At the Car Wash

Posted on January 5, 2024 by Marty Ryan

Years ago, I attended a round-table discussion with the late Congressman from Iowa, Leonard Boswell. He wanted to know what small businesses needed to compete. Most people at the meeting talked about taxes, paperwork, etc., while one business owner replied “customers.” I never thought of it before that day, but that reply made the most sense. How to acquire more customers is probably not something the government can assist with.

Operating a small business is tough. A locally-owned bookstore must compete with Amazon. A family-owned restaurant has to compete with McDonald’s, Chipotle, and IHOP. And locally-owned gas stations are a thing of the past. It is my opinion that the fastest growing small business is that of washing cars.

Driving east on Hickman Road in Des Moines one afternoon, I noticed a previously vacant lot had construction activity. My first thought was that it might be a new small business. “That’s good,” I thought. A few days later I was driving on East Fourteenth Street and saw the construction of a similar building with similar colors. I paid closer attention and realized a new car wash was being erected. It was an identical match to the building on Hickman Road. It dawned on me: “How many car washes does Des Moines need?”

When I was actively lobbying at the Iowa Capitol, a man named Bill Smith befriended me. Actually, he was the third lobbyist at the Capitol that year whose name happened to be Bill Smith. The other two Smiths were Iowans and at least one of the Bills lobbied issues similar to the ones I worked on. Why this particular Smith wanted to buy my lunch occasionally perplexes me to this day. I suspect he was using receipts to show his client that he was speaking with legislators. Usually, legislators in Iowa cannot accept a meal from a lobbyist because of cost limitations (and the potential for being outed for having a lack of ethics). Bill must have noticed that I enjoy eating. I tried not to accept his generosity, but his money to the cashier was far quicker than the eye. His issue was to eliminate sales tax on car washes. I knew that, and I would have opposed that matter if I had a client who cared. He sat with me at a table in the cafeteria, so I imagine he also wanted to talk to someone interesting. There is no doubt that I was an interesting character. That’s probably why most people didn’t want to sit with me.

I don’t know how he accomplished his goal since I never saw him talk to a legislator, but a provision in a bill toward the end of the session included his brief lobbying success.

NEW SUBSECTION. 96. The sales price from the sale of water, electricity, chemicals, solvents, sorbents, or reagents to a retailer to be used in providing a service that includes a vehicle wash and wax, which vehicle wash and wax service is subject to section 423.2, subsection 6.

The language above was enacted and is added to the rest of the one-hundred nine [109] exemptions from state sales tax.  The exemption allows car wash owners to avoid paying sales tax on “water, electricity, chemicals, solvents, sorbents, or reagents to a retailer to be used in providing a service that includes a vehicle wash and wax.”

Prior to May 25, 2012, every five dollars you paid to wash your vehicle had 30 cents deducted from the owner’s profit to pay a sales tax. It’s even more significant in the Des Moines area now since the sales tax rate has increased to seven percent from the six percent rate of 2012. It’s not just the increase in nickels and dimes flowing into the pockets of car wash owners, there’s also an added benefit of not having to comply with the monthly sales tax paperwork.

However, like Walter and Skyler White in Breaking Bad, I also have to think that many of these so-called small businesses might be laundering more than automobiles.

No wonder car washes in Des Moines are sprouting up faster than coffee kiosks.

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New Year, New Outlook

Posted on December 29, 2023 by Stephanie Fawkes-Lee

As a child, celebrating Christmas seemed infinite. It was taken for granted that the same people would be celebrating year-after-year. Time changes this outlook. Siblings grow up and move away, starting families of their own and creating new traditions. Divorce and death take others, until you enter the last stages of life and realize that this may be the last holiday celebration. Yet with this realization, there is a tendency to reflect on the people that have passed away and the traditions lost with them.

My sister Alison passed away almost eight years ago. She led a difficult life, needing to flee a southwestern state with her infant daughter and change her identity to escape a dangerously abusive relationship. She struggled financially, yet every Christmas she would send baked goods to her immediate family members who were spread out across the country. The cookies and candies would carry a lingering taste of cigarette smoke, but the gift wasn’t the quality of the product, it was the love she put into the gift to share with the people she loved.

Holding this belief directly conflicts with the Character Counts Program, based on the training I attended twenty-five years ago. Two of my children were attending Clegg Park Elementary School that was a pilot program for Character Counts when we first moved to West Des Moines in 1997. They were taught that there were six pillars that represented a person of character: trustworthiness, respect, responsibility, fairness, caring and citizenship. When I raised my concerns about the program conflicting with the goals I was trying to achieve with my children, the school principal shipped me off to a training program with teachers from the school.

One of the examples given during the training was a story about a recent widow who wanted to show her deep appreciation for her minister’s support during this difficult and painful time. She decided to bake a pie for his family. Apparently, the family didn’t care for it. So, after the next Sunday service, the woman asked her minister if they enjoyed the pie. He told her that they did not. The belief being that she would continue to make these pies for other people, and a person of character is demonstrating a caring act by letting her know that her pies stink.

This example stays firmly in my memory as the Character Counts program spread across the country. I’m not sure what bothers me more, the brutal comments made by a man representing the love of Jesus, or the sheer arrogance that one person’s taste in pies should be held by all. For example, my husband Marty made a lovely homemade apple cream pie for a neighborhood pot luck. Someone else brought a Hy-Vee apple pie that was devoured by the attending local fire fighters. Now I personally don’t care for the store-bought pie crust, but I understand that others don’t care for homemade products. No one is right or wrong, it is just preferences developed through life experiences.

That was my goal with my children, the ability to not only accept the differences in people, but to seek out, learn from and understand people that are different. The richest resource in this country is the numerous people that hold different life experiences, values and beliefs. The problem with programs that want to set specific standards is the eventual results.

Now as we witness the increasing anger and division of our country resulting from deeply embedded fear of diversity, I’m reminded of the minister and the arrogance of anyone thinking that there is only one acceptable set of values or beliefs. The only standard set when I was a child was the Golden Rule that is followed by most religions: Treat other people the way that you would like to be treated. Somehow, I don’t think the minister would enjoy having the widow tell him that his sermon stunk.

We wish our readers and supporters a Happy New Year and ask that you consider this New Year’s Resolution:

Seek out and truly listen to people with a different viewpoint and learn from their experiences instead of judging them.

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Censorship – Revisited

Posted on December 4, 2023 by Marty Ryan

THIS IS A REPOST FROM NOVEMBER, 2021

Censorship: “the suppression or prohibition of any parts of books, films, news, etc. that are considered obscene, politically unacceptable, or a threat to security.”

What is so attractive about shutting down the ability of another to read, see, or hear what may be offensive to you but not to others?

I feel like we’re back in the 1980s when government attempted to shut down rap music, performance artists, photography by Robert Mapplethorpe, and books that had been banned in earlier decades.

President Reagan’s Attorney General, Edwin Meese, established the Attorney General’s Commission on Pornography in 1986.  It was commonly known as The Meese Commission. “At the end, the commission issued a bulky two-volume report, much of it consisting of detailed narrations of the plots of pornographic movies dutifully set down by FBI agents who’d been assigned to view them – at taxpayers’ expense, of course.”  Not one of those FBI agents turned into a sexual predator.  However, the commissioners believed dysfunctional predators who had testified to the commission that “Porn made me do it.”  It was laughable.  More laughable was the fact that former Attorney General John Ashcroft had blue drapes made to cover the bare breasts of Lady Justice.

Recently, Toni Morrison’s book, Beloved, was the focus of a political advertisement in the campaign for governor in Virginia.  The novel, a Pulitzer Prize winner, is an “unflinchingly look into the abyss of slavery.”  A woman in the advertisement “describes how her 17-year-old [white] son was traumatized” by reading the book as it was assigned in a high school class.  The boy’s mother wants the book banned from the Fairfax, VA, schools.  Well, slavery wasn’t exactly as honorable as you might think.  It goes to show that not all books are banned because of sexual innuendo or content.  But most books are banned because of embarrassing sexual information.

Waukee, Iowa, parents are upset that books found in a school’s library are inappropriate for students of all ages [Des Moines Register, Friday, Oct. 29, 2021. Section C, Metro & Iowa].  Librarians choose books for a variety of reasons.  The Register article did not indicate where the questionable books were found.  It is very possible that the books were in the reference section.  And if you remember from high school, or even notice at public libraries, reference books are not available for check out.  Books that depict graphic images, explicit sexual content, and violent passages should be considered for viewing with assistance from an adult that can intellectually serve as a guide to the adolescent.

There are many ways to deal with printed material, movies, and music that may raise an eyebrow.  Adults are responsible for talking to their children about sex, their bodies, respect, and boundaries.  It’s not an easy task, but whoever said being a parent was a breeze?  In my day, we had to learn everything on the street.  And it wasn’t always pretty, nor was it explained in terms that were educational, respectful, and honest.  This matter is not like telling a kid there’s no such thing as Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy.  No, snickering was an essential cog of the street learning process.

Curiosity has been around since cats evolved.  Adolescents should be able to bring questions to their parents without worrying about consequences.  In the Register article mentioned above, a parent found a book in his son’s backpack “about a boy who lives with his grandparents and is searching to discover the truth about his family.”  The parent said: “I cannot write what I saw but found 33 different pages that contained sexual and or slanderous/vulgar content that if spoken in my house would be grounds for immediate discipline.”  [Emphasis added.]  I pity that young man who lives in his father’s house and not his parents’ home.

When I was a young boy, a group of us (boys and girls) sat around a HiFi set and listened to a couple of LP albums found in a stack of a girl’s mother’s records.  One was recorded by Redd Foxx.  If you grew up in the 1960s you know how dirty Foxx could be, but funny.  Another album we listened to was “Banned in Boston.”  Funny as hell.  None of us had adverse reactions to the material in those LPs.

Supreme Court Associate Justice Potter Stewart is credited with saying: “I know pornography when I see it, but I cannot define it.”  He didn’t say that.  It has been paraphrased to mean that, however.  What he did say was “I shall not today attempt further to define the kinds of material I understand to be embraced within that shorthand description [“hard-core pornography”], and perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so. But I know it when I see it, and the motion picture involved in this case is not that.”  [If you’re interested, the movie was The Lovers, a 1958 French film by director Louis Malle.]

When books, music, and films are censored, they go underground.  When anything goes underground, it’s impossible to control.  That’s where the devil lives, isn’t it?

I read Catcher in the Rye when I was young.  I didn’t think it was that great of a book.  I read it again later in life to see what I missed because it had been banned so many times.  I still didn’t get it.  Not only that, but once again, I didn’t think it was that great a piece of literature.  I’m surprised no adult stopped me from reading Wild in the Streets around the same time.  I loved that book, and it had more anti-authoritarian passages than Catcher in the Rye.

Decades ago, if a book, play, movie, or music was banned in Boston it was an indication that the material was on its way to being a best seller.

I’m sending my first book to Boston in hope that the Watch and Ward Society will recommend that it be banned.

 

Related blog:  Censorship Sucks!

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For What It’s Worth

Posted on November 13, 2023 by Marty Ryan

The topic of professional baseball salaries came up in discussion in a bar one sunny afternoon in 1980. One person at the table was rigid in his opinion that no professional athlete is worth a million dollars. In November of 1979, Nolan Ryan (no relation to the author) signed a four-year contract with the Houston Astros for $4.5 million dollars. Ryan became the first Major League Baseball player to achieve a salary of one-million-dollars or more per year. “$4,000,000 in 1979 is equivalent in purchasing power to about $16,958,071.63 today.” And yet, today’s free agents in the baseball market are turning down qualifying offers of $20.325 million. Many of them could sign lucrative contracts with a few million more. And none of them can hold a candle to Nolan Ryan, who threw seven no-hitters, three more than any other individual pitcher in baseball history.

My argument then is the same one I use today. If someone can get paid a million-dollars, they are worth it. That afternoon at the bar I was sitting with three people. The person I was debating owned a business. I was a working stiff in a packing plant. Naturally, as a business owner, he would be outraged that an employee would suggest they were not being paid what they were worth. As a union member, I was content with what I was being paid. The union wages were negotiated in good faith between management and Labor representatives to assure that each and every employee was worth a particular amount within a range. Fair is fair.

I understood the business owner’s position, but I disagreed. In many businesses where management consists of the boss and several employees, it is not unusual for the boss to make the most money. That concept applies to professional sports, as well. Baseball team owners seldom cry poverty. Oh, wait, unless they want a new stadium. But the economic model of supply and demand is just as evident in baseball, football, basketball, and a few other professional sports teams as it is in any American business. Women’s sports is finally catching up, but women’s sports in general lag far behind. Are the women athletes worth more? My opinion would be that they are; if the team ownership has the excessive profit margin prevalent in men’s sports

More than once I have heard a non-union member say that they were worth more than a coworker, and that was their reasoning behind not joining a union. However, the belief behind that unsettling statement is that if the employer desires to pay people what they think they are worth, without a union contract, that person claiming they are worth so much more is going to find out that they are worth less than their ego imagines. In that scenario, every employee’s wage will decrease, including the person who believes they are worth more than any co-employee.

When I was discharged from the Army, I collected unemployment for a while until I decided to go back to the job I had worked when I was drafted, working at Marvin’s Provisions. There were a few people there who weren’t working there when I left. Terry L. was one of those employees. It wasn’t long after I restarted my job at Marvin’s when Terry asked me how much I was making. I learned a long time ago that it’s not a good idea to ask that question when there is no formal policy or contract in place. But I answered his question with a question. “How much are you making?” We exchanged information on our hourly wages, and I found out he was making several dimes an hour more than me. Although I had a few years of experience, and that experience was with Marvin’s, he had been hired not more than a few months before I was rehired and had no experience whatsoever.

One day, we gathered to unload the beef truck. As usual, it had front quarters and hind quarters weighing between 120 pounds to 180 pounds each. Occasionally, there might be a bull carcass on the back end of the truck. As you can imagine, a bull carcass weighs considerably more than a heifer or steer. Sometimes two men would unload it together. I thought the practice was clumsy and dangerous. There was a bull carcass on this particular day, and I told everyone to stand aside as I moved in on the front quarter and lifted it myself. I moved it from the back of the truck to the waiting meat hook roller that Floyd was holding. It required lifting, turning, and walked two to three steps. I laid the quarter on the roller and Floyd rolled it down to the scale. “326 pounds!” Marvin yelled back. “A new record for one person.”

“Roll it back here!” I requested. I didn’t think they would, but the huge front quarter was rolled back to the rear of the truck, and I asked Floyd to hold the hook. He smiled. He knew what I was doing. I picked the quarter up, turned around and dropped it back onto the meat hook in the truck.

“There!” I said loudly so that everyone in the place could hear me. “Let Terry take it off the truck. I quit!”

I took off my apron, white coat, silly hat and punched out.

I was walking home when a car pulled up next to me. It was Marvin. He was trying to convince me to come back to work.

“Can I make more than Terry?”

“No.”

“Just as much as Terry?”

“No, Terry needs the money more because he’s married.”

Marvin received my favorite answer to stupid statements: “Go fuck yourself!” I went home to lunch.

I thought I had proved that I was worth more than Terry. Probably not. He kept his job.

 

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Picking Sides

Posted on November 6, 2023 by Stephanie Fawkes-Lee

My soon-to-be ex-husband was helping me paint the outside of our house in preparation for putting it on the market.  I noticed that the neighbors across the street were chatting with him and pointedly ignoring me.

When they left, I said, “Guess you got the neighbors in the divorce.”

“Did you want them?” He asked.

The strange part was they rarely talked to him before that day, while I had spent considerable time listening to them.  They really didn’t know either one of us, but based on little information felt this need to choose a side. Since we were both moving away, the consequences were negligible.  If I had remained, other neighbors could have joined them, attempting to make my life after marriage miserable with malicious gossip and ostracizing me and my children.

Our neighbors across the street weren’t the only people to take sides during our divorce, which was odd.  When did the ending of a marriage between two people turn into a team sport?  It brought back those traumatizing memories from childhood when team captains would pick their players one-by-one until that one poor little kid stood alone, rejected not by one team, but by two. At least this picking of people has a purpose, to get the best players on your team in order to win. There can also be a popularity factor, wanting your friends to play on your team.

Popularity is key as we enter high school. When I started at a new high school, the leader of the “popular people” clique thought she was doing me a favor by advising me not to talk to other girls that this group apparently found unworthy. So now conditions were being put on picking.  I would only be accepted into the group if other people controlled who I was allowed to talk to. I wasn’t willing to make this sacrifice.

The political power play of picking gets more complex as we grow older.  Now is the time to get picky about picking. Your future happiness may be determined by which village you attempt to join: a religious organization, a political party, business organizations, volunteer organizations, self-help groups, country clubs, etc. Be warned, adults put self-interest first and foremost and just because you pick them doesn’t mean they will return the favor. You may end up like that poor little kid that never got picked by either team. So, tread carefully down this prickly path.

The art of picking isn’t for the meek of heart. Similar to warfare, there are all sorts of unwritten rules that must be followed, or you will be properly punished. Rule number one: Don’t think for yourself.  The group leaders will do this for you and all you have to do is follow whatever is dictated.  Rule number two: Check all personal values and integrity at the door.  The group will tell you what your values will now be, and integrity just gets in the way of achieving key targets.  Rule number three:  When a member of the group attempts to question or speak out against a decision of leadership, it is your responsibility to blindly unify with other members and eliminate this perceived threat.  Since there are a number of other rules that aren’t made public, the best course of action is to sit quietly during all meetings and events.  Even what may seem to be harmless “small talk,” may be viewed as dangerous or offensive speech. Leaders will state that they want to hear from people and are open to innovative ideas, but don’t fall into this trap.  Just smile and nod. Diversity and innovation are the mortal enemies of conformity.

My beloved godmother, who respected and lived by the village rules once told me, “That my life would be easier if I didn’t speak out.”  You see, my life has been littered with groups that have ganged-up and eliminated me for not following the rules. But someone needs to be speak-out against injustice, and if getting ousted is the consequence for retaining self-respect and integrity, so be it.  I’m quite content to limit my picking these days to the apples, peaches and pears that grow on the trees in our yard.

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By Any Other Name

Posted on October 20, 2023 by Marty Ryan

Why do humans name cats? They never come when you call. If you have a routine that lets them know it’s time to eat, they will come running. But most of all, the cat will be there staring at you with a look on its face that implies ‘where in hell have you been? I’ve been hungry for a whole five minutes now.’

No matter which species of cat you have, the animal will not acknowledge you unless it gives permission. Yet, we call them by a name we have given them, and they ignore it.

Cats are nocturnal, primarily. They will sleep at night, but don’t be fooled. Have you never woken past midnight to see a cat staring out the window in the middle of the night, yearning to be out there among its friends?

Cats are fussy eaters. It is difficult to try different brands of food on them. They’ll turn their nose up on it and refuse to eat until you replace that generic stuff with some of the most expensive food on the shelf. And yet, they’ll eat almost anything they can find in the wild during their romp around town in the wee hours of the morning.

They will never let you know where they are. A cat can be gone for days, and you’ll worry about its welfare until it comes home. Don’t try to scold it; it doesn’t pay attention to what you say.

Sleeping the day away is one of its favorite pastimes. In the sun, on the couch, in a bedroom on top of an unmade bed, cats will sleep like what seems forever. Then, when you make a noise, it will stretch, arch its back, and move on to some other place where you can’t bother it.

But cats are lovable. That’s why we have them. They are capable of giving us love and companionship. Unlike dogs, who come running from anywhere in the house to greet you when you arrive home, cats will slowly emerge from a far-off room to see if you brought them something while you were away. And if you did, don’t wait around for a ton of thanks. It’s as if it was a gift they deserve, and you finally came through.

But with all their faults, we still love our cats – immensely!

Now, go back and read the essay one more time, and instead of the word “cat,” replace it with “teenager.”

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