I feel a bit loonier
The news should have made the bus stop; instead, it was the usual road construction. After an absence of three decades, the real dollar (dollard?) has come back to daze and confuse us all. To the chagrin of industrial barons and closet economists alike, our currency was (for a brief moment) today at par with the almighty dollar. But, as a famous Peggy once sang, “If that’s all there is, my friend, then let’s keep dancing”.
You see, even though I am now richer than I was a year ago, it’s just an illusion. To my banker, I’m still one more entry in the debit column. To my bookseller, I’m the guy that buys the lion’s share of his used English paperbacks. At the gas pumps, I’m just another sucker. My “newer, stronger, brighter” currency (and oh, how those dollars were shining as they fell off the press in a newsclip this evening) really is just a marker in a much larger poker game. Where I hold none of the cards.
Realistically, the stronger dollar will cause a few more jobs to head to warmer climates. Ask my cousin, he understands the pain. If I continue to invest in junk on eBay, the shipping penalty will hurt less. Lettuce will rise in price soon, if only because it can. I don’t intend to leave on a jet plane, or take a cruise to some tropical island. I’m a prisoner in a shell game. I could start to collect Ben Franklins, in anticipation of the next adjustment, but there isn’t that much extra cash around the old cookie jar. Loonies and chocolate chip cookies are a terrible mixture. It’ akin to when the price of gas is about to go up, and I decide to tank before the abyss… hey, I just saved sixty-five cents, everybody. The next round’s on me.
Tomorrow, the headline will be predictable. So will the price of the newspaper. You win some, you lose some.
