We Really Don't Want a Dollar Coin. Really.

Once again, a move is afoot in congress to replace the classic American dollar bill with yet another dollar coin. Only this time, the plan is to discontinue producing bills, thereby forcing Americans to adopt something they haven't willingly embraced since the 1930s, when a real silver dollar could feed a family of eight for a decade.

The reason Americans haven't embraced a dollar coin is two-fold:
1. They really, really, REALLY don't want one
2. The United States really, really, REALLY can't make a good one.

Oh, the mint has tried several times. First, there was the Eisenhower dollar which debuted in 1971. While the reverse of this coin was striking (a replica of the Apollo 11 patch showing an eagle with an olive branch landing on the moon) Americans chose not to actually use it in daily transactions. Mainly because three of them weighed enough to pull your pants off. No one would accept them as change.

The 2.5 Pound Eisenhower Dollar

After this, someone had the bright idea of making a dollar coin that was nearly the exact same size, composition and shape as a quarter. Only they put a picture of Granny Clampett on the front. The Susan B. Anthony dollar was a disaster that lasted only three years (four, if you count a re-issue in 1999 because Las Vegas finally ran out of them 18 years after the last one was minted). They slowed down transactions because store clerks thought they were quarters, then realizing it wasn't George Washington on the front, could not be convinced that the United States of America would produce such an ugly piece of pot metal.

Granny Clampett

In 2000, congress once again authorized a dollar coin, and the mint gave us the Sacagawea dollar. The mandate from congress was that the coin had to depict a woman, and Sacagawea seemed to be the perfect choice for two reasons:

1. She was apolitical
2. No one has any earthly idea what she actually looked like.

There obviously aren't any pictures of Sacagawea, given that she died in 1812. There aren't even any drawings of her. All anyone knows is that she was Shashone. But having no visual representation of her in existence assured that the mint wouldn't make the same mistake of producing a coin that could make a watch stop. And they succeeded. The Sacagawea dollar is actually a very striking coin.

At first.

Theoretically, Sacagawea

You see, this time around, the mint chose to make the coin golden in color with a smooth edge (as opposed to the reeded edge on all other coins bigger than a nickel). Of course, they were beaten to this inspired design breakthrough by Chuck E. Cheese, America's lone connection to a smooth-edged, golden-toned piece of pot metal. The "Golden Dollar," as the Mint called it, had one disadvantage compared to Chuck E. Cheese tokens, however. While Chuck E. Cheese tokens stay golden into perpetuity, the "Golden" dollar only stayed "Golden" for about 15 minutes. Then it quickly tarnished into "Crap Colored." The unique "manganese bronze" alloy was a metallurgical breakthrough, but government scientists failed to take into account the presence of oxygen in the earth's atmosphere. This oversight meant the "Golden Dollar" was only "Golden" in theory. In reality, it looked diseased.

Still, the Mint thought they had a winner on their hands and decided to promote the heck out of the coin with a marketing campaign that basically wiped out any savings realized over producing paper dollars. Believing that if Americans knew it was a real dollar and that vending machines accepted it, they were convinced that we'd abandon our greenbacks forever and embrace the new coin like it was truly made of gold.

What they failed to realize, however, is that Americans really, really, REALLY don't want a dollar coin. We really don't. So we didn't use it. At all.

But then, congress had an even better idea. Fresh off the financial windfall of the 50 state quarters program, they decided to create the Presidential Dollar Coin program. The thinking was that Americans loved commemorative coin programs, and because of this, we'd fully embrace a dollar coin if, just like the quarters program, five new ones were introduced every year. The logic was flawless: if American's don't want A dollar coin, that must mean they want 44 of them!

Chuck E. Jefferson

To add to this stoke of genius, they also decided to make the new coin look absolutely nothing like a coin. They moved the date, motto and "In God We Trust" to the EDGE of the coin, traded traditional presidential profiles for a straight-on full-face pose and completely confused the American public as to what exactly this new Crap Colored piece of pot metal was. To date, there's absolutely no evidence that one of the hundreds of millions of Presidential dollars minted has ever been used in an American financial transaction. Even President Obama, who literally has found absolutely nothing he won't waste someone else's money on, looked at this colossal failure of a program and decided to cut it short.

But now the Senate has an even better idea: force a dollar coin down our throats.

A bevy of senators have introduced legislation to replace the dollar bill with a dollar coin. The reason, they say, is that replacing a short-lived paper dollar with a long-lasting pot metal coin will save BILLIONS of dollars. There are two flaws with this thinking:

1. No it won't
2. We really, really, REALLY don't want a dollar coin, don't you get it, why don't you freaking get it.

To the first point, no government number is ever reliable because frankly, they don't know what the hell they're doing. Look at any cost/savings projection throughout American history. Every single one of them was wrong. By a lot. Squared.

But, OK, just for argument's sake, let's say that for the first time in our 236 year history, congress has actually gotten a financial projection correct. WE'RE $15 TRILLION IN DEBT. Those billions of dollars in savings will have been wiped out before you finish reading this sentence. To position this idea as a serious attempt to wrangle the debt is like throwing a brick in the air and saying you're making a serious attempt to reach earth's orbit.

To the second point, imagine this. Instead of getting four one dollar bills and two quarters in change, you get four one dollar coins and two quarters in change. For the rest of the day, your pants jingle like Santa's sleigh streaking through the midnight sky.

We prefer dollar bills because they're light, easy to carry and for the most part, are accepted by nearly every vending machine. Even taped, faded, wrinkly dollar bills work in machines these days. Plus, everyone recognizes a dollar bill, everyone accepts a dollar bill. Everyone PREFERS a dollar bill. Imagine a church usher trying to hold a basket weighed down with dollar coins. On the opposite end of the spectrum, imagine pole dancers. Where on earth are they going to...

You know what? I don't want to know the answer to that.

Here's an idea that would solve everyone's problem: MAKE A STRONGER DOLLAR BILL. Use Tyvek or some other indestructible fabric like burlap. Politicians will get at least a portion of their mythical savings. We'll get our lightweight paper dollar. And we won't be forced to use something against our collective will, like low-flush toilets or curly light bulbs or...

Ah. Come to think of it, force might be the biggest draw for politicians on this one.

George is doomed.

Team Spirit?

There’s a clear message staring terrorists in the face these days, and it’s prominently displayed on the chests of TSA agents nationwide. Or at least in Charlotte and Pittsburgh. It’s a list of three values that stand as a promise to terrorists that they can’t possibly succeed in their nefarious plans.

Those values, stitched in bright lettering, are Integrity, Innovation and … um… Team Spirit?

Yes, Team Spirit.

 

I did a double take after reading the patch, because I felt for sure that no adult charged with thwarting terrorism would be wearing the words “Team Spirit” on their official uniform. Actually, the only place I’d expect to see “Team Spirit” on a grown-up’s outerwear at all would be at a drug counselor’s group picnic. But there it was, written in bold, beautiful thread.

Somewhere in Washington, DC, there’s a committee that is insufferably proud of itself for having come up with that. That committee is a greater threat to the future of civilization than all of our enemies combined. And I have definitive proof of that. Know what it is? They put the words “Team Spirit” on the uniforms of security forces charged with thwarting terrorism.

Honestly, if I’m a TSA agent, and someone hands me a uniform with a patch that says “Team Spirit” on it, that person is tasered on the spot and wakes up asking the question, “What the hell am I doing in Gitmo?”

What must the terrorists be thinking when they read those words?

Integrity: “Crap. We can’t bribe them.”
Innovation: “Crap. That could be problematical.”
Team Spirit: “OMG!!! Zac Efron’s here?!?”

The only time you see “Team Spirit” on a patch is when the 7th place cheerleading squad goes to the podium to get their award. You never see it again because they all throw their patches out once they get home. Yet here are the men and women on the front line of domestic anti-terrorism, being forced to flash this Disney-esque platitude. “Team Spirit” doesn’t covey dedication and determination to stop our potential murderers. It suggests that there’s an elaborate plan in the works that will bring together the cool kids and the geeky kids to trap Al Qaeda in a dumpster using a Bunsen burner, shoulder pads and a banana.

Maybe the world’s most dangerous committee was going for the element of surprise. “Team Spirit” is something you’d expect at Chuck E. Cheese.  Its presence at the metal detectors of major airports is so astonishing that it could throw terrorists off their game.

“OK brothers, our holy act of vengeance is a go. We will be martyrs for the… whoa. Wait a sec. Team Spirit?!? What the… what’s… ABORT! ABORT!”

There are myriad other words or terms that would be more impressive than “Team Spirit.”

Vigilance.

Resolve.

Gang Tackling.

Brass Knuckles.

A Stick With A Nail In It.

I could even see “Teamwork.” It’s a little flaccid, but at least it suggests working together to thwart danger. “Team Spirit” suggests a group hug by the bonfire.

Come to think of it, that’s probably how the world’s most dangerous committee came up with it.

Ask Your Doctor About BUH-buh-buh.

From ED drugs to blood thinners, a clear trend has emerged in the global pharmaceutical industry: the rise of the three-syllable brand-name prescription. Turn on your TV and you’re bombarded with advertising for Viagra, Ambien, Uloric, Lipitor, Celebrex, Nexium and a thousand other BUH-buh-buh (or buh-BUH-buh in the case of Uloric) drugs designed to fix whatever ails you.

Clearly, a three-syllable name indicates cutting-edge, can’t miss medicine. You know your doctor is giving you the very best when he prescribes BUH-buh-buh. It tells you that the doctor thinks, 1) you can survive this medical ordeal and, 2) your insurance will cover it.

A two syllable prescription, on the other hand, means that your doctor is basically writing you off as a lost cause and is pretty much trying to just keep you comfortable and out of his hair while he doles out BUH-buh-buh to his patients with a fighting chance. On the bright side, BUH-buh usually only costs $4 at Wal-Mart.

Recently, my eldest daughter was diagnosed with pneumonia. We were pretty worried until her doctor prescribed not one but two BUH-buh-buhs, Pulmicort and Zithromax.

“Look — they have three syllables! You’re gonna live, honey! You’re gonna live!”

Good thing, too. Because if that scrip had said Trimox and Flovent, things would have gotten ugly in the doctor’s office.

“Listen you son of a bitch, that’s my daughter in there. Now you write her a three-syllable prescription right now! YOU HEAR ME!!!”

The three-syllable prescription phenomenon is actually a godsend to the general public. Since most of us have no idea how a toaster works much less a complex chemical compound like a basal-thingy something inhibitor, it clearly lets us know which of competing pharmaceuticals we should demand.  

Blood thinners? Coumadin: good. Plavix: bad.

Cholesterol meds? Lipitor: good. Zocor: bad.

Antidepressants? Celexa: good. Prozac: bad.

Of course, the ads for these meds generally feature 90 minutes of disclaimer, ranging from loss of appetite to sudden detonation, but you can pretty much ignore those. Every clinical trial involves a handful of weaklings who have adverse reactions that must be reported. But let’s be honest. Those people would never be prescribed BUH-buh-buh in the real world. The doctor would take one look at them and hand them a free sample cask of BUH-buh.

Of course, every once in a while you’ll see an ad for a four-syllable prescription. Ignore those. A four-syllable prescription is likely a placebo. Either that or it’s so highly experimental, they can’t figure out how to keep it from killing half the monkeys in the lab. Never, ever take a four-syllable drug.

Always demand three.