Promises, Teachers, and Taxes

A while ago, the Michigan state legislature decreed that all teacher would have to pay 3% of their salaries to the State as a retirement fund.  The Michigan Education Association opposed this, as you may imagine.  3% doesn't sound like much as a percentage, but in my case, it works out to losing $270 per month, every month.  That's out of take-home, not gross, I might add.

Can you afford to lose $270 per month?  Neither can I.

But it gets worse.  The law only states that teachers have to pay the money.  It doesn't state that the money must be used for teacher pensions.  In other words, the legislature can raid that fund whenever they like for any reason they like.  There's no guarantee the money will be there for me when I retire.

"Oh," people say, "they wouldn't dare touch it."

Sure.  Just like the federal government wouldn't dare raid Social Security, or the State of Michigan wouldn't dare raid the school aid fund.

However, the MEA sued the State.  Their argument went something like this: "The money is not by law guaranteed as a retirement fund, which means it's nothing but a tax on teachers.  It's unconstitutional in Michigan to levy a tax on a single type of employee.  This law is unconstitutional and should be overturned."

The State's response?  "Piffle! The money is there for retirement purposes, and we wouldn't ever touch it.  We totally promise."

The case is still pending.  However, the Ingram County judge who reviewed the case did rule that all the money has to go into a special holding account, where no one can touch it.  And the politicians wince and give fake smiles.  "That's for the best, Your Honor.  Of course, of course."

We'll see if the law gets struck down, but in the meantime, I lose $270 per month.

Rushing to Ukraine

Today I ran everywhere getting ready for the Ukraine trip.  We had a small bombshell--Gene casually let drop by email that one of Sasha's sisters has two children.  What the hell?  I was seriously angry at him.  The whole point of me hiring him to visit Ostapy was to learn this kind of thing and report back to us.  On top of it, he didn't bother to mention what gender the kids are, which meant I had to email him again to get more information.

"Oh, didn't I mention?" he wrote back.  "I thought I did."

No, he hadn't.  After another email from me, he wrote back to say they were both boys under the age of five.  He didn't mention their names, so I had to write =again= to ask about that.

At any rate, I took Mackie toy shopping for them.  I bought some bubble stuff, Slinkies, Pez dispensers with refills, and airplane-shaped fans that whoosh at you with their propellers.  I think the boys (my grand-nephews?) will like them.

Back home, there was much stuff to gather--toiletries, clothes, entertainment thingies, and so on.  Sasha had vanished and wasn't answering his cell phone, so I drove down to his friend's house, found him, and snarled that he needed to get home RIGHT NOW.  Did he think the magical Europe fairies would get everything done for his trip?

When he got home, I made him do all the laundry, mow the lawn, mop the kitchen floor, pack his suitcase to specifications, and fill his backpack with entertainment stuff for the flight.  I also made him sit through a going-over of airline security procedure, since he wasn't really a participant when he came to the US the first time.

Somewhere in there I made supper for the boys--homemade pizza--and packed my own suitcase.  The phone rang and rang and rang.  Kala.  My mother.  My father.  My friend Kurt.  I finally stopped answering it.  There was a bad moment when it looked like Sasha's passport had disappeared, but it turned up.

Once it was all done (as much as could be tonight) I watched the latest DOCTOR WHO to unwind for a while.

Modern Feminism

We take a break from today's Ukraine packing to bring you a piece of today's DEAR ABBY column.  I have run into this exact attitude among many women my age and younger, and it flabbergasts me as well.  I'll remember Abby's reply:

DEAR ABBY: My view of feminism is very broad and is based on the belief that women are -- and should be -- politically, socially and economically equal to men. I am dumbfounded when I hear young women proudly proclaim that they are not feminists after learning that I am. What is the appropriate response when comments such as, "I'm not a feminist -- I expect men to take care of everything for me!" are directed toward me? -- FLABBERGASTED FEMINIST IN AUSTIN, TEXAS

DEAR FLABBERGASTED: Smile and ask, "And what are you going to do when they don't?"

http://www.uexpress.com/dearabby/?uc_full_date=20100629

All Ready!

Okay, I think we're all set!  We have exchanged the toys.  Sasha and I went to the toy store and got and little motorcycle and a rider for his two-year-old nephew and one of those bead-and-wire maze toys for the one-year-old.  I also snagged a package of baby care stuff--oil, lotion, rash cream, etc.--for the mother.  Nice!

After a flurry of packing and double-checking, everything is set and ready to go.  My mother will be here any minute.

=Now= I'm ready to look forward to the trip.  Watch out, Ukraine!  The Pizikses are returning!