The Trials of the “Creative Class”

I weave hemp ponchos, tie-died with 100% organic vegetable dyes...You got any Doritos?
I weave hemp ponchos, tie-died with 100% organic vegetable dyes…By the way, you got any Doritos?

I laughed so hard scotch shot out my nose and my ears!

Ben Schachter, Professor of Visual Arts (ahem) at St. Vincent College, writes in The Weekly Standard bemoaning the less the rosy reality of life under the Affordable Care Act (aka Obamacare) for artists musicians, and writers.

Right out of the gate he writes:

Nancy Pelosi waxed rhapsodic in 2010 as she imagined the benefits of Obamacare: “Think of an economy where people could be an artist or a photographer or a writer without worrying about keeping their day job in order to have health insurance.”

Well, that was the economy we used to have. But as Obamacare begins to kick in, artists, photographers, writers, and other members of the “creative class” who have access to health insurance programs through numerous professional organizations will lose that coverage. [emphasis mine]

Say wha?! Since when has an “artist” ever been able to survive without a day job? Unless you’re Pablo Picasso, Paul McCartney, or Stephen King, you can’t live off of art!

He goes on to explain how many artists associations/guilds, who once offered group insurance at reasonable rates for their deadbeat artist membership, are now dropping those plans.

No kidding. Welcome to the real world hippies!

Actual hardworking, productive Americans are finding themselves in the same boat, as their employers drop health insurance benefits due to exorbitant rate increases engendered by ACA. If large corporations are cutting their employees loose, vis-a-vis health insurance, why should the non-productive, dilettante creative class get a pass?

Unless they are older or suffer from some preexisting condition that made coverage hard to obtain, freelance artists, designers, and musicians forced to enter the state-run exchanges are far more likely to see their rates go up—or to face the individual mandate penalties. This will be especially true, as alert observers of Obamacare implementation have noted, for those under the age of 30.

Psst! Hey, you guys! Put down the bong and listen to me: Just because you spend your days making dream-catchers, doesn’t mean you’re exempt from the stupid choices you make in the voting booth. We’re all getting it in the keister with this abomination. The staggering thing is that ACA will really hurt the folks who make our economy work, and that ain’t you.

Listen, I feel you. I’m one of you! I’m a nere-do-well writer for cryin’ out loud! But hardship for the “creative class” is hardly a national catastrophe. So yes, as Mr. Schachter writes, you probably oughta sell you sitar, get a haircut, and then get a job.

Shine on you crazy diamonds!

Advertising in the PoMo Age

My spleen is aching because I’m about to aid and abet advertisers without gettin’ paid, but this is kinda funny…and effective advertising to boot.

This ad has gone viral, so I guess by calling attention to it, I’m technically a carrier. Typhoid Rob they call me. <cough>

My Imaginary Friends

I was talking with a writer friend of mine today about the lives of characters. It imaginary-friendsmay sound weird, but it is a truth in writing that your characters must become real people—or at least they should do.

Our discussion centered around character development. She is working on the draft of a novel which I had the privilege of reviewing. In our debriefing we talked about putting flesh on the characters and she said an interesting thing. I don’t think I’m giving away any of the plot by paraphrasing her. She said,

When I started, I thought it was going to be Character A’s parade—Character B was simply going to be a minor character when in reality she stole the show. And I can’t explain it but I identified more with Character C and Character B than any of the others.

Continue reading “My Imaginary Friends”

Preach It Brother!

talentsOn His Blindness

When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg’d with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
“Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”

I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: “God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best.
His state Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o’er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.

 ~ John Milton, 1652

Summer’s Over

Put away your white bucks and dig out your boots. Before we say goodbye to Summer, I thought we’d start out the long weekend with some music—of course.

Here’s my new favorite group, Hot Club of Detroit with ‘J’Attendrai’ which translates to “I’ll wait.” Take it away boys…