The stock market – that supposed great predictor of our economic futures – continues to rise and I wish I could assume it meant good times ahead. Not only am I made nervous by the words of Rupert Murdoch, I am haunted by my reading of Amity Shlaes’ The Forgotten Man: A New History of the Great Depression, a book I seem not to be able to get out of my head. There were many stock markets spikes during the 1930s, Shales reminds us, but the economy itself never pulled itself out the mega-doldrums. Finally, the big crash came in 1937, eight years after the crash they told us brought about the Great Depression. Only WWII lifted us out of it. So I’m not resting easy with the temporary minor rise in my retirement portfolio as I watch Obama continue to spend money at rates unimagined by any of us. I keep wondering when to cash out – but then what will the cash be worth.
Oh, well, perhaps I’ll buy an iPhone 3GS in a couple of weeks, to distract myself from reality for a couple of hundred bucks. Evidently, they have a program in them that automatically reorients your map when lost – a good thing to have in the bleak future.