Pavlov's Hot Dog

Time Magazine is dubbing this the "Decade From Hell," and far be it from me to argue with their assessment.

As an observer of pop cultural change, I like that we get the collective urge to reflect on the main changes of our eras or decades, then name them for easier future reference.

There's the Vietnam Era, for example.

The Gilded Age. The Jazz Age. The Disco Era.

Or the Age of Aquarius. What ever happened to that anyway? I'm still waiting for "harmony and understanding, sympathy and peace abounding..."

The part of me that is an incurable optimist likes to think that the woes of the past ten years will not constitute an entire "age" or era, but can for the most part be confined to the past decade. (The realist in me, however, has some specific ideas on what will have to change in order to accomplish that, and I'll share those in a later post.)

There's been such a problem naming the past decade, my local paper, The Saint Paul Pioneer Press, asked readers for suggestions. This of course got me brainstorming names on my own. I can't resist thinking about names for things. Sometimes I even make a living doing it.

So I'm recapping my brainstorming here. The first rule of brainstorming is that you're invited to piggyback on my ideas and improve them. Just reply below.

The other is that you reserve judgement until later. Much later. I think my ideas get better toward the end.

If we're going to define just the decade, the alliterative name that first popped into my head was the "Default Decade." But the word "default" sounds so impersonal. And if there's one thing we know about this past decade, it's that it affected people very, very personally.

The other term that popped into my head was the "Meltdown Decade."

Lots of things melted down rather suddenly over the decade, starting quite literally with the steel i-beams supporting the towers of the World Trade Center.

There were meltdowns in the financial sector, the stock market, the job market, and the housing market.

People began melting down their gold jewelry to raise cash to survive. 

A few of the world's major glaciers experienced accelerated meltdown this past decade.

Extreme partisan politics brought about the meltdown of our national unity, until a meltdown of the financial sector and our economy momentarily united us again in our desire for "change." 

We then elected our first black President, and handed him an economy on the brink, and a national debt whose numbers, if they were degrees Fahrenheit, would result in thermonuclear meltdown.

A meltdown implies that you may be at a point of no return, so the first thing you want to do with a meltdown, of course, is to try to contain it. And in this case, not let it grow into an era, or worse yet, a century. Do I sound too negative? I'm not the one who first called it the "Decade from Hell." I'm just going with the general theme, here.

We could call it the "Decade of Decline." (But that's not very optimistic, either, is it? Or is it overly optimistic, considering we don't really know what's in store for us during the upcoming decade?)

The "Decade of Downward Mobility." Feels like it, but let's hope not.  And again, we should probably wait with this until we know what lies ahead.

Of course, it's helpful to be more number-specific when referring to a decade. And when a decade's numbers end in "ies", the moniker rolls off our tongues with so much more ease. The Gay 90's. The Roaring 20's. The Swinging 60's. 

The decade about to end is giving us particular problems, not the least of which is what to call those zeroes. (I'm not talking about the "zeroes" running our country, our corporations, and our banks this past decade, who brought on this mess. I can think of lots of names for them.)

The problem seems to be what to call the zeroes between the number two and the single digits that mark the first ten years of our new century/millenium.

The "Aughts" has been suggested. Also, the "Naughts." The "Naughties?"  Somehow the "Naughties" sounds too innocuous for the ravages of the past ten years. Bernie Madoff wasn't just naughty. He ruined people's lives.

I took a tack of tackling the "Zeroes."

The "Zero Progress Decade?" True, but still too mild.

The "Zero Hope Decade?" O, I hope not.

The "Oh Oh Decade?"

The "Oh Oh We're So Screwed Decade?" Possibly true. But not elegant.

After some reflection I realized the O-O problem had been solved decades ago by Ian Fleming, who gave our popular culture the smoother-than-smooth, roll-right-off-your-tongue "Double-O-Seven."

So I started brainstorming the "Double-O-somethings."

Perhaps I'd refine Time Magazine's suggestion to the "Double-O Decade from Hell."

Shorter is better, though. So maybe we should just call it the "Double Oh Hell Decade."

The "Depressing Double O's?" Apparently not, because we've been told that it's "just" a recession.

Maybe it's the "L-OO-NG Recession." Or, the "Regression," when you consider how poorly our big banks, corporations and legislators have been acting when it comes to protecting and restoring our economy and the welfare of our communities and families. I wouldn't be the first person to suggest that over the past decade America seems to have gone backward.

The "Disastrous Double-O's." Hmmm. That encompasses 9/11, the tsunami, Hurricane Katrina and our government's pitiful response to it, the foreclosure crisis, the disaster befalling so many 401K's, the disastrous loss of jobs, the disastrous economy. It describes the consumer's overall experience of this decade that was disastrous in so many ways. 

The "Double-O Debacle?" Now we're getting more finger-pointy.

As in, the debacle of going to war under false pretenses, the debacle of the way the war effort and the war on terror were run, the credit default swap debacle, the predatory lending debacle, the debacle of bailing out banks with billions of dollars and not attaching any strings to the loans, the debacle of bazillion-dollar rewards and salaries for the executives who led their companies to bankruptcy or bailout, the debacle of usurious interest rates and gotcha fees that drive consumers into bankruptcy and financial hopelessness but make the banks who got the bailouts even richer. The debacle of paying more for your health insurance than for your mortgage and being told you don't have coverage for your condition.

Lots of debacles this past decade.

And calling out the debacles might at least give small comfort to those who cry out, "Where's the outrage?"  Or, "Why aren't these guys going to jail?" Which makes me think maybe we should call this decade's lack of outrage or prosecution the "Big SN-OO-ZE." So many people and regulatory agencies asleep at the wheel.

Being a product of Marshall McLuhan's "The Medium Is The Message" era, I decided to try to incorporate into the name itself a bit of the new medium that I think most characterizes this past decade.

(Sorry, Time Magazine, but your use of the "_____ from Hell" convention goes way back to before the turn of the millenium, as comedian Richard Lewis would be happy to tell you.)

It turns out we have a language convention and communications technology that really only took root between the year 2000 and now. (Yet already the social implications for our popular culture have been profound and independent of the content of our messages. McLuhan would feel so vindicated.)

I'm speaking, of course, of that abbreviated form of communication known as text messaging, or "texting."

With that in mind, I would call this the "OMG Decade."

Or, if you have to be more time-specific, the "OMG Double O's."

Or, for real texting brevity, the "OMG 00s."  (Not sure if a texter would bother to put an apostrophe in that, as in the "OMG 00's.)

Or, since we furthered our fondness for exclamation points this past decade, you could even type it as the "OMG 00s!" 

Or the "OMG Decade!"  Or the "OMG! Decade."

"Oh My God" (aka OMG in texting) was the exact thing I uttered when I first saw the image of the World Trade Center burning. Or when I saw video of the second plane flying into the building. Or the towers collapsing and people running ahead of the cloud of smoke and debris. Or people and cars covered in inches of white ash and debris.

And OMG was what I said when I heard Congress agreed, based on dubious evidence, to invade a country in the Middle East that had nothing to do with 9/11, and where it's not uncommon for wars and conflicts to last for centuries. "Oh. My. God." I said to myself. "Do you have any idea of the Pandora's Box you are opening?" (But then, of course, I still remember the quagmire of the Vietnam Era.)

OMG was what I uttered as I saw reporters standing by bloated dead bodies of Hurricane Katrina victims still lying in the streets five days after the storm hit. OMG, for the sake of human decency, can't somebody DO SOMETHING? This is not a foreign country, oceans away. This is less than a three-hour plane ride from Washington, D.C. Can't we fly in troops from somewhere in America where it's sunny and nice and normal and everyone's enjoying their day, to help out with this horrendous human tragedy?

Lots of people were saying OMG this decade. LIke, OMG, there goes my job. Or OMG, there goes my health insurance. Or OMG there goes my 401K. Or OMG, there goes my home.  Or OMG, I can't believe I'm living off the dollar menu.

OMG was what I said when I heard the Feds were giving a NO STRINGS bailout of billions of dollars to the big banks, in hopes they would "feel better" about lending to small businesses. News flash to the Feds: they didn't feel like lending to us BEFORE the financial crisis. You squandered a real opportunity to grease the wheels of the small businesses that create most of the new jobs in this country. OMG.

OMG pretty much covers it for me when I think about the breathtaking failures and bailouts of businesses deemed "too big to let fail", while no real help was given to those of us who power 70% of the economy and collectively are "too big to let fail." OMG to those of you in "The Beltway" -- you are so missing the big picture.

Of course, in its own impersonal, abbreviated way, OMG does take the Lord's name in vain. But a lot of people were doing vain things in the name of God this past decade, if you count America's fallen evangelists, or our selfish and corrupt "family values" politicians who don't do what Jesus would do when it comes to taking care of the poor, sick and less fortunate. And of course there were the murdering terrorists who in the name of Allah dishonor the true intent of Islam.

The young people who initially coined "OMG" intended it more for much lighter usage, as in "OMG he's hot." Or, "OMG I can't believe my mom won't let me go to the mall tonight."

For a medium used by so many young people, many of whom have reached college age, you might expect there to be more abbreviations that express critical thinking or dissatisfaction. But for the most part, the texting abbreviations on the list I checked stand for fairly superficial phrases. Which, OMG, is a bit alarming in itself, IMHO.

Someone did come up with "FUBAR," which stands for "Fouled Up Beyond All Recognition", which might also be an appropriate description of the decade. ("Fouled" might also be the milder choice of words beginning with "F" in this abbreviation.)

You could call it the "FUBAR Decade", or the "OMG! FUBAR Decade."  But that's a bit longish and oblique.

So for now I'm going with the more ubiquitous OMG. The "OMG! Decade." Or, the "OMG! Double-O's," or the "Double OMG's" if you prefer to be more specific about time.  (See my recommendations above for variations on the punctuation.)

Those names don't exactly roll off your tongue. But it's not like they have to.

No one really talks anymore.

Everyone just texts. 

So those are some of my brainstorming ideas for an alternative to Time Magazine's "Decade from Hell." What are yours?

Reflect on the changes or hallmarks of the past decade, and continue our brainstorming by replying below.

When I decided to write about the effects pop cultural changes have on our health, I expected to have to make subtle distinctions and arguments in order to nudge happy, contented people toward change that would improve their long-term health. I never expected a tsunami to wipe over our mostly middle class America and change it so quickly and profoundly, I wouldn't even know where to begin.

I won't go into my whole rant here. But I will say this for those of you who aren't feeling any better just because "leading indicators" say things are getting better. The economy (and by extension the world economy) was in the Critical Care Unit and through drastic measures, the patient survived. The cost was huge, and now, unfortunately, economists predict a "weak recovery. "

Those are maddeningly abstract words uttered by politicians and wall street types who can afford to be patient and who are basically insulated from the realities of no health insurance, no health care when you're sick TODAY, no bailout for taking risks that pale in comparison to the ones the banks and AIG took, lost family homes, lost jobs, lost careers for baby boomers, lost pensions, lost opportunities for our kids, lost futures.

Not so abstract for those of us with our feet on the street. The "silver lining" stories and too-late financial advice the media feed us don't appease me. I keep meeting more and more shell-shocked people who never thought they'd be the ones to lose their well-paying jobs so late in their careers. I can feel their fear that they'll never be hired for a comparable job at a comparable salary and benefits package ever again. I can tell you that no one can live on $10 an hour (and pay for health insurance) because this spring, to get away from my computer and get outdoors and back around people and plants, I took an eight-week job a garden center. It was fun and it re-energized me. But it would never pay my bills.

Everyone's talking recovery, but no one's talking about the long-term lower standard of living for many middle class Americans.

Not surprisingly, one of the first things to go when you're dealing with your own personal economic crisis is your exercise and healthy eating program. Gone are the days of expensive olive oils and grilled salmon once or twice a week, with all those healthy Omega 3's that you need now more than ever to help protect you from stress. And when nothing in your life is as it was, neither is your exercise program.

Now, surprisingly, I'm not going to preach to you about staying on your same fitness routine. If you can, great! It will help you handle the stress, and be in better shape to take on the new challenges in your life.

Instead I'm going to suggest you take the time you need to batten down the hatches, and when you begin to get some emotional strength back, start doing what you can to improve your fitness habits. Take it in small steps. Do it for yourself.

I have to say that I found myself almost resentful of my running routine because it implied that everything was normal when it wasn't. I could no longer afford the fees to run in all the wonderful road and trail races (and even a few sprint triathlons) that motivated me to push myself harder during training. And believe me, I need the extra push. Studies show that while walking is better than no exercise, to burn fat you really need to ramp up your heart rate and sweat. For me, that means jogging/running, if not long distances, at least an occasional all-out sprint.

Still I found myself resigned to a lackluster effort and the notion that any exercise I get now is mainly for my mental health. You have to get away from the computer sometimes and reconnect with nature.

I spent my first twelve years of running in the Scenic and Wild St. Croix River Valley. For my computer break today I thought I'd drive my Chevy to the levy (well make that a Mazda and I left if home) to soak up some serenity along the banks of the Mighty Mississipp'.

I expected that on that treeless trail just south of Saint Paul I would gaze out at the green islands hosting resting egrets and other white birds as the blue waters (today, because of the sky) of Mark Twain's river rolled silently but powerfully by. Ahhhh. I'd gaze at the distant, docked barges (I looooove barges) and all would be right in my world.

What I got looked more like something out of a Richard Scarry "Busytown" book. And it goes something like this:

Two blocks out of the chute I hear multiple sirens and see a fire engine racing up to the high-rise where my mother used to live. Now a police car, and after that an ambulance, lights flashing and sirens screaming. I don't see smoke. To be polite, I cross over to the other side of the street and hope it's just a kitchen fire and everyone's OK.

I run down the hill, post a letter and jog past the U.S. Postal Service parking lot uniformly lined with all those quaint little open-air trucks. Now it's down to the levy trail but first, a decision on whether to cross the railroad tracks that run parallel to the levy trail, or run down to the pedestrian spiral overpass.

A big yellow sign appears. "WARNING! Engines May Be Remote Controlled." This tells me I may not want to mess with that train about a block back, sitting perfectly still, but with its lights on, looking ready to go at any moment. I'm sure I can make it across. What's the worse that can happen?

And then it sets in. My fear of dying stupidly, as in, I'm crossing the track and a sudden low blood sugar attack fells me directly in the path of a slow-moving but remote-controlled train. Unconscious, I lie there... and oh well, I'll run up to the overpass.

Jogging along I see a little white Park Patrol pick-up truck cruising along the trail. A welcome sight since I've not been sure how safe this trail is. (Not that one should ever become complacent.)

The train starts to move. Slowly. Very slowly. I'm thinking, hey, I probably run faster than this train. Which is not saying much for the train.

Then it stops, and out gets a remote-controlled engineer. (Kidding. It was a real-human-being- engineer.) He walks up ahead on the tracks and then back, as if to check for obstacles. (Don't know what they'd be. There haven't been any cows down here for years.) This gives me time to get up over the spiral pedestrian bridge and set my plan.

Today, I'm going to race that train. (Because I also loooove trains, and maybe watching all that crazy racing in the Tour de France last week rubbed off on me.) Of course I'm going to give myself an advantage, as I'll be coming down the long ramp from the overpass, but oh well. It's a train!

The train clangs its bell. Ding ding ding. How cute is that? Then it begins to move. OK, buddy. It's on!

I wait for the engine to come under the overpass, and as soon as we're lined up, I take off running (I'm in no way suggesting that me, running, was a glorious sight, so maybe you shouldn't try to visualize it.)

Easy peasy. I leave the train behind me in the dust!

I decide hey, that was fun, I have no shame, and why not make it a real test -- a foot-race on flat ground.

I pick a marker about fifty yards ahead and using my head-start, take off again. And I STILL win. By my estimation this train is going considerably slower than five miles per hour.

With the race over and my attention span waning (and the train steadily picking up speed), I head back along the trail. I take a look out at the distant barges and try to think restful, far-off thoughts. Man on bike passes by in front of me. Speedboat passes by in the opposite direction. Man on bike passes by again in the other direction. The only thing I'm missing on this busy trail today are actual runners.

The last car of the train finally passes me and I noticed that it's not a charming little caboose--just another any-old-car. I'm not sure why this is disconcerting, but it is. Just an anomaly? Or part of the new world order where we had to cut expenses so trains don't have cabooses?

I decide to take the long view upstream, and I see the modest-not-quite-skyscrapers of downtown Saint Paul, including the one with the big red "one" on top. It stood for 1st National Bank (long gone.) When I was a little kid we'd get so excited as we crossed the Wabasha Street bridge and the big red one would flash on and off to let us know we were in the big little city of Saint Paul.

Once I proudly boasted to my parents from the back seat of the car that I knew that the "one" was for One-A-Day Multiple vitamins. They seemed to get a big kick out of that. I'm sure I remember being laughed at because even at age five, I already considered myself something of a little "branding" geek. (TV!)

In 2001 I got my chance to work in that building with the big red "one" on top, when I was Creative Director for the in-house agency of a finance company that is now GE Retail Credit. That building, by the way, has the world's first skyway (as far as we know) built around 1930. So much for clearing my trivia-prone mind on a run.

Now it's back over the spiral bridge past a newspaper vending machine with a paper in its window reminding me that today is the two-year anniversary of the I-35W bridge collapse into the Mississippi River in Minneapolis. The constant, local TV coverage imprinted in my mind such a surreal scene, a tragic, scary pandemonium I don't think even Richard Scarry could have ever imagined.

Maybe it's a Twin Cities thing but I seldom cross a bridge now without thinking what the sensation would be of the bridge suddenly falling out from under me and my car plunging all that distance into the river that is so beautiful to look at but no place to actually be in without a boat. I double back and gaze out at the river and take a moment of silence for those who didn't survive, and maybe even more so, for those who did and will never forget the trauma.

Now it's back up the hill where all seems back to normal at the formerly-on-fire-somewhere-inside high-rise. One more steep hill down and then back up, where I come upon a little boy struggling to ride his bike up the hill. We commiserate that it's always harder going up than down. He takes off full blast down the hill again. No helmet. Now don't get me started on that.

Today's run was not at all bucolic, as I had expected it to be. And maybe that's the point. Life changes. When life hands you lemons, sometimes you make lemonade. Sometimes you're stubborn enough to just throw the lemons right back. Do what works for you. Things will never be the same. But that doesn't mean you can't get back on track to improve your fitness habits. It's just a different track. Today I went out for a relaxing walk/jog, and instead I raced a train and actually broke a sweat.

Jen

Business Owners' IdeaCafe is a site that takes "A fun approach to serious business!" (Just like ColorCode Mode journals take a fun approach to fitness journaling.) They're also one of the few organizations that offers outright grants to small businesses. That's important for reasons I'll blog about later.

But for now, we're thrilled and honored to be recognized for our "innovation and originality", and to be included in this group of entrepreneurs that impressed Idea Cafe "with their inventiveness and willingness to leverage their business acumen and personal talents to help others."

The Innovation and Originality Grant application only allowed one name from Luhrs Media Compay to be entered, and it's mine, but I assure you that Idea Cafe's criteria apply to my daughter/business partner as well, in every way.

Thank you, Idea Cafe!

So I watched St. Paul-born Dan Buettner talking with Dr. Oz and Oprah about Blue Zones, places in the world where people live long, healthy lives. I've admired Buettner's work for some time, especially the way his work/mission/lifestyle all intersect, as they have in my life since Alexis and I began publishing our fitness journals.

Dan talks about the importance of social support networks and getting together with friends and people you've known all your life and that reminds me I grew up with some Buettners in South St. Paul but I would never give them a call to see if they're related because that's not what we do these days.

Not much of what popular culture does these days resembles what people do in the Blue Zones, except for, maybe, drinking red wine, a health habit a lot of people seem happy to oblige.

Many people in Blue Zones garden and harvest the majority of their own food, which might catch on a bit more in the U.S. depending on how the recession goes. One of my seed catalogs is promoting again the idea of a Victory Garden, but even seeds and gardening supplies may be out of the budget range of many middle Americans, whose fortunes have changed very rapidly.

Just the other day a Colorado farmer opened up his already harvested land to anyone who wanted to glean what was left of the potatoes, leeks and carrots. An astounding 40,000 people showed up and dug in the dirt and picked the fields clean. For vegetables! That's stiff competition for even the dollar menu at McDonald's, and much healthier. (Unless people were planning to make greasy fries from their bounty. Not much you can do to make a carrot unhealthy.)

As much as I adore and would like to promote gardening for fitness (in 1990, I zoomed down to my pre-baby weight by installing seven perennial gardens at a rural conference center), changing people's habits through economic collapse is not what I had in mind. Seeing so many people motivated by a fear of hunger sent shivers up my spine and put a tear in my eye at the same time. And I'm rather stoic.

But back to what we learned from the Blue Zones.  Get regular, moderate exercise. Eat less meat, more nuts. Get some sunshine every day so that your body makes vitamin D. Eat a plant based diet. According to Dr. Oz, do squats for your quadriceps because once they go, you're not long for this world. All good stuff we SHOULD do. But easier said than done because we live in a HOT ORANGE ZONE where all the cultural cues and most of our friends invite us to stuff ourselves on unhealthy over-processed foods for which we expend little to no physical effort.

Barring a complete economic meltdown that has us all out gleaning in the fields for a subsistence, how do you tune out all the modern temptations and distractions and live like you're in a Blue Zone?

Well, you know what I'm going to say. Take advantage of any social support you can find that encourages healthy habits. But for the rest, turn inward through fitness journaling or a food diary. Negotiate with yourself to set small goals to practice the healthy suggestions from the Blue Zones book long enough for some of them to become habits, a normal, natural part of your lifestyle.

As you do this, your lifestyle will rub off on those around you, to help create a mini Blue Zone, in your home, your workplace, your community.

Of course we think that the best way to journal some Blue Zone into your life is to color one of our ColorCode Mode journals or food diaries in any of the colors you choose to denote your healthy actions each day. Green, yellow, blue. It's quick and easy and all up to you.

And because we were so excited about Dan's Blue Zones story on Oprah, we created some red-hot coupons to help you save on our Lean Mode, Color Code—Not Your Usual Food Diary eBook. This is a tool that can help you make good on all your good intentions after seeing Oprah's show. With all due respect to Maya Angelou, when we know better, we don't necessarily do better.

From the previews I think Oprah is going to be broaching her weight gain and struggle this January. But she needn't beat herself up. Sometimes we just need to change things up. Oprah may have hit the wall where outside forces no longer motivate her. Sometimes we need a tool that helps foster our fitness self-motivation, self-control, self-reliance. That's something a trainer alone can't do for us.

The people who have been using our journals regularly (some since 2004!) have been very actively ordering more this past week. That gives us a chance to practice one of the other Blue Zone habits: gratitude.

We are always thankful for the people who use our journals year after year to create healthier lifestyles. We just wish we had more of you.

And so this Thanksgiving week, we will give thanks for our many blessings, and also add our perpetual prayer to be blessed by the Oprah effect. She's featured Bob GREEN and the BLUE Zones, and could now pull together those colors nicely for people (and herself) by getting into COLORCODE MODE—where ANY color goes, as long as you 1) only color in positive things you do, and 2) color in something good every day.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!

Today's the day you weigh in on how the people you employ to keep your government and your economy healthy and thriving are doing, and whether or not you want to rehire them.

An entire populace can check its pulse, stress levels and bank book, and with relative ease, vote to continue in the same direction, or make a change and bring in new people.

Our nation's founders were big believers in regularly scheduled change, probably because they understood that it's a lot easier to vote than to wage a revolutionary war.

The four-year interval they specified for executive change was ambitious and intriguing, considering how slowly business and daily life moved in 1788. News, or long-distance financial transactions, moved at the speed of a horse. Or, for overseas transactions, a frigate.

Now consider the lightning BlackBerry speed with which completely unregulated, high risk, over-the-counter credit default swaps circled the globe and grew from an estimated notational amount of $13.9 trillion in December 2005 to between $45 and $62 trillion today but of course nobody really knows for sure and you can see wheeeeeee how fast that change got away from us.

And while decades-old notions of trickle down and trickle up economics were being debated during the campaign, the plug had already been pulled on the vast middle class and that gushing sound you heard was the spending power that fuels over 70% of the U.S. economy going bye-bye.

Except for that big chunk that's frozen for nobody really knows how long because in an unprecedented redistribution of wealth we can barely begin to fathom, Congress gave banks billions of dollars in hopes they'd feel better and start lending again. Instead they're buying up other banks which reduces competition and oh yes also giving their executives huge bonuses which probably isn't the change Congress was hoping for which tells me a) they needed to be more specific in handing out the money which shame on them they should have known, and b) they really weren't equipped to handle this kind of rapid decision-making in the face of such unprecedented change in our economy.

Which also tells me that more than ever we need leaders who are visionaries and can process the rapid rate of change in the world. This may not be the person you'd most like to have a beer with, but that's OK, you can still have a beer with people you like, if you can afford it. We need leaders who are way ahead of the curve.

Functionally, our executive branch should be versed in change and at the very least fluent in using email. And they're going to have to have brilliant advisors who can comprehend the ways the technologically adept can game the system (Department of TRON) and also how to work with the vast middle as it writhes its way through unacceptably painful changes and morphs into something else, perhaps via its own shadow economy (Secretary of the Squishy.)

And then there's our broken down system of health care delivery, that so many are afraid to change or even tinker with, as if it were working. It's going to take astute leaders who can take an entirely fresh and thorough look. This is where I get on my soapbox and remind individual Americans that just as your votes add up to elect your leaders, your individual health behaviors add up to a healthy nation or a sick nation. With both deficits and health care costs spiraling out of control, making even small improvements in our health habits is one of the few areas where we can each make a difference that helps lower costs for our over-burdened system.

The last eight years have changed America profoundly and no one can predict what kind of drastic changes might still be ahead for the American people, and the rest of the world by association.

But what if we were stuck for decade after decade after decade with a government as incompetent as the one we've had the past eight years? Would you feel so desperate as to hop aboard a wooden boat, cross an ocean, and play Survivor for real in a strange land with no phones to call home? Would you fight a war to get free of a lousy ruler? Would you back away from your computer screen and go vote?

Two hundred years ago some guys got together and built a system of government based on constant and regular executive change. They picked four years as the interval, based on what, I don't know, but I'm sure glad they did. And the rest is history.