Wednesday, March 7, 2012

A March Maddness Money Minute With Uncle JP


Hey there, youngen! Remember me? I'm your uncle … your Uncle JP Pennybags. I was wondering if you'd spare some change for family? What? No, I'm not looking for a handout! Why you think you're on top of the world, don't you? So did I! And let me tell you where it got me …


The year was 1929. I thought I had a green-light to the top of the world. I was all set to have a monopoly in real-estate. Land speculation was all the rage. Fortunes were being made and sold over night in business, stocks … land. And in land, I thought I was going to build a monopoly. Boy, was I wrong.


I lost my shirt in railroads at a time when people stopped traveling across the country for fun. The stock market went further south than a penguin after a home, and in half the time! People were traveling the rails just to eat. And when they were eating, they weren't paying for it, sonny-boy. Why, I was paying for it. Every last little hobo from Tex-Arkana to Ticonderoga was riding my rails for free, and if they didn't have the money to pay for fares, you can bet your bottom-dollar that they weren't paying for their feed.


Speaking of bottom-dollar, are you using yours? If not, mind if I …


Skinflint! Anyway, here I was, an honest businessman with a growing family … of rail-lines! I controlled four entire railroad companies, which made me a regular Lord of the Locomotives. And if it wasn't for those darned-able hobos … I would be still. I petitioned no less than the President of these United States to reign the scamps and rascals in. Debtors prisons worked for the British Empire for a century, and if something is good enough for an empire, I thought it was good enough for an empire of rail lines.

See, though, this is where things started to get funny. I spent a fortune cajoling Congressmen and the President to my point of view. The President agreed with me that something needed to be done. But he did entirely the wrong thing, see?


He raised taxes on me. ME! He said that I had the means to pay for programs to put the hobos to work, of all things! Have you ever heard of anything so preposterous? Why, that's not what I wanted, and I can't believe that's what they wanted either! If those darned hobos had wanted to work in the first place … well, they wouldn't have been freeloading on my rail cars or getting paid through my tax-money … I ask you, why should I have to pay any extra money to buy a yacht today than what I would have paid yesterday? I worked hard to make other people work for my money, and I wasn't about to watch some daisy-brained “do-gooder” fritter it all away by turning my fortune into some sort of Community Chest for the poor!


I did what any law-abiding millionaire would do in a situation like this. I decided to run for President! After all, I had experience with elections - I had been elected Chairman of the Board more times than most people could count. So, after hiring a crack team to manage my election, I decided to take a chance and throw my hat into the presidential ring … which I shouldn't have done because I lost not only my hat but my shirt, too.


Now, this is about the time in my story where I went straight to jail. I had poured all of my fortune into the Presidential race of 1936, and after I lost, it wasn't long before my creditors came to collect. They took the yacht, my houses, the hotel chains, the property … everything. I even lost my marbles … they took my collection of antique marbles, for pity's sake!


When I lost my marbles, that was all I could stand. Other people have their things taken away by the banks because they can't pay. Not me. I had those since childhood, and I did what any sane person would do. I called a press conference for my company … JP Penny's Incorporated, and at that press conference, I demanded my marbles back.


Well, that didn't set well with the Board of Directors. I lost my job, and I lost my company. Is there anything wrong with a man missing his marbles? I say, if more people in America today missed their marbles … if they even had marbles to begin with … this country would be a better place to live. Marbles are nice, and you can play great games with them when you aren't trying to beat out everyone and their uncle through monopolies. I swear by my marbles.


Or at least I would if I still had them.


I had to declare bankruptcy, and with that, my wife, Clarabelle - that wretched cow of a woman - tried to have me committed to the local sanitarium. I'm not crazy. I just lost my marbles! At my hearing, I proved my sanity to the judge by remarking on the beauty of his wife and her many fine qualities. She and I went to the same college you know? I got to know her quite well over watercolors when I went through an artist stage there, and ... The judge was not amused, found me in contempt of court in lieu of a finding of insanity, and sentenced me to ten days in the Pokey!


That's right. Old JP did some hard time.


No room service. No fine champagnes, no anything but bread and water. For ten whole days! And the showers were something akin to a common trough. Common troughs are for common people, and if they were going to send me to jail, it could have at least had separate rooms and heated towels.


Isn't that just madness? I know! Now, do you have any change for your dear old Uncle? No? Well, you're an old cheapskate just like the milkman, aren't you?


If you haven't got anything for me, let me give my two cents worth to you.


Friend, this is exactly why people like me shouldn't pay taxes. Not real taxes anyway. We work hard at making other people work hard for our money. Taxes go to fund projects for the common good? Then let them be paid by common people. When rich people have to pay taxes, it cuts into our yacht-buying, fancy parties, mistresses … did I just say that? Technically, the girls were on my payroll, so I guess that would make them employees. It affects our home-buying and vacations to places like the Baltic or the Mediterranean. And before you know it, when we can't afford all of these things because of our taxes … we lose our marbles! And then the world and the economy truly turn upside-down.

So, are you sure you can't spare any change?


PLEASE NOTE: Dear reader, the preceding installment was of a very long and rambling missive John Pierpoint penned earlier this month while experiencing severe fondue withdrawal for Lent. The staff of the Steam-punk Tintype and Telegraph report that he has never been, to their knowledge, a homeless, bankrupt hobo. He is also not an ex-convict. We regret not fact-checking this story before it was typeset, and we assure you to do better next month. Once again, the views expressed in this column are solely the thoughts of the column's author. The Steampunk Tintype and Telegraph endorses neither the views nor the vantage points expressed by Uncle JP.


Saturday, February 18, 2012

Valuable Lessons To Learn For Valentines

Happy Valentine's Day, my friends. It's old Uncle JP here with another installment of the Money Minute. While stopping for a refuel of my private jet on my way to the Isle of Oingo-Boingo (I promised the Queen a rendition of "The Entertainer" for her birthday, and I am never one to disappoint a lady), I thought I would pen my latest thoughts on the financial bruhaha in Europe. Not quite the latest, as its been going on since at least 2010, but, I wish to address it nonetheless. That mess is the Greek financial crisis.

For the unaware, the Greek economy is in a complete tizzy due to too many wants and not enough revenues. Politicians lack a necessary political will to fix the crisis, and the people refuse to mend their ways. As such, with a national debt slowly approaching double the yearly production of the economy, it looks as though Greece may default on a whole host of debt obligations, leading the country and its people into a heady spiral of increasing economic anemia.

Now, if one is actually living in Greece, this can be a problem. Widespread chaos can pose more than a few problems, such as rioting, looting, pillaging, and what have you. However, for those not living in Greece, you can minimize your risks by keeping these little tips in mind:

1 ) If anyone shows up on your doorstep wanting to give you a giant wooden horse, don't let them in. History has shown that this is a
favored tactics of Greek looters who, hiding inside the horse, will
emerge from it when you least expect it to burn your house and run
away with your wife. This may be a good thing or a bad thing for you if it happens, but I warn you in any case.

2) If anyone offers to sell you a golden fleece, decline. Lambskin doesn't grow on trees (usually!), and even if it does, sword-wielding sailors are sure to appear sometime after in search of it. When that happens, don't say I didn't warn you. I got my money back, but my pride never really recovered from that little episode.

3) Lastly, following history, as the economy deteriorates, the internet is sure to soon be awash in a new and eligible crop of Grecian goddesses looking to alight to more prosperous shores. If you should notice any young ladies on singles sites that seem to be of Greek heritage with snakes for hair and who perpetually wear sunglasses, you may want to look elsewhere. If you don't, expect a future spent between a rock and a hard place. Romance is difficult enough as it is ... its even more so for lawn ornaments.

My plane is done, my friends, so it is time for me to focus on tickling some ivories ... namely, the Queen's. May my advice find you well and wise and most importantly, Happy Valentine's Day from myself and the staff at the Tintype and Telegraph!