Considering the kinds of subjects covered in this blog, it’d be hard for me not to at least mention the recent bank failures. I won’t get into any sort of economic analysis here — I’ll leave that to others. What’s most important is to understand the (potential) effects and what that’ll mean to individual Americans.
You and me, that is.
When a bank fails, the first casualty is confidence. Uncertainty ripples throughout depositors and investors, and it’s never limited to the bank (or banks) that went under — the natural human reaction is to doubt and distrust the very practice of handing our money to any company that promises to keep it safe or make it grow (or both).
People often respond by withdrawing their money from banks (failed or not), resulting in a “run,” which for a financial institution is unsurvivable. If there are enough runs on enough banks, the entire sector can collapse.
Government, with nothing more to offer than clumsy symbolism, always steps in and always fails to correct the fundamental flaws that led tto the defaults. And government always bows only to the largest depositors — individual citizens never benefit.
We’re seeing that play out now.
The current occupant of the Oval Office and his cabal are poison — not only to American culture and our constitutional republic, but to every facet of the national economy. If you were smart enough to recognize that when it became apparent (basically in January of 2021), then you’ve already taken steps to secure your assets. And you almost certainly didn’t rely on a big bank or a financial advisor.
You’re probably doing business with a local or regional bank. Your investment portfolio has been allocated heavily into cash accounts, especially if you’re older than 45. Most important, perhaps even exclusively, you’re operating on the principle that if you can’t hold it in your hand, you don’t own it.
Now if you haven’t done any of that, it’s not too late to put your financial affairs in order, but time is short. The American economy is brittle. Get moving. Put your money where it can serve you.
I’ll explain what I mean by that in future posts.
This was one of those “teaser” days — spring is taunting us. Clear skies overnight drove pre-dawn temps below freezing, but the forecast called for an afternoon high right around 60°F. With that on tap, we knew exactly how (and where) we’d spend our Wednesday.
Deb’s cousin wasn’t around when we arrived on The Mountain, so we went straight to the shed, rolled out the Ranger and rumbled down the road. There was no point in pausing at the homesite, still halted in mid-dig. We continued up to the summit.
The Ozarks sky was impossibly blue. The still-air temp stayed in the mid-50s until mid-afternoon, and the air was indeed still. With no leafy canopy overhead, we shed our puffy vests in no time.
Smudge made her first visit to the summit itself, seeming to draw the same energy from the place that we do. We did our best to run that energy out of her, and she cooperated happily.
We wore her puppy ass out. Tonight, she’s gassed.
I wandered away from Deb and our Heeler at one point and climbed the ladder to her cousin’s tree stand, taking in the season’s last clear view of the territory around us. Breathtaking.
Today’s images say what words can’t. Great day.
One year ago today we did what we had to do — we launched from Ozarkansas and pointed Ernie toward Ohio. It was the first day of a three-day push back to Second Chance Ranch, ending pleasantly at a KOA just west of St. Louis.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.