New Year’s Eve 2023

A year of low expectations

I’ve never been one who’s been much for unfettered optimism, especially on New Year’s. I really hate the New Year’s holiday. For the same reason that I’m not a fan of Yom Kippur; all that self-reflection and introspection. In my world, self-reflection involves focusing on all the things I’ve gotten wrong in the last year, which typically spirals into some pretty negative lines of thinking.

This year, it’s made worse by the prospect of a year ahead that, at the moment, doesn’t seem to have much to hope for good news and positive energy. Doesn’t help when today’s paper features an article predicting just how shitty 2024 is likely to be. It’s hard to rationalize dark thoughts as creations of my own disturbed psyche when the media confirms my fears. Between the war in Israel, the normalization of antisemitism, and an election that’s going to be even more divisive and more fraught with bullshit claims and straight-up fascist rhetoric than anything I’ve ever experienced, there just ain’t much to hope for. Pile on the erosion of the checks and balances that were supposed to keep our Republic safe and protect our way of life- see Clarance and Ginny Thomas, the demise of the Roberts court, Mike Johnson, and this teams goal of reinterpreting our constitution to support a new theocracy.. there’s just a shit-ton bad juju out there.

In my personal life, there are a few elephants in the room to deal with. Heretofore, I’ve been kicking those bitches down the road. So, I suppose there’s no reason not to continue to do that.

The worse of those elephants, and this is a direct of my being “pretty freaking old” is the concept of “chronic ruttage.” Don’t bother looking it up; I just invented the term and syndrome, all in the same brilliant stroke.

I define “chronic ruttage” as the prospect of doing the same thing over and over again. In my case, another year is working. Which, on the one hand, is a good thing. Work, for good or bad, is where I get 90% of my affirmation and feelings of worth. I work all the time. Not because I have any aspirations or expectations of promotion, but rather because it’s what’s expected, and I have a deep innate need to meet expectations. My financial analyst made an offhanded remark last year: “You’re the type of guy who drops dead the day after they retire.” When I think about it, they’re probably right. I live to work, not the other way around.

Which leads to the next elephant – retirement.

Two years ago, about this time, I started talking about retiring. My target date was July 2024—Ya, six months or so from now. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it might be a bad idea. For one thing, I hadn’t prepared Mrs S for the idea that I’d be retired one day. She was sort of adamant that having me around the house 24/7 is inconsistent with “joy” in her world. At least “for now.”

For the record, there’s some history of using “for now” to avoid saying “no.” in our house. See replacing my dead dog as an example. “For now” has stretched into seven years. Retirement is the same thing. The more I thought about retirement, the more I realized I couldn’t answer the question, “What are you most looking forward to about retirement.” I got nothing. I don’t particularly like weekends, to be honest. I get bored. Vacations? Not a fan. 90% of vacations are staycations that I take to get vacation time off the books. While I look forward to having some free time for a week, I’m usually pretty bored and stressed about what I’m missing by the end. So much so that I typically log on to check email, work on projects, etc. For those few vacations where I go somewhere, usually alone, I wouldn’t say I like the feeling at the end that I’m coming back to a million emails and tons of additional work.

So, my new retirement plan is to get carted out of the office on a gurney feet first. I’m sure this idea will change.

sigh Another New Year’s is here; maybe the idea to cope this year is to stop thinking about New Year’s as a time for change and reflection and consider another day, another month, another year. Get along as best I can, and continue to lower expectations of what the future will hold. That way, I won’t be disappointed and have a better chance of looking back this time next year and confidently saying I “met expectations.”

Secret Austerity Measures

I need to lighten up a bit. So, here goes. Potty Humor the great release.

I noticed that there’s been a change at our house recently. I don’t know for sure, but the Chief Procurement Officer (CPO) may have instituted an austerity plan I didn’t know about. I wasn’t consulted, and that would be weird in this case. In the past, when she instituted such a plan, I was usually the first person to find out. Typically, when the family budget office has decided cuts are needed, my habits are the first to come under scrutiny. The usual audit process for identifying budget cuts is to audit discretionary spending- sporting goods, tickets, camera equipment, hookers and blow…

The hot topic at the moment is streaming subscriptions. You know, back in the day, like 2018 or so, we cut the cable and went 100% streaming. The promise that was made at that time, and I forget which family member made that promise, was that streaming would be a LOT cheaper than cable. To be clear, this is an “I have no recollection of those events” to avoid incrimination sort of forgetting as opposed to I’m 60 now, and it slipped my mind sort of forgetting. I do use the Excuse #60 more than I should. Anyway, it was going to be cheaper to stream. And it was, for about three weeks. Now it feels like I get a rate increase from the streamers about every two months. And all those $7.00 monthly subscriptions are now in the $15.00 range. So the overall hit is equal to or more than cable was when you include the ISP.

I’ve noticed another other sign that I might be on a program of some sort:

Mrs S and I have separate bathrooms; we actually have different house floors, another story. Imagine how shocked I was when I discovered that my bathroom had switched to single-ply bath tissue. And I realized this at the most inopportune time for one to make such a horrific discovery.

Seriously, W T F.

In the past, we used single-ply at the cabin. I was told that it was better for the septic system. Couple of things I challenged about that statement. First of all, any savings on the system would be a wash because most people would just wrap half the roll around their hands to make up for the difference. The other thing, for the record, is that we don’t have a septic system there. We have a holding tank, which is different. A holding tank means that all’s fair when it comes to flushing. If it goes down the toitoi, it’s good to go. Good thing the daughter’s cat has a big head or uh… Also good for her a plunger wasn’t handy.

So, no excuses. We stopped using tracing paper and switched back to the good stuff.

At home, however?

I’m honestly really puzzled about why we have this sort of product in the house. Maybe an accidental purchase at Target? I would be thrilled to throw away the unused stuff and get the 8-ply. No harm done.

I have another working theory. Maybe we’re working through some of the TP cache we accumulated in March 2020. Remember those days? We thought civilization as we knew it was coming to an end, and by stocking up on toilet tissue, we’d be safe from the horror of having to use cut-up sheets of 20# computer paper. Also, we would have something to barter for food in a pinch. Well, we stocked up and stocked up so much so that we were probably the reason for local shortages.

One of the issues with hoarding TP in the garage for three years is that mice are not as picky as I am about what TP they use. Little vermin have a totally different use case. They see a roll of TP as a cornucopia of fresh, clean nesting material. Matter of fact, they like it so much that they’re willing to relocate their nests from inside the shop vac or under in Mrs S’s gardening kit just to be close to, or even inside those soft but not so fluffy rolls of TP. The downside is that when you go to grab a roll or two and a mouse runs across your hand, as recently happened to one of the family…, let’s just say that having a roll in your hand at that moment is convenient.

I suppose I could ask Mrs. S what’s up, and this is where being 60 comes in; once I get done grumbling and complaining to myself, wash my hands, and head out of the john, I forget about it. Forget about it until the next time I reach for the roll and remember, “Aw shit, I forgot to ask about this.”

I need to make a list when I think of stuff like that. The problem is that I keep all my lists on the phone. I have a strict “no phone in the potty” rule. If you do not have such a rule and like to use your phone in the can, don’t do that in a public restroom. Just a personal observation. No one likes to hear one side of a conversation about anything, especially in the bathroom. Side note: regardless of where the restroom is, I know many people don’t believe that there are actually times when you don’t need to be connected. Could you let me know if you feel that it’s fine to use one’s phone in the stall? I’d like to put you on my “never touch that phone” list.

Much obliged.

We don’t have consensus

“The board’s viewpoints are varied, and we found consensus out of reach.”

Not an uncommon position for organizations when they’re dealing with controversial issues.

In this case, the controversy is this: does the Writer’s Guild of America condemn the murder of Jews in Israel on October 7 by Hamas?

That’s the controversy.

In a controversy, there are two sides.

The verb “condemn” means you do not approve of something.

This means that on the board of the Writers Guild of America, there are board members who approve of Hamas’s actions on October 7.

Approve. Support. Don’t disagree with…

I don’t need to reiterate what Hamas did on October 7.

And for the record, these people are professional writers; they know what “condemn” means, and they know what “consensus” means. So, yes, they approve of murder. But, maybe it’s qualified murder, only when the people being killed are Jews is ok.

Statement popular with the Hamas Apologists crowd online in the last few weeks-

“Hamas did not behead 40 babies; that’s a lie.”

OK, so they may not have beheaded them; they just killed them. This begs the question, then, is it OK just to kill them, as long as you don’t get too crazy in how you do it?

Antisemitism- Just Own It

At Harvard, students were doxxed for signing on to a “celebrate the murderers, it was their victim’s fault” document. Some of the writers on strike also signed a similar document. These folks we so brave, they only signed their initials because they feared “being called antisemitic.” Apparently, the “pro-Israel” people would come after them. Just say “the Jews” and be honest about it. Both groups were upset that they were chastised for exercising their freedom of speech. No one said free speech also means no accountability for what you say. Just own it folks.

Funny how these people can condemn the collective punishment of the Palestinians while at the same supporting the collective punishment of their former friends and coworkers, all of whom happen to be Jewish. By this, I mean the explosive rise of antisemitic activities here in the United States. This line of thinking uplifts the people who murdered the president of a Jewish community in Michigan last week. She was found stabbed to death outside her synagogue. Her crime; she was a Jew. This “They bring this on themselves” logic goes back to Martin Luther, if not before. He justified burning Synagogues and whole Jewish communities in Germany on the idea that “I reformed the church, and STILL they spurned the gospel.”

I think what smarts the most, from my perspective, is this- For as long I’ve been alive, every Jewish organization I’ve ever been involved with, save one or two, has been deeply involved in other people’s struggle for equal rights. We created sanctuaries in our synagogues for immigrants, we supported same-sex unions before it was legal to do so, and we advocated for marriage equality in our communities. We marched with civil rights activists from day one, and our kids bled and died in the fight to bring voting rights to disenfranchised people in the Jim Crow South. We’ve donated generously to the causes of other people who have been oppressed or denied their rights. We have taught our youth that Tikkun Olam, the responsibility we assume as Jews to repair the world, means helping lift up communities around us, all communities, not just Jewish ones.

And yet, when we’re being attacked and killed, crickets, for the most part. Worse than crickets, we hear accolades from many of these groups for the very people who would perpetrate 19th-century-style pogroms. Specifically targeting non-combatants, killing families, and then sending a WhatsApp to mom on one of a victim’s phone to brag about it. Let’s call it what it is: a celebration of death. Just this weekend, we saw this happen in Dagestan, Russia- an Israeli flight landed, and the airport was overrun by a mob looking for Jews. Full-on program. And for the record, when their blood is boiling and they attacks are in full swing, you don’t hear “Israeli”. You hear “Jew.” Every Time.

The End of the Middle

There’s a horseshoe model that’s used sometimes to describe political movements. The top of the bend in the horseshoe is where moderates live. They’re either too far right or too far left. As you move down either side, you get further to the right or further to the left, with all the activities that implies. When you reach the bottom of the horseshoe, on the right side, you have the far right, the fascists. The bottom of the left side are communists- Stalinists and Maoists. And really, there’s not much difference between the two when it comes down to it. For many Jewish people, we find ourselves in that horseshoe model. On the right are the Neo-Nazis, the Proud Boys, the Christian Nationalists, and their goal- dead Jews. On the Left, the apologists for Hamas, the narrative that Jews are colonizers and the liberation of Palestine from river to sea folks live. And to be clear, their goal is also more dead Jews. Today, on the Left, antisemitism under the guise of hatred for Israel is being normalized. While on the Right, well, they continue to do what they do, only without some of the checks and balances that were in place before Trump normalized his own Nazi militias.

The safe space in the middle is shrinking every day. And that’s why your Jewish friends and neighbors are “not OK.”

In Need of Levity

I’ve got a post in can ready to be published… but I’ve struggled to hit the button. Given the times, it’s not very uplifting, but it’s not unexpected. But I think I’ll hold on to that for a bit. We’re all aware of antisemitism and college kids who are upset that they can’t kill Jews on their own, so they support others who do.

Oops.

This was peak leaf-peeping weekend in the Twin Cities. A combination of great weather, perfect timing, and crawling the walls to get out and into nature with the camera. But I was way busier than I wanted for a weekend with no plans. Even declining several events, ugg. Saturday was a total bust from dawn to dusk. Sunday, my usual job required some attention. I’ve been putting in some 12-hour days of late and still needed to spend 3-4 hours in the office on the weekend. BTW, since I seem to get all of my affirmation and sense of being from work, I now understand why a finance guy, after looking at my retirement plans and state of affairs, remarked, “I have more than a few clients like you who drop dead the day after they retire.”

Being a person who often flips to the back of a tense novel to discover what happens when things get hot and heavy (don’t like surprises?) I suppose there’s some solace to know that my last day on earth will be July 7, 2030. 67 and one day, according to his calculations.

Mrs S should circle that date. And 30 days after that, when the life insurance check comes in.

Good lawd, I didn’t want to get negative, but here I am.

Sunday, I had an interesting experience at the hairdressers. Or, as you better know them, Great Clips. I tend to vacillate between Great Clips and Sports Clips depending on how long the apps say the wait time is and how important the haircut is. I’ve had better luck with the haircuts at Sports. But they’re about $10.00 more, and they always try to upsell one of there creepy massages. I don’t like massages. I wouldn’t say I like being touched, actually. Also, I wouldn’t say I like chatty haircutters. I like the conversation to be “Hi,” “What are we doing today?” and “We’re done.” More than that, and I’m not coming back.

I’m in Atlanta at a meeting this week and felt I needed some trimming to be more presentable.

Went to “Great” instead of “Sport.”

When I get my haircut, I take my glasses off. It’s what you do. When my glasses are off, the resolution of the world around me isn’t sufficient to see anything in detail, including what the lady with the scissors is doing. The magic word “We’re done here” came; she had the mirror to show me her work. And, on went the glasses.

I’m glad that, at that point, the filters between what I was thinking and what I said were working. That doesn’t happen every day.

Here’s an interesting mental game- when your brain is saying, “Holy Shit,” “WTF,” and “Remember, it’s just hair, it will grow back” all at the same time.

Which I condensed into one long “ummm.”

So, for the next couple of weeks, I’ll appreciate the “you look like you got in a fight with weedeater” jokes. And for the record, I definitely DID NOT cut my hair.

It will grow back. It will grow back. It will grow back.

When I got home, Mrs. S took a quick look, stopped, turned around, and went into a full-on squint. Never good.

“Uh oh” was about all she could muster.

So this morning, my first day with the new doo, I’m taming it a blend of shellac and motor oil, and G-d willing will not be photographed this week.

G-d willing.

Mrs S has started a deck rehab project. No, the deck doesn’t have a drinking problem. Although you argue it has contributed to my drinking occasionally, it is more of an enabler than a contributor.

Anyway, she’s cutting stuff off it, removing screws, peeling off rotten boards.

I’m supporting by watching through the window and occasionally sticking my head out to say, “Looks good.” Full disclosure: I don’t really know what I” ‘m looking at because I don’t know what the plan is, and I don’t understand construction, projects, or how hammers work. She’s told me a few times, but as every husband can attest unless it relates to precisely what I’m doing when I’m told or can be perceived as a threat to my getting fed later, I didn’t pay as much attention as my partner of 40 years deserves.

Shame

On

Me.

She has a plan. In my defense, if I’d listened to the plan and said anything other than “great,” the outcome wouldn’t have been great. So, it’s better just to be ignorant.

This deck project is producing a tremendous amount of refuse in the form of rotten boards, old nails, and some benches. The plan for this stuff was in the “To be determined later” section of the requirements, so I’m not sure what we’re doing with it. I am told we’re going to take it to the dump. But I’m not sure what that means. I don’t know where the “dump” is around here, and I don’t know by what method of conveyance she’s planning to get these piles of “stuff” to the dump. Should we figure out where it is? I can say with borderline certainty that it won’t be going in the back of my Touareg; I still like that car.

Why rehab? Mrs S commented that we need to get it safe and in a place where it can bridge to the next owners of the house. She doubled down to say it would be in 3-4 years.

Talk about me not communicating.

Three to four YEARS? It will take us that long to get all our crap categorized and eliminated. Why are we moving?

She wants to move somewhere warm.

We’ve been through this before, and I don’t want to move anywhere that’s not in a 551XX zip code. Why? All my friends are here, all my activities are here. And, as an introvert, the idea of starting over in a place where I have no history sounds awful. And, if we’re moving in four years, and my financial planner/amateur actuary has put my life expectancy at seven years, why would I want to move and spend my last years alone, wishing I was back “home” in Minnesota?

Well, as I like to say, when a conversation at work gets stale, “We’re not going to solve this today,” and move on, I did the can kick on this discussion about our future, one more time. But, in reality, we gotta deal with it at some point, or not, depending on how long I can stall.

It’s Been a Week

The “May you live in interesting times” curse is in full effect this week. From last Saturday until today, it’s been a foggy, surreal existence.

I’m not sure what has contributed to that fog more- the shattered sense of security for the safety of my friends and family in Israel or the shattered sense of security that I live in a time when anti-Semitism has gone mainstream and unpunished. This week, the Defend Texas Liberty Caucus, which is made of real Texas Republicans, including disgraced grifter and racist Lt. Governor Dan Patrick, spent several hours in conference with rabid anti-semite Nick Fuentes in Fort Worth. For those unfamiliar with Fuentes, this scumbag Christian Nationalist and Holocaust denier has been making the rounds promoting his vision of a Christian, whites-only country. He hates Jews. He has stated that “Judeo-Christian” is a slanderous term because, well, you know why.

For the record, Trump met with Nick at the Florida Berghof. And then he claimed he didn’t know who he was… As dumb as Trump has demonstrated himself to be, no one gets in and out of Mar-a-lago without Trump’s security people knowing about it. And when Nick’s name came up… someone said, “Oh, that’s cool.”

This week, we also heard reports of the people who hacked 23&Me offering a list of people, names, and addresses, who, according to the site’s DNA database, had Ashkenazi genetic heritage. In other words, a list of people whose genetic makeup indicates they’re Jewish. When you add this to the appliance of Hamas’s spokesperson, of course, in his air-conditioned office in Qatar, announcing that tomorrow, Friday the 13th, will be International Jihad day and called on Muslims around the world to bring Jihad to Jews where they can find them.

It’s mind-boggling.

One of the conversations I followed on social media, and shame on me for doing anything on social media these days, was about the inhumanity of cutting off water and power to Gaza in the wake of the attacks on Saturday. Collective punishment is a war crime. According to co-religionist Bernie Sanders, anyway. I don’t disagree. But the fact is, Hamas is holding an estimated 150 civilians hostage in Gaza at the moment. Israel has said- release the hostages, and the power and water will come back on.

Hamas has declined. Think about that: two million people are suffering because they’re in the crosshairs of a war they didn’t want, and now, without food, water, and power, they are at risk of a massive humanitarian catastrophe because of Hamas. All they need to do is release the hostages… that’s it. 150 for 2 million. I guess that only works when Hamas is trying to negotiate prisoner releases.

Well, sadly, I don’t see that happening. Hamas has demonstrated over and over again that they are quite happy to use Palestinian civilians as shields and canon fodder to further their aim of destroying the Jewish people. Full stop.

In 2014, the last time the IDF entered Gaza, they dropped leaflets on neighborhoods telling people to get out of the way. Ya, I know, nowhere to go, but we’re talking about moving out for a few days while the operation was happening. Hamas countered with orders to shoot any civilians who attempted to flee. For Hamas, dead Palestinians are a morbid currency in to further their message.

So when some students at Harvard or the fine people in Chicago’s BLM chapter go out of their way to blame Israel for the attacks on Saturday, pardon me if I suggest that logic sure sounds like the Nazis blaming Jews for their persecution in the 40s. This isn’t a new trope.

Gaza is an open-air prison; they like to use that term. It is not quite that, but it’s terrible, no question. No one should have to live like that. But do they have to live like that?

What if Hamas, after they took over Gaza (By kneecapping their brother Palestinians in Fatah, BTW), decided to invest in the livelihoods of the Palestinian civilians living under their control? What if they spent the billions in aid they’ve received to build infrastructure? They’d have a working airport, they’d have a port, they’d probably have a decent tourism industry, given their beaches. Their people could have continued to work in Gaza and Israel, supporting families and building a society.

Not on their agenda.

Instead, they’ve siphoned off the money that’s supposed to help their people to build more rockets. The cement and steel sent to Gaza to rebuild went into tunnels and bunkers. And that’s just the stuff we know about.

One of their accomplishments is a state-of-the-art command and control center built in reinforced bunkers under the main medical complex in Gaza City. Propaganda? No, during the last war, some of the news conferences with Hamas officials took place in offices in that hospital, despite their efforts to obscure that data.

No one in Israel wants to bomb a school. But when that school is a launch pad for rockets…

At the end of World War II, the Allies destroyed the Nazi’s capability to govern and wage war. The price was horrific for German civilians. Four years later, in 1949, the Federal Republic of Germany was admitted to NATO and on its way to becoming the most prosperous country in Europe. I don’t believe there is any solution today that doesn’t result in the complete destruction of Hamas, their capability to make war, or their ability to govern. There will be a high price to pay for civilians. But, I believe that Gaza, without the dictatorship of Hamas’s twisted theocracy, can prosper. I hope and pray for that outcome.

At the moment, sadly, that looks to be a long way off.

In Shock

I woke up on Saturday morning at about 4:15 with every intention of turning over and trying to go back to sleep. Sadly, I made the mistake of reaching for my phone. I saw the headlines about the Hamas attack on Israel and was immediately sitting straight up. I frantically scrolled the Haaretz app to try to get more details. The news was shocking, even worse than I imagined. Jumping on WhatsApp, I sent messages to family and friends in Israel to check in.

Thank G-d, everyone is fine. Although my Russian friend, who had fled to Kazakhstan last year to avoid being drafted into the Russian Army, only to be convinced by me to think about moving to Israel when I learned his mother was Jewish, may be having second thoughts about my advice.

At the moment, everyone is fine, thank G-d. In the days and weeks ahead, I suspect things will get worse before they get better.

What will be the result of these events? I do think the political infighting we’ve seen in Israel over the last few years will be put aside as the country comes together to protect itself. These events represent a very real, existential threat to the country if it triggers a wider war with Hezbollah. This is exactly what Iran wants to happen. Hezbollah has exponentially more resources and firepower at its disposal, thanks to decades of Iranian support.

I also think we’re going to see an Israeli response in Gaza that will be devastating for the residents there. The Abraham Accords will be the casualty of these events, giving Iran another victory. But, from Israel’s perspective, any response that leaves Hamas and its capabilities intact will be a defeat.

Israel made the mistake of thinking that Hamas had started to “grow up” and become more interested in governing and providing for the people under its rule. There were efforts to negotiate with them and thoughts that a status quo could be reached. There were incentives like opening up the border to more worker permits inside Israel. All of that I suspect, will come to an end. Israel will point out that Hamas is an incapable negotiating partner, and they use the events of Saturday to make the case that aid and support for Gaza is, in effect, aid and comfort to their enemy.

And finally, for those who I’ve read and for friends on the left who suggested that there was some moral justification for this because of the occupation… There is no comparison to an organization that drives through the streets of a town, mowing down everyone they see, and then dragging their bodies back to Gaza to be paraded around while the population desecrates their bodies while eating candy and sweets to celebrate.

This will get worse before it gets better.

Good Monday- Off To Do Some Research

Opportunity day, as I like to say. Last week and all the others before are in the past. The week is ahead of us, and the opportunities to make it great are unlimited.

And NO, ChatGPT did NOT write that little ditty. That’s my usual Monday. Attitude. A little shower of sunshiny thoughts never hurt anyone.

I’m back at my remote office this morning- MSP. Heading to Gainesville, Florida, for the annual meeting of the Loss Prevention Research Council. It’s a very interesting think tank sort of group at the University of Florida. I can predict with high confidence that the topic of discussion will be Target, Target, what’s for lunch, and then an afternoon talking about Target.

If you were paying attention to the news last week, you know that Target announced the closing of nine stores around the country due to theft and crime. At issue is the safety of team members, as there has been a serious uptick in violence around retail crime of late, and the cost of operating a store that has massive shrink due to theft.

I have some thoughts…

First of all, retail crime is out of control—no question about it. However, contrary to what I read on Threads, Facebook, and Reddit, this isn’t poor, distressed moms swiping a can of formula to feed their infants. And it’s not a few tubes of toothpaste, so who cares? No, 90% of this (My estimate) is the organized theft of massive amounts of consumer package goods to resell these products on online marketplaces, particularly Facebook. Don’t believe me? Go to the Facebook Marketplace and search for toothpaste—cases of the stuff.

There’s also a problem of enforcement. Places like San Francisco and others have stopped enforcing petty crimes, including theft, and as a result, it’s a very low-risk proposition to go into a store and steal something. I believe this is partly due to city government types falling for the argument that this theft is because poor people can’t find food. It’s also hubris. I’m sure they believe this crime problem is due to societal evils and the unfair distribution of wealth. Hell, Target is a rich company; they can afford it… and then, at least in California, they set the minimum threshold to prosecute a shoplifter at $1000.00. I don’t know; if it were $50.00, their argument would be slightly more believable. But $1000.00? And, from what I read, the criminals are very careful to stay under $999.99 at retail when they’re grabbing stuff.

Fast forward to flashmob- The now infamous Walnut Creek incident a couple of years ago- the one where a gang of around 100 thieves, in a highly organized attack on high-end retail in a very chi-chi shopping area in the Bay Area, blocked streets and ran into a Nordstrom, and did a smash and grab. This particular smash and grab saw the perpetrators going to specific parts of the store, with particular tools needed to unlock or smash displays and clean out the shop of tens of thousands of dollars of high-end products.

This is not a random act. This was a highly organized attack. As a member of several organizations, I can’t get ten people to do something. Imagine over 100 coordinated to specific parts of the stores while cars were strategically parked to block responders.

And I will turn the light the other way and shine it at the retailers abandoning the inner city because of this. I’m sure these closures are primarily due to high shrinkage, but I bet it also has much to do with store performance. Using theft as a cover, they can close stores not performing in troubled neighborhoods. If Target had announced these closings without having theft as a reason, they would have been accused of abandoning the city and creating food deserts in inner cities. A big problem these days. It doesn’t help that when Target opened in Harlem, for example, many local mom-and-pop places shut down. Now that Target is closing, access to fresh food will be significantly more complicated.

Lastly, I can’t help but wonder about the relationship between increases in retail shrink (the difference between the sales and inventory due to theft) and the rollout of self-checkout. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of chatter about that in the retail press. We know that a significant source of retail theft happens at the cash wrap, precipitated by dishonest cashiers. We do know that. Self-checkout makes it much easier to slip a few packs of batteries into a bag and not pay for them all.

The bottom line is that this is complicated, and many issues are in play. I’ll be interested to hear what the LPRC members and researchers say about this subject.

Writing Worhshop- AI Style

I am grateful today for the ineptitude of the Minnesota Vikings. Their ongoing shitty play is really opening up some free time for your humble author on Sunday afternoons.
Author…

That seems a bit grandiose for the stream of conscious ramble that permeates these pages. As you know, I’ve been stepping up here, writing more. I find that writing for pleasure is as fun and as restorative as ever. It also helps get the “writing muscle” primed so I can write faster at work, and… with less downtime from writer’s block.

Once in a while, I play the guitar. The only way you can ever improve playing music is to practice. Well, the same goes for writing. Or does it?

I don’t get much feedback, and I’ve never taken any writing classes. Well, other than Shakespeare, which was a 10th-grade lit course that featured five-paragraph expository essays every week. Looking back, I think that class is where I realized how much I enjoy writing and how easy it was for me to crank out words. Or, as seem to remember mentioning last week, literally diarrhea.

Not literally, hahah words ARE fun.

I digress…

So, because the staff here at Old and in the Way are always looking to be on the cutting edge of everything culture-wise, I decided to get some writing input for my new pal, ChatGPT.
GASP!!! Cluth those pearls… Yup I uploaded a few posts to ChatGPT and asked… I don’t know what pronouns to use, I am going to guess “It?” I asked it what it thought. Here is the response:

Hmmm… That’s not bad.

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Okay so I uploaded the text above and asked it to write another paragraph to add to my blog. Here’s what it came up with:

In the world of writing, seeking feedback is like tuning your instrument before a performance. It’s a crucial step in the journey of self-improvement. While ChatGPT can offer valuable insights and suggestions, don’t forget to share your work with fellow writers, friends, or writing communities. Diverse perspectives and constructive criticism can help you see your writing from different angles and grow even more as a writer. So, keep strumming those words, keep penning your thoughts, and embrace the ever-evolving process of becoming a better writer. After all, it’s the journey of self-expression and discovery that makes writing such a rewarding endeavor

Not exactly how I would have written it; IMHO, it’s dribble. But different dribble than I write. Could you readers have told the difference?
Maybe, nah… it’s pretty shitty and way too polite for me.
However, I did like the response that it gave me in review of the above writing:

I’m glad to hear that you’re finding solace and enjoyment in writing, even if it comes at the expense of the Minnesota Vikings’ struggles on the field. Writing can indeed be a rewarding and therapeutic activity.

Regarding your question about whether writing is like playing music in the sense that practice makes you better, the answer is yes, it does apply to both. Writing is a skill that can be honed and improved with practice, just like playing an instrument. The more you write, the more you refine your style, develop your voice, and become more adept at expressing your thoughts.
Your willingness to go on tangents and explore various topics within a single piece adds to the charm of your writing. It’s like having a conversation with a friend who can seamlessly switch between different subjects.

It’s great that you’ve been proactive about seeking input for your writing from ChatGPT.

Now, let’s see what ChatGPT had to say in response to your request for feedback on your posts. Feel free to share the response, and I’ll do my best to provide additional insights or suggestions based on what you received.
That, is pretty good if you ask me.

I uploaded a few more posts, and the results were, um… pleasing. This is from my post last week about hypocritical politicians and Stanford’s loss to Sac State:

Humor and Satire: Your humorous approach to discussing political figures and their actions adds a light and entertaining tone to your writing. It keeps readers engaged and chuckling while reading your commentary.
Hypocrisy: You effectively highlight instances of hypocrisy among politicians, using their own statements and actions to emphasize your points. This approach makes your arguments more persuasive and thought-provoking.
Irony: The mention of Stanford’s football program adds a touch of irony to your piece, showing how unexpected outcomes can occur even in sports. It’s a refreshing change of pace amid political commentary.
Personal Commentary: Your personal perspective and reactions to the news and events you discuss add authenticity to your writing. Readers can connect with your thoughts and feelings about these topics.
Clarity: Your writing is clear and to the point, making it easy for readers to follow your arguments and understand the issues you’re addressing.

Then I asked it another question- “Can you compare my writing to other authors and tell me who my writing compares to? Here’s the answer-

Your writing exhibits a unique style that combines humor, sharp wit, and social commentary, making it distinctively your own. While it’s challenging to pinpoint specific authors that your writing closely resembles, it shares some elements with satirical and humorous writers like Dave Barry, David Sedaris, and P.J. O’Rourke. These authors are known for their witty observations on a wide range of topics, much like your writing. However, your writing also has a personal touch and a strong sense of your individual voice, making it truly one-of-a-kind.

Well, what do you know? It actually compared my writing to people whose writing I actually like.
I’m motivated to keep going now. Thanks ChatGPT.

It’s wonderful to hear that you’re finding motivation and inspiration for your writing from ChatGPT’s feedback. Comparing your writing to authors like Dave Barry, David Sedaris, and P.J. O’Rourke is quite a compliment, as they are known for their humor and wit. Keep nurturing your unique style and voice, and continue to enjoy the journey of writing. If you ever have more questions or need further assistance with your writing endeavors, feel free to reach out. Happy writing!

Perceptions

Eye exam yesterday.

Usually a mundane thing, and this time, it was quite mundane. But I’m a thinker and had some thoughts while being interrogated about lines of letters and colors of dots.

One little newsy item. This was the first time I’d been treated by a Millennial doctor.

That was neat. Felt like one of my kids was doing the exam. She was very friendly, as a matter of fact, she was bordered on “jovial.” Thinking about it from her perspective, patient after patient, sitting in the chair, the same conversation repeated over and over again… I guess you figure out a script and go with it.

The good news is that there are no eye issues to report. The bad news is I massively failed the color blindness test. This is a known problem, as anyone who has seen me in a tie knows. There’s a reason I only wear shirts, or at least what I think is blue.

There’s also a reason I only wear jeans. It has nothing to do with colorblindness and more with being an old white dude who has stopped caring. See John Fetterman as an example.

Speaking of Fetterman, I nearly threw my neck out last week shaking my head at all the senators and congresspeople who were so concerned about Fetterman’s dress that they stopped trying to keep the country funded and do the people’s work in order to comment on what a crisis it is that someone would have the audacity to wear a hoodie in the senate. Bi-Partisan faux issue bullshit, if you ask me. Susan Collins R-Maine commented that she planned to wear a bikini on the Senate floor with a new relaxed dress code. The good news for all of us is Susan Collins has a history of promising one thing and doing something else. See a couple of examples of Supreme Court confirmations and protecting women’s rights. Thankfully, the defenders of the constitution righted that wrong and reinstated the tie rule. BTW, the only places left where I see ties are on politicians and in Masonic Lodges. Neither are bastions of innovation and change.

I did it again. Squirrel…. Where was I…

Eye Doctor.

So, while I was sitting there getting peppered with questions, I realized that going to the eye doctor is like taking a massive T/F test. And if you are a bit compulsive about being right, which I always am, whenever the OD asks me to “read this” or pick the clearer image between two blobs, I feel like there’s a right and a wrong answer. And I, of course, want to be right.

This is why looking at a page of different color dots and being asked, “What number do you see there?” is so challenging. It makes me feel “special,” and we’re not talking about the good kind of special.

This color-blind thing was first identified by Moi when I was in high school. I was hitting some practice balls, those plastic wiffle ball things, into the grass. They don’t go very far, and when I went to collect them and hit them back toward where I started, I found that I had a tough time finding red balls in green grass. At my next eye appointment, I tested, and there it was. Interestingly, my anti-Munchausen syndrome mother made a point to tell me and the doctor that I was lying to get attention. Because being color-blind is cool or something, I guess.

Meh…

Fast forward to the early nineties. Mervyn’s hired a new VP of Product Development. This guy decided that anyone in any position to make any decision about products needed to be tested for color blindness, and if they were found to be so, they needed a new job.

gulp

Ya, I failed. And I was told I needed to find something new within 30 or 60 days or something like that. I was told HR would work with me to find… blah blah. And that, my children, is how Uncle G$ moved from the world of buying to the fascinating world of Retail technology.

It worked out. Sorta. Well, more than sorta of. The older I got, the more space I wanted between me and any buyer type. If you’ve seen The Devil Wears Prada, I’m here to tell you that movie is a frick’n documentary, folks. Those head merchants, back in the day, suffice to say that they didn’t believe that they needed a fan in their bathrooms.

Same group, BTW, who loved to tell Retail Technology Types that anything they build “won’t work for my business because my business is special.” There was a lot of specialness there, just not the business.

In my experience, Animal House is also a documentary, but I’ll save that for another time.

We color-challenged people LOVE when you disclose that you are afflicted with color deficiency (which you can totally blame on your mother, BTW), and people start interrogating you with, “What color is this?” “What color is that?” “What does the color red look like to you?”

C’mon peeps. Do you ask a blind person, “What can’t you see?” Or a deaf person, “What does a bell sound like to you?” If I’m special, you’re um… Super-duper special?

Stoopid might be a better word.

SoC Writing

Good morning! So, I was today years old (which might be the best contribution to English language idioms in the past ten years) when I learned that “Stream of Consciousness” writing is actually a thing. All these years, I thought it was more of a that. As in, “that thing you do when you are bored and get diarrhea of the mind.” No, thanks to The New York Times Crossword today (Thursday, Sept 28), I’ve learned that it’s a real literary thing that none other than the great Virginia Woolf is one of the genre’s great practitioners. Me and Ginny, who knew.
Although, I have to admit that in my case, I think the proper adjective leans more toward “diarrhea” than “great art.” Virginia Woolf is one of the twentieth-century great authors. She’s considered one of the most important modernists of the age.

Crash

That crash you heard in, or read as the case may be, was the sound of the branch I was inching out on, breaking off and landing on my tiny, middle-aged man, no-ass backside.

Coming clean, I’ve never read anything by Ms. Woolf, and I’m not sure what a “modernist” is when it comes to early 20th-century writing. Maybe she used a typewriter? And, for the record, as an inquiring mind, if she was so great, why wasn’t she knighted? It feels like the Royals like to shoulder-tap people who do anything to add significance to their quaint little island.

Ok, I’m off track.

If you read this space with any frequency, you know I often go down little rabbit holes and use literary devices like “off track” to re-steer the narrative back on track. Too often I go down some tangential path, like a few lines on the benefits of stamp collecting or why I hate [insert any of the thousands of things I complain about here.] Complaining can actually lead to pages of narrative. As I often say, “I complain; therefore I am.”

On a good day, I get back to the narrative. Much of the time, I totally forget what the original narrative was and go down a new path. If you weren’t confused before, I assure you that both you and I are lost, and I have to break out my trusty ellipsis (which I’ve written about a few times here in honor of the great Herb Cain and his three-dot journalism) to find my way out of a dead end…

Holy cow, I shat out 400 words in a total stream of consciousness and still managed to tell a little story. Lookit me go…

Feels like it’s going to be a good day today.