The Bad Hair Day Blog gives the case for

More Americans have jobs today than at any other time in history

But the larger story of American job creation, and its causes, is even more impressive.

First, more Americans have jobs today than at any other time in history. Second, over the past two decades or so, the U.S. has created more than 40 million jobs--twice as many as Europe and Japan combined. And third, the U.S. has one of the lowest jobless rates of all developed nations.
. . .
Part of the explanation for this success is that, especially compared to Europe, the U.S. has imposed fewer taxes and regulations (even though we have plenty) that make it onerous for employers to hire and fire workers. A unique feature of the U.S. economy is that Americans move in and out of jobs--usually to rise up the income elevator--at a rapid and persistent pace. This is the key to the Great American Jobs Machine, and it explains why Europe and Japan should be more like us, and not the other way around.

There is much to welcome and little to fear in the economy's current progress.

While the Entangled thoughts blog presents data against

See if you can guess when G. W. Bushit became President.

I saw the Tony Blair news conference from the G8 Summit and was moved by his poise, mixed with the sense of loss and despair and hurt for his people. It was refreshing to see a politician talk in this way.

My prayers go out to the 40 dead, 700 injured, Great Britain, the Queen, and to the PM.

Regarding my Jessica Simpson dream that I talked about yesterday, I complained that my wife was not the reason for turning away Jessica Simpson. I was complaining to my subconscious, and how often does he listen to me? Never. I am never able to consciously make my subconcious do what I the ego want it to do. But last night I dreamed of my wife. Perhaps it was being away from home, the separation, whatever. But is was almost a duplicate of the Jessica Simpson dream. How about that?

Well, the alarm is going off, telling me to wrap up and go to work. Auf Wiedersehen.

I finally finished reading it last night. Of course, I knew how it would end because I had read it before. Binx marries Kate and finds salvation, of a sorts, from the malaise of the modern world, or the post-civil war South. Whatever. My first thought on finishing was what did Binx do with his life after this? The The Moviegoer ends when Binx is 30 years old. Did he live happily ever after, telling Kate what to do? I think not, but he did not fade into oblivion, or did he? Perhaps Percy tells us in his later books, but I do not have the inclination, just yet, to pursue it.

If I do, I can start with Lancelot. I have two copies, a first edition and a signed second edition. Too bad I didn't get a signed first edition. But as I was buying the copy of the first edition, my sister was getting me a signed copy. She lived near Covington, where Percy lived and his daughter had a book shop. Perhaps she still does. I will try to research it when I have time.

Now, the reading of The Moviegoer will be linked to the London bombings and the airplane ride to Houston. I learned about the bombings as I waited to board the plane, and then I read the part in the book about Binx and Kate's trip to Chicago. There are enough similarities to keep me going for hours, but let's say that they are linked together in my mind, in my experience.

And isn't personal experience what my blog is all about?

The Moviegoer is done, long live Eudora Welty, the next on my list of Southern readings.

It is before 6 AM and I find myself alone in a hotel room outside Houston. I am here on business, but I went to sleep early, which means I woke up early. So, here I am making an entry into my blog.

I had the television on "CSI" and left it on "Without a Trace" for background noise as I tried to finish reading The Moviegoer. As is the usual, I fell asleep, and awoke maybe 1.5 hours later to the hummingbird guy on "David Letterman". Maybe it was the twilight state I was in, but I have not laughed so much in a while. In the broadcast orginally shown on May 24, the hummingbird guy has on a helmet with 3 hummingbird feeders attached. He is attempting to attract hummingbirds, so he is sitting in the middle of the yard. The best part is when Dave is asking him something, and the hummingbird girl, seemingly still, moves his head enough to start the feeders to slightly, rhythmically oscillating. Of course, it cracked Letterman up. If you missed it you missed a classic.

I guess I could say this was a repetition for me. The other experience I had was not of laughter but of disorientation, when as a twenty-year-old I awoke to David Bowie singing "Space Oddity" on The Midnight Special. It was the first time I ever saw David Bowie, and he was made up as Ziggy Stardust. It took a minute to become re-oriented. At first, I wasn't sure that I was not in the middle of a nightmare.

So, Binx, what I have I done with my life in the intervening 30 years? I will try to answer that in my book report, since I finished reading The Moviegoer immediately after this, now that I was awake.

While on the hummingbird thread, one of my favorite songs is "Hummingbird" by Wilco. The lyrics act as a bridge between the hummingbird guy and The Moviegoer, just in case the Bowie-hummingbird guy repetition was not enough.

Wilco - Hummingbird Lyrics

His goal in life was to be an echo 
Riding alone, town after town, toll after toll 
A fixed bayonet through the great southwest to forget her 

She appears in his dreams 
But in his car and in his arms 
A dream can mean anything 
A cheap sunset on a television set can upset her 
But he never could 

Remember to remember me 
Standing still in your past 
Floating fast like a hummingbird 

His goal in life was to be an echo 
The type of sound that floats around and then back down 
Like a feather 
But in the deep chrome canyons of the loudest Manhattans 
No one could hear him 
Or anything 

So he slept on a mountain 
In a sleeping bag underneath the stars 
He would lie awake and count them 
And the gray fountain spray of the great Milky Way 
Would never let him 
Die alone 

Remember to remember me 
Standing still in your past 
Floating fast like a hummingbird 

Remember to remember me 
Standing still in your past 
Floating fast like a hummingbird 

A hummingbird 
A hummingbird

This may or may not be a thread. As I have defined it, I guess my thread is sort of like two concepts of the Moviegoer combined, a combination of a validation and a repetition. For those who have not read the book, I describe a repetition in http://marcopolo.blog.com/250708/. A validation is another Binx technique for fighting malaise. A validation is when one's neighborhood is seen in a movie, thus, it is somewhere. So, maybe my thread is looking for a common denominator in events and thus being validated. I'll have to give that some thought.

The Jessica Simpson thread started, literally, months ago, since she was in town filming an American classic, The Dukes of Hazard. Yes, right here in Baton Rouge. She went to many of my haunts, like Phil's and Walk-Ons. She was in the news. People were talking about her. More recently, though, my wife and I had gone to see Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and one of the trailers was for the Dukes. My wife told me that we would have to go see it, if not for its cinematic value, then to see if we could recognize the sights and faces of Baton Rouge. The second part of this recent thread happened night before last. My wife was surfing the channels and saw that Jessica and Nick had a special. I explained to wife who they were, and so we watched another show. Yesterday, a co-worker of mine said that he had watched the Jessica and Nick special, because he was unsure of what she sang or what it was she did. He commented that she sang okay, but her dancing evoked Elaine's dance from Seinfeld. So far, there is not enough to call this a thread. Where the unexpected, where is the lesson? Well, I had to go dream about her. And what a dream! She came on to me, a middle-aged man of average looks. And it gets better. I turned her away. In the dream she and my even older brother were together. I assured her that it was not my desire, but that I would do nothing to hurt my brother, that I would even die for him. Later, when I realized she was not with my brother, I did not try anything with her. Now, I have read Jung many years ago, and know that it truly was not Jessica Simpson, but my anima that I was speaking, acting toward. So, what does it say about me that I had to use my brother as an excuse? Why not my wife? She seemed not to be involved in the dream.

While I am writing about threads, I have had a few memorable ones. Maybe I will talk about them one day. Like the day my mother died. Like the one time I won a solitaire game that I have not won before or since, and the events surrounding the one-time event. Like the time my wife and I went to San Francisco and sat by people from Baton Rouge on the cable car. Eerie isn't it?