acloudtree

Category oregon

The fallout from “Cash for Clunkers”

Cash for clunkers has been over for a while now, and the MSM (main stream media) probably thinks the story is over. But I went out to dinner with some friends last night. One of the gentlemen is in the car sales industry and the impact from the program is still carving a giant ditch through his life.

“Tony, if I wanted to purchase a car, how much buying power would I have right now?” I asked

“Dude, it is dead Jared. For a while there, it was amazing, but now, there are no f*cking sales what-so-ever.” hands waving, pointing to me with his thumb while he spoke.

Now, it is already my opinion that Cash for Clunkers is a Titanic of a failure. That it will eventually to be seen for doing more bad than good. But I wanted to see what Tony’s opinion is so I asked. ”The government has been touting the Cash for Clunkers program as a massive success.”

“Maybe for a month or two” he reasoned. “But now, it is even worse than before” stated with a matter-o-fact sincerity. “Despite the mess, I would have to say that I am the lucky one.”

Curious to see how he could possibly consider himself lucky, I asked “How do you figure that?”

“Well, at least I have the opportunity to sell new cars. Its worse for these mom and pop used car places, they have been going under like crazy.” He could tell by my face that I was still not following his logic.

“Jared, we scrapped all their potential inventory with Cash for Clunkers” he reached for his beer, pulled it to his mouth and swallowed the last of the liquid that the glass contained. Then looking at me, he continued. “I have a buddy who is telling me they can’t find any used cars in their price range that have even the smallest margin to make a profit. The only ones they can find are pieces of garbage. And without inventory, they are folding.” slamming his empty pint glass on the table.

Finally connecting the dots and letting his point sink in for a moment, I revealed my beliefs.

“Well Tony, I can honestly say I am not surprised.”

It was his turn to be curious. “And why is that?”

“Lets use an example.” I begin. “Say you take five months, August, September, October, November, December, and January” Interested, Tony leaned forward and so I continued “And say that every month, on average, you sell 10,000 vehicles. How many vehicles total are we talking about?”

“Ok” he said thinking. “Well 5 months x 10,000 vehicles a month is 50,000 vehicles”

“Right!” I say in a congratulatory inflection. “The market is dictating the need for new vehicles, and it is saying that in those 5 months, it only needs 50,000 vehicles sold”

“Now, lets pretend that all of the sudden, cars for the months of August and September are HALF OFF! The market still only needs to sell 50,000 vehicles, so how many cars do you think would sell in those two months?” I questioned.

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if you sold all 50,000 in those two months alone” he surmised.

“Then how many would you sell for the months of October, November, December, and January?”

Raising his eyebrow, he spoke with some disdain “Not that many”

“Yeah” I said with a sour face and staunch agreement. “Not that many. And the danger is that we don’t know how many cars the Government pulled from future sales to sell during the Cash for Clunkers program. Was it 5 months? Was it 10 months? We just don’t know.”

“Then it makes sense why all these car places are going under” Tony’s voice was growing pretty hollow at this point. He looked down into his empty glass for what seemed like a long while. Then, Tony turned to look up at me and said

“I just am trying to make it through winter”

And I could see that underneath the warmth of the intoxicating Stout he had just drank, there was real fear. Real pressure. So looking him directly in the eyes, I smiled encouragingly and said

“Aren’t we all man, aren’t we all” and ordered another round.

We shit on the ones we love

Three years ago, I went out to a farm. Pulling up to the double wide, I parked the 4runner, and stepped out.

“Howdy!” a gal said as I approached.

“Hi” came my response. “I’m here about the German Shepherd puppies.”

“Well, they are right over here” she said pointing, then lead me to a gated area where six adorable puppies played. All of them were jumping, biting, and climbing over each other.

I knelt down and started the process. Reaching out a hand, stroking and touching all of them. The pack never seemed afraid or concerned, they seemed to feel that I was just another litter-mate. One of the males caught my eye and so I picked him up. And as I stared at him, I wondered;

Is this the one?

It was about this time that I felt something rather warm spread across the crook of my arm. Right where the pup’s hind quarters were. And looking down I saw and smelled the streak of crap, as it trailed itself down my shirt. It was accompanied by the newly began thumping of the puppy’s tail against my skin.

The woman’s eyes went wide. “Here-” she said “-give him to me” obviously disturbed.

Laughing to myself, I said “No he is fine.” then turning to face her, out came the words “I’ll take him.”

Her eyes grew even wider. “Really?” Shock now out-sourcing the statement to extreme disbelief.

“Yeah, I have to now-” the laughter still bubbling. “-he would be misunderstood with anyone else.” And that is how Stoic the dog came to be a part of our family.

Now three years later, I sit next to a tub and bathe my seven week old daughter. Stoic the dog protectively watches his newly acquired charge as I gently soap her body. Washing the creases and the folds, the ears and the toes. I turn on the faucet and start to rinse the suds from her skin when suddenly she begins to slip from my grasp. Without hesitation, I grab a quick hold, and scoop her and an arm full of water towards me. Her little body bounces against my chest, along with the wet as it drenches my shirt.

I can see Stoic the dog watching me out of the corner of my eye, catching me in my mistake. And the anger at myself over almost dropping my daughter makes me mutter a frustrated “Well shit!”

Not realising the prophetic nature of my words, and still clutching Gracie to my chest, I hear an outburst from below. A sound, that if my grandfather were to hear, he would make sure to retort “Report from Berlin!”

Looking down, I see Christmas green combined with the texture of oatmeal, exploding like a bug on a windshield across my soaked shirt. And with the sounds of artillery still firing out the behind of my baby girl, I turn and come face to face with Stoic the dog. Whom, I kid you not, tilts his head, perks his ears, and smiles at me.

Frustration melts away, replaced with deja vu glazed laughter. I smile, reach out my free hand, and give my puppy a pat on the head. “Yeah boy, we can keep her” I begin sheepishly. The thump and beat of a large doggy tail against the bathroom door starts to sound his consent. Then pulling my eyes back to my daughter, I lovingly say “She would be misunderstood with anyone else”

Bernanke is a joke

This whole financial disaster is just a crock! Hop in the way back machine and travel with me to an age of kool-aid and greed.

Back in 05′ I was just a wee grass hopper, only twenty four years of age. And the world was a hustling and a bustling. Everywhere, people were going a million miles a minute, especially in Bend Oregon.

If you were to ask the people around you what they were running around so much for, the would have answered, “Well, I’m building wealth of course”. And as I have mentioned before on this blog, everyone was chiming the same freaking lines. The most basic of which was “BUY REAL ESTATE”.

“But why?” I would ask.

“Kid, haven’t you heard? Real estate only goes up.” they would all say.

So what does a guy like me do? I research the crap out of the housing market, which leads me to try and understand economics and markets in general (stock, emerging, etc). I realise that things “are not adding up” and soon conclude that we have a serious bubble on our hands. And it will not end well.

Also, I ended up warning my friends (or trying to). But did any of my friends listen to me? Nope. I even went so far as to write a program to scrape housing data from the county website to prove my stupid point. And what do most of my friends face today? Either foreclosures, short sales, or high mortgage payments.

And so I sit with my little munchkin in my arms and wonder. If little ol’ Jared could see what was happening, why couldn’t Ben Bernanke? And I’ll tell you why, because Ben Bernanke is a frickin joke.

Ticket to Ride (City of Bend Edition)

 After a restless night with my two-week-old daughter, I woke up bright and early and ready or not, prepared for the workday. Groggily going through my morning routine, I scalded myself while showering, cut myself whilst shaving, and bit my tongue during breakfast. Wearing both the smile and bloodied toilet paper polka dots of a dutiful husband and new father, I whispered I love you to my still sleeping wife and baby, and then headed out the door.

On our driveway sat our 1990 4runner, body frosted and windows frozen over. Watching my breath freeze before me, I started up the vehicle and began scraping all the windows with an ice scraper I had plucked from the cab. Satisfied that I could see clearly through the windshield and with the cold seeping into my bones, I hopped in the vehicle and headed towards work.

Read more

Copyright © Jared Folkins
Programming, Computers, Writing, Economics, and Life

Powered by WordPress