As he nears the end of the line for his Man in a Van Project, Aaron Heideman of Grants Pass, Ore. has only begun to process the stories he gleaned from his cross-country recession odyssey. After losing jobs himself due to the sour economy-not once, but twice-the 29-year-old set out to chronicle the tales of people whose lives have been affected by the Great Recession. From Florida to California and many points in between, people scrawled their stories onto a large roll of Tyvek paper. Some even scrawled notes and missives on the van itself, turning it into a rolling chronicle of continued economic woe, and the hope that survives amidst it.

In an exclusive interview with WalletPop, Heideman discussed the project, what it's meant to him and what comes next for a young man who, for now, still lives in his orange Dodge van, hoping to land permanent employment soon.

Call it the E = MC squareoff.

Bolstered by its successful anti-screen media campaign that led Baby Einstein to offer a refund for its kid videos, leaders at a Boston-Based non-profit are weighing whether to fight on -- and demand that Walt Disney Company drop "Einstein" from the name altogether, WalletPop has learned in an exclusive.

"We absolutely think they should change the name, but we haven't decided yet what we're going to do with our campaign," says Josh Golin, associate director of Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood (CCFC). "We also think that Hebrew University, which licenses the rights to the Einstein name, should reconsider what kind of product they want his name associated with."

At issue for CCFC is whether it thinks continued use of "Einstein" in the megabrand's moniker constitutes a continuing claim of educational value in the videos, targeted largely at kids aged five and under. While "pleased" with Disney's offer to refund $15.99 each for up to four Baby Einstein videos, Golin says he'll watch the campaign closely "to see how things play out."

A recently closed pizza place just a lonnnng dough toss from my home on Chicago's North Side bragged that it served "the best pizza on Earth." And a Mexican joint not far from there advertises "burritos as big as your head."

In both cases, I chalk it up to hyperbole: I'm sure the owners of Katacomb never won a smackdown against any Roman pizzeria. Nor will a lawsuit force La Bamba to correct its slogan to read, "Burritos as big as a rhesus monkey's head."

So sloganeering represents nothing new, though the fine line between bragging and outright lies can prove a tricky, treacherous balance -- especially where our kids are concerned. Now it comes as no shock to me that Baby Einstein has admitted that it won't make my kid into Albert Einstein, Albert Schweitzer or even Al Franken. Truth be told, never did I expect to stick my kid in front of the vids, leave him in the cathode-ray oven for a few hours, then have him emerge as one smart cookie.

But here's what I do find disturbing, and why I suggest you put in for the $16-per-video refund (limit four) if you bought between June 5, 2005 and Sept. 4, 2009. The name "Baby Einstein" (concocted by creator-mom Julie Aigner-Clark at her home in Alpharetta, Ga. in 1997) implies an undeniable connection between the product and some sort of brain development Junior would enjoy from watching it.

And according to a New York Times piece, the videos could have the exact opposite effect on kids under two. The Times quotes a letter from lawyers for the Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood: "The Walt Disney Company's entire Baby Einstein marketing regime is based on express and implied claims that their videos are educational and beneficial for early childhood development. [Those claims are] false because research shows that television viewing is potentially harmful for very young children."

Ugh. I have to lie enough to my kids, what with the Easter Bunny, Santa and all that. Now Mickey Mouse is lying to them, too. (Disney bought Baby Einstein in 2001, and created a spinoff for older kids, "Little Einsteins.")

Several weeks ago, WalletPop tracked down pop-culture personality Sharona Alperin, the namesake of The Knack's smash hit "My Sharona." She's now in celebrity real estate, and was gracious enough to tell us about the decided downs in that market, all while reminiscing on the 30th anniversary of her song hitting No. 1 on the Billboard charts.

Thanks to Sharona, WalletPop landed an interview with Doug Fieger, the founder of The Knack and co-writer of that song. Among other things, we wanted to know how a timeless hit changes a musician's bottom line. To find out, and learn what Doug has been up to since his power-pop masterpiece "Get The Knack" ruled the Summer of 1979, read on ... and if you like, imagine that slammin' "Sharona" drumbeat in your head.

WalletPop: Thirty years after it hit No. 1, "Get the Knack" still sounds as fresh as the time you recorded it. It's aged much better than other records of that era. Why do you think so?

Fieger: I believe that our recordings are timeless. They don't have any schmaz that makes them sound dated. "Get the Knack" could've certainly been recorded last year. We recorded "My Sharona" and "Good Girls Don't" [another hit] in one day, in one take, with a live lead vocal. We went from beginning to end of the song, and that was it. [Guitarist] Berton Averre and I put in the background vocals, and it was mixed in about 15 minutes total. The whole album took 11 days to record and two days to mix.

Back in January 2009, the Chicago Tribune asked me to have my family finances revamped by a series of experts. The exercise proved challenging, to say the least: Baring your financial foibles to the world is like waving a red flag in front of every hater on the Internet, and then begging them to ridicule you for foolish purchases and the like.

But it also proved a boon that I wouldn't take back for anything. It allowed me to pick the brains of some very smart money people in my quest to get the Good Ship Carlozo righted and sailing toward financial security. One of those experts, Julie Murphy Casserly, a Chicagohealers.com wealth and asset specialist. Casserly gave me the most to think about in terms of my wasteful habits. (Like: Eating out for lunch every day.)

Casserly thinks most families mired in the Great Recession -- the longest economic downturn since the Great Depression -- can save $500 or more a month by making a few simple adjustments. So if you're still struggling to manage and cut down your household budget, here's how you can do it -- making small changes with variable expenses such as groceries, food, clothing, shopping and entertainment:

The Great Recession of 2008 and 2009 has hurt not just the everyday working person, but also those who harbored big dreams in real estate, only to see fortunes vanish as the bubble burst. In this Recession Diaries special, developer Paul Pierce, whose name has been changed, shares his story of boom-to-bust through exclusive WalletPop interviews and excerpts from the diary he began writing hours after the biggest deal of his career fell through -- leading to losses in excess of $40 million.

On Saturday, Nov. 1 -- All Saint's Day, as he knew from his Catholic upbringing -- Paul Pierce walked into a Philadelphia Rite Aid store, plunked down two bucks, and bought a notebook with a marbled red-and-white cardboard cover: the kind grade school students use to do homework.

Then he returned to his luxury home in the Society Hill neighborhood just a few blocks away, a double-lot house that developers like Pierce dream of building or buying for their families once they hit it big.

His stomach in a knot, he sat alone at the island in his spacious, modern urban kitchen, and scrawled:

The Great Recession of 2008 and 2009 has hurt not just the everyday working person, but also those who harbored big dreams in real estate only to see fortunes vanish as the bubble burst. In this Recession Diaries three-part special, developer Paul Pierce (whose name has been changed) shares his story of boom to bust through exclusive WalletPop interviews and excerpts from the diary he began writing hours after the biggest deal of his career fell through -- leading to losses in excess of $40 million.


On Saturday, Nov. 1, -- All Saint's Day, as he knew from his Catholic upbringing -- Paul Pierce walked into a Philadelphia Rite Aid store, plunked down two bucks and bought a notebook with a marbled red-and-white cardboard cover, the kind grade school students use to do homework.

Then he returned to his luxury home in the Society Hill neighborhood just a few blocks away, a double-lot house that developers like Pierce dream of building or buying for their families once they hit it big.

His stomach in a knot, he sat alone at the island in his spacious, modern urban kitchen, and started scrawling:

In the next few weeks, Social Security trustees should make official what retirees have seen coming for some time: Starting in 2010, the annual cost of living adjustment (COLA) for Social Security will go on hold first the first time since 1975.

To put that in perspective: Anyone turning 65 next year would've been just 30 in '75, the year cost of living adjustments started. And while federal officials argue that a COLA is hardly needed next year, given the lack of inflation in our recession, others wonder if it overlooks a key fact: Health care expenses and doctor co-pays continue to far outpace inflationary pressures for seniors.

With all the debate and drama surrounding President Obama's health insurance overhaul, the COLA freeze could, at least in the short term, have a profound affect on seniors and their bottom line -- even though it has gotten far less press compared to the rancorous health care town hall meetings.

Just west of Chicago's Austin neighborhood, a stretch of Harrison Street in Oak Park, Ill. is revitalizing once-sleepy (and empty) storefronts with a force retrograde to any Great Recession.

On Oct. 2-4, the Oak Park Arts District will hold its first Arts Retreat Weekend. The idea, as community events go, is to provide a "staycation" experience for locals whose funds have been tapped out by the recessionary drought. And to that end, the culinary, musical and artistic events typify anything that you'll see in any of the Chicago area's arts-rich areas.

If this feature concerned yet another weekend arts festival, we could stop the story right here. But the nine blocks of boutiques, art galleries, cafes and restaurants speak volumes about what a determined group of citizens, business owners and artists can do to cultivate hope, life and promise amidst economic turmoil and uncertainty.

And now, a housing crisis story that does not involve greedy bankers, bad mortgages or even a recession: just a whole lot of teeny weeny bricks about to get scattered unless someone steps in with either a lot of cash or a storage shed the size of a jumbo jet hangar.

In fact, by any child's standard -- especially those crazy for Bionicles, Duplo and LEGO Agents -- this endangered property represents the ultimate dream house. But the address in question, a two-story Lego domicile in England, faces certain demolition Tuesday unless a last-minute reprieve comes through.

The house, built from more than 3 million LEGO bricks, is the brainchild of James May, host of the forthcoming BBC-TV series "Toy Stories." On that show, May takes a nostalgic look at classic toys and concocts challenges based on them. About 1,000 volunteers helped May build the LEGO house, which sits on a British wine estate in Dorking, Surrey.