Congressman Gerard Fox walked into his office looking like Ichabod Crane in pin stripes. His secretary, Elizabeth Miller, who had been wearing the same beehive style hairdo for four decades, followed him into his office, placed a stack of pink messages neatly on his desk and then waddled down the hall and out the North door of the Rayburn House office building to sneak a smoke.
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It is a magnificent spring morning. You ease your car into your parking space at the office, turn the key to off and step into the brisk morning sunshine. Walking across the parking lot, you wonder how it is that an evening’s rain can clean things so purely that it smells like the air just took a bath. As you bound through the front door of the office you see the receptionist just settling down to her desk, a cup of Starbucks finest occupies her immediate attention. “Good morning Melinda, how’s it going?”
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I keep reading “optimistic” economic predictions by reporters who make Mary Poppins sound like a pessimist. Let’s not kid ourselves; this economy has not bottomed and frankly shows no signs of doing so.

I don’t want to beat a dead horse here (having discussed this matter in our last issue), but we should make sure we are confronting the economic landscape as it is, not how we wish it to be.
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There is a growing trend in American advertising that must derive its aesthetic and emotional themes from cum laude graduates of the Genghis Kahn School of Communication.

Surely you have seen them; ads that use anger, upset, pain or even death in unpleasant or disturbing efforts to push the advertiser’s wares.
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