Your 401 K is a Beanie Baby!

Open a drawer.

Empty, I mean completely empty, a basket of laundry. Search the bottom of a toy chest. Check the floor of your teenage daughter's closet. Look under the second bench seat in your minivan. What are you likely to find? A Beanie Baby. These maddeningly ubiquitous, fatuously cheerful, brightly colored, annoying pieces of crap still lurk beneath the surface of our everyday lives. Of course, Pinchers the Lobster, Patti the Platypus, and the Princess Diana bear are now dirty, moth-eaten, and missing button eyes and paper eartags. We kick them aside; we reject them; we toss them in the bag for Goodwill. Slightly ashamed of the value we once attributed to them, we slide them out of sight.

We should enshrine them. Build an altar to our folly. Display them on our mantels. Allow them to prick our conscience daily.

Why? Because they are symbolic of all that is wrong with U.S. economy.

Launched in 1993, the Beanies set off an craze of unparalleled proportions. Embracing the illusion that the Beanies were "collectibles," adults bought, traded, and amassed ridiculous numbers of these little plush toys. The "rare" ones were deemed to have lasting value. Entire stores were built around this "collectible" market. Ensconced in acrylic boxes, these toys were considered (no joke) "an investment."

Ummm ... did anyone notice that they were polyester bags filled with plastic pellets produced for only pennies each in China?

Not exactly the stuff to retire on.

News flash - your 401 K is a Beanie Baby.

You thought your retirement account had endless value. Capable of increasing arithmetically, your account would yield a 50% return on your original principal. Money makes money and more money! Words like "hedgefunds," "mutual funds," and "small cap appreciation" crept into your water-cooler conversations. Everyone wanted in on a hot IPO. Today's middle-manager would be tomorrow's millionaire. Throw in more money, leverage your account to buy a huge house, invest in rental real estate, buy tech stock, day trade, hell ... go nuts! What can go wrong? The value can only go up, right?

Wrong.

Your green Paddy Bear with the happy Shamrock stitched on his chest has a rip in his side. Most of his plastic pellets now reside in your vacuum cleaner. You couldn't sell, auction him, or trade him if you had to. He ain't worth a dime.

Unearth him from under the bookcase. Build a shelf for him in a prominent place. Let Paddy Bear remind you everyday that there's no such thing as easy money, that wealth is something built slowly through hard work and cautious investment, and that polyester and plastic can never add up to gold.

Janet Napolitano is Cramping My Style

The similarities are alarming. We both possess two X chromosomes. We both have a touch of gray in the hair. We both share the same last name. When I Google my name, hers pops up. How can the average person possibly distinguish between us?

To clear up any confusion, I offer the following distinctions and clarifications:

1. Janet and I enjoy equally brilliant legal minds. Janet uses hers to govern the state Arizona and she has formerly depended on her gifts to groom testimony destined for the U.S. Senate and to draft briefs for a prestigious law firm. I, of course, hone my legal skills to interpret the subtleties in my homeowner's association covenants. These skills are particularly useful when waging complaints against neighbors who neglect to remove seasonal decorations in a timely fashion.

2. Janet attracted the attention of President-elect Obama by endorsing him early and providing him with unwavering support in the final months of his campaign. I have attracted the attention of President-elect Obama by strategically placing an Obama-Biden campaign sticker on the rear of my car. (Well ... truthfully, I never actually put it on my car. I kinda hate bumper stickers, but it does occupy a prominent place in my kitchen window, which means if Barack Obama were in my house, he could read it easily ... if he went into the kitchen, I mean.)

3. President-elect Obama selected Janet to be the new director of Homeland Security, and I was once asked to serve on a neighborhood watch committee. These are very similar positions that involve vigilance and thoughtful recommendations about many issues, including perceived public threats such as garish exterior decorations displayed long after the holiday has ended.

4. I live in the Washington, D.C. area, and Janet will soon join me as a local resident. Frankly, I'm a little nervous about this. I value my anonymity, and there could be confusion. I imagine situations where local merchants, restaurant owners, auto mechanics, etc. offer me free services to curry favor with the new administration. Federal laws prevent Janet from accepting these kinds of benefits, but would these regulations apply to me? Hmmm ... Maybe I should consult an attorney.

5. I'm taller. 5 feet and 7 inches to be exact.

So, if you find yourself in the Washington area, and you see a wise-looking, well-spoken woman standing close to President Obama, look closely. If she's shorter than 5' 7", it's probably the other Ms. Napolitano.

Rhymes With ...

Quick! Think of two happy words that rhyme with room.
Can't? Neither can I.


Dark, dusty, deserted living room,
Guest-less, you are no more than a tomb.
Absent parties, music, and laughter,
You stand empty like the day after.


To dispel your wintery gloom
With fresh paint and decorations, I will groom
Your tan walls and simple window moulding
With colors exotic and bolding!


Lush fabrics! Bright artwork! Banish the doom!
Treasured objects and heirlooms I will exhume
From basement boxes - statues soon proudly displayed!
Mantles and table tops gorgeously arrayed!


Oh, wait, I forgot, this blush won't bloom
My plans are always grander than the room.
Motivation slipping, vision fading ... I probably blew it.
I just cannot be Martha Stewart.