I was already busy with something when my boss came skipping into work this morning. He's a young, driven, creative, hilarious, and brilliant man.
Instead of going to his office, he walked down to chat with me for a minute. Clay does that a few times a month, and I enjoy our visits.
Naturally, the conversation began with Clay telling me, "We're going to be okay." He's been saying that a lot lately. I like that he feels the need to reassure me, but this time I was compelled to reciprocate.
"I'm worried about you, Clay. I'm worried about having a Marxist in the White House and the effect it will have on your business."
Coffee almost squirted out of his nose. My thirtysomething superior was amused, but I was serious.
Clay told me that the proposed "changes" Obama promises to make will cost him an estimated 50 to 60K a year.
"That's two jobs! That's the new equipment I want!"
"Yeah. I won't be filling those two positions."
We had two entry level people quit in the past couple of months. Clay will not be hiring for those positions as a direct consequence of Obama's threats to the successful. And my new machine remains a dream for now. But the tax burden wasn't the only thing bothering me.
"Clay, it's bogus as all hell to penalize people who make something great out of nothing. You've done that, and I'm so proud of you. Everyone's proud of you. I'm worried about something else other than the tax burden. I'm worried about the controls and regulations on trade that may be coming your way. You rely on imports. This place wouldn't exist without them, and neither would my job. I'm worried that along with Marxism, another bogus idea might come into play, Nationalism."
I said that if the controls, regulations, and all out punishment gets to be too much for him, he should sell everything, pack up his adorable family, move to the Bahamas, and retire. There's nothing patriotic about being a slave.
Clay's smile was genuine, and his eyes were wide. "Oh my god! You have no idea how much I want to do that! I'd live in the grass hut! I'd work as a bartender at night and teach scuba diving by day. I don't want to own a bar, I just want to work in one. I want to walk to work in my flip flops and say, 'okay, where's the boat keys?...'"
I was delighted and surprized by his response. I had no idea this would be so easy.
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