Sander Levin ought to be considered the grand patriarch of Michigan politics.
It’s not just his age — 80. Nor is it that he has held public office for 47 years and run for governor twice, though those are contributing factors.
No, the main reason he receives — and deserves — such esteem is that he behaves like a statesman.
It is so rare these days.
Democrats in Congress supported tax relief for middle-class families in 2001 and our support remains steadfast today. Back then, our position was based on the understanding that the middle class forms the backbone of our economy and those families had seen an erosion of their economic security and were at risk of further decline.
In the mid-1980s, someone at the Coca-Cola Company had the bright idea of changing the formula of the nation’s most popular soft drink. In one of the biggest public relations debacles of all time, the company’s effort to convince Americans to switch to New Coke fell flat on its face. As it turned out, people liked the taste of Classic Coke just fine.
Jewish Theological Seminary honors power-brothers Sander and Carl Levin
With wit and a hint of sarcasm they banter back and forth and tease each other like any close brothers would. But Rep. Sander Levin, D-Mich., 78 and Sen. Carl Levin D-Mich., 75 also have a mutal respect and love for each other and for Judaism that’s palpable.
No one will say anything bad about the Levin brothers, and surely there must be bad. For the sake of balance, a proposition:
General Motors, Ford and Chrysler account for roughly 70 percent of
U.S. auto production and support 5 million jobs across all 50 states.
The U.S. auto industry represents almost 4 percent of U.S. gross
domestic product and 20 percent of all U.S. retail sales. The three
domestic automakers spend a combined $12 billion annually on research
and development.
A “For Sale” sign in
front of a house has usually symbolized transition: neighbors moving
on, new neighbors moving in.But a “For Sale” sign today is increasingly
not the hopeful symbol it once was.It might mean that a family can no
longer afford to stay in their home.The sign might stay up far longer
than it would have in the past, bringing anxiety to neighbors worried
about what the selling price will say about the value of their own
home.Or the worst may happen: There may not be a new neighbor at all,
while the home remains vacant and contributes to neighborhood blight.
Energy is the lifeblood of our economy. It powers our homes, industries, vehicles, and everything from the iPods in our pockets to the backyard grill. We need a balanced energy plan that plays to our nation’s – and Michigan’s – strengths.