The Zeitgeist with Howard Barbanel

 New York Governor Andrew Cuomo, Enchanter Par-Excellance.

This was an editorial I wrote that appeared in the December 9, 2011 issue of The South Shore Standard:

Sleight of Hand

The late Harry Houdini was considered the greatest magician of the 20^th Century. Among other practitioners of the black arts who achieved widespread fame are David Copperfield, Doug Henning and Las Vegas staples, Penn and Teller. The chief talents of a great magician are illusion, manipulation, theatricality and bold escapes from seemingly impossible situations. Some magicians don’t know when to stop overreaching and end up pushing the envelope a bit too far as was the unfortunate case with Mr. Houdini.

In New York we have a Governor who believes himself to be possessed of magical powers, and to a certain degree, he probably does. Andrew Cuomo manages to successfully cast spells over ultra-liberal Democrats like Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver while at the same time completely hypnotizing Republicans like our State Senator and Senate Majority Leader Dean Skelos.

Mr. Cuomo’s latest act of enchantment has been the closed-door, backroom deal to put $2 billion of new taxes on New York’s wealthy while simultaneously throwing a few hundred bucks at New Yorkers earning under $200K.

On December 31^st, the 2009 “Millionaires Tax,” a surcharge imposed on top of already high state income taxes, was due to expire. This surcharge primarily effected those earning over $200,000 a year, shooting state tax rates as high as 8.97 percent for the very rich and even at 7.85 percent for the moderately well-off (those over $300K). While campaigning for office, Mr. Cuomo pledged no new taxes (as did Mr. Skelos and the Senate Republicans) so instead of renewing the “Millionaires Tax,” Mr. Cuomo hit on a plan to completely revamp state income tax rates entirely, technically allowing the 2009 surcharge to expire on December 31^st while “presto!,” creating a whole new set of tax rates for January 1^st. These rates are in fact lower than the pre-2009 rates for most wage earners. Tax rates would have uniformly been 6.85 percent for everyone without the new tax deal. Now, some New Yorkers (those earning under $150K) will see their rates drop to 6.45 percent, with the rates rising to 6.85 percent for those couples earning up to $2 million and individuals up to $1 million threshold.

The bad news for couples making more than $2 mil (and individuals earning north of $1 million) is that their tax rate will now be 8.82 percent – magically marginally lower than the 8.97 percent they’re paying now but significantly higher than the 6.85 percent rate had December 31^st come and gone and no new tax code been put forth and no renewal of the “Millionaires Tax” gone into effect. The Alchemy of this arrangement is that a tax rate hike of 22.34 percent is being passed off as some kind of a tax cut on the expiring “Millionaires Tax” rate, which was meant to be temporary (for just two years) and – “shazaam!,” making the much higher rate permanent.

While cutting anyone’s taxes is a good thing and we do applaud the partial reduction of the much-hated MTA Payroll Tax (whose revenues will be replaced to the MTA out of the state’s general fund in another act of fiscal wizardry), what’s really happening here is that Mr. Cuomo is actually permanently and institutionally raising taxes by $2 billion and doing so by singling out what in effect is a minority group – the 30,000 New Yorkers who as couples earn more than $2 million or as singles earn more than $1 million a year. This dovetails nicely with the Democratic Party’s (and the President’s) agenda of fomenting class warfare, vilifying the well-to-do, scapegoating them and marking them for special treatment.

What is Mr. Cuomo going to do with this extra $2 billion? Why, spend it, of course, on a whole host of feel-good pork barrel programs like $50 million to help inner city youths to get jobs, $1 billion in infrastructure projects, millions and millions for health care (which makes the powerful health care workers unions happy) and education (which makes the powerful teachers unions happy) instead of cutting spending. So, instead of using the $2 billion in new taxes to plug the enormous deficits, Mr. Cuomo is spending it and spreading it around to buy votes from Democratic and Republican legislators.

In the last legislative session, the Senate Republicans were so spellbound that they practically fell all over themselves to prove how reasonable and bi-partisan they can be – allowing Mr. Cuomo to conjure no end of legislation virtually unopposed, giving Cuomo the Younger virtually everything he wanted. Now, the state Republicans are doing more horse trading and “go-along, get-along” politics instead of standing up (like the Republicans in Congress) for core conservative and responsible fiscal policies. Unless Republicans in New York substantively and forcefully differentiate themselves from business as usual, they’ll not have a realistic chance at attaining majority status and control of the state government. They need to offer a clear alternative to tax and spend liberalism. New York Republicans ought to be fighting for a five percent flat tax for everyone, regardless of income level, as a first step towards real tax reform.

On October 17^th of this year Mr. Cuomo said “You are kidding yourself if you think you can be one of the highest-taxed states in the nation, have a reputation for being anti-business – and have a rosy economic future.” Giving most taxpayers a few hundred bucks back a year (a $300 reduction is only $5.77 a week more in someone’s paycheck) is no panacea to make New York a more attractive place economically. Likewise, institutionalizing a tax rate of nearly nine percent for the wealthy on top of capital gains taxes, inheritance taxes, real estate taxes, corporate taxes, sales taxes and more will only drive more and more movers and shakers – the people who create businesses and jobs – away to Sunbelt states like Florida, Texas and Arizona. The premise of raising $2 billion from the very wealthy is fundamentally flawed as these people flee both the oppressive New York tax regime and/or find clever ways around it, so that Mr. Cuomo’s supposed additional $2 billion in taxes may be a sleight of hand as a lot of this money may never materialize and we’ll only be left with the $2 billion in pork barrel spending and an ever deeper budgetary black hole.

The Zeitgeist with Howard Barbanel

   

Live in Paradise!

Like countless millions of other Americans, I was airborne over Thanksgiving weekend, traveling what a few decades ago would have been considered vast distances to visit family and friends. In my case, I was one of many staring at those TV screens aboard Jet Blue winging myself down Florida way.

When heading toward baggage claim at Palm Beach International Airport, one is met square in the face with a giant billboard and mannequin display urging new arrivals to “Live in a Postcard,” that postcard incarnate being Palm Beach County – replete with ubiquitous palm trees and abundant sunshine. They actually want you to join them in paradise and not just for a visit.

Notwithstanding some of the unseasonably warm November weather up here (and thank heaven for that – last October and November seemed like we were living in Minsk or Pinsk) when I gaze at our bare naked trees, reach for that thick sweater or dig into my wallet to pay our extravagant cost of everything, that welcoming billboard in Florida starts to look pretty good.

And they have more than hype to back it up. First comes the extra hour or more of sunshine on any given day. At 5:30 on Monday it still was light out, (twilight, I’ll grant you, but light nonetheless) leaves were still green on the trees and flowers in bloom. And it was 75 degrees. They have highways without giant potholes or unintentional speed bumps and they have roads with as many as six lanes in each direction with speed limits of 65 or 70 mph. They’ve got no state or city income taxes, a strong homestead exemption if you’re faced with trying times, lower real estate taxes, little to no inheritance taxes and lower sales taxes. No “millionaire’s tax.” No toll bridges or tunnels and generally available free parking.

Housing – yes, you can still spend more than a million on a home there if you want to, but you can also find pretty decent digs for well under $300K. There’s a new development in West Boynton Beach called “Canyon Trails,” with brand new houses starting at $260,000. Condos can routinely be purchased in nice areas for under $150,000.

Food – We have everything here in The Five Towns that you might possibly want to eat – but we pay for it. Go into any Publix supermarket in Florida and you’ll be floored to find that where we take it for granted that a box of cereal will be $5.49, that same box in Florida is $3.89. A case of bottled water here for $6 is $3.99 there. Beer and soda? About 20 percent less. Even the astonishingly good and highly desirable clandestinely imported Mexican Coke (as in Coca-Cola) made in thick glass bottles with real cane sugar and no high fructose corn syrup is a mere $1.29 a bottle there and $2 here. Want to bring home some flowers to spruce up your home? We’ve had an explosion of floral inflation here, with small supermarket bouquets now ranging from $9.99 to $14.99, while the very same sized and just as pretty bouquets in the Sunshine State are $4.99 to $7.99. Ditto on fruits and veggies.

Gasoline? Also less by about 20 to 25 cents a gallon. Heating oil? No such thing. Winter clothes? Also no such thing, unless you like to go skiing on your vacation. Politics? If you’re a Republican drowning in the deep blue Democratic liberalism of New York, Florida is heaven on earth as it seems everyone is a Republican except for old Jewish New York transplants. Oh, and people are more polite. They smile, say “please” and “thank you” and “y’all have a nice day now!”

While on the beach on Sunday, for the first time I saw large numbers of gray and black New York-style pigeons scampering on the sand, vying with the seagulls for bugs and leftovers – these most assuredly were Northern birds who’ve decamped for warmer climes as they looked wholly out of place in the brilliant sunshine and next to the azure waters. I’m sure the gulls were none too happy about it.

Now, having said all this there are some things that are better here – restaurants – our eat-out and take-out food is far superior across the board. Likewise our bagels and pizza. New York wins by a slam-dunk on culture and the breadth and scope of our intelligentsia and frisson of discourse. Our newspapers are better. TV news is better. Our schools are generally better. Nightlife is more sophisticated. People are dressed better and more stylishly. We have real neighborhoods with interesting, solid houses, not just tract developments and gated communities. We have multi-generational family life with deep roots where people know where you come from and often have your back. The richness and diversity of ethnic and religious life is far superior. There is a bland and bleached, homogenized nature to life there which can be mind-numbing.

For a million New Yorkers who fled to the Sunbelt over the past decade, they’re happy to put up with life less sophisticated in exchange for life less complicated, life less onerous, life less expensive and life with more sunlight. As I look out at the pitch darkness of 5:00 p.m. in New York, maybe, as Bertie Higgins sung back in ’82, it would be cool to “live on love and the fruit from tropical trees,”  “ease on down to the Keys” and spend “Just Another Day in Paradise.”

The Zeitgeist with Howard Barbanel

      

How the first Thanksgiving was imagined -- the natives being friendly. Moms bringing out the turkey and football being a major tradition of the holiday.

The Ghosts of Thanksgivings Past

As time marches on, Thanksgiving and other major holidays trigger a stream of memories stretching back over the decades. Invariably the years have a way of painting everything in a kind of Norman Rockwell-esque sepia tone as nostalgia for days and people gone by come flooding back from the deep recesses of one’s memory banks and hard drive.

As a kid, we used to have big Thanksgivings on my mother’s side of our extended family. Most of the people who previously populated these gatherings are, alas, no longer walking this earth. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, some cousins. The holiday used to be an extravaganza of first cousins at the kids’ table running amok and getting into all kinds of mischief. It is hard to fathom that it’s been 27 years since my Great Uncle Si passed away (he used to be our family’s “official” turkey carver) and all the Thanksgivings past that took place at my Great Aunt Gerri’s place on the Grand Concourse in The Bronx, then migrating to my late Aunt Mona’s and then my late Aunt Stephanie’s places on the Upper East Side. The food was almost beside the point. It was more about the atavistic tribal re-bonding of an extended family of striving Romanian-American Jews and the frisson of turbo-charged intellectual and political discourse where even precocious kids could sometimes participate. Debates would rage for what seemed like hours on the relative greatness (or lack thereof) of the late New York Mayor John Lindsay and other saints in the liberal pantheon. These relatives always seemed “so old” to me in those days, yet, I’m probably now about the same age as so many of those mythic figures from my bygone youth and I can well imagine my younger relatives invariably view me from a similar prism now.

Back in my “salad days,” (my late teens and 20s) before I became a full-fledged adult with spousal responsibilities, serious job responsibilities and mortgage responsibilities, the arrival of Thanksgiving weekend signaled a slew of parties which were often beer-infused reunions with friends from high school, the neighborhood, childhood and college with no end of mental transporting to the “glory days” of adolescence. In hindsight, I really don’t know how I was able to capably drive home from places like AJ’s in Atlantic Beach to my parents in Woodsburgh. We drove cars without airbags, shoulder seatbelts, radial tires, anti-lock brakes and often even without rear window defrosters. I can only think that the good Lord was my co-pilot on some of those late evenings.

The amazing thing about Thanksgiving with one’s extended family (especially people you might not see regularly now) is how despite the time and distance, everyone slips effortlessly back into their pre-assigned and pre-determined roles from long ago and grown-up siblings and cousins jostle and tease one another as though it were 25 or more years ago. It doesn’t matter if during the intervening years you’ve become some kind of a big shot or a parent to many, you’re still someone’s little brother or sister or kid cousin and it’s this kind of re-grounding and re-grouping that compels so many of us to trek even great distances, like salmon swimming upstream, to feed again at the wellsprings of our roots.

Today, heavily imbibing in alcoholic beverages on Thanksgiving (which is not to say, abstaining from them entirely) is out of the question for a myriad of reasons including the potential for lethal bodily harm from driving under the influence, DWI arrests and that hangovers, while viewed nostalgically from a long, safe distance, are something our middle-aged bodies really can’t handle and that our personal trainers will give us no end of grief about. Heavy eating is also generally left to the much younger participants who have that fast metabolism and perceived immortality of youth and are able to take that third helping of stuffing or additional ladleful of sweet potatoes with marshmallows without having to pay any price the next day around their waistlines or G.I. systems.

The earth turns and the years pass. Our hair goes thinner or grayer, the leaves are shorn from their trees for the last time yet again, fireplaces are lit, the afternoon sound of football games (just on TV for most Jews, in reality, actually playing on their lawns for many other ethnic groups) redounds and ricochets throughout the house, mixed in with the clatter from the kitchens to form a cacophony of American life that is comforting, embracing and welcoming, telling us all for a day at least, as Dorothy said, “there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home” and even if some of your relatives are munchkins, wizards or witches, there’s no place you’d rather be on Thanksgiving.