“Surely, you jest.” I’m not kidding around, and don’t call me Shirley. This thing is getting as serious as a heart attack. “Will all economy and coach passengers please put you head between your legs and brace for a recession. For those of you in first class, champagne will be served prior the main meal.”

Even as the dimmest bulbs in the box (main stream financial talking heads) begin to warm up for recessionary times, the markets suddenly seem to be immune from bad news. Just a few months ago, news that oil would hit $50 per barrel would send the markets into the dive mode. Today, at $80.00, no problem. Consumer confidence down; no problem. Industrial production down; no problem. Wait!…what’s that noise? Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s Super Ben Bernanke.

“Thank goodness you’ve come Ben, we were about to be in trouble,” cries Wall Street.
“Have no fear, great political contributors, Super Ben will lower rates, increase inflation…er, I mean liquidity, and save the day. Stocks will rebound and your bonus’s are safe once more.” “Yeah, Super Ben, Champion of the wealth…we mean, the down trodden.”

How many more Federal Reserve saves are left in the hat? I’ve seen giant roller coasters that were less exiting than the stock market ride. Speaking of rides, I think Middle Class America is taking a doozy. What say you?