I checked my triond today for the first time in two days. How much had I made in that time? Why, the huge quantity of a single cent. Combined with previous five day total, that’s a whole two cents. Two cents from Triond given to me. So, I decided to give my two cents back to Triond. (That was cornier than central Iowa. I know.)

Firstly, I’d like to point out that although the U.S. economy is taking a nosedive, no one really changes. People’s circumstances change, sure. But the people? No, they stay somewhere near where they started in terms of capabilities and identity. Of course, for a upper-middle-class, white, suburban family, somewhere near means that they might have a little trouble paying their bills. For a working class, black or latino family living in the middle of a big city and fighting to stay out of foreclosure, somewhere near means that they still have the same name.

To the economists of the world, I offer an explanation for this interesting resiliency. Just like every single one of you has forecast the economy either looking up or rolling over and dying, I forecast your livelihood looking up while everyone else rolls over and dies.

Call me a pessimist, but if something big isn’t done soon, my two cents from Triond will become my food ration from Triond. Call me pushy, but people need to start looking around and realizing that if things keep going the way they’re going, my food ration from Triond will eventually become my family food ration from Triond.

We can’t let this happen. You can’t let this happen. I can’t let this happen. They can’t let this happen. We. Can’t. Let. This. Happen. And so the cynic gains ammunition. “If you’re just going to complain without giving a solution, all you’re doing is doubling the problem,” says Mr. C Nik. So I reply, “Why, my dearest Carlton, what I’m giving to you, other than my enjoyable company and scintillating wit, is a meta-solution. I say to you, Carlton Nik, how dare you call me a pessimist. I am a member of the world. I am a member of the global economy. I’m telling you, Carly ole boy, that it’s about time the U.N. had some power over the global economy.  It’s about time we started counting the time since the last time we had a recession. It’s about time we started solving our own problems.”

So poor Carlton, beaten down and discouraged by my ranting tirade, crawls home to his apartment littered with half-written books and tape-recorded tangents, casually downing some Jack Daniels along the way. He goes to sleep, unhappy and alone.

The next day he arises only to find that everything is exactly how he left it. Santa didn’t come in the night to drop a salary in his stocking. No, instead he finds a utility bill on his stoop that says that Mr. C Nik will be spending his winter in mittens.

So the next time you get a real paycheck from Triond, let’s say, more than two cents, take a chance on everyone else. Go out and use that money for things you need. Volunteer to help those who can’t even get what they afford. Lastly, and most of all, it’s about time you opened your eyes to the world around you. So maybe Carla in the office shot you down on your dinner invite. So maybe you didn’t get that payraise. So maybe it’s about time that we start watching our government, our officials, and our country, instead of letting them play banker with tax money and cops & robbers with the world. Maybe.