All Posts in "Everything Else"

When you hear that there are people in the 35 percent tax bracket, you may wonder what it means. It means their annual (adjusted) gross income is $200,000 for individuals or $250,000 for couples.

For those who make a gift to a favorite charity, the 35 percent bracket also means that for every $100 they give, their taxes will be reduced by $35.
Faced with serious deficits, Congress is weighing a proposal that would cap that tax credit at $28 per $100 for wealthy individuals. There is plenty of debate about how this would affect charitable giving.

If Congress approves the cap, the Center for Philanthropy at Indiana University says it might reduce giving by 2.3 percent over the next two years. That would mean charities across the nation will receive $3-5 billion less.This concerns all nonprofit.

They worry that they will have to cut local programs succh as provide job training, home care for the elderly, or health care for the uninsured. With more than 46 million Americans living in poverty, and many federal programs also facing budget cuts, that cost-benefit seems out of whack to most non-profit leaders.

Tax brackets aside, most Americans give to charities for other reasons. It is deep in our culture, a tradition born deep in our history. When he traveled here in 1831, the French philosopher Alexis de Tocqueville noticed something remarkable. Americans, he said, never turn their backs on a neighbor in need. He saw people helping each other recover from floods, fires and other disasters.

Since Tocqueville’s visit, Americans have become more artful in the way they give. Today, many donors—even those not in the 35 percent bracket—aim their gifts at specific needs, and most nonprofits, from food banks to museums to job training programs, will welcome your questions about that idea.

Mike Robinson is Senior Vice President for Planned Giving at United Way of Pierce County. Please consult a qualified tax attorney before making a charitable gift.

Contributing Author by — November 23, 2011 in Everything Else
Jane and Gustave

When flying was new and exciting, any time it attracted the attention of a comely young woman, the information nearly always made the newspapers. In 1915, that woman was Emil Rorke an actress/celebrity adventuress from Los Angeles.  Emil, who went by the name of Jane O’Roark, took fame anyway she could find it. Leaving a pending bankruptcy behind, she set off to look for opportunities elsewhere; and elsewhere turned out to be Tacoma. She signed a contract with Charles Richards to act at Tacoma’s Empress Theater in a play called “Help Wanted” and, as luck would have it, made the acquaintance of a “big, adventuresome Scandinavian airplane pilot named Gustave Stromer” according to a Tacoma News Tribune article by Murray C. Morgan.

Jane told Gustave that she’d taken flying lessons and wanted to be an aviatrix, and Gustave made her an offer the publicity seeker couldn’t refuse: the chance to be the first woman to look down on Tacoma from the air. Her boss, Mr. Richards, objected because the day of the proposed flight was on the 13th  but Jane said she wasn’t afraid of heights or days with unlucky numbers.

On the morning in question, the Tacoma Motor Company loaned Jane a Maxwell racing car. As she roared into town, Richards ran after her with a legal document to stop her from going on the flight. When he thrust it into her hands, she looked at it and tore it up saying, “I’m sorry but this morning I cannot read.” Then she tossed the scraps of papers in the air. Richards immediately jumped on the running board of the car and tried to stop it. From here, stories differ: he either fell off, or rode “across the 11th Street Bridge to the tideflats, sprawled sidesaddle on the hood,” Murray wrote in that same article.

In the meantime, Gustave had flown in from Day Island and was waiting for Jane at the Middle Waterway. His hydro-airplane was moored to a log. Gustave wore a leather jacket and helmet, and Jane a red sweater and wool cap. They boarded, the plane taxied down the waterway for approximately one hundred yards, and then began to climb until the plane reached eight hundred feet. Gustave turned toward Browns Point, circled back along the eastside of the bay, flew over the Perkins Building, and followed 11th Street to CPS (now UPS) Jason Lee Junior High’s current location. Then he leveled off and the two returned to the tideflats, and landed.

After that successful flight they came up with the idea of making Puget Sound’s first airmail delivery. Frank Stocking, Tacoma’s postmaster, gave them the authorization to fly a packet of mail to Seattle.

Generally, on sanctioned pioneering flights, the pilot was formally sworn in, and designated an official mail carrier, but on this one particular flight, that honor went to Miss O’Roark. Forty-five pieces of mail received a 10:00 a.m. Tacoma-Panama-Pacific postage machine cancel. The majority of items were postal cards, but the mail pouch also included at least two special delivery letters. Mr. Stocking wrote to his counterpart in Seattle, and Tacoma’s Mayor Angelo Fawcett did the same.

Jack Haswell, who had provided the Maxwell Jane used previously, said that if Auburn, Kent, and Renton authorities would give him permission to speed through their towns, he’d try to beat the flight driving another Maxwell, one that was identical to that driven by famed racecar driver Eddie Rickenbacker.

On February 20, 1915, Jane drove to City Hall and picked up the mayor’s letter. From there she went to the post office and picked up the postmaster’s letter, and a bag of from fifty to one hundred pieces of mail which would have ordinarily gone north by boat. Each was additionally cancelled with a handwritten postmark reading Aeromail to Seattle.

Once again Gustave flew in from Day Island and picked Jane up at the Middle Waterway. At 10:00 a.m. Jack took off down Pacific Avenue in the Maxwell, and Jane and Gustave, in the plane, followed the route the mail boat took.

Gustave had planned to land in Elliott Bay, but a ship was pulling out when he arrived and it kicked up heavy waves. Forced to wait for the water to calm down, he circled around, then tried again, and was able to land successfully. Unfortunately, the waves hadn’t sufficiently subsided, and water washed over Jane and Gustave, and killed the engine. They floated for fifteen minutes until someone rowed out and took Jane to Pier One. She hitched a ride to town, only to find that the mayor was out; his secretary signed for Mayor Fawcett’s letter.

Gustave’s flight was estimated to be twenty-seven minutes, and Jack’s driving time forty-six minutes. The mail boat’s normal time isn’t known. Jane and Jack drove back to Tacoma together and she arrived in time to play her two parts in “Help Wanted.”

Gustave had plans to make daily flights to Seattle but they never materialized, nor did his idea to form a National Guard air squadron. In 1917, he moved to Oregon and began manufacturing boxes.

Jane finished her season at the Empress, returned to her bankruptcy proceedings in California, and was last heard of at the Bishop Theater in Oakland California in 1917 in a play called “A Fool There Was.”

Karla Stover by — November 23, 2011 in Everything Else

Although the Grand Cinema had had loyal patrons and volunteers, it was on the brink of financial disaster.  It was in April 1997, when, after considerable work by a core group, the Grand Cinema was declared to be a not-for-profit entity.  Since that time, it has become a community treasure and a resounding success.

When I spoke with Executive Director, Philip Cowan, he said that volunteers have been an integral part of the Grand’s success.  It was volunteers that initially converted the Grand to its present 501(c)3 status.  In the process, volunteers became board members and established the structure for operation within the new status.  Volunteers assure that the Grand is open every day of the year, working three-hour shifts, selling and collecting tickets, selling popcorn and helping guests with any special needs.  The volunteer corps is a reflection of the Grand’s community appeal, for it’s comprised of a wide range of ages, from teens to octogenarians.

Cowan, who came to the Grand via a five-year stint working for the Rainiers, holds degrees in finance and international business.  He has had a life-long interest in films, “especially the ones that make you think afterwards.” So, as the person who selects all the films the Grand shows, Cowan is guided not by the moneymaking aspect of any given film.  Consequently, the Grand has become an art house, which means that both domestic and foreign films are chosen for quality rather than profit, and a weeklong film festival has become an annual event.

Being a committee of one for film selection, Cowan reads all the trade journals and magazines, scans various Internet sites to see how films have been rated, and watches a trailer or two.  (A trailer is a small portion of a film that is shown as an enticement to watch the whole thing.) In addition, he attends film festivals such as Sundance, and views films that have been recommended to him.  This is not your average 40-hour-a-week job, but, Cowan says unabashedly that he loves his work.

Cowan speaks very highly of his staff, especially their flexibility in filling in on a job and their creativity in getting their jobs done.  They are guided by the three tenants outlined in their mission:  educate the viewing public regarding film; make the viewing experience a quality one; encourage the development of a passion for film as an art form.

Under the guidance of Cowan and the board, the Grand is always open to new ideas or a fresh approach to an old one.  Often implementing these ideas requires a partnership.  Farrelli’s Pizza and the Grand Cinema have partnered for what is called DATE NIGHT which includes pizza, wine, dessert and two tickets to the Grand.  Film lectures, a Q&A session over Skype with a director and a community round table on current issues are among the special events.  A relatively new addition is the one-day showing of new or classic films every Tuesday of the year.  On Tuesdays, the matinee is usually mid-afternoon and the second showing is early evening.  And that will be the only day/date that the chosen film will be shown. Thus, in addition to the regular program of films, Cowan can insert an additional 52 films each year.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the fact that you can become a member of the Grand Cinema.  The idea of receiving $1.50 discount on all movies when you present your membership card sounds good, and it is hospitable to also receive a free, small popcorn, but the benefit that really caught my attention is free parking.  Yes!  Through partnership with Pierce County Alliance, free parking for members is available in a lot just a block from the theater.   It should be noted that you can also buy “movie money” in $5 increments which can be used for anything at the Grand.

To learn more, visit the Grand’s website www.grandcinema.com for show times, trailers, and special events. The Grand Cinema is at 606 Fawcett Avenue, Tacoma, WA 98402-2321, (253) 593-4474.

Maggie Kelly by — November 23, 2011 in Everything Else

By Sally O’Kane McClintock

“Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly, lavender’s green, when I am king, dilly dilly, you shall be queen.”

Singing my song, I picked a handful of lavender that was overflowing onto the sidewalk by the picket fence a block from my home. “Call up your men, dilly dilly, fetch them from work,” I continued.

I was so immersed in the lavender that I failed to notice a van pulling up in the driveway.

“Would you like me to get you some scissors?” I looked up to see a man calling from the van. “It would make it a lot easier,” he added.

“Oh no, thank you,” I said hastily, leaving in embarrassment.  I couldn’t tell whether he was being helpful or sarcastic. His tone of voice suggested the latter.

He owned the lavender, but the lavish rows spreading into the sidewalk surely invited picking. I felt uncomfortable as I hurried home with my bouquet. The flowers were planted there for passersby to enjoy and admire, I reflected, but it was not proper to pick them without permission.  But the sun and rain we all share had helped the garden grow.

Owning and sharing can be confusing at times.  I have always felt my clothesline is my own special territory, whether in a backyard, a rooftop, or up above a brook. When I hang out my laundry, wherever it is, I am in my own private space, harnessing the sun and the wind.  Rarely has this space of mine been “invaded.” But once on a camping trip where I attached a clothesline from tree to tree near our campsite, I recall how annoyed I was to find a neighboring camper’s laundry hanging on my line. I owned the clothesline, but couldn’t I willingly share the wind and the sun?

Can you own a place at the table? Some people think so. My father told me that when he moved alone to San Francisco, he went to a church dinner “for some socializing,” as he put it.  But when he brought his plate to a table, instead of being welcomed, he was told, “This seat’s taken.” At table after table, he received the same greeting until finally he found an unclaimed seat in a corner. A sort of musical chairs without the music. So much for hospitality.  But it didn’t seem to bother him. He even found this amusing, at least in the telling.

Contrary to my father’s attitude when denied a seat at the table, I couldn’t find the humor when it happened to me.   The afternoon had begun in a pleasant way. With extra time before my meeting, I stopped to rest at a nearby park, enjoying the colorful fall leaves. I sat at a picnic table and took out my lunch.  Some pigeons alighted casually nearby, keeping a polite distance while I ate my sandwich. When I left, I scattered some crumbs for them.

I was still early for the meeting when I arrived.  Usually I came when  people were already assembled around the table. This time it seemed no one was there yet. The large table was empty, no  notebooks or purses claiming places.  I chose a chair near the speaker, put down my bag and notebooks, and hung my coat on the back of the chair.  I settled in to wait for the others.

“You’re sitting in my chair,” said a member just  entering the room. Surprised, I got up and slid my notebooks and bag across the table to another empty spot while she returned to the other room.

I settled into the second chair, but then another member of the group walked in. “Why are you sitting in my chair?” Apparently I had taken her place too.  I got up and looked around for another seat. The woman next to me kindly offered her chair and took a folding chair for herself.

I looked at the group for sympathy or even  some humor.  But no one had seen how I had to move out of my seat two times in a row.  Feeling sorry for myself, I tucked away the experience for the time being.  But when I went to bed that night, I dwelled on the incident, puzzling over my sensitivity. I was sure they were unaware of my hurt feelings, so why did this bother me so much? Couldn’t I just laugh it off? Or tell them how I felt?  Instead, from then on I approached the meeting table more carefully, not unlike the cautious pigeons.

One evening when I was reading “Time and Myth” by John S. Dunne, I found solace in a philosophy that also excited me.  He wrote that one could choose to look at life either as a journey of experience, or as a series of discoveries. He quoted Hegel, the philosopher, who said that for him personally, the journey was “a voyage of discovery.”

With this view,  I decided to stop feeling sorry about my experience, and instead look for the discoveries in my life.  It’s true that I  had to give up my seats twice, and no one noticed.  But since that happened, I have made the discovery of the importance of one’s place at the table. And when I found someone else’s laundry hanging on my clothesline and I resented it so,  I am now aware of my possessiveness.  Finally, in picking someone else’s lavender without permission, I realize how casual I can be about what belongs to someone else.

Now I’m ready for more new discoveries in my life, whether negative or positive.  They will all be part of my voyage.

Contributing Author by — November 23, 2011 in Everything Else