True confession: I was a devious licker!

There's a trend sweeping the nation, or the high school division of it anyway, in which kids are stealing objects from their schools, or committing outright acts of vandalism, and - what else - posting vids of their actions on TikTok. #DeviousLicks

The ur video, from what I gather, was of some kid filching a box of face masks. (Or was it a hand sanitizer dispenser.)

Now, if this kid was "licking" - and I take it "lick" is current slang for ripping something or someone off - the only box of face masks that their school needed to prevent the spread of covid, and was destroying it, that's one thing. 

But what if they were just taking it temporarily to annoy the assistant principal or school nurse? And returned it to its rightful owner? Or left it out someplace where it could be found?

Sure it's annoying, but - from a high schooler's perspective - it's funny. BFD.

Anyway, the ur TikTok, posted just a few weeks ago, quickly went viral and got with millions of views. And once something is viral... All of a sudden, it's a challenge, and there are a rash of kids posting videos of their deviance. #DeviousLicks.

Some of the incidents were pretty minor. Plenty of them were fake: a kid stealing her own microscope; another one pretending to clip a school Chromebook, only to put it back immediately.

Inevitably, things escalated. Box of masks? Hand sanitizer? So yesterday. Inevitably, some kids spun out of control. Not just - ho-ho - removing all the TP from the boys room, but ripping out soap dispensers, urinals, sinks, stall doors. And causing tremendous amounts of damage.

A 14-year old girl in my home town of Worcester was arrested for (allegedly) vandalizing a bathroom in her school, and then assaulting two teachers once she was caught. Six kids in a school in Florida were arrested for causing $2K worth of damage. Schools pretty much everywhere are reporting that their kids have gotten in on the act.

Meanwhile, TikTok removed the hashtag.

Kids do stupid things. Remember the Tide Pod Challenge, in which teenagers swallowed poisonous Tide Pods? Some ended up in the ER and had to have their stomachs pumped out. A few reportedly died. 

And now, this. No one's dead. At least so far. But it's easy to imagine that if this keeps up, kids will try to outdo the latest. And someone'll pull a stunt that's truly dangerous. 

Still, damage costs running into the thousands? Hitting a teacher? NOT GOOD.

Hysteria is, of course, on the rise about this trend. Punishers, moralizers, end of the world-ers. Sure, it's terrible. And the kids who committed acts of vandalism need to be held accountable for the damage they've done: financial payback - and I'd make the kids pay, not their parents - community service, etc. (Not a criminal record, however, unless they're repeat performers.) But anyone who "stole" something - like Mr. Bingham's stapler or the clock from the music room - and returned it unharmed, I'd let completely off the hook.

Maybe I'm just a lax liberal, but I can't see ruining a kid's life because they got caught up in a stupid social media moment and went a little wild. 

And maybe it's because I did a couple of dopey things in my time.

I never vandalized anything. And I never permanently stole stuff from my school, either. But in college - not even high school; I was in college! - I did deviously lick off with things a couple of times. (My little devious licks were a break from my political involvement, which in college began with campaigning for Gene McCarthy and picketing stores that carried non-union grapes, and moved on up to anti-war protests and demonstrating for reforms at the way the college went about a lot of things. Anyway, I was always into a bit of guerrilla theater. I wore my sisters Girl Scout badge sash to a meeting with the school's Board of Trustees. Long crazy story.)

I went to a Catholic women's college, and the halls and classrooms were full of statues and crucifixes. We all considered it ultra-old school, and did plenty of eye-rolling. And one year, a friend and I decided to remove a good-sized statue of the BVM (that's Blesse Virgin Mary to you, you pagan) from the administration building and transport it to our dorm. We smuggled it out under my friends green maxi-raincoat, right past a security guard. "Art project," we told him. He just nodded.

We presented the statue to another friend, who kept it in her room for the year, surrounding it with peacock feathers, a glow-in-the-dark rosary draped over the statue's folded hands. 

At the end of the school year, when the dorms emptied out, the BVM was left behind. Presumably, someone brought it back where it belonged.

More seriously (I guess), the same friend and I removed the Valentine's Day decorations that had been put up in the dining hall.

My college had the absolute worst food you can imagine. No dorm was more than a two minute walk from the cafeteria, but they had to start posting the menus in the dorms because too many of the students would call ahead to see whether the two minute walk was worth it.

We named the meals: Charles River Scum (some sort of fetid fish dish). Abortion (can't remember if this was lasagna or eggplant parm). Puck (any one of of a number of hard desiccated brown meats). Just inedible.

All we wanted was a salad bar, and cold cereal on offer at all meals, but for some reason they dug their heals in.

Then all these Valentine's Day decorations showed up. Cutesy signs all over the place, and a giant crepe paper heart dangling from the ceiling, gracing the dining room.

That did it. No money for a salad bar? A tiny box of cornflakes? But money for nonsense decorations?

We'd had it.

For some reason, we found the door to the caf open - we never would have broken in - and decided to take those decorations into our own hands. I still remember standing on a table, in the dark, using a window pole to get that giant crepe heart down. 

The next day, there was a sign posted about the nasty girls who had "spoiled the fun for everyone", and claiming that Mrs. W., the nutritionist - some nutritionist: she hadn't been able to get us a salad bar! - had paid for the decorations out of her own pocket. By lunch, that part of the sign had been cut off. Of course, she hadn't paid out of her own pocket. That was our money. 

We didn't destroy the decorations. We left them out in a place where they could be found. (Good thing there were no security cameras back in the day, eh?) But I don't think they were ever put back up. 

Post hoc ergo propter hoc? Maybe. The school did put in a salad bar. 

(Times have changed. I'm on a committee at my college that runs a social justice lecture series and, pre-covid, we'd convene at the school a few times a year. Sometimes, we'd eat in the dining hall. And the food's pretty good. The salad bar, compared to what we were hungering for, is just dazzling.)

Anyway, as something of a devious licker myself, I can be a very understanding and forgiving of the TikTok kids who are stealing/not really stealing random objects. Been there, done that. However, I would kick the ass (metaphorically, anyway) of the vandals. But I still wouldn't end them up with a record. (Striking a teacher? That kid needs help. Apparently, she was overwrought at having been caught and lashed out at some teachers who were trying to calm her down.) 

And thus ends my true confession for the day.

As we used to say, mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. 

Does Ford really have a better idea?

I'm pretty sure that Alexandra Ford English is a plenty smart cookie, even by plenty smart cookie standards. After all, she went to Stanford and majored in biology, focusing on "the neurobiology and physiology of human behavior." And she's a Harvard B School MBA. (Not that these august institutions don't accept and graduate plenty of duds. It's just that, for the most part, even the duds do tend to be plenty smart cookie duds. For the most part.)

So Ms. English could probably have had a plenty impressive career putting that knowledge of "the neurobiology and physiology of human behavior" to good use pretty much anywhere in the corporate world.

But, seriously, how could she resist joining the family business, founded by her great-great-grandfather Henry Ford. (And however virulent an anti-Semite Ford was, I'm pretty sure he was a plenty smart cookie.)

And now, she's

...been tapped to lead an effort to expand the family brand once harnessed by Versace to sell $1,135 hoodies, the automaker announced Monday. (Source: Detroit Free Press)

And it wasn't just $1,135 Versace hoodies that proudly sported the Ford logo. There were the logo jeans that went for more than $1K. And the $750 logo shirt. Worn, of course, with a pair of $700 hightop sneakers. 

But Alexandra Ford English has a bigger, maybe even a better idea for how to get "consumers to connect with the brand."

“Anywhere you go around the world, you find passionate Ford fans and we want to offer them an inspiring collection of merchandise and accessories, and potentially even digital products,” English said in a statement.

Suzy Deering, global chief marketing officer, said Ford is a brand built on consumer passion. “We’re expanding that pride to all aspects of a customers’ life; we’re becoming a lifestyle brand.”

In fact, the success of the Versace Ford line turned out to be a nice bit of consumer research. If Ford passionista fashionistas were willing to pay Versace a boatload, of which Ford only got the chump change, why can't Ford cash in on demand. I can't see that they can command Versace level money. I suspect people buying those pricey hightops were paying for the Versace name. And that the Ford logo was mostly for the irony. (C.f., "poor man drives a Ford.") But maybe Ford can go beyond the logo caps and sweatshirts that they've been selling for what a normal person would pay for a non-logo cap or sweatshirt. 

Lifestyle brand, here we come!

Well, actually not here me come. 

Not that I've got anything against the Ford Motor Company.

When I was a kid, there was a little ditty (referenced above) we all sang:

Rich man drives a Cadillac, poor man drives a Ford
But my old man goes drives the street with 4 wheels on a board

Well, my family wasn't poor, but my father always drove Fords. Every two years, like clockwork, he got a new Ford - at first they were Fairlanes, then Galaxies. Two-tone green. Bright blue and white. Yellow and white. Just plain white. Black. Green. Gold. 

(After my father died - the gold Galaxy was his final car - my mother switched to Oldsmobile. A brand that no longer exists.)

Of the three cars I've owned in my life - yes, I am a city girl - one was a Ford. A Mercury Tracer.

But for all my fond memories of Dad's Fords, and my having been perfectly satisfied with my Tracer, I can't imagine wanting anything with the Ford logo on it. 

Not that I'm totally averse to acquiring a bit of car-related "stuff." One of my three cars was a New Beetle, and I have a few Christmas ornaments that are Santa in a Beetle themed.

I'm sure if I'd ever had a Ford Mustang, or a Ford 150, I'd have at least one Mustang or F150 Christmas ornament. 

My lack of interest in jumping on the Ford lifestyle brandwagon is probably a combo of my not being a car person, and being mostly lacking in the sort of passion about much of anything that would get me to wear a company's logo.

Oh, I've had plenty of corporate logo-wear over the years, but I only wore it if I had to. Like at a tradeshow. If there were no must-wear requirements, I'd take whatever was on offer and give it to my husband, who was happy to take it. (That yellow rain jacket he loved? From Genuity. So was the very nice grey, heavy-duty long-sleeved polo shirt. And a lot of other stuff.)

Personally, if any company wanted me to wear their logo, i.e., provide them with free advertising, they should give it to me.

I'm thinking of L.L. Bean here.

My "relationship" with L.L. Bean goes back nearly 50 years. When I camped cross-country in 1972, I slept under an L.L. Bean tent. The next year, when I camped throughout Europe, I once again slept under that L.L. Bean tent. Over the years, I've spent plenty of money at L.L. Bean: parkas, jeans, tee-shirts, jackets, sweaters, turtlenecks, chinos, shorts, bathing suits, fleeces, Christmas presents. And I know that L.L. Bean sells tee-shirts, sweatshirts, and caps that scream L.L. Bean. In a large, prominent, upfront font. No way! If you want me to wear it, send it along as a thankyou.

It's one thing to wear something that tells the world that you're a fan of, say, the Red Sox. Or that you went to State U. Or that you support a certain candidate. (Red MAGA cap: gag!) Or that you've been to one of Elton John's kabillion farewell concerts. Or that you've been someplace, or your grandmother was, and have the tee-shirt to show for it. 

But to front for a commercial, corporate brand? 

I just don't get it. 

I do find it plenty interesting, sociologically speaking, that so many people are so brand-conscious. Brand proud! Brand passionate!

Huh?   

My skepticism aside, there's no doubt a market for Ford-themed stuff. And that Alexandra Ford English, plenty smart cookie that she is, can figure out a way to tap it. After all, she 

studied "the neurobiology and physiology of human behavior." 

It's just too bad that Ford doesn't seem to have a better idea.

LogMeIn goes all-in on the remote-centric workplace

The other day, I saw an article in The Boston Globe about a local tech company that's transitioning to a hybrid work culture, and that's leaning its balance more towards remote than in-person. One way in which this is being manifest at the company profiled is that, when they're now hiring new executives, they're no longer asking them to move to Boston. 

The company is LogMeIn, and I know them well.

For eight-and-a-half years (2008-2016), I did a ton of writing projects for them. Customer stories, web copy, brochures, data sheets, white papers, ebooks, webinar presentations. Lots of stuff, including vetting (and coaching) their customers to present at webinars. For a few years, they were the anchor tenant of my business, the client I could most rely on for a steady income stream as opposed to working on ad hoc projects. I had an @logmein email address I used to communicate with their customers, and at one point I was told that I personally knew more clients than anyone else in marketing. 

There were a few things I didn't like about LogMeIn, but mostly working with them was a terrific experience. The folks I worked with were great - I'm doing a project now at another company for someone I met at LogMeIn - and their customers loved them. Finding customers to kvell over them was easy. One of my first projects there was doing an extensive win-loss analysis that involved interviewing those both who chose LogMeIn and those who went with another vendor. Even those who'd gone with the competition were exceedingly positive about LogMeIn. I think we gave those who'd gone with us a LogMeIn shirt. But as an incentive to survey participants who had not picked us, we offered the option of an Apple Music Card or a free subscription to the home, consumer version of what at that time was LogMeIn's core product. Pretty much every one of those losses picked the LogMeIn product.

And I must, of course, mention that for years, LogMeIn kept my husband supplied in very nice logo'd polo shirts. I think he ended up with about a half dozen of them. Not to get too morbid, Jim was wearing a navy blue LogMeIn polo shirt when he died.

Originally, when I saw my clients up close and personal, which I did pretty regularly, I had to schlepp out to the suburbs. But then LogMeIn decided that they'd have more appeal to potential employees if they came in town. Now I could walk to their hip and happening offices in Boston's Fort Point (the old Leather District). Yay!

About five years ago, I called it quits there.

LogMeIn had merged with another company and was now requiring contractors to jump through all sorts of hoops, including dropping your fees by 15%. Whether your work is project or hourly based - and I worked on both bases - there's a pretty easy workaround for this. I.e., agree, ignore, adjust. But I wasn't interested in doing that. Plus I couldn't be bothered with the other hoops. And the person I was working with most closely had left the company. So I moved on, too.

But I've kept vague tabs on them, and they've come across my radar as supporters of St. Francis House, the day shelter I've been involved with for decades. (For many years, I was a board member. I recently left the board, but have continued my volunteer work there. Couldn't find a picture of a LogMeIn polo shirt, but did find a pic of some employees volunteering in the clothing department at St. Francis House.)

LogMeIn is well positioned for hybrid/working from home (WFH) they're makers of remote collaboration software. 

Funny, though, when I was working with them, even though their products supported it, and even though I wrote plenty of copy about how it was the wave of the future, they pretty much frowned on their employees WFH. An LOL if ever.

But now they're all in on - even when it comes to their most senior executives. 

Their just hired head of global sales is staying put in Chicago. Their chief revenue officer lives in George. Their chief marketing officer is in California; the head of information security is in Houston. And once the work-from-wherever policy clicked in big time during the pandemic, the head of human resources upped stakes and moved to California. The CFO is in New Jersey.

It's not just the bigwigs who are remote. Even when the pandemic dies out, LogMeIn will remain primarily a remote workplace. Very few employees are coming into the office five days a week, and the company wants to keep it that way. 

Even CEO Bill Wagner decided he hated the commute. He'll be coming in only two days a week. The company subleasing half of their workspace in Fort Point. (Wagner swears that this is not purely for cost savings reasons. It's actually what his employees want. And I believe him. If I were still working full time, I'd want some level of in-person - maybe two, maybe three days a week - but would be delighted to have work from home days the rest of the time.) 

Wagner acknowledges that a remote-centric workplace isn't 100% grand and glorious.

Sure, working remotely has its downsides, as anyone who has sat through a day’s worth of Zoom meetings knows. Wagner has to work harder to build relationships with new employees, regardless of where they sit in the corporate hierarchy. He makes it a point to talk with his five direct reports, all C-level executives, on a daily basis. Only one of them, chief product officer Paddy Srinivasan, lives in the Boston area. (Source: Boston Globe)

WFH will, of course, be good for the body and soul of commuters, not to mention the environment, if people aren't sitting in traffic hours a day every day of the week, cursing the ghost of Henry Ford. But it's not that great (as Wagner notes) when it comes to bringing new employees on board. Or for those who want to get out of the house, or who view in-person working as an important component of their social life. (I always did - up to a point.) Management by walking around is also important - and harder to do when you're in California and your reports are in Boston. I also think those who come into the office at least some of the time will find it easier to get recognition/promotion.

Still, working from home sure is where a lot of the white collar, professional-knowledge worker workplace is moving to. 

It'll be interesting to see what happens with the commercial real estate market. And even to the residential real estate market, especially in high cost areas like Boston, when people can live someplace cheaper and still "work in Boston." Not to mention the lunch places that are supported by office workers.

We really are in the brave new world on so many different fronts...

You know, the law really can be an ass

I've volunteered for years in a shelter that serves a population that is experiencing (or has experienced) homelessness. Some of the folks we work with are just plain poor. But many, perhaps most, of our guests are pretty much struggling with something on the list of predictable problems. Mental health issues. Substance abuse disorder. Recent incarceration. For many, it's a twofer; for others, it's the trifecta of all three. Layer on physical problems, which a lot of our guests have: the bad shoulder, the bad leg, the bad back; the lung problems, the diabetes. Because those on the lower rungs of the success ladder tend to have crappy health. And pretty much everyone who comes in through our doors has had some bad luck along the way. 

Whatever the reason, folks come to see us for breakfast, or lunch, or clothing, or a shower, help with their benefits, or companionship, or to make art in the art room, or for help with benefits, jobs, housing. 

If Joseph Sobolewski was a Boston guy rather than Pennsylvania guy, somewhere along the line he'd likely have drifted in. I probably would have signed him up for a shower, or put a slab of meatloaf on his tray, or found him a pair of pants. If I'd had a chance to chat with him a bit - and some folks like to chat - he might have told me a bit of his story. Or his version of his story. Which is, of course, how all of us tell our story. 

But I don't expect that I'll be seeing Joseph Sobolewski any time soon, which is too bad because I'd like to hear his story. He won't likely be up this way soon because Joseph Sobolewski, who is homeless, was confused about the price of a 20-ounce bottle of Mountain Drew. He put $2 down on the counter at an Exxon Station, thinking he was overpaying by by fifty cents - the sign read two for $3. But, nope, he was underpaying by forty-three cents.

Amazingly, someone at the gas station called the State Police, and Joseph Sobolewski ended up "arrested on a felony charge under the state’s “three strikes” law for retail theft, according to court records."

Now, Sobolewski, who has two nonviolent theft convictions from many years earlier, is being held on a $50,000 bond. He faces up to seven years in prison. (Source: Washington Post)

Regardless of the amount of the theft, if you have two prior convictions for retail theft of an item worth $150 or less, the third theft turns into a third-degree felonies. Sure, it's the law. But it's a dumb law. 

Involuntary manslaughter, institutional sexual assault and carrying a firearm without a license are also considered third-degree felonies in Pennsylvania.

So now Sobolewski facing a sentence of 3.5 to 7 years in prison.

In what universe does this make any sense?

Sobolewski is not exactly a hardened criminal. Over a decade ago, he drove off without paying for a tank of gas. And in 2011, he clipped a pair of $40 shoes from K-Mart. This was during December. My bet would be that he was walking around in a pair of hole-in-the-sole sneakers and lifted a pair of cheap boots. (I originally typed that as hole-in-the-soul. That, too.)

He also has a marijuana conviction in this past. Plus he owes $1,500 in child support. 

Tell me what's the point of sending this guy to PRISON for 7 years? 

Talk about Dickensian. I know that prisoners are no longer put to "work" on a treadmill, but still...

Sobolewski is not the worst of the examples of how these three-strike laws - which don't allow for any sentencing discretion - are applied.

A woman in California was just released aft 27 years in prison for breaking into a home and stealing a VCR. She had a history of petty crime, and ended up being sent away for 40 years to life. So I guess she can consider herself fortunate that she only did 27 years. 

The people I talk to when I'm volunteering will sometimes offer the information that they've been in prison. Sometimes they just flat out say they've been in the stir. Other times, they'll make a crack about Bob Barker soap. (We try to provide hygiene products and clothing items like underwear and socks that aren't prison issue, but those are more costly, and sometimes the budget dictates that we end up ordering from a supplier - Bob Barker - whose principal market is correctional institutions.) Some of the guys who come in are plenty tough, hardened, edgy, a bit on the nasty side. Most just come across as poor souls. I don't think anyone has ever told me what he was in jail or prison for. I'm not a social worker or case manager. I don't have long convos with folks, just a few minutes in passing. 

Sometimes I'll hear the scuttlebutt and learn why they did time. Other times I'll ask one of the staff members about a guest that I haven't seen in a while, and they often have some info. And that info sometimes includes an arrest and incarceration. Once in a blue moon, I'll google someone. But mostly not. 

(I did this a few months ago when some guy barged in wearing an EMT jacket and started loudly demanding to use a phone to call a fire station. My antenna went right up, and I figured this fellow was no EMT. Indeed, I found that he had prior convictions for impersonating a cop and for impersonating a firefighter. Anyway, he just wanted to use the phone. Have at it, pal.)

Our carceral system is beyond ludicrous. Even if Joseph Sobolewski doesn't end up doing hard time - some legal good-guys may make him the poster boy in a case to rework Pennsylvania's three-strikes law - it's a good example of just how idiotic it is. 

Yes, there are plenty of people who do really bad things, and they need to be put away. But some guy unintentionally underpaying for a bottle of Mountain Dew isn't one of them. If Sobolewski is anything like most of the folks I work with, he's done stupid things, he's f'd up, he's f'd up good swaths of his life. But he isn't beyond redemption. And he sure doesn't deserve seven years in the slammer.

Here's a case where the law really can be an ass. 

Tom Brady shilling for Subway? Huh?

Tom Brady has done a lot of ads over the years. Top of mind: Uggs. Aston Martin. Tag Heuer. Some mattress.

I have no trouble believing that Tom wore Uggs. Drove an Aston Martin. Sported a Tag Heuer. Maybe even slept on the mattress with the brand I can't remember.

But would Tom Brady - Tom Brady! - ever, ever, ever in a million, trillion, zillion years eat at Subway? I kinda sorta doubt it.

Ah, Tom Brady.

Two things:

Like virtually every sports fan who's being honest, I believe that Tom Brady is the greatest quarterback of all time. Sure, when he's won all those Super Bowls it's been on teams where he had the support he needed: O-lines that protected him, sure-handed receivers, D that held the scoring for the other guy down. Still...Brady is just brilliant on the field, and even I - not a super football fan - can appreciate his genius. The Super Bowl game where he took the Patriots back from a 28-3 deficit to a 34-28 win was just breathtaking. This guy's mental toughness has got to be in the 99.99999th percentile.

On the other hand, even though he's got a sister named Maureen (and I have a brother Tom), and even though he lived for a few years just a few blocks away, I've never really liked him. Not even when he was winning all those Super Bowls with the Patriots. (And, yes, on my walks I did end up watching a bit of a couple of those celebration duck boat parades. One time, TB12 even waved to me. Or at me.) But I find him bland, an odd combination of banal and weird. 

A big part of the weirdness is his diet. Oh, basically it sounds ultra-healthy and fine. Avoid sugar. Drink alcohol minimally. Eat a ton of veggies. Don't eat processed anything. No white foods. No to gluten. Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. 

Plenty healthy. Not all that weird. 

Personally, I don't think I'd be too happy with the no sugar. And forget about the no gluten rule. Bread is the staff of my life, and, since my husband got a late-in-life diagnosis as sufferer from celiac disease, I know just how limiting a gluten-free diet can be. But I'm all for the plant-based emphasis. Veggies, fruits, nuts. I'm there!

But some of his veggie rules are just a tiny bit unusual. As in the fatwa on nightshades. That's no tomatoes. No potatoes. No peppers. No eggplant. 

Tom wouldn't exactly be happy rooting around in my pantry and fridge. 

Anyway, given Tom's eating regimen - which he promotes heavily as a key element of his TB12 brand - it was something of a surprise to find him doing an ad for Subway.

Subway, of course, has been in ongoing need of an image

makeover since their former long-term spokesman was imprisoned for child pornography. And you can't find a more squeaky-clean image than that of Tom Brady. Sure, there was that bit of stupidity with the MAGA cap, but mostly he's pure as the driven snow.

(A few years ago, a former University of Tennessee trainer (a woman) came forward and accused of Brady's peer and (former) archrival Peyton Manning of waving his junk in her face when he was in college. Nothing came of it, of course, and Manning continues to be featured in countless ads - far more than Brady's ever done. I would be slack-jawed amazed if anyone accused Tom Brady of such offensive behavior. I may not like Tom Brady, but I never felt he was a shitty person, a nasty macho misogynist jock. It probably helped that he was raised in a family with three sisters. That junk-waving crap just wouldn't fly.)

So I can understand why Subway would want Tom Brady.

The question is, what's Tom Brady doing shilling for Subway. I can't imagine that he actually eats their sandwiches. Seriously, would anyone eat at Subway when there's other options around?

I'm definitely pro sandwich. Just the other day, on a walk to the North End, I got an Italian at Bricco's. Yummy. 

There are plenty of other good sandwich places in Boston, including my very own kitchen. No reason to eat at Subway, thank you. Oh, I'd go to Subway if the only other choices were outfits like Arby's or Roy Rogers. Other than that. But mostly, Subway is a 'nah.'

I did feel differently when, back in my business traveling days, one of the airlines - I think it was American - started to serve meals composed of a Subway sandwich and a bag of Sun Chips. Even though the sandwiches weren't all that tasty - and I could never figure out whether the meat was whitish ham or pinkish turkey - I very much welcomed this offering. Far better than the "real" meals.

Anyway, if I don't eat at Subway - I who eat gluten. And nightshades. And sugary things. - you can bet your cleats that Tom Brady doesn't, either.

So why do the ads? He doesn't need the money. Is he donating his fee to a charity? Is the easy money just too hard to turn down? What would motivate you to shill for a product you wouldn't consume and/or feed your kids? And that could cast a shadow on your TB12 forever young/forever fit brand. Maybe TB12 isn't doing all that well, so he's figuring what the hell. Take a walk on the wild side.

The ads are somewhat clever - Tom pokes a bit of fun at himself in them  - but I've still got to wonder. Others are wondering, too.

The Subway ad, which eludes [sic: easy enough mistake to make] to their bread as a “fragrance,” shows Brady…sniffing the bread, but not eating it.

“Seductive, irresistible yet forbidden…bready,” says the female voiceover in the Subway ad.

“Smells so good…I can almost taste it,” says Brady.

“But you don’t eat bread,” the female whispers at the end.

Brady on Record

On Sunday, Brady took to Instagram and clarified his position as a spokesperson — saying he doesn’t eat “much” bread.

"People are wondering about my new partnership with @subway. As this new commercial will tell you, I don’t eat much bread, but at the end of the day I recognize greatness when I see it," wrote Brady.

"When they told me about all the new menu items they were launching, I couldn’t resist getting in on the fun. Bready…. It’s forbidden. #Bready #SubwayPartner," he continued. (Source: GoLocalProv)

I do believe that Tom Brady recognizes greatness. He sees it every time he looks in the mirror. He's the GOAT (Greatest of All Time) and he knows it. He also sees greatness when he looks at his wife, supermodel (and super businesswoman) Giselle Buncchen. But Subway? Huh?

Anyway, Tom's already got a new ad campaign going. He's an investor in a crypto exchange platform, and he and Giselle are doing ads for it. He's said that he'd like to get paid part of his salary in crypto, too. And I seem to remember that he's done something with NFT's (Non Fungible Tokens).

So when it comes to crypto, he's putting his money where his mouth is. Can't say the same for his promoting Subway. 

A lot of his fans (and even us non-fans) are asking 'why?' Guess the only answer is that, when it comes to easy money, the answer is almost always 'why not?'

Christmas already? Bah - that's capital B-A-H BAH - humbug!

 Yesterday, the first day of fall, I stuck my head into Home Goods. 

Fearing that they would be getting Christmas'd up already, I was delighted that all the displays up front were for Halloween in particular and fall in general. Witches, pumpkins, jack o'lanterns, skeletons, autumn leaves, ghosts. Boo! (As in ghost boo, not hiss boo.)

Sure, there's been plenty of Halloween stuff out at CVS and the grocery stores for the past month or two, mostly candy and greeting cards. And those fabulous Halloween Oreos with the bright orange filling that, now that the Nabisco strike has been settled, we can go back to buying. Having Trick or Treat edibles available during August does seem a bit jump the gunnish, but having a full array of merch a month in advance of October 31 seems fine by me.

It's just that September seems way, way, way too early to start bombarding us with Christmas stuff. 

My relief that Home Goods hadn't yet succumbed to Christmas madness didn't last long. 

Turn down the aisle and what to my wondering eyes did appear but Christmas goods galore. Decorations. Cups, bowls,platters. Wrapping paper. Candles. Towels and potholders. Here's just a sample of what's available now, curiously backed by a sign that reads "Harvest Finds."

Oh, I'll get into the Christmas mood at some point - after Thanksgiving. It's just that it's way too early to think about decking the halls when it's still too warm to wear a sweater, and when the Red Sox are still playing. Seeing Christmas regalia around this early brings me absolutely no tidings of comfort and joy. 

There may be an upside. Maybe it's an indicator that the supply chain isn't as screwed up as we're hearing it is. Either that, or stores are dragging out last year's holiday inventory - all that stuff that didn't get sold as we spent the grim and Scrooged-out season sitting around shivering in our masks, drawing cold comfort from our pitiful Charlie Brown Christmas trees, Zooming with friends and family to "celebrate," and stuffing those stockings with IOUs. Yep, last year's Christmas was one big lump o' coal. Maybe stores getting a jump start is a good sign?

Not that I have to like it. I'm still capital B-A-H BAH humbug when it comes to rushing the season. 

Meanwhile, out for a walk the other day, I came upon another Christmas-y thang: a downtown Boston street with fake-snow snowy sidewalks and a big red bow on a building. How festive, if it were December! But why?

The why turns out to be the filming of Apple TV's Spirited, an updated version of "A Christmas Carol" starring Will Ferrell and Ryan Reynolds. This explains why I spotted Will Ferrell in a restaurant a couple of weeks back. (Actually, my niece Caroline spotted him, but once she pointed him out, I did see him.) What cannot be explained is that the story is set in NYC. They even imported some yellow NYC cabs to park along the street. (I didn't see them in person, just in an article on the filming.) 

So a bit of a mystery. As in why not just a) film in NY, or b) make the location Boston. 

There's always something off when filmmakers try to palm one region/city off on another. Lots of shows and films are made in Toronto, with Toronto impersonating any number of large Northern cities. But when I see the products of faux location, my reaction, if I know the city it's supposed to be, is typically something along the lines of that doesn't look like [city name goes here]. 

A few years ago, I saw a movie set in Rhode Island and Massachusetts, with some scenes supposedly taking place in Worcester. I was scratching my head. It didn't look like Worcester buildings, a Worcester street. And the countryside around didn't look like Massachusetts. Was it too few trees or too much farm or something else? Also, the light seemed off. Turns out, the filming was done in Michigan. 

My favorite catch was in a show set in the Boston area that showed a graveyard with a memorial to World War II veterans that listed the dates of the war as 1939-1945. Maybe so, but in an American cemetery, the dates would have been our dates: 1941-1945. I was right: filmed on location in Canada. Which I guess is marginally better than a Hollywood backlot where the buildings are all facades. 

Anyway, between the holiday/snow-filled street scene, and all the holiday home goods at Home Goods, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas around here. 

Way too early! I can't be the only one whose not quite ready to have myself a merry little Christmas. 

These premature holiday celebrators sure know how to put the bah in humbug. (Or is it the humbug in bah?)

The oldest Internet profession

In the early go-go stages of Internet mania (c.f., dot.com bubble), I worked for one of the largest and best known web-hosting companies. Somewhere along the line, the company acquired a couple of hosting providers that had porn sites on their client lists. We even ended up renaming our company after one of these porn providers. (It should go without saying that, while I was in marketing, I had absolutely nothing to do with any of this.)

Although we did keep that one name, mostly what we wanted from these porn hubs was their data centers and bandwidth. Not their client lists. We really didn't want to be associated with the unsavory aspects of the porn biz. The clients we wanted to be associated with were Fortune 500's; household name brands that wanted an Internet presence (we hosted Tiffany.com); crazy-money Internet startups like pets.com (an idea that I guess was before its time; still regret I never got a puppet when I had the chance).

It's no secret that the growth of the Internet was and continues to be driven by porn. Think about it: pretty much everyone with a smartphone can make porn and upload it so others can "enjoy" (ahem) it. And all those eager consumers out there. Porn requires racks full of servers to store all those videos and images, and oodles of bandwidth to make them available to Joe Schmoe.

Somewhere along the line, my company decided to purge our client lists of porno outfits. Our ideal customers, in addition to not offering pornography, also hired us to manage their servers for them. The porn companies preferred to manage things for themselves. Anyway, we informed the pornsters that we no longer wanted them around, and they just ignored us. On D-Day, we sent a squadron of techies in to shut them down and fisticuffs ensued. The data center that was the scene of this brouhaha was in Arizona. The Wild West! At least the porn techies weren't packing heat. (It was a kinder, gentler time.)

Things, I guess, haven't changed all that much. 

Porn is still a big Internet deal, and some folks still don't want it around.

OnlyFan's is not a web hoster the way my old company was. From what I can tell, their platform is hosted by Amazon. But they are a subscription service that gives porn content creators a place where their clients can access the content they produce. So in that sense, they're doing hosting. Anyway, OnlyFan's wants to go public, and they've been trying to transition away from porn into more mainstream forms of entertainment and other content. So they tried giving all their porn stars the boot.

Porn stars, sex workers, and avid consumers were not going to take this decision lying down. After a major outcry, OnlyFan's reversed its decision.

Some sex workers say the reversal could signify a small step toward legitimizing and destigmatizing sex work, but many are still living in a state of uncertainty. Erotic content creators say they must now operate on a platform that betrayed their trust them while also looking for other sites to support their work and their livelihood. (Source: Washington Post)

Porn is a pretty sordid business. While it may not be the oldest profession, I do know that once photography became a thing, pornographic images followed right along. (For all I know, porn may have been the next thing on the printing press after the Guttenberg Bible.)

The pornographers will always be with us.

There's so much that's skeevy about porn: exploitation of women, glorification of sexual assault, abuse of children. But if people want to indulge in good, clean porn - not the truly gross stuff - and if sex workers want to make a better living as porn stars than they can on the streets, they should be able to. I'm not a consumer, but so what? There's a lot of things I don't consume.

And if the Internet makes it safer for legit sex workers, i.e., those specializing in sex between consenting adults, to make a living. To make more than they can by risking their lives working the streets or getting pimped out, or getting exploited by old school porn film makers. 

Still, I can't help but think that there's a downside to all this 24/7 insta availability of porn. It's too prevalent, too easy, too addictive. There may be something to say for the old days of sneaking down to the "adult book store", or stopping in for a peep at a Times Square peep show. You had to go out of your way, which was probably better for the heart, mind, and soul of the consumer, if not for the folks whose artistry was being consumed.

But what do I know? My experience with porn is pretty limited. 

In my younger days, I did go to a couple of porn "art" films - nothing hardcore - just for the experience. 

One was 101 Acts of Love. I went with a couple of friends who were a couple. It was pretty dumb, and we ended up laughing through most of it. (It was about a female sex therapist trying to help a young couple improve their sex life.) My other porn flick - which I asked my BF (later husband) to take me to - was Behind the Green Door. A classic of the genre it may have been, but I was a combo of embarrassed and bored, and we left part way through. 

When Hustler was a thing, a friend and I bought a copy to see what the fuss was about. We found it so gross and disturbing that we wrapped it up in a paper bag and threw it out in a trash bin around the corner. No way that was going out with my trash. Someone might read Playboy for the articles, but I don't think there was any redeeming social or aesthetic value to Hustler. Nearly 50 years after the fact, I can still remember one of the crude and decidedly unfunny cartoons.

Other than that, my other porn experiences were inadvertent.

In the early days of the web, during the Monica Lewinsky era of the Clinton Administration, I was working on a weekend and decided to check out what (if anything) the White House was saying about the controversy. What I forgot was that the address I was looking for was whitehouse.gov, not .com, which was a notorious porn site. My first thought when the images started populating my screen was that the White House website had been hacked. But no. I unplugged that desktop pretty quickly.

A few years later, while working at the aforementioned web hosting provider, I would often look at a website called "Fucked Company." This was a well-known website of the dot.com era that was more or less a dead pool. You could consult it for gossip on on, well, fucked companies. The site was pretty funny, and my company made an occasional guest appearance in its annals. 

Over lunch one day, in pursuit of a some scoop or at least a couple of laughs/cries, I went to type in fuckedcompany.com. Unthinkingly, I accidentally typed in "getfucked." Big mistake. Porn paradise. Images kept popping up faster than I could click them closed. Quickly to the off button on the surge protector!

Despite my limited experience, I think I'd recognize porn when I see it. I just hope not to see it. 

Still, I find it interesting that porn hosting is still in the news after all these years. I shouldn't be surprised. After all, it's undoubtedly the oldest Internet profession. 

As if lawyers needed yet another fellow giving lawyers a bad name

There are any number of terrible lawyers out there. The political landscape is riddled with them. Some may actually be adequate lawyers, but they're just awful people. Ted Cruz, Ron DeSantis, and Josh Hawley come to mind. And, of course, there's Rudy Giuliani, who I'd say is without peer when it comes to offering bad legal advice. But then I consider his sidekicks Lin Wood and Sidney Powell, and have to ask whether there's a legal equivalent of quack doctor.

To this sordid bunch, I'm adding a newbie: John Eastman - he of the just leaked six-point memo outlining how Mike Pence should have tossed the election Trump's way. Pence's tiny little head might well have been turned if he hadn't sought the advice of fellow Hoosier, attorney Dan Quayle. (Forgive me, VP Quayle, for not having recognized that, when you were around, we had a veritable solon in our midst. Danny, we hardly knew ya...)

Then there are the lawyers - the list is too long to keep count - who get caught up in the shady business of swindling the widows and orphans they're supposed to be looking out for. 

Dewey, Cheatem & Howe! Nyuk, nyuk. 

But forget, for a moment, the malfeasant Stop the Steal brigade, the power-of-attorney-to-embezzle the bucks conmen, and focus on a new breed of Juris Grifter: the pandemic specialist.

I present to you one Thomas Renz.

At 44, Renz is a somewhat newly minted attorney. Five attempts in, he passed the bar in 2019 and set up a modest practice. Modest is my word, of course. If you look at Renz's LinkedIn profile, he's the CEO of Renz Law and Consulting, of Fremont, Ohio, and you'll see that he's:

A change agent driving constant improvement with impeccable integrity.

I'll give him the change agent designation, alright. But am I the only one left who believes that "impeccable integrity" is something that someone else says about you. It's not the sort of thing one would say about themselves. Especially if there are a few, ahem, peccadillos in his past and present.

Renz's most significant past problem was being forced out of the credit union where he worked for a few years after graduating from law school in 2011, but having failed to pass the bar until eight years later. He was forced out for sexual harassment - making crude comments, and fondling a woman's breast - which he, of course, denies. He is, after all, a self-described “God and family man.” Not to mention a change agent with impeccable integrity.

Once he put out his shingle, Renz was involved in a few cases, and then along came covid. It may have taken the lives of nearly 700,000 Americans, but for someone with an eye for the grift, covid was a giver. The pandemic for him presented quite the opportunity, and Renz has become a media darling and the head lawyer "leading federal lawsuits in six states that challenge shutdowns, mask mandates and the safety of vaccines while alleging that the danger of the virus has been overblown."

There's more to his grift than filing spurious lawsuits, however brand-building his legal work might be.

In recent months, Renz secured his own online talk show and has joined associates of Trump such as former national security adviser and retired Lt. Gen. Michael Flynn, MyPillow CEO Mike Lindell and veteran political operative Roger Stone on a national speaking tour titled “ReAwaken America.” He has made more than 100 appearances on conservative media outlets over the past year, a Post review found, including on One America News, Newsmax and Infowars.

Renz also launched a nonprofit group called For God Family Country that is collecting donations for the “medical freedom fight,” according to the website of Renz’s law firm. Renz ally Pamela Popper, the leader of an activist group called Make Americans Free Again, has said she aims to raise $100 million to support his lawsuits. (Source: Washington Post)

Ah, it's always good to see the old "God Family Country" nonprofit play. Personally, I'm okay with good God men taking the name of the Lord they God in vain. Unfortunately for Renz, his nonprofit suckered in less than $1K in its first two years. But fortunately for him, he's making $300 an hour for his legal work on behalf of anti-vaxxers. 

And don't get me going on Pamela Popper. That's Doctor Pamela Popper to you, bub. She holds her doctorate from a now-closed unaccredited correspondence school, Clayton College of Natural Health in Birmingham, Ala. (Quack, anyone?)

As for the money to be made:

Renz wrote in an email to The Post that his law firm had been paid “around $250,000” so far for coronavirus litigation, which he said occupied most of his time over the past year. “I am certainly not making much off of this,” he added.

Not making much? This from a fellow who had previously worked at his family's six-lane rural bowling alley and who, when he decided to become a lawyer, was mired in credit card debt. 

The lawyering - all those nonsense lawsuits - is plenty awful. Then there are the incredibly destructive and outrageous claims he's making. 

In one of dozens of recent media appearances, Ohio attorney Thomas Renz was claiming that coronavirus vaccines were more harmful than the virus itself. “The people that are dying are vaccinated,” he said on a conservative online talk show in July.

I know it's doctors who are supposed to "first, do no harm," but you might think that lawyers talking medicine might heed it as well. I mean, people are dying. Lots of them. And the ones who are doing the dying are almost always unvaccinated. (Inquiring minds would like to know if Renz is vaccinated. I'm guessing yes. Guess will find out if he ends up on a ventilator.)

As Renz spoke, a message flashed across the screen with his website address. “Donate to his cause,” it urged.

Donate? But of course! Renz is, after all, part of the "Legal Eagle Dream Team" sponsored by a group called America's Frontline Doctors. All I can say is that anyone who's a patient of a doctor associated with America's Frontline Doctors has a quack for a doctor. And any one who'd take legal advice from Renz or anyone else on the "Legal Eagle Dream Team" is just plain nuts.

Renz is going all in on his anti-science crusade. What's going on, he maintains, is a crime against humanity, and any trials he's involved in are like Nuremberg. 

He has promised his supporters more legal action, declaring in one recent interview that “the suits are never going to stop” and that he was lining up his next targets.

“As God is my witness,” he said in Anaheim, “hell will freeze over before I stand down on this.”

And why would he stop? Thomas Renz has found his grift and he's sticking with it. 

As if lawyers needed yet another fellow giving lawyers a bad name. 

Now here's an influencer I can get behind

Generally, when I read about some kid whose ambition is to become an "influencer", my eyes roll way, way, way back into the back of my skull and the words my mind immediately finds include "vapid," "ridiculous," and "what a waste."

That was until I read about Finn Hawley.

Finn is a local kid, from the tony town of Manchester-by-the-Sea, on Boston's North Shore. And his big thing is fishing for striped bass.  As he prepped to go fishin' the other day, The Boston Globe was right there with him:

“The fall run is heating up and there’s some big fish out there,” he says with a racing excitement.

As he gets ready to pile into his pickup truck and head out toward the surf, he grabs perhaps his most important piece of gear — a waterproof backpack full of camera equipment.

That’s because Hawley is attempting something that has really never been done before. He’s hoping to carve out a career as an “influencer” in the world of striper fishing. (Source: Boston Globe)

Striper influencer, you say?

While I enjoy an occasional piece of striper, I didn't realize it was such a big deal around here. Mostly when I hear folks talking about going fishing, they're after blues. Which is too bad: I much prefer striped bass, but that's because my first exposure to blue fish - beyond reading about it in Dr. Seuss - was at the Union Oyster House. Back then, the blue fish was not the freshest item on the menu. And blue fish that's not one fish, two fish, fresh fish, blue fish is pretty strong tasting. Now, although I don't seek it out, I'm fine with blue fish that's provably day boat. And I like blue fish pate, too. Yum! 

But I guess striper is the kingfish of saltwater fishing in the Northeast.  And saltwater fishing is quite a big deal. It just doesn't have a go-to personality associated with it. There are a couple of striped bass "olds" out there, but no one young and conversant with social media.

And now appearing on the scene: the perfectly named Finn Hawley.

He's still just a high school senior, but Finn does have an online following that he's been building up. (Finn is a surfcaster, fishing from the shore rather than from a boat. This is apparently a distinction that means something, and those who fish debate back and forth which one is more difficult, etc.)

Finn's original career dream was to become an entomologist. Unfortunately, he had a couple of disabilities that would get in the way of pursuing a career that was going to require a lot of traditional book learning. He's both dyslexic and dyscalculic - that's the number version of dyslexic - so college would present a high degree of difficulty.

Anyway, once the reality of his situation dawned on Finn, he "began to wonder if it might be possible to turn his burgeoning social media popularity into a career." (Even before he started high school, he was Instagramming his catches.)

Over time, he picked up a following. His brother Gus is a filmmaker in the making, and he started creating videos for Finn that were podcast on YouTube. His YouTube offerings include tutorials and a capture of the day he caught a 50 pound bass, which is a big deal. And probably made for some good eating.

When covid struck, Finn and Gus decided to create a 10-episode show chronicling Finn's fishing activities over the course of a spring-through-fall season. The videos were surprisingly sophisticated for a couple of kids - props to Gus (now off to college to study engineering) for his mad skills - and look "more like something you’d see on Netflix than something made by two teenagers."

Now Finn didn't exactly go mad viral. I mean, striped bass fishing doesn't quite draw the same sized crowd as whatever it is that Kylie Jenner fronts for. Still, it was something.

Soon, Hawley had sponsorship deals with Poombah, Lamiglas Rods, and the apparel company Stormr. In August of 2020, he achieved a childhood dream; his photo was on the cover of On the Water magazine, holding a 47-inch striper. That same summer, he launched a kids surf fishing camp that became so popular so quickly, entirely via word of mouth, that this summer he cut the number of sessions in half so he could begin working as a guide for adults — a key to making this whole professional surfcaster thing work — and so he would have some time to fish himself.

So good for Finn Hawley. And good luck to him.

Admittedly, he's got a lot of support behind him. He won't be homeless if he graduates from high school and isn't making enough money to earn a living. As far as I can tell, he grew up in an $8m waterfront home. His father was a successful businessman, and his late grandfather was the CEO of Gillette. So he's not going to have to scratch out a living to keep following his dream for a while. 

Still, I find Finn's story completely compelling. 

He's found a niche and he's going to make the most out of it. He's found a way to overcoming the learning disabilities that he was born with. And he's found a way to do something interesting with his life, something that exploits his gifts and his capacity for hard work. 

Go fish, Finn Hawley. Go fish!

It's always Irish Music Month at my house!

Yesterday, a news bit came over my Twitter feed, letting me know that it's Irish Music Month and linking to a message on it, delivered by Ireland's President, Michael Higgins. The president of Ireland is popularly elected, but the role is largely ceremonial. As a master of ceremonies for his country, Michael Higgins is a brilliant choice. In addition to being a politician, he's a sociologist and a poet - and excellent combo. At 80, he's a complete charmer. So I listened to the English version of his little speech on Irish Music Month, which talked about how music is so ingrained in the country's culture, etc. 

I've been to Ireland enough times to know that! No trip for me is complete unless I've looked in at a few traditional music sessions.

Anyway, this being Irish Music Month got me thinking of my own love for Irish music and how it came about.

Growing up, in mid-century Worcester, Irish music was whatever they played on The Jimmy Dooley Irish Hour, a radio show our family tuned in every week. I have zero recall of the music that "Jimmy Dooley" played. This was the 1950's, so I'm guessing it was standard fare sung by the likes of Carmel Quinn, Bing Crosby, Dennis Day, and Morton Downey (Senior, not Junior). What I do remember was "Jimmy Dooley's" brogue, which my father declared as phony as a 3-dollar bill, complete Blarney. To my ears, that brogue was completely alluring, and I just adored "Jimmy Dooley." In fact, one of my two imaginary friends was named Dooley in his honor.

There was, of course, no "Jimmy Dooley." He was a Worcester Irish guy named Tom Power. He had family in our parish, and one of his nieces was in my grammar school class - the most famous person I knew! For a big city, Worcester's a small town, and my father may have known Tom Power in real life. Anyway, my father - perhaps attuned to the authentic brogues of his grandparents - was right about the brogue being fake. Sigh.

We listened to "Jimmy Dooley" when we lived in one of the flats in my grandmother's decker. Once we moved up the hill and around the corner into a home of our own when I was six-and-a-half, I don't remember ever listening to him again. 

For a while after that the only "Irish" music I heard was what was sung on "Sing Along With Mitch." (And, yes, my family did sing-along when we watched the show every Friday night. We also had a few Mitch Miller albums, which came with sheets containing the lyrics to all the songs.) Irish music according to Mitch was pretty much of the hokey Vaudeville variety: "H-A-R-R-I-G-A-N," "Has Anybody Here Seen Kelly?", "If You're Irish (Come Into the Parlor)."

My grandmother played Irish-y songs on the upright in the parlor, most notably "(I Wandered Today to the Hills,) Maggie."

At school, around St. Patrick's Day, we sang the classics like "My Wild Irish Rose" and "Paddy McGinty's Harp."

It's safe to say that by my teen years I had been exposed to pretty much every cornball Irish-American song out there, but precious little that was authentic.

Then along came The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem.

What a revelation!

Sure, they included a lot of music hall numbers in their repertoire, but when they crossed the pond in their Aran sweaters, they brought with them plenty of authentic (or at least authentic-adjacent) tunes. 

I loved The Clancy Brothers, and my sister Kath and I bought their albums and saw them in concert when they came to

Worcester. My mother knit me an Aran Island sweater to wear when I saw them perform. After all these years, I still think that Liam Clancy had one of the most beautifully pure voices I've ever heard.

Other than that, I mostly didn't listen to Irish music.

The first time I went to Ireland, in 1973, we didn't even go into many pubs. Way too smoky for the lungs of a couple of American girls. 

In the mid-1980's, my husband and I started going on vacation to Ireland pretty regularly, every year or two. And we hung out in pubs, especially after they were made non-smoking, and heard plenty of Irish music. Back home, we started attending sessions in one or the other of Boston's many Irish pubs. 

I started buying Irish (and other Celtic) music.

The Chieftains are often scorned a bit for their commercial success, but I think they're great. I have well over a dozen of their CDs, and wish I'd seen them "live" during their prime.

Mary Black - as much folk as Irish - is one of my all-time favorite singers. I love Christy Moore, Dolores Keane, The Cranberries, Enya (okay, a little goes a long way). Sinead O'Connor. De Dannan. Luka Bloom. Planxty. The (late, lamented) Bothy Band. Et al.

When my husband died, his (completely secular) memorial service was held in a Unitarian Church. The organist they introduced me to - a self-described "Polish guy from Chicago" - turned out to be an expert in Irish music. He played a glorious version of "The Limerick Lament." (They don't call it a lament for nothing.) And he closed the ceremony out with some lively ceilidh (party) music. 

In between, a Unitarian minister in training, who had a wonderful voice, sang "The Parting Glass," one of my favorite Irish songs (even if its roots are in Scotland), and a perfect song for Jim Diggins' send off. The rendition performed was almost as gorgeous as when it was sung by Liam Clancy.

There's a radio station in Boston that plays Irish music on Saturdays and Sundays. A lot of it's terrible; a lot of it's great. The truly terrible thing about it is that the station these shows are on is owned by a right wing (think Christo-fascist) network, and the ads are quite something. Still, once in a while I tune in, telling myself that whoever's doing the advertising for the latest from Danish D'Souza is wasting their money.

I listen to Irish music all the time. I'm counting the hours until I get back to Ireland, where I've been so many times and is so much my heart's home. (Come on, how could I resist a country whose president is a sociologist and a poet.)

So happy Irish Music Month. 

To celebrate, I hope you enjoy this beautiful song performed decades back in Galway, I think at the Kings' Head, where I've been many times. The song is "Jimmy Mo Mhile Stor" ("Jimmy My Thousand Treasures"), and it goes out to my own personal Jim, and - how could it not - to "Jimmy Dooley," whoever you were, wherever you are.

Bully for woolies!

There are so many terrible potential outcomes associated with global warming, it's hard to know where to begin. Equatorial climates becoming uninhabitable. Oceans rising and swamping coastal cities. More frequent, more violent storms everywhere. Economic upheaval. The extinction of treasured animal species (c.f., polar bears). 

No end to the bad things on the horizon.

But if Colossal, a Boston startup (also located in Dallas and Austin), has anything to do with it, we'll soon see de-extinction. And they're starting with the woolly mammoth. 

Combining the science of genetics with the business of discovery, we endeavor to jumpstart nature’s ancestral heartbeat. To see the Woolly Mammoth thunder upon the tundra once again. To advance the economies of biology and healing through genetics. To make humanity more human. And to reawaken the lost wilds of Earth. So we, and our planet, can breathe easier. (Source: Colossal)

Well, good luck with the bit about making humanity more human, but I'm absolutely down with the return of the wooly mammoth. 

How great is it that their proof of concept is going to be such a cutie-pie of an animal?

Colossal is the brainchild of Ben Lamm, a serial tech entrepreneur, and George Church, a Harvard geneticist who was behind the Personal Genome Project and who is a professor at Harvard's brilliantly named Wyss Institute for Biologically Inspired Engineering.

The duo intends to develop a new critter that's similar to the woolly mammoth - which has been extinct for 10,000 years or so (not long in terms of non-personal historic, geologic time: we really just missed them). The new creature on the block will be a genetically engineered version of currently endangered Asian elephants, a group being wiped out by herpes and by humans. (Hmmm. Colossal may want to rethink that bit about wanting to make humanity more human. Maybe making us less human would be a better route to take.)

The thinking is to breed a version of the Asian elephant that will be hardy enough to stand up to Siberian temperatures, and that won't succumb to herpes. The reengineered elephants are going to look pretty much like woolly mammoths. Once the herds of these new woolies are "rewilded" back into the Arctic, the thought is that they'll be able to both give the world back an interesting (and way cute) animal AND, the bigger bonus, "slow global warming by slowing the melting of the premafrost, where methane is currently trapped."

How's this going to happen?

 If these revived woolly mammoths eventually repopulate the Arctic, they would take down small trees and help repopulate the grasses they thrive on, Church said. Those grasses reflect sunlight better than the dark trunks of the conifer trees that live there. In addition, the woolly mammoths tamp down the snow, making it less insulating.

Those grasses would cool the ecosystem, in turn reducing the release of trapped methane gas from melting permafrost, a major contributor to global warming. (Source: CNBC)

The idea behind this has been kicking around for years, but Colossal is just coming into existence thanks to $15M of seed money that's being pumped in.

The cast of investors is pretty interesting.

The Winklevoss Twins, having been deprived of their right to become billionaires but evildoer Mark Zuckerberg, are in. So's Richard Garriott, who obviously has money to burn. During the aughts he forked over $30M to travel to the International Space Station as a tourist. 

My favorite investor is none other than Tony Robbins. Who says that self-promotion and self-help guruism doesn't pay?

The company anticipates that the first woolies could be ready to start tamping down the tundra in as few s six years. From there, they'll use their science and technology for other conservation projects. 

"Beyond the amazement of ‘de-extinction’ becoming real, proving the technology with de-extinction is only the beginning. These same technologies will be able to solve a huge array of human problems,” Garriott told CNBC. “Synthetic biology will allow us to create new life forms that can address massive problems, from oil and plastic cleanup to carbon sequestration and much more. Solving tissue rejection and artificial wombs will go on to help improve and extend life for all humans.”

I'm all for solving human problems, and God knows there's a "huge array" of them. And I'm more than convinced that private enterprise is as likely to save us from ourselves as anything the government is going to do. (Not that I'm not all for the government working aggressively to stand up to the existential threat that global warming presents. It's just that I don't think very much can or will be done until businesses step up and step in. Once they explain that bad things are happening, that more will happen, and that there's a "huge array" of economic problems attached, global warming deniers may smarten up and we can finally take action.) 

So YAY, Colossal! I hope your success is colossal, and that the Winklevoss twins become richer than Zuck. I don't even mind Tony Robbins making a buck. Actually, this way seems a lot less slick and sleazy than how he's made his fortune to date. 

And extending the life of humans is fine by me, too. Just so they don't make it extend forever. 

More wooly mammoths are one thing. A raft of 200 year old sucking up resources is another.

Meanwhile, put me down as someone looking forward to the return of the woolly mammoth. Bully for woolies!