in 1939.

Shelby Schuett named their first-born, my Dad, Jerome Mathis Schuett. My Dad’s brother’s, my Uncle’s, middle name  also came from the Mathis side of the family. He was named for my Great-Grandfather. Lee was his middle name. His Confederate father showing his Southern roots by giving his son a middle name in honor of Robert E. Lee. Outside of our family Mathis is a traditional Irish name, so I can understand my family’s belief in an Irish heritage that didn’t really exist.

About 4-5 years ago I began a life long interest of assembling my family tree through ancestry.com. The website is fantastic. I spent night after night staying up late…really late in the early going…scouring the birth, marriage, death and census records assemble on ancestry.com. When I started concentrating my efforts on finding the parentage of my Nana and all that came before her I was left both delighted and disappointed at the same time.

My journey began by trying to find that long rumored Confederate soldier I’d heard about in my youth. To find him I needed to find the birth place and parents of my Great-Grandfather William Lee Mathis.

My Great-Grandfather William Lee Mathis on his wedding day in 1908 in Bellingham, WA.

Fortunately I got a break when searching the 1880 Census. No other William Lee Mathis existed in census data at that time with anything close to the correct age other than my William Lee Mathis. The records listed him as a 2-year-old born in and living in Lee County, Texaswith his father Augustus C. Mathis and mother Elizabeth.

My Great-great Grandfather A.C. Mathis, far right, with his family in or about Lee County, Texas 1888ish.

The 1880 census data provided other important information that helped in my efforts to get back to Ireland. It showed the birthdate and location from where A.C. Mathis came; 1842 in Mississippi.

Confederate Army Veteran, Augustus C. Mathis, approx. 1875

After considerable time and research and travelling down dead-end roads I was finally able to locate my Great-great-great-Grandfather, A.C.’s dad, in the 1850 census. A.C. was in Pontoloc, Mississippi living with his farmer father John Louis Mathis, mother Luranah and seven siblings. The records also showed that John was born in Georgia and Luranah was born in South Carolina. So I was no closer to the land of Green.

Over a two-year period of nearly daily research I was able to trace the Mathis family tree from Bellingham, WAto Texas, Mississippi, Georgia, then pre-Revolutionary North Carolina, Virginia, and finally I found an ancestor who came from the Motherland…England. John Mathis died in Virginia in 1622 but was born in England, and his parents and Grandparents came from Wales. And as a side note his name wasn’t Mathis at birth. It was Mathews. NO IRELAND!? My Dad died in 2001 and never knew this information.

My Dad, Jerry Schuett

My research back on the various branches of the Mathis family tree never took me back to Ireland. Almost all the non-American lineage on that side of my family dates back to pre-1800s and comes from England, Scotland, Prussia, and France. The Schuett side was purely German. On both my Great-grandfather and Great-Grandmothers side of the family I was only able to research it back to Germany in the mid-1800’s. While not as dramatic or emotional my sense was like that of a child learning that they’d been adopted and all that they thought was true about their history, wasn’t.

I was delighted to learn that my family history in the United States on both my Dad and my Mother’s side of the family pre-dated the existence of the United States. Though I admit being disappointed in not finding Irish heritage.

So for Saint Patty’s Day now and forever more I’ll just have to adopt a temporary and fictitious name, like everyone else not Irish, Michael O’ Schuett…or should it be McSchuett?

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Another Kid is Shot and our 2nd Amendment Cringes

handgun

In the Seattle area three kids have been shot by handguns in the past three weeks. According to The Seattle Times the third happened at a gas station near the Tacoma Mall. A man with a license for carrying a concealed weapon placed the gun underneath the driver’s seat as he exited the car to fill the gas tank. A three-year old in the car got the gun and fatally shot himself in the head.

This kind of tragedy is avoidable if only people exercise a little more common sense when it comes to the ownership of handguns. Don’t. Don’t own them. Far more people are shot with guns they or their family members own than by the strangers with guns. If you want to dramatically increase the likelihood that you or a member of your family is shot, own a handgun.

Where I put my foot down is on government getting involved and telling us we may not own guns. The government is not needed in this discussion. Just common sense. The Second Amendment to the U.S. Constitution reads: “A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.” 

The Founding Fathers thought so much of this Right that they placed it second on their list of the first ten amendments, commonly known as The Bill of Rights. But a key aspect of the amendment is frequently ignored by 2nd Amendment advocates, “A well regulated Militia being necessary to the security of a free state…”.  Remove that phrase and the amendment takes on more meaning. It does not say “We shall have the right to keep and bear arms in order to kill our fellow man”

World Peace

. So some regulation of firearms can and should be exercised. To say there should be none is to argue that anybody can own, build, and possess a nuclear weapon; for what is that if not a more extreme form of “arms”.

Still I oppose government banning or severely restricting handguns. But there are lots of things we as people have a right to do that common sense dictates we avoid. I always tell my kids to look both ways  and make eye contact with drivers before crossing the street, even at a cross walk. Entering an unregulated cross walk in heavy traffic may be your right. But you’ll be dead.

I’m a gun owner. Rifles and shotguns, for hunting. I have been since I was twelve years old and my Grandpa gave me a .22 rifle as a Christmas present. He had made an annual gesture of giving guns to the boys in my family for a couple of years. So in a very real sense guns are a tradition in my family.

The author with his shotgun

But for reasons I’ve already explained I have never and would never own a handgun. The only time I would ever own a handgun is if I lived on my own. Then I can be sure to never angrily use it or accidentally use it against a person in my family; and I would be sure to not have it used against me either angrily or accidentally. It’s all well and good to claim I would never use my gun in anger. But I’m sure there are many, many murders behind bars who said or thought the same thing.

Three children shot and severely injured, or killed in only three weeks in the Seattle area is too much. It’s too painful. How much do you really need your gun. Does it really protect you? Or does it just excite you? Perhaps the more important question should be, does having it increase your chance of being shot or of someone you care about being shot, or does it increase your chance of you or someone else you love ending up dead? I’ll answer the obvious question: own a handgun and dramatically increase your chances of a quick, tragic death.

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