Maximum Wage

Raising the minimum wage has again become an issue at local to federal levels. Given the increase in labor costs this will engender means that management will always be opposed to such a measure, as will those who feel management will seek to offset those costs by cutting the workforce (a threat from management, in fact). Labor is the biggest cost for many, if not most, companies, and they find that maximizing profits can best be done by short changing employees.
            That sucks.
            Increased labor costs are necessary if people are to make a decent living from their labor. One way to offset these costs is to impose a maximum wage. Putting a cap on the earnings of executives and other highly compensated employees (including movie stars, rock stars, and athletes) will go a long way toward keeping labor costs within bounds that do not impede reasonable profitability. Why are the costs of the producers always blamed for draining profits, and not the blood-sucking corporate execs? In fact, capping the salaries of the overpaid could actually accrue benefits to consumers in reduced prices.
            Capped at what amount? Say $500,000 per year? Maybe more, we can quibble about that. If you can’t live a comfortable life on $500,000 per year, you probably need to get some sort of therapy.
            Many will say such a ‘draconian’ move would violate their god-given right to be multi-millionaires. There is no such right. Many will say it is ‘un-American’─ maybe so, but in a good way. People should have the opportunity to move up and accumulate wealth, but how much does anyone really need? Are car collections, houses on every continent, 6 bedroom houses for 2 people, 57 pairs of shoes, opulence in every choice be it food or furniture; and a wide range of other extravagances one can imagine and can observe indulged in by the uber-rich, really justified? On what grounds? Are we really expected to believe that their work is so much more valuable than the hired help?
            Few of us do, and most of us know exactly what worth they bring, and sometimes it’s a lot, and often times it’s not. But it’s never worth the price paid by workers.

Blues for Monk

“Monk was my man.”

            It was late. We were in the tiny little studio apartment I’d rented as a camp-out spot, till a decent situation presented itself.

            “How does it come to pass that artists of that stature spend their lives scuffling like rats in the alleys?”

            “That is sin, my friend; that is the definition of sin.”

            “Who are the sinners?”

            “Always comes back to the people with the money.”

            “But having money’s not a sin.”

            “What you do with it might be.”

            “Have enough of it and you can do whatever you want and still come out smelling good.”

            “Are we just jealous?”

            “Shouldn’t we be? Haven’t we worked hard?”

            “You’ve got a point there.”

            “No one should be allowed to have too much money.”

            “How much is too much?”

            “Too much is more than you need.”

            “Good luck with that one.”

            “There should be a cut-off point. This much - and no more. Why should anyone be allowed to accumulate so much? Can you think of a single person who does something that’s that valuable?”

            “How valuable is that?”

            “You know what I’m talking about.”

            We sat in silence for a while pondering the injustice of life - a recurrent theme with a shifting pedal point.

            “Let’s listen to ‘Round Midnight’ one more time.”

            “I could do that.”

            Then we sat back and witnessed pure beauty.

            It almost made things better.