- Planted a ton of purple pansies from Home Depot today as a Palm Sunday celebration. It's cold as heck out, but those Pansies have antifreeze. Dosed them with Miracle-Gro, but they are probably too cold to absorb it.
- Mrs. BD ran down to NYC instead of church to take a long, cold, brisk walk with the Bird Dog-ette along the Hudson River. Chelsea Piers to Battery Park, and back: an fine urban hike. She works in finance. She still needs her Mom sometimes. Her job is secure: they cannot do without her - and she is cheap for what she does. She is worried, though. If her bonus is taxed at 90%, she and her roomates cannot afford their apartment. 80% of her compensation is bonus. The salary is just token. Speaking of token, she doesn't need subway tokens: she speed-hikes 40 minutes each morning in the dark to mid-town from Chelsea, and hikes back home in the dark. 15-hour workdays - and she loves it (most of it). Some people love daily math and complex structured finance challenges at a minute's notice with a 4-hour deadline to redo the details - and some don't. "It's fun. It forces me to think fast, Dad." 80-150 million dollar muni deals. It's not for everybody. A lot of travel too, but she loves that.
- A chat with the gentle young Moslem Bangladeshi mini-mart guy at 5 this morning, whose wife and mother-in-law have arrived after a four-year immigration wait. He takes a cab to work at 1 AM: he is saving all of his money instead of buying a car. "How's the family adjusting to America?" "Pretty good. It's cold for them. I had to buy them coats." "How's their English coming along?" "Good. They study every day. It's coming along fast. My wife just got a job." "Doing what?" "Customer service." "My friend, I love these stories. Tell them I welcome them to America." "I will. Thank you."
No doubt these people are "the poor." America's poor are the young, the new immigrants, the feckless, the self-destructive - plus some plain unfortunate folks who get struck by bad lightning. These new Americans from Bangladesh are as rich as Croesus in spirit, hope, and opportunity, and they ask for nothing from America but a chance to build a life and a friendly word once in a while.
What a wonderful country. No wonder every sturdy soul in the world wants to come here. Too bad we have so many crybabies, when we have people like my minimart guy. Meanwhile, the Obamanauts complain.
