All you negative Nancys, pessimistic Pattys, and doom-filled Doras, stop your pouting. Even on this dark day when the Dow plunged lower than gravity on an 85-year-old man's gonads, there is hope. (Sorry, the stress of this week has gone straight to my figuritve speech.)
How can I say there's hope? Well what else could a new bank OPENING signify other than prosperity. I've switched all my assets over to Personal Bank and I'm advising you to do the same:
Another day, another world-wide financial panic. When I took this job, they told me the Federal Reserve was part of government, I wouldn't have to work weekends. Personally, I'd like a day off to go jogging, watch a football game, take a nap -- but no, you people won't leave me alone.
First, it was the knuckleheads calling up to see if their bank deposits were safe. Yes, I'd say, and add "you freaking nimrod" under my breath. What does the little FDIC decal say on the bank door?
Then last week, it was the people who stashed their dough in money-market mutual funds. "Didn't you read the fine print?" I'd say. "Deposits are not guaranteed. You wanted to earn a little more money, you were supposed to take some risk." But we can't have that, can we? No, everybody's so spoiled these days. So I caved and said I'd guaranty money market deposits too.
Then yesterday, I get a call from the Town Line Liquor Store in Natick, Massachusetts. Some guy is returning his beer bottles to get a lousy nickel for each one, when the machine spits out a Smutty Nose Blueberry IPA bottle and says "Non-participating container" on the little glow screen. What am I gonna do about it, the guys asks.
Next to the huge economic crisis, the most unfortunate thing about the past two weeks has been having to spend so much time with Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson. I never could stand investment bankers. They're always trying to sell you something. Since the people are calling for more transparency in our decision making, here's a transcript of our conference call:
Hank Paulson: Ben, this free market shit isn't working for us anymore. The bankers aren't making any money and are being held accountable for their losses.
Me: That's how free markets work. Remember when Lloyd [Blankfein, CEO of Goldman Sacks] got that bonus check of almost $70 million just last year? Should he take the losses too?
Hank: Lloyd, that little shit. Good thing I had to sell my $500 million of Goldman stock before I took office. Betty [that's Hank's secretary, she just won Secretary of the Month], get Lloyd on the phone.
I've picked up a few, er, essential items over the past few weeks. Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac--now something called AIG. I have no idea what these words stand for, but all my friends said "You simply must buy them!" So I did.
And now I'm sort of running low on cash. So don't ask me if I'm interested in your Upper Deck Ken Griffey, Jr. rookie card. Or your 8-track tape collection--including The Commodores Greatest Hits. Or your Beanie Babies.
Since when did I become like, everybody's BFF? I sit here in Washington, looking out the window, waiting for my next honorary degree from some cow college in a state that begins with an "M", trying to make the big decisions--and the phone just won't stop ringing!
The media always wants to second guess everything I do. Fine, go ahead. But with the subprime and housing catastrophes, the international credit crisis, skyrocketing oil prices, and runaway inflation, The Federal Reserve needed to raise a little capital, alright? Just like all those banks, we were taking it on the chin over here. And without a Fed to bail us out like we did for Bear Stearns, corporate sponsorship was our only option.
So, we’re going to call it: “The Federal Jack Daniels Reserve.”
I picked up the Wall Street Journal the other day and discovered that I'm down to eight friends on the Federal Open Market Committee. I know it's summer, but I get bored when there's nobody around to play with me and my money.
So what am I supposed to do? Leave target rates unchanged? Increase the money supply?
When I was a kid, I'd go to Camp Ramah in the summer. I'd talk to the other kids about monetary policy while we made gimp lanyards. Then at night we'd gather around the campfire and sing songs about economics. "Inflation is Always and Everywhere a Monetary Phenomenon" was my favorite, but I also liked "My Old Man's a Keynesian--Whadda Ya Think About That!"
You know the line about the Federal Reserve, right? No, not the one about how it's our job to take away the punch bowl just when the party's getting started. That one was made into a platinum-selling song by somebody named Pink.
No, I'm referring to the one about how the Federal Reserve correctly predicts five out of every three recessions. I say, what's wrong with that? If we were playing baseball, that would give us an average of 1.667%, which is usually good enough to win the batting crown.
They say we're too quick to yell "Recession!", but what are we supposed to yell? You can't yell "Fire!" in a crowded theater, so you've got to yell something else.
Some people say I'm empire-building just because I gave a big speech on healthcare the other day. Well, healthcare costs money, I'm the guy who makes the money, so it's my business, okay?
The way I see it, the cost of healthcare keeps going up and the only way we can pay for it is with money. In the past you could take a bushel of yams to your country doctor to pay for your kid's vaccination. You can't anymore because when the girl at the front desk runs it through the credit card machine it gums it all up and comes out as orange goo. Doctors want money, not your stupid vegetables.
So here's my proposal. As a Federal Reserve employee I get a good free health plan, and you don't. Why? Because I have to go before Congress, which also has a good free health plan, and answer tough questions, and you don't. And I answer those tough questions in the oracular style that Federal Reserve Chairmen have to use, which isn't easy to learn, let me tell you.
I want to clarify something that got misquoted in today's Boston Globe.
I was down on Cape Cod to give a speech to a bunch of bankers who were so busy chowing down on shrimp and lobster I figured they weren't paying attention. It was my chance to take a break from my daily routine of being the master of the world's money.
What I said in an unguarded, offhand moment after I'd had a gin and tonic or two was that I didn't think the economy was so bad. I wake up this morning and the story in the Globe says I don't think the economy is so bad. No wonder everybody hates the media!
Now I've got people screaming at me saying if losing your job, your house, your car and being unable to afford college isn't a bad economy, what is?
Well, let me give you a few examples of why the economy isn't so bad:
The economy did not poke you in the eye with a sharp stick today.
The economy did not kill your goldfish.
In my travels around the country, I've noticed that a lot of banks are sponsoring summer concert series, charging high prices so people can watch old washed-up groups like the Eagles, or new washed-up groups like Hootie and the Blowfish. What this has to do with banking is beyond me.
It never ceases to amaze me. I'll be sitting there on my blanket, sipping a Bud Light Lime, when the MC comes out and says "Welcome to the First Megablob Bank SummerFest! Give it up for Bare Naked Ladies!" Then five pasty-faced white guys who look like they live with their mothers and subsist on beer and pizza come out. The crowd may be high as a kite, but my guess is they know they're not looking at bare naked ladies.
I'm thinking that these summer concerts are an excellent opportunity to teach young people financial literacy. Rule number one: Just because you have checks in your checkbook doesn't mean you have money in the bank! Duh! It's really very simple. You can't take money out of a bank unless you put money into a bank, preferably the same bank you take the money out of. Anything else is bank robbery.
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