Noted black commentator, Thomas Sowell said, “The real minimum wage is zero.”

He is right and the argument for raising it should instead be about its abolition. 

Wages are paid by business owners not government.  There is no constitutional basis for government arbitrarily setting wage levels.  This right was concocted because liberals detest capitalism, reject market forces determining equilibrium and believe government control is always the best option.  Experience shows us government interference is the worst solution, unless you believe the DMV, NSA or the IRS are good examples.

A minimum wage higher than market forces would naturally sustain is really a tax using other people’s monies.  Paid directly to the constituency that will vote for those socialist politicians who promise something for nothing, it buys incumbency.  The corresponding jump in income tax revenue provides the funding for more wealth redistribution.  Unions support such legislation because many of their agreements tie member wages to a percentage of the minimum wage, resulting in automatic increases to their contracts. 

Minimum wages are not sufficient to raise and support a family.  Responsible conduct delays starting a family until supporting one independently is possible via self-improvement.  Arbitrarily increasing the minimum wage gives tacit approval to acting foolishly and saps incentives to become better.  Raising wages without any increase in performance or expertise is the definition of something for nothing.

Improving value to an employer will improve wages as experience is gained.  Once one becomes more valuable, they can rightfully negotiate for higher wages.  If the current employer doesn’t see that value, then labor goes elsewhere.  That is how it works in a world that values hard work, self reliance and fairness.  The real issue is not the topic showcasing the agenda as advertised.  The minimum wage is most importantly about buying votes and almost as importantly, about attacking capitalism, business and success.  Wages are a cost of doing business.  As any expense, it gets passed on to the consumer creating inflation.  Only 1.2% of workers make minimum wage.

 This topic has gained traction because many American’s have lost their way.  The absence of civics training in our schools have left generations clueless as to how a representative republic functions under our constitution.  The rugged individualism of our founders has yielded to an entitlement mentality formed gradually and easily through an education system controlled by the liberal elite.  Add to this the ever expansive government machine creating a system of welfare so easily attainable that the choices between work and idleness become competing options with little difference in a modest lifestyle, usually augmented in the underground or criminal economies.

 Ironically, raising the minimum wage will contribute to our demise while we are being told how it will make us all better.  Saddled with a poor education and undeserved high self-esteem, rid of the concept of self-reliance, many will continue to climb aboard the government wagon while fewer and fewer are equipped and willing to pull it.

Binghamton and its relationship with hockey is legendary. Since the early 1970’s inaugural club, the Broome Dusters, this region has embraced and loved its hockey heritage, teams and players. Beginning with the now defunct North American Hockey League and evolving into today’s higher level American Hockey League, we have much to celebrate, reminisce about and look forward to.

While most hockey traditions at the Broome County Veterans Memorial Arena are laudable, one in particular is not, and sets a bad example for our kids.

When a game official makes a penalty call the crowd doesn’t like, the public address operator routinely plays a popular kids song called the “Chicken Dance”. Then, in unison voices of hundreds, sometimes thousands in unison sing to the changed lyrics, “Hey Ref You Suck.” echoing around the arena for all to hear.

Families and schools impress the importance of topics such as bullying and respect for authority and then take kids to a hockey game where they can witness thousands of people screaming out to those in authority, “Hey Ref You Suck.” Should anyone be shocked and surprised when our kids mimic our behavior?

The Arena should remove this song from their repertoire and the adults who have forged this sad tradition should be ashamed.

When players square off in the middle of the ice, circling each other while they throw off their gloves in order to fight and the officials back away, watching, while the game stops and the other players get into position for the best view, before that first punch is thrown, the crowd is cheering, on its feet, screaming wildly. Should we be surprised when young kids celebrate that behavior? When finally one of the players is thrown to the ice, a gigantic, collective cheer erupts as they two men are taken away to serve their outrageously severe penalties of perhaps as much as 5 entire minutes in the penalty box, reminiscent of a “time out” for misbehaving adults.

What would be a felony assault charge off the ice and outside of the arena is a reason to celebrate and high-five each other when inside. Should we wonder why our kids are conflicted? In school, kids are threatened with expulsion for pointing their fingers to simulate a gun, bullying or showing affection. Those same kids go to a hockey game and watch men hit each other with sticks, punch each other, slam each other into the boards or onto the ice while being applauded and gaining hero status for doing so.

The culture of hockey is not going to address the fighting issue anytime soon, but we, the fans in Binghamton, can stop using a kid’s innocent dance song as a platform to tell hockey officials that they suck and begin to set a little better example, not only for our kids but for ourselves.

Governor Cuomo was quoted recently as saying this about conservatives;

”Who are they? Right to life, pro-assault weapons, anti-gay – if that’s who they are they have no place in the State of New York because that’s not who New Yorkers are.”

I’ll forgive the governor for his pronoun confusion with the words “who” and “what” however, speaking for myself and the conservatives I know, we understand exactly “who” we are and we know precisely “what” Cuomo is; a virtueless opportunist, no pronoun confusion here.

Plato tells us there are three classes of men; lovers of wisdom, lovers of honor, and lovers of gain. Clearly Cuomo falls into the latter at the expense of the first two.

Cuomo’s impression of what New York State citizens should be, in his small mind, and what New Yorkers actually are, reflect two entirely opposing realities. Sadly, Cuomo’s influence and experience are limited to the five boroughs of New York City and the two counties of Long Island. While together they encompass less than 4% of the land mass of the state, nearly 60% of the state’s population resides there, mostly liberals.

Even in this turned-on-its-head world in which we live, I find it breath-taking that a sitting Governor has the temerity to say that if you believe in the sanctity of life you are ineligible to be a citizen of New York. If you adhere to a belief in the 2nd Amendment afforded to us by a strong US Constitution, you are unwelcomed as a New York citizen. Should your religious beliefs teach you that homosexual behavior is contrary to church doctrine and teaching, you are less than suitable for citizenry in the Empire State.

Mr. Cuomo is completely unsuitable to hold the office of “our” governorship. He is a servant to us, the people, yet he rules like an emperor, establishing tax-free zones and handing out taxpayer monies in a scheme and style not unlike other infamous tyrants throughout history, all drunk with the lust for power and control. Next on the agenda is legalizing marijuana and casino gambling, nicely illustrating Mr. Cuomo’s complete lack of virtue traded for a glutton’s appetite for tax revenue.

Cuomo was amazingly quick to the trigger when it came to meaningless, irresponsible and illegally legislated gun control, passed in the middle of the night, but cannot seem to find his tongue regarding fracking; not because he lacks information, but because he lacks personal integrity and character.

Those of us living in, working on and owning the other 96% of New York State that Mr. Cuomo knows little about are insulted by his glib and irresponsible comments and embarrassed by his actions as our governor. Mr. Cuomo has effectively insulated himself from scrutiny from the press, arranging carefully orchestrated events that allow him and him alone to frame the agenda. What a pathetic and sad example of a leader.

Publilius Syrus said, “He who has lost honor can lose nothing more.” I hope elections don’t count in that analysis because Mr. Cuomo is unfit for the office. He insults God-fearing, life protecting, Constitution loving New Yorkers at his own political peril.

This year marks the third time I have ridden my bicycle from Binghamton to Roscoe, NY. The first trip was in 1967. I was 14. The only way I could finagle permission was to coax my father into going. My dad, 40 at the time, seemed really old to my teenage eyes and while he did manage to complete the trip, it was just barely. Swollen, sunburned and sore, dad left it all out there on Route 17 without an ounce to spare. That 75 mile trip took us 12 long hours on our heavy, steel, three-speed bikes.

Thirty-nine years later, in 2006, my son and I took off for Roscoe on our bicycles. At 53, I was 13 years older than my dad when he made the ride, and I wanted to replicate that inaugural journey with my son. In eight hours we were in Roscoe and thanks to sun-screen, training and light-weight 20 speed bikes, we suffered no swelling, sunburn or soreness while shattering the original record time. It was a race against my dad.

On a bright Saturday early this fall, I set off for Roscoe on my bicycle once again, this time alone. At 9AM I snapped my shoes into my pedals, reset my bike computer to zero miles, zero hours, zero minutes and headed east towards Roscoe.

In 1967, Route 17 was brand new; looking like it was squeezed out of a tube onto the landscape. It was closed to traffic that summer, but that long brilliant ribbon of sparkling white concrete that slinked out of town, eastward into the Catskills was transformed that day into the world’s largest and widest bike path.

Not so this time. Grey, oil-stained and old, Route 17 is in desperate need of a make-over, her seams showing, complexion pock-marked, ribbon of white turned to a long, faded line of worn, dried out caulk. And I have outlasted her, I’ve beaten her, yet we share so much. I enjoyed her on opening day 46 years ago and last weekend I shattered my old record by better than an hour, in spite of her coarse broken pavement, patches, detours and grainy disposition, sizzling with traffic.

I turned 60 last April. It was the hardest birthday of my life and nothing to party about. There is no way around it, 60 is well past middle age, especially when you consider that not one man on my fathers side of the family has lived to see 80. AARP is hammering me with membership literature, banks want me to take out a reverse mortgage and info-mercials see me in a senior scooter wearing white, Velcro sneakers, and so I pedal.

I pedal to the loving memory of my father and the hopeful future of my son. I pedal to go faster and further every time I ride. I pedal to prove that I’m alive and that I will not be beaten. And now I pedal to thump the strongest opponent of all, Father Time.

“Crossing our fingers for 2020”, “So very close for 2016…”, “pretty close in 2012…”, “such an effort in 2008…”, “bad luck in 2004…..” Let’s get something straight.

Squash is not on the program of the Olympics today, largely because key people in the sport’s US leadership did not want it there 20 plus years ago.

First, a little background.

In 1988 I was hired as the Associate Director of the United States Squash Racquets Association, (USSRA.) My main goal was to pursue US Olympic Committee, (USOC) membership for the USSRA, (now US Squash.) Leadership in our organization was so convinced that our initial membership application would be rejected that I was sent alone, with less than 6 months on the job, to the USOC membership review meeting in Houston. When I left that meeting, having secured our membership in the first round, (something rarely accomplished), a very senior USOC staff member walked me out of the room, put his arm around my shoulder and whispered to me in a hallway crowded with other applicants, “Where in the hell have you people been?” From the beginning, it seems we were perceived as being very late to Olympic affiliation from those inside the USOC.

Over the next few years, we received monies and services from the USOC that funded elite coaching, elite training and allowed for the free use of the United States Olympic Training Center, (USOTC) in Colorado Springs where we sent coaches and players alike. We even held one of our Executive Committee meetings at the USOTC where then USOC Executive Director Harvey Schiller addressed our group and encouraged our quick ascent in the organization. The USOTC went so far as to offer us free office space to relocate our national headquarters onto the Colorado Springs campus.

I knew a political problem was brewing when the leadership of the USSRA refused that invitation and I began to realize that my plight, my mission might be a fool’s errand.

A short history lesson will be helpful.

In the late 1980’s, squash in the US was struggling to maintain two versions of the game; one that was played only in the states and the other, mainstream version played throughout the rest of the world. Many in US squash leadership were firmly ensconced in supporting, preserving and favoring the old and dying US-only version of the game. The fear was that “the great unwashed” as one of them put it, would take over the mainstream version of the sport and they would over-run and out number the traditional ivy league, prep school, blue-blood, country club types and replace them with public school, blue collar, beer drinking hooligans of unverified lineage.

The old-guard leadership sensed that they would not only lose their US-only version of the sport, but their control of it as well because Olympic participation would surely be played using the mainstream version of the game. Simultaneously, there was a large and vocal segment of the squash community that was demanding the switch to the rest-of-the-world version of the game and the leadership of US squash had to placate that growing voice. By dispatching one man to do what the entire organization should have been committed to doing, it created the illusion that US squash was forward thinking. That was not the case. Some in leadership positions hoped that by understaffing and under-committing to the Olympic effort, it would end in futility, frustration and failure, thereby preserving their hold on the US-only version of the sport. The old-guard of squash was counting on the failure of our efforts towards the Olympics. The problem was, nobody clued me and my small band of heretics into this plot and our efforts were making unprecedented progress on a very fast track.

From our initial membership with the USOC in 1988 until my departure in 1991, I spent most of my time on the road and had gathered a groundswell of support from the family of Olympic sports organizations. During this same time, many more of the “great unwashed”, had also entered the ranks of the US squash community, further rankling the squash elites. I attended USOC, International Olympic Committee, (IOC) and International Squash Rackets Federation, (ISRF) functions representing the interests of Olympic participation for squash. We formed the Associac’ion Pan Americana de Squash and began organizing international competitions throughout the Americas in support of the Pan American games having squash on their program. Unfortunately those interests were at odds with the old guard of US squash because we were, again, continuing to be unexpectedly successful.

In 1991, I met personally with then IOC President, Juan Antonio Samaranch at the Pan American games in Havana and he was extremely supportive. At last, all of the political, social, formal and informal relationships were in place for squash to be accepted into the inner circle of the Olympic movement. As Samaranch said, “The USOC is the flagship of all (national Olympic committees)”, and at that moment in time, we were very much in favor with the IOC and the USOC. However, the political power of an old guard of squash elitists spanning nearly 100 years out-ranked and out-weighed a naive group of pro-Olympic squash advocates with a single vision that blinded them to the political reality that was far stronger and more ruthless than imagined.

When I was handed my resignation, the reality and the magnitude of the level of resistance came clearly into focus. Shortly after my departure, other key players in the movement were summarily dismissed as well. Once that momentum, that intricate framework of personal, professional, probable and improbable relationships were left unattended, the situation would crumble and the winding road so painstakingly built would revert but to a faded path.

The conditions of that era are gone. The momentum and impact of a strong first impression has but a single shot. The opportunities we enjoyed in the 80’s and 90’s are not able to be recreated. The perfect storm for squash had, I fear, but one chance. The deal making and networking we plied and perfected to make our inroads are opportunities forever lost. Our efforts proved to be 20 some years too early. The elitist relics, born in the age of antiquity that controlled US squash in the late 80’s and into the 90’s could see clearly into the future, and what they saw was their relevance waning. I am saddened to say that we failed to have squash included into the family of contested sports in an Olympic program not because the game wasn’t worthy of such status, but because of a culture of small mindedness that would sink a sport in order to protect a pedigree.

Bob Kingsley is the former Associate Director of the USSRA, (now US Squash) from 1988 until 1991
© 2012 All Rights Reserved, Robert T. Kingsley