America's The Greatest Ride of All

Roller coasters are great fun. Merry-go-rounds are great fun, too.

But merry-go-rounds are kind of old European fun. When I think of merry-go-rounds I think of Vienna, Austria. I think of organ music and mirrors and faces with masks.

Roller coasters are more American—Palisades Park, Coney Island, and King’s Dominion.

The theory behind the merry-go-round is to create a sort of pleasant monotony.

The idea behind the roller coaster is a thrill a minute. Speed.  Sharp turns. Scary drops. Yes, the roller coaster is definitely more America.

A nice thing about a roller coaster is that a lot of people can enjoy it together. In fact, a lot of people should enjoy it together. If you go on a roller coaster alone you might just as well go to the cotton candy booth and make something out of nothing, because when your ride is over, you’ve got nothing.

You have to have a crowd to do it right.  But that doesn’t mean everyone gets the same amount of fun or thrill. For some people, the roller coaster can’t go fast enough and they long for more. For others, it goes too fast but that’s all right because they want to push themselves to the limit for a short time. For some, it’s the challenge. For other’s, it’s the noise. Everyone has his or her own reason for riding the roller coaster.

While everyone has his or her own reason for riding a roller coaster, I’m sure we all would agree on one thing. A roller coaster should be safe. It shouldn’t go so fast that it falls off the tracks. There should be a safety bar to keep people from flying out of their seats. Imagine the irony of going on something to have a good time and winding up flying through the air and—well, you get the point.

So while it is important that a lot of people ride the roller coaster, it is also true that the most important people are the ones who design, build, and operate it. That is why it is almost mind boggling to think that the kid wearing the tee shirt and baseball cap with the tattoo on his arm and the cigarette dangling from his lips is in charge. But it’s true. Perhaps, that’s the scariest part of all about roller coaster rides.

What would happen if a small group of riders wanted the roller coaster to go faster and faster? What if it couldn’t go fast enough to please them? What if this kid in charge—this kid who doesn’t know anything about physics or gravity or centrifugal force; this kid who doesn’t understand that the purpose of the roller coaster in the first place is for a lot of people to have fun; this kid who is so insecure that all he wants is to be liked by the few people who want it to go faster and faster—what if this kid allows the roller coaster to go faster and faster?

What if people are falling off left and right?

What if people are pleading to get off?

What if people aren’t having any fun anymore?

What if even some of the people who wanted the roller coaster to go faster and thought they were having fun decide that they aren’t having fun anymore?

What if, in spite of all this, the kid’s desire to be popular and the small minority of rider’s burning greed—I’m sorry? Did I say greed? I meant to say burning desire for more speed.

Okay, I did mean to say greed.

The roller coaster ride isn’t one to be found at an amusement park somewhere in America. The roller coaster ride is America. It’s a ride that started up over two hundred years ago with the idea that it would be fun for everyone. But now, after two hundred years of dips and dives, spins and climbs, and twists and turns, this roller coaster called capitalism has gone out of control. More people are flying off than are staying on. Those staying on are staying on by the seat of their pants. There are just a few greedy people still calling for more speed and unbelievably, the people in charge, people like the kid who doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground, are going along.

They tell the people falling off that they’ll catch them. They tell the people who are getting sick and want to get off to just try and hang on a little longer. They tell the few who want to go faster that they think they can do it—can possibly go just a little bit faster for a little bit longer. They tell the people wanting to get on—as crazy as this sounds—to hold on to their tickets because America’s the greatest ride of all.

The truth is, no one knows how to stop a runaway roller coaster.

Everyone looks to the kid in the ball cap to do something but this kid in charge—and this kid isn’t the president or a senator or a congressmen or a business leader or a union leader or a taxpayer or a lobbyist or a millionaire or a billionaire or a welfare recipient but HE IS ALL THESE PEOPLE—this kid in charge doesn’t know what to do either. You can see it in his eyes, in all our eyes. We’ve been thinking about number one for so long that we’ve forgotten that the original plan was fun for everyone.

So how do you stop a runaway roller coaster?

Well, one way is to slam the brakes on. That’s the way they did it in the French Revolution, but a lot of people got hurt.

At the very least, we can’t let the radicals have their way anymore. On the roller coaster, the radicals are the ones screaming for more speed. In capitalism, the radicals are the rich screaming for more money.

Money is a medium of exchange and the more people that have money, the more people in the system. The more people in the system, the better the system. The better the system, the more fun for everyone.

Of course, perfect capitalism is an ideal, a fantasy. Like the perfect roller coaster ride, it doesn’t exist. But striving for perfection should be the goal. That goal should be having as large a fun loving, free spending middle class as possible. Sure there will be a few at the top that can’t get rich enough. And there will be those at the bottom who for one reason or another can’t seem to get a ticket to ride. But as long as the large middle class is making it and as long as those in charge are seeking to please the middle class, the ride will continue and be a good ride.

Like all CEO’s, Henry Ford wanted to make money but more than that he wanted the people to enjoy the ride.

He said, “The way to get a low cost product was to pay a high price for a high grade of human service and to see through management that you get that service.” His plan to make higher profits was to hire as many workers as he could and pay them as much as he could. His goal was a mass consumer market of well-paid workers who could and would buy his cars.

His idea for management was not to make a lot of money for those at the top—CEO’s, executives, and stockholders—but, rather, to make an affordable product. The product was always the key and layoffs were never the answer. He was so successful that a by-product of everyone owning a car was that the money kept rolling in. What a ride that was!

Henry Ford had a vision. CEO’s, today, have a scheme. Their scheme is to make as much money as possible as fast as possible in any way possible. They will sell their company, buy a company, consolidate several companies or split up a big company. Almost always workers will be sacrificed in the process. And after the CEO has made his money he will get the hell off that ride faster than a dollar can even begin to trickle down from Goldman Sacks to your neighborhood soup kitchen.

The key point to remember is this. When one car in the roller coaster derails, the others will follow. Sooner or later, everyone gets hurt.

Taking care of the poor is noble but it is not the answer for the long run. Not when the number of poor is increasing daily.

Taking care of the rich is pitiful, arrogant and shortsighted and also not the answer in the long run, although in the last few years everything seems to be geared to helping people who don’t need help.

The only answer is to take care of the middle class. That’s why the goddamn ride was set up in the first place.

Everything the government does, everything business does should be aimed at rebuilding the middle class. Increasing salaries for CEO’s, earnings for investors, and bonuses for speculators should never take precedent over a worker taking home a living wage. More consumers are always better than more money. Henry Ford would tell you that.

We have to stop listening to the loudest voices in the rich seats and start protecting the terrified riders in the middle.