After all the buildup from the other day, everyone has no doubt been hanging out on my site, refreshing the page every five seconds, waiting for my next post. How do I know? Because I’m watching… always, thanks to Google Analytics and an abundance of free time. Think of me like Big Unemployed Brother, who, rumor has it, sleeps in his parents’ basement these days because he can no longer make rent. Big Mother likes having her boy around. Big Father wants BUB to get out of the spying business and go into sustainable energy. I also know you’re out there refreshing because this is what I do every Sunday during football season. I repeatedly refresh the box score for my fantasy football game to see if Larry Fitzgerald or LaDainian Tomlinson has another touchdown. It’s a way of life in the Internet Age. As of this moment, I’m winning, barely.

So, sorry to keep people waiting. Without further delay or digression, here is my entry for the America’s Next Great Pundit contest…

The words “jobless” and “recovery” are now inextricably linked. Because every ongoing current event requires a snappy name, economic cousins have become bedfellows. Forcing these words to coexist in Gosselin-like harmony – in print, online, over airwaves and in conversation – feels wrong.

A jobless recovery isn’t really a recovery. It’s a stock market rally, an uptick in economic activity or an improved economic indicator blown out of proportion. It’s also unemployment that numbers in the millions and a nation of employees scared for their jobs. “Recovery” suggests improvement. “Jobless” proves otherwise.

Economists first trotted out the term “jobless recovery” in the early 1990s to describe the new post-recession phenomenon of concurrent economic growth and high unemployment. Some experts blamed higher worker productivity born of increased automation. Others pointed to increased labor market slack, as workers switched jobs and industries. Whatever the cause, “jobless recovery” appeared again after this decade’s first recession, and once more earlier this year. The experts who failed to forecast the Great Recession needed a term to signal its end.

Conditions were right for “jobless recovery.” The economy was bottoming out, and everyone was scared. A pervasive need for good news – any good news – provided traction. Stories about unemployment’s slowing growth and stockbrokers turned ice cream men no longer cut it. Consumers needed something more positive to boost their confidence and open their wallets. Because without consumers, who provide 70% of our economy’s spending, actual recovery cannot occur.

But job creation remains non-existent; jobs are still disappearing. The national unemployment rate is approaching 10%. Add in underemployment and that figure is 17%. Include frustrated jobseekers (those who haven’t looked for work in a month), recently minted stay-at-home parents and new workforce arrivals who remain jobless, and that figure passes 20%. Companies, for their part, continue to cut pay and benefits rather than lay off still more employees.

This is the workforce that’s expected to spend money. But they’re not spending. Nor will they be for the foreseeable future. Just ask any retail outlet about its projections for the upcoming holiday season. Companies refilling their depleted inventories and the resulting excitement on Wall Street are driving the perceived recovery. It’s not real. And it won’t be until the public finds gainful employment and a renewed sense of security. The “jobless recovery” will continue. But only because it’s more palatable than “continuing recession.”

And this is why I should win, aside from my general, overall awesomeness…

I am a laid-off marketing professional and former freelance music writer, who has an opinion on everything. And I need a job. My current bout of unemployment is now pushing a year. In that time, I’ve improved my writing and job skills and submitted hundreds of applications. I document my unemployed life on the Jobless and Less blog (www.joblessandless.com) and keep up with the news in my now extensive free time. None of my hard work has paid off yet. Though my wallet (and my wife) tells me that needs to change. I can start right away.

Now back to your regularly scheduled life.

Entering a contest for a job… sound familiar?

I don’t wish I were a woman. Being a manly, guy-type creature of the male species works for me. It’s nice to have a built-in excuse for my noises, smells and propensity to stop channel surfing on any sports-related event. (I actually just watched a replay of an all-star high school football game while eating dinner.) The common drawbacks, such as body hair, male-patterned baldness and a complete lack of fashion sense, don’t bother me much. And the double standards tend to net out in my favor. So why complain? But on some days – like, say, any summer day in New York City when I have to go to work or a job interview – I’d rather wear women’s clothing. It’s just cooler.

Today’s weather wasn’t that bad for July; 78 degrees and sunny, with humidity thicker than Heidi Montag in math class, is practically Fall in this part of the world. We usually get temperatures 15 degrees higher to go with our atmospheric soup. But it also wasn’t suit weather. I had a job interview (yeah, me!), which meant putting on my finest (boo, me!) and hopping on the subway (again, boo, me!). The meeting seemed to go well, but my travels were less than pleasant.

A couple of my suits are dark and made of heavier fabric, perfect for all my Wall Street power lunches. A couple are light and made of lighter fabric, more suited for summer evenings sipping Mai Tais at the yacht club. Heavy or light, the bottom line is they’re all made of wool. And they’re all really, really, really, really hot. People keep telling me that wool breathes because it’s a natural fabric. It pants… maybe. Breathes… no. Wearing a wool suit in the summer is like wearing fiberglass insulation with slightly less itch. Would someone please bring back the Miami Vice look, and quick? I’ll happily embrace the feathered hair.

I opted for my favorite suit – a charcoal, pinstripe number made famous in a certain New York Times article – matched with a white button-down shirt and a blue tie. It may have been a tad conservative, though entirely appropriate for the occasion. This was a job interview, after all. I considered going with a blue-gray “summer-weight” number. But I opted to sweat out an extra half pound of water weight and not risk being under-dressed.

I managed to remain cool while waiting for and riding the 7 train. My station is above ground and attracts a nice breeze, and the train car was air-conditioned. The Grand Central station – where I transferred – was a little warm, though much more bearable than it will be as summer drags on. Subway stations are like oceans in that they maintain heat long after the weather changes. Some sort of giant fan thing circulated the air. That helped a little, until the cool-ish air mixed with the heat generated by other trains sitting in the station. I draped my jacket over my arm. Sweat began to form on my brow and drip down my shirt. My collar chafed my neck. That was the beginning of the end. I wiped myself off and boarded an uptown 4 express train for a little relief. Hopefully it would catch the uptown local 6 train I’d just missed.

The 86th St. station was much worse. I steamed for another ten minutes, until the 6 train came along to take me to 110th St. There I began walking and continued sweating. I arrived at the offices for my interview dripping. My shirt sleeves, where I’d draped my jacket, were soaked through and stuck to my arms. My hair was wet with sweat. My face was on fire from the razor burn. Oddly enough, my nerves were calm. I found a spot under a tree to cool off, without much success. Shade doesn’t relieve humidity.

But air conditioning does. A few minutes in the bathroom was enough to sponge off and become presentable. My suit jacket would cover my soaked shirt; I’d be fine as long as I kept it on. The interview seemed to go well from that point. The ride home was also infinitely more pleasant. I grabbed a downtown bus to avoid a sweaty backtrack, and transferred to a Queens-bound train at 59th St. without waiting. And then I was home, to bask in the coolness.

Today was sort of an extreme example. I don’t generally wear a suit in the summer, or at any time of year. But when working, I still have to wear slacks or khakis, a button down or polo shirt with an undershirt (can’t have those giant sweat marks) and shoes that cover my feet. Imagine how much more comfortable a breezy skirt and a light blouse would be. Maybe you don’t have to. Some sandals that let the air dance across my toes would be just divine. I’d happily paint my toenails if I could get away with flip-flops in a business environment. And what about capri pants? Aren’t these just shorts by another name? A friend from a previous job and I used to joke about wearing shorts to work and claiming they were capri pants. They’re becoming all the rage in urban areas, so maybe I’ll get my chance, under the guise of “fashion.” Until then, I’ll just have to deal with my sweaty manliness, all the while wishing I could just dress like a woman.

Relive the economy's crash on the big screen for only $10 ($78 in NYC)

I’ve heard for years that a Wall Street sequel is in the offing.  This is the first confirmed report I’ve seen…

Douglas, Stone head back to ‘Wall Street’

Why not? If the actual Wall Street can reprise their crimes against the public every decade or two, then Hollywood should be allowed to too. It’s just business, right? Nothing personal. To be fair, the original is a pretty good movie. It follows young stockbroker Bud Fox (Charlie Sheen) in his quest to get filthy, stinkin’ rich and maybe buy himself another syllable for his name. He falls in with his hero – corporate raider Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas) – and soon takes to insider trading to stay in his good graces. He gets rich and lands a hot blond chick (Darryl Hannah) with really bad taste for an interior designer, even in the 80s. They shack up and make pasta and eat sushi and get all lovey-dovey against the Manhattan skyline. And then s**t goes down. I won’t ruin the story, but the huge egos (and glasses – you can see into space with those things) are fun to watch.

The storyline for Wall Steet 2 is still a secret, though a studio executive assures us it will have something to do with current events. Thanks, that’s really helpful. Maybe you can help me with another question. Will baseball be played at the Mets game tonight? Or will the teams perform some sort of interpretive dance? Since the studio is being vague on the less-than-f**king-obvious details, I came up with my own story. Until I hear otherwise, I will assume it to be accurate.

The film opens with Gordon Gekko’s cronies bursting through my front door. He saunters in shortly after, careful not to get dust on his sport coat, designer jeans and Italian loafers. Corporate raiders have embraced business casual in the sequel. I’m sitting at the dining room table, and wifey at her desk. Gekko takes our wallets and checkbooks and then slaps each of us. He’s wearing shiny rings that leave a mark. Then he looks at our 401K statements and starts to laugh. The statements flutter to the floor in slow motion. On the way out he kicks each of our cats. The rest of the movie alternates between me looking for a job and wifey and me watching news stories about the government giving Gekko’s company billions in tax dollars. And here’s the twist: the movie doesn’t end… ever. Take that, Oscar.

I haven’t worked out the dialogue just yet; genius comes in stages. But the movie’s tagline will be, “Greed is good, having a bitch is better.” This won out over, “Every dream has a price, and that price is four.” The former just pops more. I expect all of you to visit your local theater on opening night. And bring lots of money for popcorn and jujubes, and a sleeping bag, because you’ll never leave.

And you thought insurance was boring...

It seems the country has gone and gotten itself all wound up about this whole AIG thing. Why do these greedy executives get huge bonuses – paid for by taxpayers – while everyone else is losing jobs, homes and retirement savings? Where’s my fair share, my big fat check? No, not the weekly unemployment check that doesn’t cover my expenses… the $2 million one rewarding me for driving a company into the ground. Give me some of that.

This was my initial reaction, having never worked for a Wall Street-related company or received a bonus with more than three digits. After some research and discussion, I’ve modified my opinion. That’s right, I jumped the fence on this bonus issue and now actually disagree with the populist, reactionist view that’s dominating headlines and inciting threats of violence. (Let’s put away the torches and pitchforks here, people.) The AIG employees should get to keep their bonuses and not be taxed at 90%. Then staff performance should be reviewed, as often occurs when one company takes over another. Those shown to be extraneous employees or poor performers should be let go. The federal government now owns 80% of the company, so AIG employees work for taxpayers now.

This firestorm of jealousy, hate and resentment over AIG bonuses shouldn’t even be happening. The $165 million in payouts ($17 million less than the Redskins signed their 3 free agents for) is small in scale and very much beside the point. Imagine arguing with your wife over a quarter when the bank is coming to foreclose on your house. Congress, the media and citizens everywhere have taken their collective eye off the ball. The president, for his part, would rather be solving problems, but is forced to do damage control. The country has much more important and threatening problems than what is essentially an overblown PR mess.

What are called bonuses at AIG and on Wall Street in general are really deferred compensation. These payouts can be based on company performance, but can also be built into employee contracts (which seems like the case at AIG). It’s part of the understood and agreed upon payment structure for the financial industry. The term “bonus” is a misnomer.

As we all know, 2008 was a bad year for the financial firms and the economy as a whole. Some companies failed and some – like AIG – were bailed out by the government. When an entity takes over a company, it inherits all of that company’s obligations, including compensation agreements with employees. Some have argued that without the government, AIG would have failed and bonus-collecting employees would have been SOL (S**t Out of Luck). This is very true; when companies go away, so too do payouts to employees. I know this scenario well. But because AIG survived – regardless of how – all of its obligations remain in effect. The company (and by extension, the government and the taxpayers) must pay up. That’s the law.

The AIG employees don’t deserve bonuses, but they should get them if that’s how their compensation has been structured. It’s a flawed system, one that needs to be changed. And the government has every right to change it going forward, but not backward. I’d rather endure this bit of unfairness and more than the dictates of an angry, reactionary mob and its elected officials.

A lawyer friend of mine who is closer to this issue weighed in with his opinion. I’ve included it in full below to add some more perspective…

First off, I can’t really speak as to AIG’s system of compensation, but regarding the banks, the term “bonus” is a bit of a misnomer. A “bonus” implies gravy on top of a base salary. But bankers’ base salaries are actually pretty low (relatively speaking), and “bonuses” make up the vast majority of their compensation. It’s not really a bonus, it’s more deferred compensation. Bankers may get a $100K-$150K base salary, and then a fat check for a few hundred grand at the end of the year. So that 90% tax is really killer.

But the main reason why I really hate the 90% tax (other than its dubious constitutionality) is that it’s probably the most reactionary piece of legislation I’ve seen in a long time. It’s based on pure emotion and the need for sh**head Americans to “punish” someone. I was explaining the situation to this guy when I was on vacation, and he asked me who he can blame. I’m serious. He literally asked me if he could blame Barney Frank or Jim Cramer.

I guess if you want to blame somebody, blame the federal government as a whole for their initial bungling when this crisis started. Maybe if the federal government held tighter restrictions on where TARP money went back in the fall, none of this bonus fiasco would have happened. Maybe if they hadn’t let Lehman fail, we wouldn’t be in the s**t that we’re in, because people’s confidence in the credit markets would have been at least partially re-established. Notice that the economy didn’t take a real dip until after last October, and economists have attributed at least a large part of the free fall to Lehman. I haven’t read the bill, but my question is, where does this end? What happens when the TARP funds do what they’re supposed to do, banks are super-profitable again, and everybody is getting nice big bonuses? Is the tax only this year, or is it going to continue in perpetuity? I tell you, if it’s the latter, it really has the potential to f**k New York City — enjoy plummeting real estate values, the erosion of the hospitality industry, etc. I’m dismayed that Charlie Rangel would be so stupid as to sign onto a bill that has the potential to adversely affect his constituents so much.

Are bonuses offensive and unfair and ugly and all that? Yes. Do those guys deserve the money? No. But they’re not the problem. The problem is opening up the credit markets, and the government is d**king around with retribution and blame when they could be fixing the economy.

Anyway, to get back to your original question, the government cannot and should not be in the position to invalidate private contracts. There are theories of contract law (i.e., the principles of equity) that may entitle the government to successfully challenge the employment contract, but it’s a real slippery slope that the government should not start to slide. The government holds an equity stake in the companies it provided funds — when was the last time you saw an individual stockholder successfully overturn a contract that was signed before the stockholder made its equity investment? (My answer: I don’t know, but Corporation Law 101 says that when an entity buys equity in a company, it assumes all of its debts and obligations).

So, this whole thing is an emotional reaction to a failure of oversight, and the need for opportunistic politicians to boast that they “took on Wall Street.”