Showing posts with label box store. Show all posts
Showing posts with label box store. Show all posts

Saturday, April 27, 2024

Sprung.

As I noted, and you know if you're in this hemisphere along with most of the population, spring has arrived. And that means hope! Dreams! Young love! And WORK WORK WORK.

Yesterday I was in the giant houseware store, which I'll call Loam Depot because I was buying mulch and rocks. Rocks! When you're a kid you think rocks just happen. They're not something you buy. They're all over. Why spend money on rocks? Why torture the poor suspension (yours and the car's) with a load of rocks? And why buy mulch when you can mow over leaves and make it?

I know, I know. I don't care why. It just is. Spring comes and my un-mulched areas look like crap. As for the rocks, like most people in the 'burbs whose mailbox is on the devil's strip twixt sidewalk and road, I am not content to just let the mailbox post stand in dirt. But I am not so foolish as to think something planted in primo dog zone would survive. Once one dog hits the spot they all want to, and there's no plant alive that can withstand that kind of barrage. Some people cover the ground at the base of the post with bricks or mulch, and some use decorative pebbles, like moi. I use red ones. They match the mulch. 


My dad was a great one for landscaping, and he absolutely 100% did not pass that love down to me. I envy people like him, people who love gardening and tending the lawn and all the other things that make the property look dandy. They get exercise and fresh air and have more to show to the world for the effort than sweaty gym clothes. I like growing individual plants, but nothing more than I can grow in a pot, and that includes grape tomatoes and bell peppers. I cannot stand the idea of turning a large plot of earth, shoving in seeds, then fighting off deer and rabbits and bugs all summer. Unless I can develop a plant that produces Krugerrands, I think I'm just not going to maintain the motivation necessary. 

Today, though, is one of those days I have to buckle down and get some things done. Putting down some tick-murdering poison along the border of the property, for example -- one of the ways we keep the dog tickless. Killing weeds in walkways and other places plants don't belong. Washing the cars -- I feel confident that the big freeze is done, and there's no point in have a vehicle that looks like a pretzel. 



I guess that shows just how close to nature I am, that my spring endeavors are all about cars and poison. Oh, and I got the grill going yesterday, so that's propane for burning meat. I'm a one-man Anti-UN Environmental Programme. And for that, at least, I am proud. 

As I look back on today's blog entry, I realize I've covered this ground in years gone by. And that's what spring is -- covering the same old ground, year after year. With mulch.

Monday, October 9, 2023

Store-bot quality.

A couple of years back my preferred supermarket introduced Smiley for a trial run. As I noted at the time, Smiley was a robot, intended to scoot around the aisles at will, offering Snickers and other unhealthy snacks for purchase to shoppers like me who were vulnerable to impulse buys and maybe feeling a bit peckish. At the time I accused it of being a candy-wielding Dalek, but that was unfair. And inaccurate: Dr. Who fans know that Daleks, like some candies, are hard on the outside but soft in the center. Not really robots, in other words. 

Well, the robot takeover didn't work in the supermarket, but the wholesale club is the next target. 



This robot is named Tally, and it haunts the aisles of BJ's Wholesale Club, checking inventory. The Boston Globe ran a story about Tally in March. The paper wrote: "Tally’s job is to use its sensors to scan shelves and check that products are in-stock, shelved appropriately, and priced correctly, according to BJ’s news release. It sends the information it collects to grocery store employees, who can then make any necessary changes." 

It's interesting because it's doing one of those jobs that's stupidly easy for a human but must have been deuced difficult to program for the robot. A human can walk by and at a glance see if the products are placed properly in their spots, not messed up or busted open, and that there are no empty slots, but a robot has to read the codes to know that things are where they are supposed to be and somehow judge product condition. 

Tally moves about the speed of a person walking briskly. I guess it's not a bad job to relegate to the machines; no person is going to be employed just to do inventory checking, so the employees can do other things. Like follow-up on Tally's findings. BJ's said there will be no job losses due to the use of the robots. Of course, taking a duty away from the employees does mean there will be fewer new hires, but never mind. 

Tally came along the aisle at a good clip like a tall, supercharged Roomba, but the aisles are quite wide in the wholesale store and we did not interact. I wondered later what Tally would have done were I blocking the aisle, like one of those oblivious shoppers who likes to park the cart perpendicular to traffic while looking for the nutrition label on soap. Tally must be programmed to deal with these public nuisances. 

But what if I were more obstructive? What if I put one of those skids of Bounty in its way? Would it note the thing was out of place and go around it? Turn and go back? Ask me I was Sarah Connah? 

Well, I wasn't going to mess with the robot. This ain't no Walmart -- I could get my membership card revoked, and then where would I be? My wife needs that box of 75 Dunkin' Donuts K-cups, you know.

Wednesday, September 13, 2023

Crap -- uh, craft.

So, rock painting. Is that a thing now? Or is it origami again?

Did Bob Ross ever paint rocks?

These books were all in the wholesale club back-to-school pile, and may be more indicative of what the kids were up to last year than this year. Rock painting is something to do, I guess. I don't recall ever doing it in school. Maybe in New York City they were afraid to let the kids have rocks small enough to throw.

It got me thinking about Craft Projects of My Youth, most of which were connected with elementary school. It's funny how some kids will take to one and not to another, how it's not always the kid you would think who excels at a particular craft. Here are the ones I remember, and my rating (from 0 to 5 yarn balls 🧶). Your mileage will certainly vary. I'd love to hear your take in comments. 

🎨🖌🖇🧶

Paper crafts (corrugated paper edition): Cutting and gluing pictures using sheets of colored corrugated paper. You had to think ahead a little because your cut-out pieces had to have the same direction of corrugation as the background. Otherwise you might have a corrugated man running left-right when he should be up-down, so instead of walking he has to lie down. Lame. Only saved from 0 yarn balls because a classmate accused the school librarian of having corrugated lips, which is still funny. 🧶

Papier-mâché (puppet edition): Very intense exercise in using heavy conical dowels made of cardboard (a.k.a. yarn cones) as puppet bodies and making papier-mâché heads for them. The amount of wet newspaper in that classroom was amazing. The humidity level rose 30%. Later, the heads were painted and decorated with glued-on stuff, and little clothes were made for them. They were all Wizard of Oz themed, because we used the puppets for our class drama that year. I cannot begin to tell you how long we worked on this, but it seemed to be the whole school year. I memorized the entire script even though I had about five lines. As involving crafts go, it was amazing. As for the finished puppet heads, everything looked like blobs. Especially mine. Still: 🧶🧶🧶🧶🧶

Macrame (belt edition): Everyone in class had to have a macrame belt ready for the annual spring class dance at the end of the year. Not a school dance per se; each class had to do some kind of dance number. Our costume required us to make our own macrame belts. I don't want to say that I was bad at it, but a cat would have had a better chance at making a ball of yarn into a belt. In desperation the teacher asked the #1 macrame artist in the class to make my belt -- this little twerp, a jerk who would have been the class bully if he'd not been short, but as it was, was a loudmouth who could piss off anyone. He was a genius at macrame. Who knew? 🧶🧶

Stuff with Popsicle sticks (I have no idea edition): I just know there were tongue depressors and paint and glue. Nothing good ever came out of it. 🧶

Ceramics (painting edition): We got to pick our choice of unpainted ceramics to paint. When I say "our choice" I mean no choice at all, since we went by lottery. I got these little pine trees. Some kids got huge things with an opportunity to do some thoughtful and creative painting. I painted mine green. I am still disappointed, but on the other hand, I had those trees out every Christmas for decades. 🧶🧶 

Tilework (glue edition): We got sheets of little tiles, cut them to shape, and glued them on other things. In theory, pretty cool; in practice, mosaics for morons. 🧶

Pottery (middle school edition): Now we're talking. Using the snake coil method to build up a pot, painting, firing, glazing! Kilns were involved! My pot still came out looking like crap--literal crap, as I painted it brown for some reason, and it was lumpy--but it was tons of fun. I still have it somewhere. It's heavy enough to kill a guy. 🧶🧶🧶🧶🧶

Knitting (adult edition): This actually was team-building project designed by people who did not know anything about knitting, because when you have twenty people knitting a square, even if they knew how to knit, every square is still going to be a different size because of variations among knot sizes, hand sizes, and general ability. Most people did not know how to knit. The dreamed-of goal of having a group crazy quilt was put to bed within the hour. I, of course, could not even make a good snarl. No improvement from my macrame belt fiasco. 0

🎨🖌🖇🧶

That's all I can remember offhand. I am glad we didn't do origami. I think probably some kid would have lost a finger. I don't think our school turned out a lot of geniuses, is what I'm saying.

Sunday, September 3, 2023

Sanitized.

Three years ago I was driving my wife's car in Pennsylvania. I stopped to pick up some goods at Walmart. The Chinese Death Flu was riding high at the time. I realized that she had no hand sanitizer in the car, so I grabbed a bottle to keep in the vehicle. I happened to notice it on Friday when I was using her car again. 

sani+smart

Didn't that take me back. Especially the scent, which is strong but pleasant enough for a hand sanitizer. Lavender? I suppose. 

I remembered that trip to the Walmart, how one of the store's exits had been closed off -- which funneled all customers through the same doors and ensured us being closer together at one point at least, but whatever. Also the masks. The arrows in the aisles. The dots on the floor by the register for social distancing. The plastic sheeting everywhere. The special shopping hours. The nitrile gloves, the weird shortages. All of it. All, apparently, for nothing. 

I don't know about you, but I'm not doing it again. 

The news is panicky about a new variant. Screw that. I'm not discounting it entirely -- three friends of mine over the age of 65 just had it. For one it was his third time with COVID, and he's vaxed out the bazooty. But guess what? All of them survived, even the one with severe physical degenerative issues in a long-term care facility. 

The whole mask thing was a bust. That's not just coming from the right-wing press. We know this, and they still want to start all over with it again. Closing the schools was a literal disaster for the kids. Watch what the teachers' unions do next. One thing for sure, it means we won't be allowed to ditch any of the rules for remote voting, the ones that made it so easy to, er, fortify the 2020 election.

I played along last time because we didn't know better, and the ones who did just lied. Also, I am not the kind of guy who believes in taking stands that inconvenience innocent bystanders. Why demand to shop barefaced and force some put-upon store manager to have to deal with me? He has enough on his plate. But I'm not going through that again, not unless the plague is the real deal, wiping out healthy people in the thousands like the Spanish Flu or the Black Death. So the Wuhan labs better cook up something really hot for our next election year. 

Speaking of which, that bottle of hand sanitizer expired in April 2022, long after my patience with the federal government had. And can you guess where it was manufactured?

Red China sucks

Communist China: The cause of -- and treatment for? -- all the world's ills. 

Tuesday, July 25, 2023

It's autumn!

Once again, Walmart has said, "Still more than a week to go in July. Back to school!"

school supplies

I understand that some colleges start early, and even in these technological times those students still need basic school supplies. But those of us in the New York area, where school doesn't start before Labor Day, know that this is a sight that, in late July, leads to much wailing and gnashing of teeth among the kids. I could almost hear them gnashing away as I took the picture. 

That was last Friday. I am almost dead certain that the next time I go to a supermarket, probably this upcoming Friday, July 28, Halloween candy will dominate the seasonal aisle. Pool noodles, water guns, folding lounge chairs, all that stuff will shoved aside. 

It has been more than a month since the longest day of the year, and surely autumn is looking to make its move. This shot came from the morning walk with baby dog Izzy. Autumn, lurking. 

scarecrow

I think that the scarecrow is behind the hedge because it's going out with the garbage; that seems to be where the family keeps its trash cans. But maybe not. Maybe it's just there to watch over us, to snicker and say, "You fools, playing in the sun! I was once young and carefree like you. Then the autumn chill stole into my straw, and now my time is waning and almost done. Memento Mori!"

Or maybe their dog peed on it. Either/or. 

Friday, May 12, 2023

Walmart lies.

Just for the record, Walmart totally lied to me and knew they were lying and did it anyway. 

One day I went into the store, as one does, and forgot to bring my reusable bags. The People's Republic of New York has outlawed the complementary plastic bags that have been used for forty-odd years, but grocery stores all have paper bags that the consumer can buy for a nickel. That's the law, and they all comply. 

Except that this time, with a cart full of Walmart crap, I pulled up to the checkout to find that the paper bags were no longer available. I had forgotten my stupid and probably germ-laden reusables, but figured I could blow forty cents like a Rockefeller on paper bags. But no -- no paper bags anymore. 

I guess I could have just taken everything out of the store loose, but that would be hard to deal with in the car, and that's if the Greeter Patrol didn't stop me because it looked like I hadn't checked out. This is not some lawless horror show like Portland or Chicago, where one just takes what one wants and leaves. So I bought some more stupid reusable bags. 

When I got home, I wrote to Walmart, asking what was up with no paper bags. Sadly, I did not retain the conversation, but the poor schlub (probably on the other side of the world) explained to me that this was Walmart's latest effort to save the environment in which we live, by doing away with paper bags. 

Uh-huh. Okay. I thanked the person with the phony name and said I knew he/she/it was lying, but had to repeat the company line. 

Proof came a couple of months later, when I was in Pennsylvania, and stopped into get a couple of things from their Walmart. And what was at all the checkouts? 

Plastic bags. 

Walmart lies

So clearly, Walmart -- a company that sells more cheap and easily broken plastic garbage than any other on Earth -- doesn't give a damn about the sainted environment. (I know, you're heading for the fainting couch as you read those words.) 

I still don't know why the New York Walmart decided to make life even more annoying for its customers than the law requires. I doubt they think that New York's environment must be preserved but Pennsylvania's can go to hell. But, yeah, Walmart lies, just like every other damn institution these days. You literally cannot trust any institution to tell the truth about the slightest thing. 

Shame on you, Walmart. You can't even be honest when it would cost you nothing. I shall be making a greater effort to avoid Sam Walton's misbegotten beast in the future.

Saturday, February 4, 2023

Sign of the times.

Well, it certainly was windy in New York yesterday. 

[Audience: HOW WINDY WAS IT?]

It was so windy you could hear the air whistling through our governor's head, playing Billy Preston's immortal "Nothing from Nothing."

As I knock these words out it's a little after six p.m. on Friday. The temperature is dropping to below zero, bringing the ruinous winds, and there are 57 power outrages posted on the local utility company Web site. We've been lucky -- so far. If the electricity goes out our gas furnace can't go on. And we only have one dog to cuddle up to -- everyone knows you need at least three for a bad cold night. 

To show you just how bad the wind was on Friday, here's one of the big signs in our area as I saw it at eleven in the morning:




That sign's been up for over a decade and I don't remember it ever getting whipsawed so badly, not even when hurricanes have crawled up this far north. My wife thought some large projectile must have been flown right through it, but I don't think so. I am not sure if it's appropriate or ironic that the one fix-it store in the shopping plaza, Home Depot, had its sign completely blown out. 

Side view -- I don't know what those signs are made of but they were coming off like shredded cloth.




Mean as this cold snap is, it's not supposed to last. By Sunday we should have a high of 44. That'll feel like a day in Daytona by comparison. 

Stay warm out there, my friends. Human beings are only able to survive this kind of thing because God gave us the brains for it. It's our only natural defense against the elements. Regarding intelligence: I wonder sometimes why half the population of New York doesn't die when the weather gets rough. I've seen how they drive. 

Thursday, November 17, 2022

Mailbox of doom?

We all know, or should know, that ATM use has its risks. People in urban areas (what we used to call cities) are routinely warned to be cautious when using any sort of cash machine, especially at night and especially in dodgy neighborhoods. Dumb punks will rob you as soon as you have your dough, even force you to take out more. Smart punks will use skimmers to get your card data and clear out your accounts. When security cameras were placed in the machines and the surrounding areas, they helped deter some of these bad acts, at last for a while. However, these days our big-city district attorneys don't seem much interested in prosecuting even violent crime, so why should the criminals worry?

And even in places where they do prosecute theft and violence, you might get jugged. 


Jugging is the delightful practice wherein the punk follows the ATM user for some distance, sometimes far from the point of cash withdrawal if by car, and when the victim is in a less secure location, helping himself to the cash. 

"The robber then follows the customer outside the establishment before taking the money from the victim or breaking into the person's vehicle, most often at a new location but sometimes outside the bank," as the Austin American-Statesman describes it. "'There, they are approached, threatened with violence, or assaulted while the suspect demands the money or aggressively takes the cash bag,' the Austin Police Department said in a statement."


So the common ATM is increasingly a hotspot for crime. But what of the more mundane, totally anodyne United States Postal Service mailbox? 

Glad you asked!

"Whether you’re sending holiday cards or gifts, or just mailing your monthly rent check, you may want to avoid using those large, blue collection boxes—at least for the next few months, United States Postal Service (USPS) officials have advised," writes Elizabeth Yuko at Lifehacker. Well, that's all right; no one sends any mail around the holidays, do they?


You'll be hard-pressed to find the relevant press releases from the USPS's own site, which has a tendency to BAD REQUEST you out of anything that isn't brand-new, but according to KY3 in Springfield, Missouri, here's the problem:

Before you drop an envelope in one of those blue boxes, United States Postal workers want you to keep a few things in mind.

USPS reported an increase in thefts from these boxes during the holiday season. Here are a few precautions to make sure your gifts are delivered.

First, look at the time of the last collection for the day on the front of the blue box. Make sure you are putting your mail in the boxes before that time. You don’t want your letters or packages sitting overnight or over holidays and weekends when thieves could target the boxes.

“One of the best things that you can do is hand it off directly to your postal carrier, obviously, then it’s already in their hands, and it’s into the system,” said United States Postal Inspector Paul Shade. “The other option would be to take it directly into the post office. And obviously, it would have to be during regular business hours, but that’s the most secure way to protect your mail.”

Yeah, well, the one time we had something stolen in transit it was a Home Depot gift card in a birthday card, and it was stolen right out of the USPS processing center in Brooklyn and used at a Home Depot in that borough before we even knew it was missing. Of course we filed a complaint, but we never heard anything -- and of course the money was gone forever. So your trusty postal worker, especially some asshat hired to help out during the busy season, may also not be so trusty. 

Still, I guess it's better than leaving anything in a secure mailbox, which is secure. Everyone knows tampering with the mail is a federal offense, and that means real trouble, right?

Ha. Yeah.


What's going on out there? We can't use ATMs, let alone the bank itself. We can't answer our doors, because burglaries are on the rise, especially in cities. Every house in America is getting security cameras, willfully pushing along a dystopian end of privacy for the fear of violence and theft. And now we can't use the friendly blue mailbox? Meanwhile, despite the cameras and guards, retail giants like Target are losing hundreds of millions because they can't stop organized shoplifting rings; no one gets arrested and no one goes to jail. (I'm no fan of Target, but this is ridiculous.)

You know, the whole rampant crime issue was supposed to be the real needle-mover on the midterm elections, and is certainly a prime issue with which most adults have been grappling. But there seems to be a lack of understanding among freshly minted idiot voters. In City Journal, John O. McGinnis writes

When I get together with friends, the conversation often turns to their children’s political views, which are almost always significantly more liberal than theirs. Sometimes, their children’s stances are so far to the left as to baffle them. The daughter of one friend supported prison abolition, but she could not explain to her father how this policy could possibly work in practice.

This last bit really caught my eye. I've heard the term "prison abolition" before, and when it's accompanied by the slightest attempt to suggest a replacement for imprisonment, it's a thin goo of psychological service promises and equity spending. 

We've been using psychology on criminals for over a century; we've been social-spending out the bazooty since LBJ's Great Society; and yet crime and our cities become worse. There will always be human beings who would rather steal than work; there will always be psychopaths who want to kill and destroy; there will always be sociopaths and narcissists who think they deserve whatever they can take; and there will always be people whom a decent society will have to incarcerate to protect the innocent. Attempts to reform the guilty are admirable and important, but they are a distant second to providing protection for the innocent and justice for the injured. Anyone who can't understand that has been educated beyond intelligence and into a world of pure emotional nonsense. 




In the end, there are only three ways I know of to keep bad actors away from their victims:

1) Lock them up for a period society finds fair for their crimes;

2) Butcher them and drop them in mass graves (a favorite of socialist revolutionaries, who like to throw in political opponents as well); or

3) Let the beasts run wild and force everyone else to live imprisoned behind high walls, sharp cameras, barred windows. 


Hey, kids! You're all about the fairness. Does choice #3 seem fair to you? Does it seem like equity that your grandma can't leave the house, or mail you a check from the postal box? Maybe your college professor or online influencer or favorite musician has his or her head up his or her behind? Just a thought.

Saturday, October 22, 2022

To beat the best you have to eat the best.

If you'd like to eat 76 hot dogs in 12 minutes, these may be the condiments you're looking for:

 


Yes, the hero of Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest, Joey Chestnut, has cashed in his fame, and wisely, may I say. The Joey Chestnut World's Greatest Eater line of condiments appeared at my local Walmart this week. They've actually been around a few years, but this is the first I've seen them. Apparently a lot of the proceeds from these products go to charity, which is great.

I don't know if these products are any good -- after all, Joey is known for dunking his hot dogs and buns in water and cramming them down, not delicately basting them with sauces -- but how bad could they be? 

He's got wing sauces, mustard, and something called Classic Boardwalk Coney Sauce. I don't know what that is, and I went to Coney Island quite a lot in my childhood. Technically it should be a sauce used on rabbit meat, but I guess you can use it on anything. 

I applaud Joey for his outstanding work. I know there's no single belt for all eating events, but if there was, I'd bet he would be its uncontested chowing champion of the world. When the Nathan's contest was being won by Japanese men who (according to Curtis Sliwa) trained in secret camps and spread out across the world, eating for victory, Joey saved our national pride. Takeru Kobayashi had won the Nathan's contest six times in a row, wiping the floor easily with contenders like Charles "Hungry Man" Hardy. Joey entered the arena and said "Hold my Maalox." He went on to win the contest every year since 2007 except for 2015, when fellow American Matt Stonie edged him by two dogs.

Competitive eating may seem like a silly thing, even a waste of good food, but it is definitely difficult. Would you really want to try your luck at eating the most mayonnaise in three minutes? (Michelle "Cardboard Shell" Lesco, 3.5 jars, or 86.35066 ounces -- well over half a gallon in three minutes.) Not me, thanks. 

To be the absolute best at something, even something as weird as eating the most Peeps (Stonie again, 255 in five minutes), takes really stupendous effort. There's only room for one at the pinnacle, and certainly when it comes to hot dogs, Joey Chestnut is there. 

I don't think he does the mayo contests, though. Maybe that's why he doesn't offer a Joey Chestnut Mayonnaise. Michelle Lesco could offer a brand of mayo. 

A Matt Stonie-themed Peep might be fun, now that I think about it. 

Saturday, October 15, 2022

On a kale of 1 to 10...

My wife was looking around for healthier snacks, and that's how this entered our home. 


Yes, here's a snack that ticks all the appropriate boxes:

🍴 USDA certified organic
🍴 Plant-based
🍴 Probiotic
🍴 Non-GMO
🍴 Air-dried
🍴 Gluten-free
🍴 Vegan
🍴 Pricey
🍴 Features the godawful word veggie on the label

One would expect that Brad has a story behind his journey, a plucky and inspirational tale of a guy with a dream and a handful of kale who made it to the big time. But there doesn't appear to be a Brad at Brad's. No Brad mentioned anywhere. The Web site says, "Our CEO, Arthur Pergament, was driven to a plant-based diet many years ago by a health emergency. After nine months on the regimen, his health was completely restored and he felt and looked better than ever. Today, Arthur’s on a mission to bring Brad’s Plant Based snacks to everyone looking to live a healthy life." 

But what is it? Basically it's fried kale with some koji spores to make it taste cheesy. I personally believe that the Collective Unconscious tells us that anything that tastes like cheese that is not cheese is suspicious, and that's something vegans have to suppress in themselves, but it's just a theory. 

I was surprised that my wife was willing to try this, as both of us have a strong aversion to kale. Like a lot of grumpy guys, it's a symbol to me of all that is lousy in progressivism, plus I dislike it, but she just can't stand it. 

We were forced to come to two conclusions about Brad's kale snacks, however:

1) They were not as bad as we expected. 

2) If a bag of this stuff had been found in my jacket in high school, I would have been suspended. 

Makes a bunch of nickel bags, and
has its own stay-fresh packet.

I think it's still pretty meh, and there's the fake cheese thing, but on the whole, it's edible. If principles or health problems lead you to this point, you can eat it. You may like it. However, I will point out that after our initial taste test earlier this week, no one has gone back to eat some more. 

By the way, if any of you from the Greater New York area are wondering if Arthur Pergament is connected to the once-mighty now-defunct Pergament Home Centers, a popular chain wiped out by Home Depot and Lowe's, the answer is: Yes. Arthur is the grandson of Louis, who founded the store in 1935; his dad Bob Pergament co-founded the store and ran it until they sold out in the mid-80's. Arthur became a Park Avenue hedge fund manager, and now he's making weird snacks for the kind of people who will never stop wearing masks in the stores. Funny where life can take you. 

Friday, September 23, 2022

Fall, and I can't get up.


So autumn pulled in yesterday and did doughnuts on the lawn, or maybe that was dog Izzy. It crashed the last of summer's party at nine last night, and this morning the temperature was in the forties. The torch has been passed. The equinox has been equinoxed.  

In other words, Fall has Fell, and I'm next. 

The problem is not autumn, of course, but that it is followed by winter, and that's where most of the trouble starts. Regular readers -- however irregular they may be in other ways -- know that I have a bad back and a tendency to collect concussions, and it's all made me down on winter. Worst of all, it's sucked a lot of joy out of autumn, which was always my favorite season. 

If that's not enough, Creeping Holiday Syndrome is beginning to overrun autumn entirely. I am intending to brave the shores of Walmart today, and I'll bet you I find Christmas decorations already on sale. They just can't help themselves. 

If you're in the neighborhood for the next six months, I'll be the guy with the Golden struggling to remain vertical through thick and thin. Those being: snow and ice. Stop and say hi, and give me a hand up if I've become spontaneously horizontal, will you? I thank you for your support. 


UPDATE: This morning.




Thursday, August 11, 2022

Game of throne.

New toilet for the master bathroom arrived yesterday. If you heard something, that was the parade I threw in its honor. We're flushed with joy.

As is typical for the homeowner, what started as a small issue turned into a pricey fix that took weeks to resolve. There were a lot of ifs along the way that would have prevented this from getting out of hand and thus out of pocket:

🚽 If I had installed this toilet properly two decades ago, it might not have started to leak.

🚽 If I had bothered to change the gasket when I was changing out the screws that held the tank to the bowl, that might have stopped the leak for real. 

🚽 If I had just bought a cheap can at Home Depot instead of asking my wife which throne she desired, I might have been able to bring it home myself and not have to pay delivery. 

🚽 If she had picked something that wasn't big and heavy and had super-flush technology (we'll get to that), we would have saved a hundred bucks. 

🚽 If I had not exposed myself as an incompetent plumber, I could have installed it myself. 

🚽 If she had not noticed the damp spot on the ceiling below the toilet, all this could have been ignored until we moved or died. 

But, if ifs were horses, beggars would ride. 

It's all resolved now, however. The new throne has arrived and was installed by two very polite young chaps. The new one is elongated and chair-height, which is nice, and has Kohler's Revolution 360 super-flushing technology. The queen of England in her Windsor-era WC could only wish for a throne this delightful. 



I'd like to go up and play with the new installation some more, but I've already flushed it a few times. I would hate to be called a four-flusher. 

Tuesday, August 9, 2022

Hither and thither.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Nah, I'll just show some pictures of where I've been lately and what they're all about. 


You all know how much I love my mulch. But this gentleman really went game. He got a pile of red mulch so big that in one of your flatter states like Florida or North Dakota it would have been considered a mountain range. Then he mulched everything, even this tree stump. 

So, what's the advantage of mulching a tree stump? Er... Well, his young kids like to play baseball, so maybe this is a warning track!   


From the window of a local Chase branch. Doesn't this look a little Christmassy to you? I guess they're stars but they look like snowflakes, most having eight points. Not sure what the idea is here. 



This is sad. After something like 30 years, the garden center/florist/café in town is closing. Actually, this is after the closing; they sold everything half off. The owners are very decent people but were getting too old for the work. They kept afloat for almost 20 years after a Home Depot and later a Lowe's moved into the area. They had a personal touch and a great location, and their plants were always in better condition than the ones at the big box stores. Still, with the competition I doubt anyone would have bought their business. 

I heard the people who did buy the property are planning to build a hotel, which is odd. This isn't the kind of town that screams "We need a Holiday Inn Express!" or the like. We shall see. 

Personal note: This store was the inspiration for Houghton Holly’s Garden Center in my MacFinster novels, although the hard-charging fictional owner, Holly Starke, is nothing like the nice people who owned this place. 



Finally, here's an interesting piece a neighbor put out on the lawn. It's a Farmall Model H tractor. The Model H was manufactured between 1939 and 1953, but I don't know the year of this one. I don't even know if it's in working condition, although it looks great. I'll let you know if I see it chugging down the street or around the yard. 

Sunday, July 10, 2022

Out & about.

Or, as our Canadian readers might say, oot & aboot. 

In other words, it's another Pictures from the Road entry! 


This day started off with a pleasant sky; a friend I showed this to said it looked like a macaroni and cheese morning, but I think it's more like a customer got a little crazy at the pizzeria with the Parmesan.  



Someone set up a cute li'l deer sculpture, but as I noted some time ago, most lawn statuary represents things you don't see normally, and we got deer out the bazooty around here. Why put up a statue to one? We know what they look like. Why not a gnome, or a jockey, or a saint? I've never met one of them. Well, maybe a saint or two.


Ouch! This house got it but good. I hope I think of this anytime I dream of a peaceful cottage nestled in the woods. One of those trees gets a little ancient and bam! Tarps and Tyvek and insurance claims, and God I hope no one got hurt. 


Over the in sewer department, looks like the guys halted progress on a job for the weekend. I don't know what that green thing is, but it's a new one of the rusted thing. 


And finally, off to Walmart for the big Back to School extravaganza! On July 9! Go ahead and cry, kids; the days are getting shorter already. 

Sunday, January 16, 2022

The knots that bind.

I know I said I wasn't going to talk about Christmas anymore, but one last unexpected thing has come up that I thought you might find interesting. 

It was time (or past time) to gather up the giftwrap and put it away neatly, which usually means I put the tubes of paper in a box and everything else in a huge bag. Well, I was trying to be a little neater this year, and as a result I came across a buried treasure from decades ago, something I inherited and have not yet used. 


This is an unwrapped roll of curling ribbon (or as it's billed here, crinkle ribbon) that my mom bought from Kmart in the 1980s. I'm not sure when, but the price tag says 87, and it could certainly have been that interesting year. The font used for "The Spirit of Christmas" screams mid to late eighties to me. And the price, $1.57 for 400 feet, is definitely old; I saw a similar roll of multicolored ribbon from Target, $3 for just 70 feet. 

I know my mom bought this. She loved to wrap gifts with curling ribbon. I'm not such a big fan, as it really wraps up a box tight and the ribbon often needs to be cut; moreover, half the time I'll have it all done and use the scissors to curl the ribbon, and wind up with a stretched-out busted Slinky of a decoration instead. When it works it makes an elegant presentation. The point is, I inherited a bunch of this stuff from Mom and haven't used it up all these years later.

Mom liked to shop at Kmart. In the late eighties, Walmart was just a rumor on the East Coast. Kmart was everywhere. Now there are only five of them left in the entire state of New York. 

Here's something interesting that ties into yesterday's post: See where the Kmart ribbon was made? 



Yes, the good ol' U.S.A.! Get this: The Target ribbon was also made in the United States! By golly, maybe we can't make appliances or clothes or electronics or furniture or tools or toys or picture books or car parts anymore, but by golly, we lead the world in curling ribbon!

Well, that wasn't why I wanted to post this. I wanted to say I miss my mom, especially at Christmastime, and it was nice to have this little reminder of her. That's all.

Saturday, January 8, 2022

the warning sign of lowercase letters.

 I see that Target has changed its logo now. I think the company may be in trouble. 

Old

New

I've noticed that companies go to the lowercase letters when they are getting a rapacious image and want to look friendly again. Uppercase letters look dynamic and effective, but when your reputation turns from dynamic and effective to vicious and ruthless, it's time to break out the wee little letters.

we're your friend! we're here to help!

A few years back Walmart (then WAL*MART) was getting all kinds of bad press, for poor treatment of employees, ruining downtowns and mom & pop shops, killing U.S. manufacturing with a flood of cheap stuff from China, etc. They deployed a smiley face in their commercials, but it didn't help. Then they did this, and you hardly hear a complaint anymore. 


Citibank has been the home of many scandals over the years, but one that got a lot of press was when the bank was "involved in one of the biggest corporate scandals in United States history when it was accused of helping Enron disguise debt and agreed to pay $101 million to settle charges relating to the Enron fraud case," as HuffPost reported. And what did Citibank do about it? 


Yahoo! went from being a hotshot Internet stock to barely holding on for dear life. A series of terrible data breaches in the '10s was end of Marissa Mayer's career as CEO. What little rep Yahoo! had since its days as Chat Room King (remember those?) was swirling in the toilet. But don't worry; everything's under control!


I have to note that the lowercase rule does not apply to companies that have used lowercase from their founding, like Amazon and Google. They were early responders to the modern age of infantilization of consumers. Plus, they wanted to pillage from the get-go.

Has Target had any big scandals? Not lately that I know of, but for some data breaches and their expensive failure to launch in Canada. Maybe something is waiting in the wings and the logo change was preemptive. If your bank or investment company goes to a lowercase logo without warning, beware! 

I'm not sure how well this lowercase thing will work in the case of Yahoo! or Target, but it seems to have done fine for Citi and Walmart. Then again, in the case of some companies, nothing really seems to help....


Wednesday, November 25, 2020

Fred's Book Club: Black Friday Blues.

Greetings, book lovers, and welcome to another edition of the Humpback Writers. What dumb name is that, you ask? Why, it's a dumb name that reflects the fact that it is posted on Wednesdays, or Hump Day. Which, on Thanksgiving week, is more like Friday for most of us, but never mind. It's still dumb.

But speaking of work, today's book is all about retail, reflecting the Thanksgiving tradition of going to the mall and knocking people over for Black Friday sales. Of course everything is different this year, what with Chinese Death Virus preventing the usual doorbusters, thanks to government diktats and retailer fears of causing so-called super-spreader events. Also, with the blessings of our city leaders, the summer had plenty of doorbusters of another kind, wherein people would literally bust down doors and help themselves to 100% discounts. But that's another story. 

Our focus today is on the plight of the retail worker, and there's no better source than Norm Feuti, writer and illustrator of the comic strip Retail from 2006 to this past February. Feuti published a book on the subject in 2007, featuring a bunch of the strips from the series, called Pretending You Care: The Retail Employee Handbook.  


"I am of the opinion that everyone should hold a retail job at least once in their life," writes Feuti in the introduction, "not because I think it's an enjoyable experience, but because I think it builds empathy for the human condition. I believe that working in retail for more than fifteen years has taught me a lot about people and the world we live in. The things I've learned are not always pretty, but they are valuable and true nonetheless." 

For example, one of the things he stresses is that you have to pay your dues. Under the heading "Being the Newbie," he writes, "The transition from newbie to trusted colleague is a slow process, so you should count on being handed the crappiest jobs the store has to offer for at least the first month. Everyone has to go through an initiation period, so when they tell you to clean the toilets or climb into the cardboard compactor when it gets jammed, just suck it up. You can't be accepted into the flock until you've felt their pain." This is indeed good life advice; it teaches humility, but conversely, when you've survived the crap jobs, you learn some self-respect for being able to handle adversity. 

Another important lesson is etiquette, or "How Not to Be the One Everybody Hates," and Feuti devotes an entire chapter to the subject. "Certain actions and behaviors will be considered unacceptable by your coworkers, and if you break these taboos too frequently you'll soon find yourself the object of everyone's scorn. If you walk into the break room and everyone suddenly stops talking, it's a good bet that you're doing something the rest of the staff considers 'not cool.'" He goes on to detail a number of ways you can screw up and infuriate your coworkers through poor etiquette in the retail setting, something that should be required reading for everyone in the business.

Throughout the book are scattered cartoons from the Retail strip, which was very funny, even to those of us who mostly experience retail from the other side of the register. Here is a sample page:


And here's a page particularly appropriate to Black Friday:


On the topic of the products sold by the store, the author makes an interesting distinction in a chapter called, logically, "Products" -- "all retailers tend to think of their merchandise in the same way. Whether they're selling jeans, computers, or Rubik's Cubes, retailers all see their individual wares as generic 'products' that affect the bottom line in either a positive or negative way." So the things that the front-line workers deal with are only 1s and 0s to the home office, tabulated to generate the bottom line of profit or loss. Which explains why the buyer can be very frustrated to find something he wanted is no longer available; that particular product (bit of data) wasn't generating enough money (bit of data desired). 

And yes, Feuti deals with one of the most irritating experiences in retail -- the sudden offer to enroll in a credit card program that offers a whatever discount or something, even if you are only spending five bucks. It's irritating on both sides of the counter, but the guys in the home office hundreds of miles away aren't bothered in the least.

One more section I wanted to mention, though, that's applicable to any workplace is what Feuti calls the Archetypes -- twelve basic types that employees run into. For example, the Animosity Generator is rude, inept, lazy, unhelpful, and gives everyone and the store a bad name. The Slacker is a master of goofing off. The Whiner complains about everything, but everyone else's suffering is invisible to him. The Transient (retail's most populous Archetype) is only hanging in there until something better comes along. And so on. 

It's a fun book and would make a fine present for the retail Lifer (another Archetype) on your list. Feuti's cartoon work is bright and clever; he's busy these days doing another strip called Gil and books for children, and good for him. He won't have to return to the cash register any time soon. 

As for me, I never worked in a retail store (they wouldn't hire me), but I was a teller for a year. So I met all the cranky customers in front of the desk and the same Archetypes behind the desk, thus I still clicked with the book. Pretending You Care is a book for anyone who's ever had a job, especially one that deals with the public. Scary things, publics.

Saturday, November 7, 2020

Where have I been?

Nothing political again today; I just can't stand it. 

Actually I had a busy week, and not just snoring slumping sitting at my desk. I was on the move, getting things done, seeing and being seen, and so on. 

So where have I been?


Walmart, for one, and the garden section is whole-hog Christmas now, featuring that damned snow homunculus, Olaf. God, I hate him and the whole Frozen franchise.  

My cart at Walmart was probably the only Halloweenish thing I saw, thanks to some wag who used a shelf label on my cart:



Must be the anti-Buffalo Bill.

The less-convenient-but-superior local supermarket has not hit its Christmas stride yet. Not that you could guess from the seasonal aisle:


The difference is, rather than any holiday-themed music, they were playing the Greatest Boomer Hits That Annoy Fred. Everything I've heard to death and never bothered to buy, like "Band on the Run." And you know what bugs me about the Yardbirds' "For Your Love"? The backup vocals are awful. They sound like they're singing with a sock stuck in their windpipe. "for yar lahvb"

"Did they play 'Imagine'?" my wife asked when I was kvetching later. 

"I said Hits That Annoy Fred, not Hits That Make Fred Burst Into the Manager's Office and Rip Out the Muzak Machine." 

In the pet store, I could buy a stuffed Santa ass sticking out of a stuffed chimney for the dogs to chew on.


No thanks. Would last about twenty seconds here. 

In another town in the county, a man named Gus Krauss started a camera shop and studio in 1907, and it seems to still be operating today, although said to be closed at the moment, possibly due to Chinese Death Virus. 


Gus left us in 1977, but the shop continued with new owners. Good to see a small business survive so long. 

On that note, the place I go to get my hair cut seems to have been killed off by the COVID, although the signs in the window say they "hope to return soon." Meanwhile, it looks like my wife will be cutting my hair again, unless she wants me to do it myself. Yes, it's blackmail and I don't care. 

Finally, here's a misty moon for you. The nice kind of moon, not the naughty kind. 


Keep on shining, wherever you are.