Posts: 8

1. The Dead Zone

   06.Aug.08, 07:38 EDT
   
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   Something has been on my mind for some time, but I haven't been writing many new blogs lately.  Mostly, I've just been posting reruns of blogs I wrote last year, some of them when I was still enthusiastic about blogging - you know, the kid with a new toy syndrome.  That's worn off now.  I still enjoy writing blogs, but it seems that I've hit a dead zone with them.  In other words, they don't get much action these days, meaning a lot less hits that back when my sites were getting well over a hundred a day.  Now, a good day would be thirty hits, and for a site as big as this one, that's almost not worth the time it takes to maintain it.
   
   Dead zones appear in almost all endeavors, sooner or later.  This particular blog is about a dead zone concerning the loss of community, something you hear a lot about these days.  Blame it on what you will, there's lots of factors responsible for it . . . like globalization, internationalization, universalism, and even nationalism.  In my lifetime I've seen small towns in America vanish as viable communities, and the reason for this is evident . . . there's a loss of the sense of community in this country.  Oh, we still have the small towns, but they're no longer communities like I remember.  Let me take you back to a time when real communities were still important in this country.
   
   I was raised in a small mill village community in the foothills of the Smokey Mountains, in Duncan, South Carolina, to be exact.  These days when I'm asked to speak to various civic groups, I talk about those days - the years of my upbringing in a little town pinched between to much larger towns.  Just down the road about 15 miles was Greenville, a fairly large town even back then, and just on the other side was Spartanburg.  What I'm saying is that I didn't grow up in a remote town, just a small one near urban centers.  Duncan had a small town attitude about it, and I'm the beneficiary of that sort of raising.
   
   All us kids ran the streets of town back then (that would be the late forties and early fifties) like packs of dogs.  Duncan was decidedly a blue collar town.  Most of the people worked in local cloth factories, since textile mills were the order of the day in the Piedmont Belt of South Carolina.  Everybody worked, and I grew up amidst that sense of value in hard work, in doing you job right.  Folks around me worked hard, and played hard.  They had a sense of direction and the will to not only point it out, but to drag you there if you appeared reluctant to go.  Schools had discipline.  Neighbors looked after one another.  Streets were safe, and the men of the community saw to it they stayed that way.
   
   But mill villages can be tough towns - not dangerous towns, but tough in a sense that you had to grow up looking after yourself.  I got into fights walking back and forth to school, not all that often, but sometimes a kid's just got to be a kid.  I went home quite a few times with a shirt ripped from tussling with other kids, and occasionally with a bloody nose.  One one occasion I had just got into a scrap with some older boys, and was sitting on the curb still sniffling.  A man came out of his house and sat down beside me, and said, "I've been watching you, and I like you, kid.  You fight back against those bigger boys.  Want me to teach you how to take care of yourself a little better?"
   
   Well, I said yes, and he took me around to the back of his house and showed me his garage.  He had weights there, and punching bags, and other things.  It turns out that this guy had been a boxer in the military.  He'd been a soldier in WWII, like lots of other men on my block.  So this guy taught me some things about boxing, and he talked to me about how size wasn't always a factor in who turned out to be the toughest.  This guy, you see, was a small man himself . . . but nobody in the community thought of him as small.
   
   You know, it's sort of ironic that I never ended up being a sure enough tough guy.  I won my share of scraps, lost my share, but I sure as hell didn't run away from them.  Community taught me that . . . that a guy stands up for what he thinks is right, that he sticks to his guns and endures the fight.  It's not the winning that's important; it's the staying power that's important.  And at the same time, that same community taught me that avoiding the fight is the smartest thing.  Some things,  you just let go for the sense of community.  Accomodation is always better than aggitation, and the message there is clear - don't pick fights.
   
   In case you're not following me here, I'll be bold and point it out.  The loss of community in this country is what brings about thinking like what got us involved in Iraq, or in Vietnam.  Some folks call it Globalization, and America has assumed a big role in this thing.  As a world military power, we seem to think it's important to police the world (as long as it's in our national interest).  As a world economic power, we think it's important that we control world markets, or at least maintain a position as a major player in it.  Again, that word globalization comes up . . . and I grow increasingly leary and concerned about it.  Nationalization had already done enough damage to the sense of community that made this country strong . . . but globalization?
   
   And I'm always disappointed when the bottom line is money.  With us, it's almost always about the money.  At a much smaller scale than national and international governments and economics, we have the social communities . . . like Moli.  Are they really communities, or do the same things that spoil the real sense of community in all things affect them too?
   
   I'm not sure, but I think I know where the dead zone with my blogs came from.
   
   PHM, 8/05/08
   
   

2. The Worst Kind of Elitist

   16.Apr.08, 11:48 EDT
   
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   Lately I've been running into the word elitist quite a bit.  In fact, I've often been called an elitist . . . and maybe I am.  But the word elitist conjures up all sorts of images in the minds of people, most of them bad.  Maybe this is why so many people are eager to attach the word to concepts they don't like.  Jonathan Swift's comment that you can always tell when a true genius appears among us by the outcry from all the dunces who'll immediately arise in a confederacy against him is classic.  Atta boy, Jonathan!  Seldom have truer words been spoken.
   
   No long ago I ran across a reference to something called the tall poppy syndrome.  Some New Zealand article about their Prime Minister is where I found it.  The crux of its meaning is that someone in a position of importance or authority gets tagged as an elitist because they're there, standing out like a tall poppy in a field of short ones.  It infers that the lesser poppies are jealous and suspicious of the tall ones, and maybe that's just human nature at work.  I've run across other titles lately like that, like calling a rich guy who supports socialist ideas a limousine liberal or a champagne socialist.
   
   I don't like elitism when it comes in the form of plutocracies, where people rise to positions of power just because of wealth, social status, or family.  We've got lots of that in this country, and I hate it.  Then there's the elitism of the well-educated, the scholarly, the scientists who think they're the possessors of the right way, the enlightened way.  For the most part, I think they are.  That separates me from the mass of people who have the elitist pluralistic notion that exoteric knowledge reigns, that esoteric knowledge should be viewed with suspicion.  Remember, if you will, that esoteric means a knowledge reserved to the few who are enlightened enough to receive it, or acquire it.  My feeling is that most forms of exoteric knowledge, the common sense stuff we're all supposed to know, comes up way short of being real knowledge.  I guess that makes me an elitist, at least along those lines.
   
   I favor systems where meritocracy is favored over the old chrony system of putting people in positions of power.  That's the good old boy system, the one based on exoteric knowledge, and it's just plain bullshit!  I'd rather tolerate the arrogance of elitism than have hacks running my government.  And the worst kind of elitism of all?  Well, it's simple and easy to detect - it's the good old boy, common folk, blue collar ethic kind of arrogance.  "God must have loved the common man 'cause he made so damn many of them."  Oh, spare me, please.  Are we going to blame God for all the dumbasses running around out there?
   
   Now, think about that for just a minute.  Fundamentalist Christianity, in my less than humble opinion, is the most serious threat to freedom and democracy in this country, or for that matter, in any country.  Talk about elitism, this bunch of misguided yahoos seem to think they're endowed with a certain degree of marvelousness . . . just because they're members of Jesus's country club.  Yep, join up with us, and you're on the road to not only salvation of the soul but also salvation from dumbassness.  God's my main man, and he wouldn't love me in a state of confusion.  Is that real Christian principle?  Is that what Christ taught?  Pardon my blunt assessment here of all you fundamentalist Jesus people out there, but somewhere along the line I think you guys jumped the track and missed the point.
   
   If you're starting to see that I'm tying our good old boy exoteric bank of knowledge to fundamentalist religious beliefs . . . you've caught up with me.  And I hate that kind of elitism.  Call me arrogant, or you can even call me the anti-Christ, but I'll have nothing to do with that sort of distorted thinking.  And if Jesus Christ could really come back and see what's happened to many of his people, he'd start preaching against what they stand for in this day and age.
   
   . . . or has he already done that and we just didn't listen?  Is there an echo in here?
   
   PMC, 4/16/08

3. Clip-on Microphones

   13.Feb.08, 17:33 EST
   
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   Some years ago I was backstage at a big cowboy gathering, fussing with one thing or another, getting ready to go out and do my thing as a humorist.  One of the directors came up and started clipping a microphone onto my lapel, making sure it was where they wanted it.  While doing so he told me the following story, and I was still grinning five mintues later when I went on stage.
   
   It seems that pastor Murray came to church one Sunday morning a bit under the weather with a stomach flu.  He told his associate pastor, a young man named Paul, that he was out of sorts and might not be able to finish his sermon that morning.  He'd give it his best, he said, but if the flu bug suddenly seized him in an emphatic way, he'd leave the pulpit.  Pastor Paul was then to take over.
   
   Sure enough, fifteen minutes into his sermon, the flu bug came calling again and pastor Murray was forced to flee the pulpit.   He dashed down a short hallway, burst into a bathroom, and barely got his trousers down in time before the product of his malady came forth with force.  He sat there on the potty trembling and so sick he could barely lift his head, making noises only one with raging diarrhea can make, and praying that he would soon be over this sickness that had fallen upon him.  
   
   And then, a soft knocking came at the bathroom door, and associate pastor Paul stuck his head just inside the door.  He said nothing out loud, just pointed at his lapel and half whispered/half mouthed the words, "microphone. microphone."
   
   Now there's a echo that might be heard for a while.
   
   PMC, 2/13/08

4. A Scholar For The Ages

   09.Feb.08, 08:59 EST
   
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   A hundred years from now, some college kid studying political science will be introduced to James David Barber, former Duke University political science professor and scholar.  Barber became famous after writing the book The Presidential Character: Predicting Performance in the White House.  The book came out in 1972, just about when I'd was getting rooted as a political scientist.  I loved the book, started reading everything I could get my hands on written by Barber. 
   
   James David Barber died in 2004 at the age of 74, but his writings will outlast him many years.  No man alive knew more about the workings of the executive branch of government, especially the presidency itself.  The Presidential Character drew fire from some of America's traditionalist political scientists, and from some psychologists who thought the book was overly simplistic.  But you've always got your bitchers, whiners, complainers who have difficulty in accepting anything that's new, especially if it's revolutionary like Barber's book was.  He was the first political scientist to give us an actual diagram, in words and shape, of what to look for in a President.  Everything he said in that book made sense to me, and I used it like a bible throughout my teaching career.
   
   To write books like Barber produced takes a working understanding of more than government and politics.  He had to know psychology, sociology, and especially history.  He took 20th century presidents and categorized them into four groups - active-positive (AP), active-negative (AN), passive- positive (PP), and passive-negative (PN), according to personality types.  Then he ranked presidents, placing each of them in a category, and he did this with justification of why he placed them there.  Nobody ever came up with a better description of how a particular personality type would perform in the White House than did Barber.
   
   At the risk of being too fundamental here, we'll show how it works.  A good example of an active-positive president, the best kind to have, would be a FDR.  He worked hard, felt good about his work, and didn't get bogged down in defeats.  Richard Nixon is a good example of an active-negative because he had all the attributes of being energetic and a hard worker like the AP, but he got bogged down in defeats, and ended up losing his job because of it.  Ike would be a good example of a passive-positive.  Eisenhower didn't work hard, saw his job as limited, but felt good about what little he did.  He didn't ask much of himself, didn't feel bad about not doing more.  And finally, a passive-negative would be a Warren G. Harding, who was a miserable president and knew it.  He didn't do much, felt bad about it.
   
   Barber's last book came out in 1995, and I've seen no comment by him concerning the presidencies of Bill Clinton and George W. Bush.  I don't need to because I already know where the fit.  Clinton is clearly an AP, an active-positive, and Bush is a passive-positive.  Since Bush is incapable of critical thought, it would be hard to know what he thinks of his job as president.  He's probably arrogant enough to think he's been worthwhile as a leader, but hardly anyone will ever agree with him . . . especially the historians who will rank him in the future.  Bush might end up being a PN, if he ever figures out how bad he really has been.
   
   But regardless of how bad he's been as a president, we'll have to give Bush credit for one thing - he's caused lots of echoes.  Whoever wins the presidential election this fall will have those echoes to deal with.  The gut-wrenching racket of a war machine leaves echoes we'll all be dealing with for a long time.  The wails of the displaced, orphaned, and wounded will be with us for a long time.  The cursing and outright shouts of anger from those who've been harmed by the inhumane policies of this administration will be around awhile, and somebody other than makers of this mischief will have to work around the echoes.
   
   It's too bad that more people didn't know who James David Barber was, too bad they didn't read his book about presidential character.  Perhaps if they had, they wouldn't have voted for a man who turned out to be a monster in office.  I don't think even Barber could've predicted how bad Bush would be, but at least his scholarship and writings had him pegged as being inadquate of character and not worthy of the highest office in the land.  Barber was a church worker, a professed Christian who opposed wars, worked hard to help the downtrodden and the disadvantaged.  And best of all about him, he's a scholar for the ages.  In circles where people speak of great minds and good men, Barber will be discussed.  Some good men leave echoes of their own - like a book that predicts performance of Presidents.
   
   And that's an echo, my friend, that folks like Bush can do nothing about.
   
   PMC, 2/09/08
   
   
   
   
   

5. A Vehicle Ready For The Junkyard

   04.Feb.08, 11:36 EST
   
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   There's a philosophy floating free in this country that if it ain't broke, don't fix it.  On the surface that sounds like a good idea, but the problem is that we usually don't know when it is broken badly enough to fix.  Let's use cars as a metaphor here, but the topic is government and what to do about it.  I'll start by saying that I think government in the U.S. is broke down, like an old jalopy that won't run like it should, or maybe at all.  If you buy into the basic principles of democracy (and I do), which is that government is a vehicle, then we need to examine it's condition.  Yep, it's time to hook the old jalopy up to some diagnostics and see what's wrong - what can be fixed and what can't.  What it all boils down to is this:  Is it time to send this broke down jalopy to the junkyard and get ourselves a new vehicle?
   
   Let's look at our metaphorical object first - the car.  We've all gone through it with a car giving out on us, right?  But did it really give out, or did we just give up on it because it started breaking down and giving us some problems.  Maybe the problem was partly with us, and that's usually the case with cars.  Most people don't take good care of them, don't maintain them properly, and end up having problems.  And in most cases, they let little problems turn into big problems, again because they didn't fix what should've been fixed at the right time.  Finally, they get tired of dealing with the problems with the vehicle and trade it in on a new one. 
   
   People who make and repair automobiles have figured us out, know how we are about cars.  Having a car repaired these days is like being cornholed by a gorilla.  Take lots of Vaseline when you go to pay your bill because they're going to ream you out good.  Just a few trips to the pay window at your local car dealership garage and you're ready to bite the bullet and buy a new one that's under warranty.  Again, make sure you've got your Vaseline along.  You're getting ready to take it up the old you-know-what again . . . but at least, you'll probably have something that runs.
   
   Dealing with government is like dealing with folks in the auto business.  We're just as stupid about maintaining this essential vehicle as we are about taking care of our cars.  We don't fix what needs fixing at the right time.  We let little things become big things because we're not smart enough to know when it's broken to where it must be fixed.  And again, when you deal with government that's become expensive because it's broken and not working well at all, take along the Vaseline.  A trip to the county tax office leaves you walking like you've got a corncob up your ass for weeks on end.  Shucking out big bucks for property tax is due mostly to having local governments so antiquated that they have to be hand cranked . . . and guess who provides the hand.  Worse yet, guess who let it get that way - you.  Neglect caused it.
    
   Government in America has become so big and unmanageable that it's almost too costly to maintain, and not just at the county or city level.  We put too many demands on government, want too much in the way of services, and they are hard pressed to meet these demands because they just don't have the skills to do it.  And even if they do have the know-how, they don't have the funds to do it.  Their solution to meeting demands is to raise taxes, increase levies.  We are strapped with governments that only know how to obtain money one way, and that's to take it from you, the taxpayer.
   
   At the federal level, we're incapacitated by interest groups and a privileged class that dominates Congress . . . and the executive branch . . . and even the judicial branch.  Does government work?  Oh, yeah, it works wonderfully well - if your're the fat cat, the privileged, the power broker.  If your average Joe Blow who pays taxes out the ass to keep what little you have, it's not such a good deal.  That means a good 90 percent of the American public is getting screwed, taking it up the ass from a government that has not been his vehicle for a long time.
   
   Some people in the car business are involved in restorations.  They love taking an old car that is almost completely worn out, then restoring it like it was when it came off the assembly line back in 1950, or whenever it was made.  I think that's a wonderful thing to do, but that's not possible with government.  We can't restore government like we can an old car, but lots of people are out there trying to do exactly that.  And maybe they'll learn that it's not possible because the parts are just not available anymore.  Many restoration jobs actually turn out to be custom jobs.  It looks the same, but it just might be a lot better than the original ever was. 
   
   I like custom jobs better because they just make sense.  Why replace worn out parts with antique parts, especially if you plan to drive the vehicle?  What we need in America is a custom government, one that looks something like the old one but has all new, modern, high tech parts.  We need to scrap the old jalopy for the simple reason that it just doesn't work now.  It's a slick machine, for sure, like a big limo or a Rolls or something like that, but it's just not a ride for most of us.  There's no room in it for us average taxpaying, hard-working Americans.  We need something we can all ride in . . . and with room left over for growth.
   
   I'll pay attention to the candidates as they talk about their plans for America . . . but with the belief they're just pissing in the wind when it comes to trying to save the old jalopy they love so much.  I want to hear somebody talk about real change, and not just a restoration.  We need some custom builders to come along, and I probably won't live long enough to see that happen.  But I can dream, and the best dreams of all are the ones that come true for your grandchildren.
   
   PMC, 2/4/08

6. Dark Holes

   18.Jan.08, 08:58 EST
   
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   One of the most interesting and baffling things about the universe around us are the black holes in space.  Scientists have been studying them for years, still don't know what they are.  Perhaps if these back holes, dark holes, or darn energy spots were just here and there in space, we'd ignore them, but they make up a whopping 74 percent of what's out there.  You can't ignore three-fourths of anything . . . especially since it's pulling the universe apart.  No need to worry because this isn't about to happen any time soon.
   
   Scientists know that dark holes are powerful magnetic force fields with enormous gravitational pull.  Anything that gets close to them gets sucked in, and we can only assume then that it somehow becomes a part of the dark hole itself.  But even though we know a little about what they're doing and how they behave, we don't know what they are.  Predictions are that it will be a long time before we figure it out.
   
   I'm a social scientist, and I don't know much about outer space or even about the great universe around me.  I study it sometimes, though, thinking that maybe there's a hint or two there that carries over into how we behave as human beings.  The world we live in has dark spots.  We study them as intently as we study the stars, but we still don't know much about them - even when we think we do.  Some people see them, understand them, but the rest of us don't listen to them, don't believe them even if we do listen.  We either don't see the spots, or if we do, we don't want to know anything about them.  They're dark places, and most of us are afraid of the dark.
   
   There are good reasons for our fear of the dark holes in our society and ourselves.  Maybe its instinctive, or perhaps a bit of intuitiveness, but we fear the dark because we know it has a capacity to suck us in, draw us to dark things we want no part of.  We know we are capable of things, for instance, but we just had rather not do them.  I can't say for sure what happens in outer space with dark holes, but I know how they work in society.  War, not just the actual conflict itself, but the clamor for it is a good example of how this dark force works.  America has gone to war on occasions because a dark cloud, a black power force, swept over the country and brought on a craving to kill.  Perhaps we had been wronged, like in the case of 9/11, or even attacked like with Pearl Harbor - these are the things that can bring out the dark side of us all. 
   
   Dark holes in our personalities and therefore our societies are magnetic in their own way.  Societies have gone into war frenzies after being wronged, and some would say that's just a part of human nature.  Wrong us, and we will wrong you back . . . or maybe we'll wrong somebody back.  If you study history, you'll find that about half the getting back wars ended up getting back at the wrong people.  The innocent always suffer in wars; they always suffer when souls of men turn black with resentment and anger.  It turns out that our sense of direction when it comes to getting back is not as good as our sense of self-preservation and eye-for-an-eye attitude about life in general.
   
   Dark holes in people and therefore the societies they build around themselves are often given credit for our bravery and are seen as a factor in the strength of an individual . . . or a nation.  As a person, an individual, we want others to know that if you mess with us, we'll get you back.  As a nation, we want other nations to know the same - mess with us, and we get you.  See it anyway you want, but this is not a bright spot in a person, or a nation.  It's not bright because it's not smart.  The only way we'll ever learn to deal with this darkness within us is to examine it.  Some people call this soul searching, and I guess that's as good a term as any.
   
   Let me suggest to you another dark hole within us.  We have a hard time being good to the little things in our lives, and I'm not just talking about little critters.  It's easy to want to kick the cat when it gets in your way.  Cats, if you've ever noticed, are that way by nature - underfoot.  Losing your temper is easy, but all the cat is doing is being a cat.  I've kicked my share of cats, and I've also lashed out at my children when they were doing nothing more than just being a child.  It's easy to lash out at an old person for being slow and in the way, and perhaps even complaining about it.  We forget that they're old and are just acting like old people normally act.  I could give you any number of examples of dark hole behavior, but I think you get the point. 
   
   We can handle most of the things in life that get in our way, spoil our days, make our road more difficult without allowing the dark sports within us to take over and rule the event, the situation.  It's not easily done, but it's possible.  I meet people all the time who do a better job of keeping their dark holes subdued than I do . . . and I admire them for it.  I try to deal with my own dark spots by convincing myself that nothing about my day, my precious time, is so important that I can't slow down and let the cat rub around on my legs, or wait on that old person at the store who just can't seem to get their check written at the cash register.
   
   Or maybe when one of the grandkids has pushed you to the brink, that spot near the dark hole where you're just about to be sucked in, and you get control of the moment . . . and say, "Papaw loves you a lot, but if you do that again, he's going to smack you across the room, OK?"  That works a lot better.  At least you warned 'em first, right?  And you keep the dark hole part of you where it belongs - subdued.
   
   PMC, 1/18/08

7. Echoes Can Be A Bitch Sometimes

   09.Jan.08, 09:14 EST
   
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   My mother was having surgery in Jackson, Mississippi about 20 years ago, and I went down to do what sons do in instances like that - sit around waiting rooms and be worried.  The surgery had come off well, mom was on the road to recovery, and I left the hospital and went to a local restaurant for lunch.  I parked behind the hospital, near where hospital staff parked, upon returning and witnessed the following scene.  A couple, man and a woman, got into a shouting and shoving match standing behind a new Mercedes automobile.  Finally, the guy grabbed the woman and carried her to the passenger side door.  He snatched it open, threw her inside, then started around to the driver's side.  But the gal went straight through the car and was out the door before he could get there, and so the scene was repeated.  He hauled her back around the car, threw her in again, and right out the other side she went.  By then the Mercedes's doors were getting a good workout, beinging slammed each time, and hard.
   
   So . . . I sat in my car and watched these two people, probably in their forties, fight it out, with the car taking the worst of it.  And they shouted and cursed at each other, and generally made asses of themselves.  I finally got out of my car and started walking toward them, but by then they didn't care who was watching.  All reason had fled them in a rush of anger that would have to run its course.  But I smiled at them as I walked past, just to let them know how stupid they looked.  I should've made a smartass remark, like, "Smile, you're on Candid Camera," but I didn't.
   
   Maybe I could see the humor in that scene because I'd been a feature actor in one very much like it just a few years before.  Echoes can be a real bitch sometimes, especially if they're of recent vintage.  I'd been divorced long enough to look back and see the humor in a few of the shouting matches I'd taken part in over the years.  Time was, though, when I saw no humor at all in it.  We all need time to adjust to the echoes.  They don't go away, you know.
   
   My son called the other day, mad as hell because his former landlord had stiffed him for about $1,300 in deposit refunds.  He'd been a good renter, took care of the place and left it in good shape.  After promising for weeks, even months, that she'd refund his deposit, she instead sent a list of bogus charges on things she'd had to fix after he moved out.  I could only say, "Well, all I can say is that the bitch got to you."  He was pissed because she wouldn't answer the phone or return his calls.  I guess I could've said that she'd get it back in time.  People like that live with more echoes than the rest of us, and the old saying that what goes around comes around is certainly true.  It's a lot more fun, though, when you create a few echoes of your own.
   
   My wife got stiffed for several hundred bucks by a California computer company some years ago.  They ended up shutting down their online sales department and screwed a bunch of people out of money.  In my wife's case, they never shipped the goods and never refunded the money.  Since there's little you can do about things like that in the society we live in, the best you can do is have some fun and amuse yourself . . . which is what I did with this company.  Over the next six months, I sent them a letter every few days - all from bogus addresses and people threatening them with everything from law suits to good old fashioned ass-kickings.  None of the letters were ever returned.
   
   When it gets right down to it, people in the business of defrauding other people are nothing but bullies.  Bill Collection companies employ tactics that bully people, as do credit card companies, banks, and the government.  Anyone who's ever dealt the a tax collector knows what being bullied feels like.  You can't deal with a bully by trying to reason with him.  They aren't in the business of fairness or reasonability, so forget that as an option.  What they respond to is exactly what they dish out.  Bully them back, and you can use some of the exact tactics on them that they've used on you.  What's good for the goose is good for the gander.  Make the sonsabitches live with echoes.
   
   When dealing with a bully you need to keep in mind that he's bullying you because he's looking for an easy way out.  If he can bully you into a quick payment, he's money and time ahead.  You can frustrate him by making him jump through all the hoops.  Read up on the law, know what your rights are, then be a little imaginative in what you do in response to bullying tactics.  And never feel guilty about being just as deceptive as they are.   You're not dealing with honorable people when you're in a battle with bill collectors, so don't worry about fair play. 
   
   Not paying your bills is never a good idea, but sometimes people get caught up in situations where they just can't pay.  I know people who are still being bullied over bills they defaulted on fifteen years ago.  That's where the echo thing comes in from being a deadbeat debtor.  Old bills keep coming around because different collection companies keep buying them up, thinking they're just a little tougher than the company that sold it to them.  Yeah, there are people out there buying and selling your bad debts, and they'll keep coming back to you just like the angry words you said in the past.  Just because you take bankruptcy doesn't mean the debt goes totally away.  The original creditor may have long since sold off his claim to the debt to someone who paid much less for just the chance to collect it.  And their number one tactic is bullying.
   
   The reverse scenario is also ever present - the person who tries to bully you to keep from paying what he owes you.  A letter from a lawyer, for instance, contesting a bill or payment sends some people into full flight.  They're rather write off the bill than deal with the legal fight.  If a deadbeat who owes you money pulls that crap, make sure he hears the echoes of his own actions - and there's all sorts of ways of doing that.  And as for the gal who stiffed my son for his deposit?  As soon as I have a chance to talk to him again, I'll show him how to at least get some self-satisfaction out of it.  The pen is mightier than the sword.  The clanging sound of swords smashing together goes away much sooner than the echoes of the words you leave hanging out there . . . if you hang them in the right place.
   
   PMC, 1/9/08
   
   

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