Rainy Days

Last week, I worked all day to try to find out who votes all those communally-owned shares of stock floating around in the world. I'm still as much in the dark as I was when I began that tortuous quest, but I have a bit of insight, thanks to the Big Lug. He told me that maybe no one votes it because no one needs to vote it - if a mutual fund is doing its job, the managers won't have it when it gets to the point that they need to vote the rats out.

That made so much sense, I just gaped. (He's completely brilliant, I know.) But his perspective raised a host of new questions and concerns. For instance, when a stock is sliding, the only people I know who are buying are those who either want a quick buck (so won't call for huge changes if they want only to sell off once it goes over a certain point) or who are shoring up the prices for appearances' sake (something within the company - yeah, they'll vote themselves out, right?). When a stock hits an all-time low, I'm not sure who is even buying at that point. Not Mr. and Mrs. America, who, by this time, don't trust the rats at all.

This week, I found out that the shareholders probably don't have that much power anyway. Congress is pushing for reforms in how executive compensation is done. They are trying to empower the shareholders to make some of those decisions - should the CEO get a bonus or not this year? - which means they don't have that power now. I understand, to a degree - I'm not in business, so I don't know what it takes to attract the very talented to my organization - but I know I want the best to run my organization. I think what happened is that everyone wanted the same rates, and things on Wall Street were going so quickly that no one cared about paying everyone more - whether the rat deserved it or not. The upper echelons grew at such a disproportionate rate of compensation that the company had to accomodate the change ... until and unless it failed.

It's not as if this is anything new. Monday was the official Opening Day of major league baseball. At least two games were snowed out (that I saw). Snowed out! Am I the only one who freaks out over that? I'm old enough to remember when the games didn't begin until almost Memorial Day and ended much closer to Labor Day. (They're called the "Boys of Summer" for goodness' sake, not the "Boys of Almost-Winter-Summer-Almost-Winter-Again!") The season had to be extended, of course, because the really good players wanted higher salaries, which meant that the league had to add more days to the schedule, then even more, to keep up. And the more the players worked, the more they wanted to make. And so on, and so on, and so on. Baseball, basketball, it almost doesn't matter what sport you talk about - it's the same all over. Until the athlete falls flat or turns into an FPD (freakin' prima donna), no one even notices the salaries any more.

Movies aren't any better. The really big box-office stars now have really big box-office vehicles written practically for them - or as "them" as the studios can get. Talent? Heck, if a guy looks good without a shirt, can give and take a punch, who cares about either the talent of the actor or the talent of the scriptwriter. Just get put George-Matt-Brad on the job and we'll have a hit no matter how cheesy the finished product is! I don't miss the old contract player days of the 30's - 50's because (seriously) we didn't leave it! We still have the same stable of actors over and over, the same group of screenwriters over and over, the same themes over and over, even remake after remake ... it's the same system, darn it - only the salaries of the highest-paid actors have changed. (The television networks are about the only medium that truly has turned over a new leaf - now they don't bother to give new shows enough time to prove themselves, as they used to, because they just don't have the big budgets, and the built-in audiences.)

And everybody suffers - because baseball just isn't made for hot chocolate and spiked oranges, darn it ... nor am I made for the generic flavor of the month, "insert-title-here" "comedy-action-drama" box-office cookie-cutter dreck that chokes both my neighborhood theater's marquee and my nightly lineup on the major networks (except for cable, which tooketh away the network's power, but also giveth back in the form of some really good shows).

Anyway, earlier this year, Congress had considered capping corporate compensation themselves, but changed their minds with the uproar over the spectre of socialization (try saying that sentence three times really fast, especially the first part). While I'm happy they're focusing now on giving the people more power in the board room instead, I'm not sure it's the solution. Will we use it? Really? I mean, we gawk at the latest superstar's salary but we don't boycott baseball or the latest blockbuster dud, do we? (Okay, I do - minor league games for me, not major, and I wait on movies until they get to DVD or cable - but do most people?) And once Wall Street gets back into the higher ranges will we pay that much attention to the executives and the boards of directors then? Or will we fall back into our apathetic, just-give-it-to-me ways?

I won't, for sure. This whole journey has been one of learning, of discovery, and of change. I honestly can never go back to live in that person's skin - lazy Bunny, complacent Bunny. And I doubt very much if I'm the only one to feel this stirring, this rebellious, gotta-change-the-world idealist lifting her head from the cushy pillow of her overly long nap. We can still make a difference in the way things are.

All we have to do is remember.

All we have to do is try.

Anybody want to start a movie studio?