Modern Services, Same Jesus

This weekend, the daughter that still pretends to love me took her first step towards true entrepreneurship. It seems that, several months ago, during her long car ride home with her mother (the good parent) she had nothing better to do with her time than tie some 60 balloons onto her three dollar WalMart flip flips. While they strike me as a god-awful boat shoe for Bozo the Clown, the child may actually be on to something here.

So, after just a few moments on eBay, and a hastily arranged Daddy/Daughter Promissory Note with the Option for Convertible Debentures subordinated by a Senior Lien, Security Agreement, Unconditional Personal Guaranty, Indemnification Agreement, a blended Synthetic Leveraged Lease, and an iron-clad absolute warranty to take care of Daddy in his old age, my baby incurred her first business debt. With a misty eyed gaze filled with love and admiration that only a father can have for a child, I said, "My baby just incurred her first business debt." Since I don't let her read this crap, she missed my earlier condemnation of all things debt related, and therefore missed the slight hint of sarcasm seasoned with the musky but bold after-taste of dry witticism.

Her eyes lit up, bathing in the approval, and emitted an abbreviated "Wheeee!" A pause, and then, "That is good, right?" Oh the trials and tribulations of raising a pre-teen.

So far, this teaching exercise in modern day capitalism seems to have more traction than my attempt, when she was at the delicate age of 6, to explain the intricacies of franchise law as it applies to the local McDonald's. I would like to think that I have somehow impressed upon my baby the desirability to be her own boss, blaze her own path, make her own Google type mouse trap. Alas, she is my daughter, and, deep down I know that what really drives her is the joy of living vicariously through my eBay purchasing power, and the opportunity to fleece her closest friends out of their parents' hard earned money by selling a simple but otherwise unavailable product for three times her cost. Intuitively, I know that greed can be a powerful teacher, now I fear that the measure of being a good dad to this child will be determined by whether or not she winds up as a litigant in Tax Court during her lifetime. Of my children, this one is most likely to have the entrepreneurial fire.

Even more so than usual, I am proud of my baby for coming up with the idea, and for having the desire to bring her creation to life. Except for the branding, the entire thing was her idea (so far as I know). I helped with the name for her balloon emblazoned flip-flops... Ballyhoo's. Available in women's sizes 4-10. Order now for Christmas. $10 plus $2.50 shipping and handling charge. Get yours at infinitegtr@gmail.com before Paris Hilton buys a pair and makes them instantly passe'.

There is more at stake here than a Junior Achievement badge for small business development.

I recently, and belatedly, started reading Jack Weatherford's modern wonder "A History of Money." Given the current state of consumer protection laws and the E-Z access to E-Z credit, this book should be mandatory reading for all grade schoolers, high schoolers, college students, bus drivers, Democrats, agnostics, and registered voters. It should be issued in all 50 states along with marriage licenses. A miniature version should be handed out by the VFW during the 4th of July parade, along with the pocket copy of the U.S. Constitution. The book should be set to music, the lyrics pounded out by a Johnny Cash impersonator.

One of the more compelling issues raised by Weatherford is his recounting of the financial troubles encountered by the Roman Empire as the Germanic barbarians were marching towards the Coliseum. The Romans produced very little of their own food and other necessary goods. This meant that Roman gold and silver was carted off to far-flung places such as Egypt, India and China, in exchange for grain, spices, silk, and all the other items that a Greco-Roman Martha Stewart would find necessary properly entertain her guests. Meanwhile, the Romans spent time eating, drinking, orgying, feeding Christians to lions, marching the Legions around, and spending their days looking imperial. Read another way, none of the Romans wore flame retardant shirts with their names sewn on the pocket; instead they were increasingly consultants, advertisers, or performance coaches.

For a while, Roman emperors were able to "debase" the Roman currency, which meant they put less and less silver and gold into their coinage, and put in more and more worthless metals to maintain size and weight. Eventually, shopkeepers and soldiers alike figured this out, and prices rose so that vendors and shopkeepers got the correct weight in silver. As this trick got old, Rome had no choice but to expand its empire, looting more treasure from the conquered, and demanding more and more goods so that Rome could reduce its dependence on foreign food. (As a curious side note, Alan Greenspan was a struggling college freshman during the last years of the Roman Empire. A few years later, he penned and defended his now infamous thesis: The Renaissance: The Irrational Exuberance of the Middle Ages).

Does any of this sound familiar yet? Ever heard of a service based economy? How about an economy driving down an information highway? When was the last time that anyone stopped wandering around staring at their Rolex watch, put down the PSP, unplugged from the iPod, turn off the Hitachi 72 inch HDTV, or parked the SmartLease financed Lexus long enough to consider what, exactly, that world-renowned trade medium also known as the US Dollar really is.

There was a guy who was a brilliantly talented artist, and perhaps a fellow smart-ass, who made some interesting observations. It seems that the hero of this little vignette, Tim Prusmack, spent his all-too short days on Earth free-handing his own currency. (To be clear, Prusmack was not engaging in counterfitting of any kind. His activities were limited to commercial, artisitc endeavors, and he is sorely missed). As I recall one of the stories, Prusmack once convinced his waitress at a burger joint that she should give to him a number of hamburgers in exchange for one of his pieces of paper, which looked like US Currency. As the story goes, Prusmack explained, quite correctly, that the US government has convinced people the world over to exchange goods and services for green pieces of paper which happen to carry the tag line legal tender, for all debts public and private. If the government's piece of paper was worth a hamburger, why shouldn't his piece of paper also equal the value of a hamburger? His interesting observations also earned him some interesting friends from the US Treasury Department.

I suspect that far more Americans know the name of Brittney Spear's baby then understand the ramifications of the US currency system being unhinged from the gold standard.

"An almost hysterical antagonism toward the gold standard is one issue which unites statists of all persuasions. They seem to sense... that gold and economic freedom are inseparable." -- Alan Greenspan.

My daughter's latest exercise in free enterprise may not reverse the same trend which may have single-handedly doomed the last "Last Superpower", even on a microeconomic level. I doubt that my daughter's Ballyhoos will spark the flame under the kindling of socioeconomic revolution, thereby saving us from that same fate of the Romans. The flip flops we ordered are imported from Brazil, the balloons we buy will have been shipped from Hong Kong, or perhaps Korea. All the same, on Christmas morning, when your loved ones open the BIG gift, after they shower you with love and affection for putting them on the cutting edge of flip-flop fashion, point out the tag sewn on the underneath of the straps. It is the one that says, "Made in... Formerly Living".