To see how socialism will look in 10 years, check out the elderly unemployed

Today's WSJ has another anecdotal article on the economy today, this time on the elderly unemployed. Three in their 80s, one 90 year old, and a 76 year old--all unemployed. They have social security, food stamps, Medicare, Medicaid, various government social services like 27 months of paid job training--I don't think any were in government housing. In short, they are our future, because Obama is destroying our economy. He's following the pattern of the 1930s when Hoover and FDR threw money at the problem and deepened the Depression. Our pensions will be worthless soon if business can't recover. We are, or were, a capitalist country and so far all his proposals and plans like destroying our energy industry, the absurd plans to control the climate, and nationalizing banks, auto industry and health care, huge segments of the economy, do not bode well for the future of the USA. Our future is these workers. Barely getting by with all the generosity a bloated government wishes to bestow.

I suspect those in the story who have families would have help if they wanted it, or else they raised some very spoiled children. The divorced 80 year old raised 7 children, and if none of them help her, there's probably material for a novel. The 90 year old has six sons. Two of these workers took out home equity loans when things were good a few years back. Another never married and has outlived all her relatives.

Actually, the 90 year old isn't unemployed. When she quit waitressing at 85, she went into a job training program.

Getting hired isn't impossible. Dorothy Adams, 90, who raised six sons, had been a waitress. She quit at age 85 because of the physical demands. She couldn't make it on $8,000 a year in Social Security and $1,140 in food stamps, so she enrolled in an Experience Works training program in central Pennsylvania.

She got a job last year at a home-health-care agency. She drives to the homes of elderly adults who are sick and homebound. She reads them their mail, takes them to appointments, helps them dress and prepares light meals. She gets paid $7.50 an hour, plus mileage reimbursement.

Social Security and Food Stamps were intended to supplement, not support. These people did not have private pensions like 401k or 403b or defined benefit plans. If the markets can't recover under Obama, neither will we.

3431 More on early retirement

Seems I was the only one who thought Sheryl McCarthy in the Forum section of USA Today was expecting too much protectionism for her older worker status yesterday. The comments following her Opinion forum tell some mighty sad stories of well-qualified, highly educated and superior employees put out to pasture much too early.

So was I just being an old meany, or did I have a little personal experience? Let me offer three examples, as the spouse of an unemployed worker, the superviser doing the hiring, and the government employment trainer.

My husband lost his job in 1976 while he was still in his 30s. It's terribly traumatic when you've got two little kids to feed and clothe and a mortgage, car payment, etc. but no job. We were not a two income family, we had a tiny savings for emergencies, and the paycheck stretched to about the 29th of the month. You've heard of the Great Depression? 1977-79 was the era of The Great Inflation (Carter was president and I think we had a Democratic congress). In the building trades, we were dead in the water a few years before the worst recession since the 1930s (1981-82, until Reagan got his tax cuts in place and turned things around). Big firms were gobbling up jobs they would have sneered at even two years earlier, leaving nothing for the smaller firms. My husband was only out of work three weeks, but emotionally it took years for him to recover. He was griped by fear and lost a lot of weight dropping below 130 lbs. Although he was hired by a good firm and eventually became a partner and owner, the personal dynamics were awful (and he's a very easy guy to get along with), but the earlier scare kept him there until 1994 when he left to start his own firm as sole practitioner.

In 1978 I took a wonderful contract, part-time position in the OSU agriculture library working in the agricultural credit field and there was enough money in the grant (Dept. of State) for me to hire a clerical assistant to do the typing, binding of documents, and filing. One of the candidates I interviewed was 10 years older than me and taking post graduate work to get a PhD in economics (my background was languages, not business). She was desperate for a job--any job. She was so incredibly over qualified it wasn't funny, and she hoped she'd left clerical work in her past. I hired a work-study undergrad. I simply didn't feel comfortable supervising a woman better educated and older than me--but I also believe it was not a job for a PhD candidate. The 19 year old loved it, did a terrific job because she had had many similar jobs (and I was a great boss), graduated and moved on.

In 1983, just as the economy was starting to pick up, I took a JTPA (formerly CETA) funded contract, part-time position with the Ohio Department of Aging helping agencies and organizations who would retrain older people to find new jobs. Many businesses hadn't made it through those bad years of the late 70s early 80s and older workers had trouble even preparing resumes. I learned two critical things about older workers: First, we can learn new skills and methods, but after age 25 it's like teaching a child with learning disabilities--it takes longer and needs to be approached from a variety of angles; Second, if you're unemployed and going to look for work, you need to put in 40 hours a week looking--your new job is to get a job. The way you submit resumes is different today, but you still need to get down to business immediately and not let up on the search.

Because I had so many part-time and temporary jobs, I've also learned over the years that when you're gone, it's over. Don't expect office or professional friendships to last unless there is something besides work holding it together, like church or hobbies. They'll all be trying to hang on to their jobs too, needing current professional contacts that can assist them. You'll have fewer hurt feelings and remorse if you just let it go.

Monday Memories

Did I ever tell you about my plan to open a bookstore?

After three really terrific contract librarian positions at Ohio State University from 1978-1983, I finally landed a full-time, tenure-track, faculty rank job. Problem was, it was incredibly clerical and I hated it, so I resigned. What to do? By this time the children had entered high school. "Oh, I know, I'll open a business--a book store." The kids could help--keep them off the streets, etc. We would bond. How hard could it be?

I visited the local Mom and Pop Christian bookstores and chatted up the owners. To my discerning ear these folks had no experience either in business or with books; they prayed, and poof! a store fell in their laps. Well, I could do that! So I prayed, and prayed and prayed, but I sure didn't see any doors opening up that said, "Bookstore Here." I also visited a franchise Christian bookstore and wrote to the company, and discovered that would take about $70,000 (which was a lot of money then--still is, actually). And yes, I read one book about the publishing industry (although I was a librarian I didn't have the foggiest idea how books were made and distributed).

So I thought maybe God was waiting for me to do something. Experience maybe? So I dropped in at the Pickwick Discount Books which had recently opened near us (a division of the Dayton-Hudson chain I think) and applied for a job. The assistant manager was thrilled to have me, said she could only pay me $.25 above minimum wage, but I could buy books at the employee discount. I figured it was for my education in the school of hard knocks, so I didn't care. Besides, I was on my way to my dream of owning a bookstore! Pause here for reflection: I've checked my resume, but you don't usually stick minimum wage jobs in the middle of your professional work record, so can't place the date, but I think it was fall 1983.

Reality is what wakes you up from a dream, not a nightmare. Let me count the ways that clued me in this wasn't for me. Ten things come to mind that returned me to the bosom and comfort of state employment.

1) The building had formerly been a pharmacy (Nicklaus, as in Jack's parents), and had no elevator, but all books and magazines were stored in the basement, which meant hand carrying them up a steep stairway for stocking the shelves. Worse though, was carrying them down. Freight operators are unionized, and their contract called for dumping the boxes of books at an address, not inside the door. If cars were in the way, they might be placed anywhere on the parking lot. We clerks had to bring these terribly heavy boxes inside on a dolly, and carry them to the basement storage. Rain or storm--we had to bring them in, and just look awful for the customers.

2) Destroying books was part of the job. For a librarian that was like drowning kittens. We had to sit in the cold basement for hours and tear covers off books that couldn't be returned (all those print runs you read about are phony statistics--printed doesn't mean sold). The covers were tracked and bundled for return and credit. Then the guts had to be carried back up the stairs and lifted over your head into the outside dumpster some distance from our building so people wouldn't steal them. Between ripping up boxes with heavy staples, and stripping covers off books, my hands felt like bad sandpaper.

3) We had to accept whatever magazines the distributor dropped off. I heard (but couldn't confirm) that the distributor in Columbus had ties to organized crime. That might explain all the obscenely trashy porn we got. We women staffers would conveniently leave most of them in the basement, bringing up only the better known titles like Hustler and Playboy, and trust me when I say they were definitely gross, but were the least objectionable. But even having to handle these disgustingly anti-female, violent porn rag sheets was traumatic.

4) The sweet assistant manager who hired me was only making $.50 more an hour than I was, but had horrid hours, and was always on call. I never did her job, which seemed to be constantly checking computerized sheets on a clipboard and sending reports. She dressed and wore her hair like a 1960s flower-child. Her live-in boyfriend also worked there and she was his supervisor. I guess it isn't nepotism if you're not married. I rode a bike to work on nice days because I lived near-by--I don't think they had a car or a choice. The stress of the job made her colitis act up and she was sick a lot.

5) The cash register was probably the latest version of computerization, and I never caught on. I couldn't clear an error, or get the drawer to open, or accept a gift certificate. I was the clerk you either feel very sorry for or hate if you're waiting in line. My self-esteem plummeted the few months I worked there. I was 43, but you become an "older learner" around age 25 (your brain cells freeze), and I never had enough time to learn anything well. The public can get a bit testy. Hateful, actually. I would almost start to tremble if I got a complicated transaction and the customer decided to be chatty.

6) Our best clerk who was a whiz with the register and bailing me out, resigned to go work as a paraprofessional in a - - library! Not once did I ever see her smile. Almost no place pays as low as libraries, so she wasn't making much either.

7) Books were disappearing and we discovered the thief was an OSU grad student who worked at the - - library!

8) Most of my tiny salary went for books because the discount was so good, and books were already discounted (many remainders and overruns).

9) The district manager was "transferred" by corporate to Minnesota when she was 8 1/2 months pregnant. Her husband was employed in Columbus, so I don't know what she did. Leaving her OB at that point, or packing for a move, would have been tough. She could barely walk, but would've needed her medical benefits.

10) But the most memorable event was the day my daughter called and said, "Mom, I've cleaned up most of the blood but you need to come home and take [her brother] to the ER." He had forgotten his key and decided to go in through a window.

No, I never opened that bookstore, but smile and nod with recognition when someone mentions that as an ideal business venture.

1. Melli, 2. Lazy Daisy, a genius in the family 3. Lady Bug, funny story about hubby 4. Carmen (a meme but no memory when I checked) 5. Chelle, a teacher we wish we all had, 6. Libragirl's memory is really fresh, 7. Renee faces life's storms, 8. Purple Kangaroo, mommy of 3 adorables, 9. Beckie, recalling blessings, 10. Shelli's dear friend

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