Saturday, November 25, 2017

I'm a Sucker for Self-Help Books!

                I picked up Neil Pasricha’s The Happiness Equation at the library because a book I thought I had on hold wasn’t there after all. Mr. Pasricha has nine basic suggestions for happiness, of which I’d agree with maybe eight. The one I’d take issue with is: Never retire. I was heavily influenced by Paul Terhorst’s Cashing in on the American Dream, Joe Dominguez’ and Vicki Robin’s Your Money or Your Life, and the 1938 film version of Philip Barry’s Holiday. I first retired in my mid-forties because I had a disagreement with my employer, Company L, over work-life balance. I thought there should be one.
                Mr. Pasricha presents many reasons for not retiring including structure and having a social network. I love being able to determine my own structure, and I wonder if Mr. Pasricha, who is Canadian, has set foot in corporate America recently. (He did say he’d visited Wal-Mart’s headquarters and was quite taken with the friendliness of the people he met there; perhaps the friendliness was real and perhaps not—sometimes these things can be faked, especially for a visitor.) With few exceptions—very few—I would not want the backstabbing brownnosers I worked with at Company L in my life, let alone in my social network.
                In Mr. Pasricha’s favor, his last suggestion is not to follow suggestions. And that’s a good suggestion.
                I found Cheryl Richardson’s Take Time for Your Life at an estate sale. I almost didn’t buy the book because the cover features a woman who appears to be having an orgasm, but having had my own experiences with publishers slapping inappropriate covers on a book (The Simple Life, a book primarily about frugality, which I edited, featured… a blade of grass), I took a closer look, and I’m glad I plunked down my 50¢ for this book. Ms. Richardson presents a seven-step program to help take control of our lives. I was most taken by her criteria for her clients’ choosing a job, which include:
                Work must never cause them to compromise their integrity
                The required hours must allow them to have a life outside work
                Their contribution must be acknowledged and appreciated
                Their work must be challenging and fulfilling
                They must have an opportunity to use their best talents and gifts fully
                They must be able to provide their input for important decisions
                They must be paid fairly for the work they perform.
                I guess if I could find a job that would do all these things (especially the last one), I might be willing to follow Mr. Pasricha’s advice and never retire. Perhaps there are unicorns out there after all.
                The final book, Real Cause, Real Cure, by Jacob Teitelbaum, MD, and Bill Gottlieb, CHC is another estate sale find I almost didn’t buy. I mean buying health books at an estate sale? These people died, after all. What good did the book do its previous owner? Anyway, I plunked down a whole dollar for this one and was pleasantly surprised. The authors give nine “real causes” of health problems. The chapter on prescription medications is worth the price I paid for the book. If the authors are right, many patients being treated for Alzheimer’s are suffering only from being overmedicated. The “real cures” part of the book deals with specific conditions.
                I definitely recommend this book. Most books I buy find their way to Half Price Books; this one’s staying on my bookshelf.

© 2017 Larry Roth

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Minimalism: As Black Friday Approaches Here's a Book for the Season, Some Shopping Advice and an Actual Gift Suggestion

            Earlier this year I reviewed some books on frugality, most of which would fall into the “Oh, poor me, I overspent and I’m now paying for it boo hoo hoo” category. This is not one of those books.
            In my last post I mentioned Kanopy, a streaming service offered free from the library. The first thing I watched after signing up for Kanopy was Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things, which led me to check out the Minimalist’s book, Everything That Remains, from the library. (The book is available in the Johnson County libraries; the Kansas City library did not have it.)
            The authors, Joshua Fields Milburn and Ryan Nicodemus, grew up in southwestern Ohio. Milburn’s mother left his abusive father who died when Milburn was young. His mother was an alcoholic who was eventually able to get sober. (What is it about that part of Ohio that makes people want to self-medicate?) Milburn got a good job right out of high school and was on the fast track complete with all the toys he thought he was supposed to want when his mother died and his wife left him—both in the same month.
            While he was sorting out his mother’s belongings, which he described as three apartments stuffed into one, he became overwhelmed. His mother retired to Florida but had never gotten rid of her winter clothes. He seesawed between taking her stuff back with him to Ohio or renting a storage unit in Florida. He finally realized he would never need his mother’s belongings, so he donated them. This started him on a journey to minimalism. He eliminated 80% of his stuff, gave up TV, the internet, his cell phone, and finally even his goals. He decided to go back to having internet and a phone, but by giving them up, he realized life would be possible without them. He recommended to his employer that he be laid off and eventually he was. Nicodemus, who worked at the same company was also eventually laid off, though not at his request.
            The minimalists contacted other like-minded people, formed a publishing company (Asymetrical, currently located in Montana) and started putting out books. They are having fun.
            They did a book tour that started small and ended up successful beyond their dreams. So many people showed up to hear them in Toronto they thought they were competing with another act. They wound up having to do more presentations to accommodate everyone. It seems there is a lot of interest in having less stuff and more life. As one of the people who attended their lecture in Toronto said, she was living the life she was supposed to want, but it wasn’t her life; she was living someone else’s dream.
            On a personal note, when I left my job with Company L in 1995, my parents were flabbergasted. Their reaction was basically how could I give up everything they ever wanted. My problem was what they wanted was not what I wanted.
            On yet another personal note, my mother died in 2003; my sister has just this fall let go of our mother’s clothes.
            There is an awful lot to think about in this book, including the astute observation that hoarding and organizing are pretty much the same thing. Hoarding is out in the open, but organizing is essentially well-planned hoarding. I’d add that “organizing” in today’s language usually implies buying containers and other items to contain our excess, so it may well be more expensive than hoarding plus we wind up with all the stuff we bought to hold our stuff.
            The book is independently published (the ISBN is 9781938793189), and it could use some editing, but since I’ve been there, done that, and had my own share of screwups, I’m in no position to criticize. Just read the book and appreciate its message.
            As we’re entering the Season this year, perhaps we could pause our spending for a few minutes and think about the things we buy both for ourselves and as gifts for others. If it’s something useful or needed, great. If it’s neither, well, isn’t it a waste of time, money, and the space it will occupy?
            And on one more personal note, don’t buy something simply because it’s on sale. I’m considering buying an Instant Pot. Walmart has a “Door Buster” ad with a 5-quart Instant Pot for $49. I’m looking for the 8-quart model. I almost fell into the trap of “$49 is a good deal; maybe I can live with the 5-quart model.” But I realized (in time) something you don’t want on sale is not a good deal. I know I’d wind up buying the 8-quart model eventually, so I might as well save the $49 (plus tax) I’d spend on this model and get what I want the first time. 


            One thing you might consider giving, if you still have anyone on your list who has a landline, is MagicJack, which I reviewed in my second post way back in December of last year. (Here’s the link: http://www.larryrothsblog.com/2016/12/magic-jack-and-smart-tv.html.) They’re having a sale. For $29.99 plus tax, you get the MagicJack and a year’s phone service. Please read my review because MagicJack does have some limitations. The link to the special is:


https://my.magicjack.com/process/CART/form/CARTLOGIN?language=

© 2017 Larry Roth

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Kanopy: Cord Cutting with Help from the Library

                Kanopy is a streaming video service many libraries, including the Kansas City Public Library, have begun offering to their patrons. Some libraries offer other streaming services, so if your library doesn’t offer Kanopy, you might check with them to see what they have available.
                Kanopy offers more than 30,000 titles, and it’s free. To get Kanopy, go to Kanopy.com, hit “Watch Now,” and follow the instructions. You’ll need a library account.
                Kanopy’s offerings include documentaries, indie films, foreign titles, and classic and contemporary films. You can watch twelve selections per month, and you have three days to watch each one, which comes in handy at times, since Kanopy offers several of the Great Courses, most of which have twenty-four thirty-minute lessons.
                The first thing I watched on Kanopy was Minimalism, a documentary by Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus. That led me to check out their book, Everything That Remains, which is so good I’m going to review it in my next post. I also watched Beyond Food, another documentary that led to my reading Abel James’ The Wild Diet and Dave Asprey’s The Bulletproof Diet. Both books were interesting, but both authors have done very well financially and base their diet on food that is organic, grass fed, free-range, and every other euphemism out there for expensive, which puts strict adherence to their diets out of reach for most of us commoners—especially those with large families and small incomes. I did find Kerrygold Grass Fed Butter at Aldi, but it’s about four times as expensive as Countryside Creamery, Aldi’s brand.
                As I said, both books were interesting, and my take on them is we commoners can probably get some good out of the books if we do the best we can with what’s affordable.  
                In the meantime, those inclined to cut the cord can possibly save some money by eliminating cable and adding Kanopy to their streaming device. A word of caution, though: Dan and I subscribe to Acorn and Netflix, both of which offer an awful lot of good TV. There is a danger to having so much available, and that danger is we’ll wind up living vicarious lives, so I’d advise that you limit your viewing (my limit is 90 minutes a day plus the news) in order to give yourself time to have a real life.

© 2017 Larry Roth

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

Unitarian Universalism--Found and Lost

                If you’ve read my book, Political Frugality, and the odds are you haven’t, you know that when that book came out in 2005 I had just joined a Unitarian Universalist church. I was enthusiastic. Back then we had a minister who was down to earth and, well, human. And he had a sense of humor. Once when he invited Dan to visit the church, Dan, who grew up Catholic, said he was not into organized religion. The minister said, “That’s OK. We’re not organized.” It helped, I think, that his wife was a Methodist minister. The church offered courses such as the History of Unitarian Universalism, Thoreau, Emerson, and so on. I loved it.
                Alas, all good things come to an end. Our minister moved, and the church moved on to a series of humorless dogmatic ministers who reminded me of the reason I left the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod I grew up in.  There was one exception, but she was only temporary. There was even a purge of staff who no longer “fit in.” Courses these days tend to be along the lines of “Concepts of White Supremacy,” which is the actual title of one of the courses. It’s estimated more than 90% of all Unitarian Universalists are white. Interestingly, we used to have a Protestant predominantly African-American sister church. We’d get together for a picnic on Labor Day. That, too is no more. Too much fun, I suppose.
                I’ll be among the first to agree we all need to learn about white privilege. I just finished reading The Warmth of Other Suns,” by Isabel Wilkerson. The book is about the Great Migration of blacks from the south starting roughly during World War I and continuing to 1970 or so. I had no idea how bad conditions were in the south, and to what lengths, after the migration had begun and there was an increasing shortage of black labor in the south, southern whites would go in order to keep people from leaving. Amazingly, treating their help better and maybe not lynching so many never occurred to white southerners. This is one book I’d highly recommend. I’m now reading Ira Katznelson’s When Affirmative Action Was White, which is interesting and mercifully short, but he’s nowhere near the writer Ms. Wilkerson is. At any rate, yes, we need to be aware of white privilege, but even dog trainers recommend against rubbing puppies’ noses in their mistakes. And couldn’t we have some history of the church classes, too? And maybe—just maybe—could we have a sense of humor?
                Earlier this year the church made the news when a vacancy occurred in the church’s southern region. A white man was selected to fill the position, and the shit hit the fan. One of the finalists for the position was a Latina who criticized the selection. This led in rapid succession to the resignations of the President of the church (its first Hispanic) and some of his staff. A woman was eventually chosen to replace the President.
                This has all been written up within the church as a positive step toward more inclusion and sensitivity, and it may well be. But I’d like to know why the white guy was selected. How likely is it a church so bent on inclusion would select a white male if he were not the most qualified? I doubt we’ll ever know.
                Just when I thought things could not get stranger, I read an article in the latest UUWorld about Standing on the Side of Love, a song written in 2004 by a Unitarian Universalist minister to protest marriage discrimination. Thirteen years later it occurred to some people that the song discriminated against the handicapped. They can’t stand, you see. And I guess it didn’t occur to anyone to look up the word “metaphor.” The song’s being reworked.
                In the 1960s Li’l Abner creator Al Capp invented a group that satirized campus protesters. The group was called S. W. I. N. E., or Students Wildly Indignant About Nearly Everything. At the time I didn’t think it was funny because I was young and agreed with many things students were protesting--civil rights, Vietnam, and so on. But things have changed, and I’ve grown up. Being wildly indignant about nearly everything wears me out, and looking for innocuous things to be wildly indignant about strikes me as ludicrously unproductive.  
                Last year the Lutheran church near me had a breakfast. Dan and I went. I was extremely impressed with the minister, who reminds me a lot of the Unitarian Universalist minister who moved.
He didn’t look askance at Dan and me—even though he is Missouri Synod, and they’re not officially too accepting of gays. The church runs a thrift shop and food bank. It occurred to me this church is actually doing something to help the poor rather than just holding classes on white privilege. And they have classes on Martin Luther.
As part of a class on becoming Unitarian Universalist, we wrote our credos—what we believed. Part of my credo, from 2004, is:

“I believe, when it comes to churches, fellowship, not the official teachings of the church, is what’s important. I believe that each of us develops our own beliefs, that no two people believe exactly the same things, and that it is more important to be with people I enjoy but with whom I do not agree than it is to be around people with whom I agree but do not enjoy.”

Given how polarized the country has become since I wrote that, I’d say it’s even more important that we spend time with and listen to those we don’t agree with if for no other reason than to avoid sequestering ourselves in an echo chamber.
I doubt I’ll ever care about Transubstantiation or a host of other doctrines, but I’m going to pay a visit to that Lutheran church soon.     
                If it’s possible to be a lapsed Unitarian, I am one.


© 2017 Larry Roth

Sunday, October 1, 2017

Us versus Them, or Will the President Outsmart Himself?

                Shortly after two strong hurricanes hit the US mainland and North Korea launched a missile that flew over Japan and claimed to have detonated a hydrogen bomb, our president chose to attack… the National Football League.
                It was a successful attack in that it diverted attention away from the president’s more pressing failures and people were talking about disrespecting the flag and the national anthem (mostly by African-Americans) rather than, say, the president’s failure to get his party to repeal Obamacare, what to do about North Korea, why cleanup after the hurricanes was not progressing faster—especially in Puerto Rico, and all the other issues one would think might keep the leader of the free world busy. 
                It will come as no surprise to my readers that I’m not a fan of our president. I do agree with a couple of the things he’s accomplished, among them approving the pipelines (I’d much rather have flammable liquid transported underground than on poorly maintained rails that take it through crowded cities) and reconsidering the Title IX guidelines promulgated by President Obama regarding allegations of campus rape. But even a stopped clock is correct a couple of times a day.
                When I first heard the president’s attack, which seemed to be an afterthought at an Alabama rally for his candidate for Senate, Luther Strange, just a few days before Strange lost to Roy Moore, who undoubtedly will be an interesting addition to the Senate if he wins the seat, my initial reaction was something to the effect that doesn’t the president have something more important to do than get involved in sports?
                But maybe he doesn’t. David Brooks, who is nominally a conservative and who writes for The New York Times, said in a recent editorial, “[Trump] has a nose for every wound in the body politic and day after day he sticks a red-hot poker in one wound or another and rips it open.”
                It seems David Brooks believes our president is purposefully fomenting disagreement in order to keep us fighting each other rather than paying attention to what is going on in with our government. If we can get distracted by whether NFL players should be fired for kneeling during the national anthem, maybe we won’t notice Tom Price’s reimbursing the treasury $52,000 to repay the estimated $1,000,000 in flight expenses he racked up during his brief term as Health and Human Services Secretary or the tax reform Republicans in Congress are writing.
                I’m going to take just a slight detour here, so please humor me. Regarding the national anthem, most people don’t realize The Star-Spangled Banner became the national anthem in 1931 during the Great Depression. Perhaps Herbert Hoover thought people preferred a national anthem to help feeding their families during our country’s worst economic crisis to date.
                While I’m on my detour, maybe we should question why the national anthem gets played at sporting events. If it’s so divisive, maybe we could just skip it.
                OK. I’m back from my detour. The NFL controversy rages on, but I guess the initial rage has calmed down a bit, so just a few days ago our president started a fight with the mayor of San Juan, Puerto Rico because the mayor didn’t believe hurricane aid was being delivered quickly enough.
                Maybe the mayor had a point; maybe she didn’t, but did she deserve the president’s take-no-prisoners Twitter attack? Once again, this seems to be an “us versus them” divide and conquer tactic pitting mainland Americans against Puerto Rican (read Hispanic) Americans (and Puerto Ricans were granted citizenship in 1917, so yes, they are Americans) in order to divert attention from this administration’s “Heck of a job, Brownie” moment.
                I think the president is playing a dangerous game. He has a dedicated base who will support him no matter what. He doesn’t have to worry about most of those people. He also has a numerical (if not electoral) majority of people who do not care for him. It’s not likely that anyone in the second category will change their minds about the president no matter what he does. He has to be careful, though, with his base. If he goes too far he risks losing some of them. If he goes far enough, he may well become a real-life example of “Lonesome” Rhodes in A Face in the Crowd.      
                Let’s not be played.


© 2017 Larry Roth

Thursday, September 21, 2017

"Dark Money," "Hillbilly Elegy," and a Response to a "Hillbilly Elegy" Dissent

                Here are my takes on a couple of the books I’ve read lately as well as my response to an editorial about one of them. Enjoy.

                Jane Mayer’s Dark Money is a study of conservative billionaires who have taken advantage of the Citizens United ruling to attempt to direct the course our country takes by throwing massive amounts of money at conservative candidates who will advocate for their interests. Chief among her targets are the Koch brothers. The book is revealing—especially about the family history of these allegedly self-made billionaires. Although these folks are good about claiming they got where they are by working hard and pulling themselves up by their bootstraps, almost without exception every one of them was born into families with money and inherited their positions and money, bringing to mind Ann Richard’s comment about George H. W. Bush, “He was born on third base and thought he hit a triple.” The Koch family history is especially interesting. It seems Charles Koch didn’t feel he was inheriting enough, so he went after his brothers in an expensive, multi-year legal battle to increase his share of his father’s estate. One of his brothers may or may not be gay, and Charles was happy to break into his New York apartment, rummage through his stuff and threaten to reveal his guilty secret (or imply he had a guilty secret) to get him to give Charles control over his part of the company. All of this gives us an idea of the lengths to which the Kochs are willing to go to have their way. This includes trying their best to dig up or invent dirt on Ms. Mayer after she had written the article for the New Yorker which was the basis for this book. (She had previously written an article about liberal billionaire George Soros, who was not happy with the article but took no similar action.) And the Kochs aren’t the only ones skewered in this book. You won’t find me “saving big money at Menards.” Or buying Amway products—not that I would have, anyway.
               
                J. D. Vance has emerged of late as a spokesman for the conservative white working class largely as a result of his successful book, Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis. This book is the story of Mr. Vance’s surviving his childhood largely through the efforts of his grandmother, a foul-mouthed and unrepentant hillbilly woman who loved him. His mother was at times a drunk, an opioid abuser, a heroin addict, and had serial boyfriends and a unique way of perceiving the world. (It’s always about her.) When his grandfather died, his mother objected to his and his sister’s mourning. (“He was MY father, not yours.”) The same happened when his grandmother died, although who was more of a mother in every way except biologically could be debated. When his grandmother died, she had virtually nothing because of all the money she’d spent on her daughter’s serial rehab stays. Mr. Vance said his uncle never spoke to his sister again.
                Mr. Vance grew up in Middletown, Ohio, where his grandparents had moved from rural Kentucky for good jobs with Armco Steel. So many people from Kentucky moved to Middletown for those jobs the city became known as “Middletucky.” (Most Ohio cities have similar areas—in Columbus, Grove City is “Grovetucky.”) By J.D.’s generation, though, Armco had merged with Kawasaki, and most good jobs there were history. Thanks to his grandmother, J.D.’s grades were good enough to get him admitted to The Ohio State University, but he didn’t feel ready either for the debt he’d incur or for college, so he went into the Marines and was shipped to Iraq, where he was a communications director. After Iraq, he took advantage of the Veterans Administration’s tuition program and went to Ohio State. He eventually held down three jobs to pay his way through. He did well enough to go on to Yale Law School, where he met his future wife. At the end of this book he’s practicing law in Cincinnati.
                He compares his life to his former peers in Middletown, and notes he’s done much better, thanks to his grandmother, the Marines, and all the people who have mentored him. He worries about those left behind who didn’t have the advantages he had. He talks about those who are mired in a sense of victimhood, among them his grandmother’s able-bodied (white) neighbor who never worked and lived in Section 8 housing and on food stamps and who was always complaining about (black) welfare cheats. He gives examples of people who “can’t find jobs” while there are jobs all around them. It turns out they can’t keep jobs because, once they get jobs, they don’t show up for them and don’t do the jobs when they do show up. He says people can’t accept that the fault for their situation is theirs. Most of the people he discusses have the same background as Mr. Vance—Kentucky roots living in Ohio.
                Coincidentally, just as I finished this book, an Ohio man with Kentucky roots plowed his car into a crowd in Charlottesville, Virginia.
                One thing I really admired about Mr. Vance is he does not claim to be a self-made up-by-the-bootstraps man as do those born to wealth in Ms. Mayer’s book. Even though he held three jobs while going to school, he gives much of the credit for his success to those who helped him along the way. I wouldn’t be surprised to see J. D. Vance’s name on a ballot someday—perhaps in the next Ohio governor’s race.

                Just as I was about to publish this review the local rag published an editorial written by Betsy Rader for The Washington Post taking umbrage with Mr. Vance’s book. Ms. Rader, a Democratic candidate for Congress in Northeast Ohio, says she was born in Appalachia in the 1960s. It appears Ms. Rader was born in Coshocton, Ohio in or around 1962 and grew up in Newark, Ohio, not too many miles northeast of Columbus (and known for its iconic Longaberger building). She says her parents divorced when she was nine, which would put that divorce in or around 1971. Her mother was the single mother of four children, and they lived on $6,000 a year. At this point Ms. Rader seems to forget (or hopes her readers will forget) that she’s writing about the early 1970s. In the early 1970s, as one person who responded to Ms. Rader pointed out, $6,000 was the equivalent of $37,000 today. Admittedly not a lot of money, but a great deal more than the $6,000 Ms. Rader emphasizes. Repeatedly. I presume Ms. Rader’s mother was not, like Mr. Vance’s, a drunk, an opioid abuser, a heroin addict, etc.
                Ms. Rader takes exception to Mr. Vance’s criticism of his own family and peers (“We spend our way into the poorhouse. We buy giant TVs and iPads. Our children wear nice clothes thanks to the high-interest credit cards and payday loans. We purchase homes we don’t need, refinance them for more spending money, and declare bankruptcy… . Thrift is inimical to our being”) pointing out that her family certainly did not do that on (here we go again) $6,000 a year. Need I point out the dearth of giant TVs, iPads, credit cards, and payday lenders in 1971? Also, houses were much cheaper in 1971. A decent house in Columbus at that time could have been had for $20,000; in Newark, housing would have been even cheaper.
                Ms. Rader has some valid points, but she loses credibility when she counts on her readers’ amnesia about the differing circumstances between now and nearly fifty years ago. To me the most annoying statement in her entire diatribe is “I didn’t just pull myself up by my bootstraps. And neither did Vance.” I wonder if Ms. Rader even bothered to read the book. Mr. Vance explicitly says he did not pull himself up by his bootstraps.
                Hillbilly Elegy may well be due some criticism, but Ms. Rader, who we know will be on next year’s ballot, has written a response that brings just one word to mind, and that word is disingenuous.  

© 2017 Larry Roth

Thursday, September 7, 2017

More on "The Color of Law" and Related Topics


                I recently reviewed The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America, by Richard Rothstein. Our government’s involvement in making and keeping America segregated was news to me, so I decided to explore the topic further.

Mr. Rothstein cited Robert C. Weaver’s The Negro Ghetto, which was published in 1948. Thanks to the library’s Inter Library Loan program, I was able to get a copy of the book. The copy I read was reissued with a new preface in 1967 but was not rewritten or amended, so, with the exception of the new preface, the book is as it was written nearly 70 years ago. Mr. Weaver would become the first black cabinet member and the first secretary of Housing and Urban Development in 1966, but that was all in the future when his book was published. Mr. Weaver was closer to the events of World War II than Mr. Rothstein, and he, unlike Mr. Rothstein, tells of several successful integrated housing developments that were built for wartime workers. These were exceptions, of course, but they were built. Mr. Weaver goes into the history of enforced segregation in the north, and settles on racial covenants (which the Supreme Court ruled were unenforceable in 1948, but continued on as a requirement for FHA or VA financing) as a major culprit. One thing I really admired about this book is Mr. Weaver came up with some practical suggestions for successful integration. One is occupancy standards that bar excessive roomers, require owners and occupants to observe and assist in the enforcement of all ordinances and codes, pledge observance of neighborhood standards of maintenance, discourage departures from established architectural design, and provide for participation in neighborhood associations for the preservation of community standards. These, he says, will allow integration while maintaining existing standards. He admits this will make it difficult for some with lower incomes, but he recommends not buying or renting property beyond our means, which is good advice for people of all races.
                Mr. Weaver also proposed mass production methods of construction as a means both to build more units in a shorter period of time and bring down costs. Mr. Weaver was writing during a massive housing shortage (the country had been at war nearly four years—from 1941 to 1945, and there was a shortage of everything; my parents said they had plenty of money but nothing to spend it on—cars were in such short supply that dealers expected bribes to let go of one at full price). Evidently many conventional builders were resisting mass production.
                But as Mr. Weaver was writing this book, Levittown was popping up in what had been a potato farm in Nassau county on Long Island. It was meant to be the answer to what the returning veteran needed. As it would turn out, VA would only issue loans if racial covenants were part of deal, Supreme Court or no Supreme Court, so Mr. Weaver turned out to be half right. Mass production did speed up production (Levittown houses were produced at the rate of twelve per day) and lower the cost of housing (to just under $7,000), but mass production and occupancy standards did not end segregation.
                On a personal note, I looked at a Levittown house in the 1970s. It was the basic “Cape” model that had been built with an expansion attic that had not been expanded. The 750 square-foot house was four rooms and a bath on a concrete slab with a one-car carport. The rooms were a living room, a kitchen, and two bedrooms. It was not much larger than the apartment I was renting. (In fact, it would almost qualify as a tiny house today). There were no sewers—each home had a cesspool under the front yard (though I’ve read that sewer lines were installed in the 1970s). In short, it may have been a step up from rental housing for a returning vet, but it was not a giant step. (For a decidedly unromantic look at the postwar housing building boom, see John Keats’ 1956 book, The Crack in the Picture Window.) 

                Picking up chronologically from where Robert C. Weaver left off is Edward Humes’ Over Here: How the G.I. Bill Transformed the American Dream, a generally positive view of the G.I. Bill, which improved the lives of many returning veterans. The book discusses how colleges were a tad standoffish about accepting the hoi polloi returning from the war but wound being generally impressed with how goal-oriented most returning veterans were. The book addresses the problems blacks and women had making use of their benefits. It’s amazing how patronizing benefits counselors were toward the “little ladies” who’d been sewing up soldiers, flying as test pilots, etc., and unfortunately, many benefits counselors did their best to talk black veterans out of college. One black soldier, who grew up middle class (his father passed as white for many years) was flat told his counselor would “recommend against” his attending college (he’d already been admitted). This man knew his rights and got by his counselor, but we have to wonder how many didn’t.
                The main reason the G.I. Bill was at times less beneficial to black veterans was one of its most powerful sponsors, Representative John Elliot Rankin, of Tupelo, Mississippi demanded and got local control of the administration of the program. Mr. Humes describes Rankin as a racist and a thug, but a thug with power. (He successfully fought the passage of an anti-lynching law in 1948.) As a result, local administrators in the south simply refused to allow the VA to insure loans to black veterans. Of 3,000 VA loans issued to veterans in Mississippi, two went to black veterans.
                Black veterans may have fought for freedom overseas, but that didn’t mean they were going to enjoy those freedoms when they returned to their homes in the south.    
                Mr. Humes mentions Levittown had racial covenants but does not confirm Mr. Rothstein’s assertion that Levittown’s covenants were required by the Veterans Administration.
                The book is a good read and many of the stories Mr. Humes includes are told by those whose lives were changed by the G.I. Bill.

                I came across A City Divided: The Racial Landscape of Kansas City, 1900-1960, by Sherry Lamb Schirmer at an estate sale. The book was published by the University of Missouri Press and is heavily footnoted. The book covers racial issues in Kansas City during the first sixty years of the last century. Much of the book is old history to those of us who’ve lived here for a while, but I found the last chapter, which covers 1950 to 1958, especially interesting.
                It seems whenever eating establishments or department stores justified segregation, it was never the store owners or management who objected to black customers, it was always there were “bigoted customers” who would object to integration. Finally, blacks decided to take action and boycotted downtown department stores during the holidays in 1958. Many white customers stayed away, and the department stores felt the impact. The bottom line is the only color that really matters in the end is green.
                And on the green front, Ms. Schirmer tells a story I’d never heard about how some white people profited from the white flight prompted by integration. Fred Curls, a black Realtor, went into white neighborhoods telling homeowners there that he had just sold a home in the neighborhood to a black man, and if he could help them by selling their homes, please give him a call because he had plenty of black customers who would love to buy their homes. Eventually, they’d call, he’d sell their house (he really did have a list of black buyers), and to get it financed (remember, FHA and VA generally would not guarantee loans to black people), he’d call a group of white investors who would finance the loans at 25% interest. For reference, the loan on my parents’ home, which they built in 1958, was 5%. Everybody made out like a bandit except the white sellers.

                I picked up Lucy Moore’s Anything Goes: A Biography of the Roaring Twenties at Half Price Books. The book is a sometimes entertaining look at the 1920’s. There is a chapter on the Ku Klux Klan’s emergence during the decade which sounds a lot like the far right’s resurgence today. As an aside, I don’t have a position on the removal of Confederate statues and other Civil War memorabilia, but it’s important to remember many of the statues being protested today were erected at the time of the Klan’s resurgence as a reminder to blacks, Jews, immigrants and (especially) Catholics to toe the line—or else.
                Unfortunately, this book is more of a first draft of what could have been a very good book. If a person’s going to write about an era, you’d expect that person would have more familiarity with that era, or at least their publisher would have a fact checker with that familiarity. A few annoying examples: “Middletown” is often referenced but never explained as the subject of a book by Robert and Helen Lynd. Franklin Roosevelt’s term began in 1933, not 1932. Frederick Lewis Allen, who wrote the definitive social histories Only Yesterday and Since Yesterday about the 1920s and 1930s, respectively, loses his middle name. Both J. Edgar Hoover and A. Mitchell Palmer lose their first initials. H. L. Mencken becomes Henry. Both the “Know-Nothings” and the great Mississippi flood of 1927 are attributed to the “Southwest.” (Ms. Moore was educated in both the U.S. and Great Britain, where she now resides; perhaps her education skipped over geography.) O.K., all the preceding might be minor, but a major clunker is encountered when Ms. Moore states (on page 157) that Florida was “made newly habitable by air conditioning and refrigeration.” Personally, I question whether Florida has ever been habitable, but the people who moved there in the 1920s certainly did not have air conditioning available to them in their homes. And Ms. Moore and her publishers should have known better.

                That said, the book is an OK read, but if you’re in school and writing a paper on the 1920’s, by all means check a second source before using this one as a reference.

© 2017 Larry Roth