Christmas Tree, 2024

It's smaller than trees I've had in the past. But it's still a six-footer, and I did ask for a skinny one. And it is, of course, a real tree. (Balsam.) So it works. 

I enjoyed putting it up. And in another week or so, I'll enjoy taking it down. (To the right, on my grandmother's little desk, you can see a stack of Christmas CD's which I played while decorating, and which - after a final listen to a few faves which undecorating - will be retired for another year once the tree is down.

This year, I couldn't fit all my ornaments on it. But the ones that mean something are all there. And even though I keep telling myself to stop buying ornaments, there are a few new ones. A ceramic lemon my niece Caroline brought me from Sorrento. A James Joyce I found in a museum in Dublin. A little Vermont Country Store. A Green Line car. (When I first came to Boston for college, I lived on the Green Line.)

I'm not much of a photographer, but - like the tree itself - it works.

Merry Christmas to all! And to Pink Slip, a week off. Back in the new year.

Lucky me

When I think about what it must be like to be poor, I often think that one of the more miserable aspects of poverty  - yet often overlooked, as it's a 'nice to haves,' not a 'must have' -  is that, when you're poor, you're less likely to be surrounded by lovely things than you are if you're not poor.

I think about this all the time.

I step out of my front door and look out on the Boston Public Garden, one of the loveliest public park in the United States. Lucky me.

Sure, people who don't live in downtown Boston can come in and take in the beauty of the Public Garden. But they can't walk out their front door and see it. 

The Public Garden changes their plantings throughout spring-summer-fall, and in the winter, it's decked out with white lights. But one of my favorite parts of the Public Garden is The Make Way for Ducklings ducks, which change costume seasonally (or whenever a Boston team makes the playoffs), and here they are in holiday garb. 

When I turn the corner to stroll down Charles Street, the main drag in my neighborhood, I find shops that are interesting and well-kept. And for the holidays, shop after shop, they're almost all decked out.

None of these pics do the displays any justice, but you get the point: Festive. Interesting. Attractive

And sometimes pretty in pink.

But as often as not, not.

Some places go for a toned down holiday aesthetic. 

The store pictured below sells Birkenstocks. They also sell boots, so they put their greens in a boot-shape. (This spot has been a boot-Birk store forever, under multiple owners, but it's always been hippy dippy. Back in the day, I bought my sister Trish a pair of Frye boots there when she was heading off to college.)

  

This is Blackstone's, my favorite gift shop. Jennifer and Jim, the owners, are delightful. It's also where I get my knives sharpened.

And this is where I get things framed. Dave, who owns this shop, is an artist and framing genius. 

I am fortunate to have a wonderful little hardware store, Charles Supply, just around the corner. The owner's wife is an artist, and their windows - whatever the season - are witty and imaginative. (Not that you can see the wit and imagination from my lousy pictures. Just take my word for it.)

I could do another walkaround to the local residences. But I'm feeling a bit Insta'd out. (That said, I did capture a couple.)

Years ago, I foolishly tried to learn Irish from tapes. Very little stuck with me, but this proverb did.

Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin 

Which translates into there's no fireside like your own.

This is not my fireside. But it is my front door. Agus,  níl aon doras tosaigh mar do doras tosaigh féin. 

Lucky me, to live where things are merry, bright, interesting, pretty...Lucky me.

These are a few of my favorite things, Christmas music edition.

I'm not a colossal, over the top gaga fan of Christmas.

I like it just fine.

I put up a real tree, and love decorating it. (Taking it down: not so much.) 

I decorate my home. (Just not crazily.)

I send out Christmas cards. (So old school!)

I bake. (Come July, there's nothing like finding a Frosty Fruit Bar in the freezer.)

I like the wreath on the door. (And I am one of the sensible folks who takes the wreath down before it turns orange and/or fully sheds.)

I like the lights on the Boston Common and the Public Garden. (And I'm more than happy that they leave them up until February, when there's a bit more daylight in the day.)

I like hosting my family on Christmas Eve. (Growing up, in my family, Christmas Eve was the main event; Christmas was just fine, but more or less an afterthought.)

And I really like doing absolutely nothing on Christmas Day. (Other than working my volunteer shift at St. Francis House.)

But what I truly LOVE about Christmas is the music.

At least count, I have 35 CD's. (Told you I was old school.)

More than a dozen are Celtic/Irish or Celtic adjacent. A couple are Gregorian chantish. 

I have a bunch of mutts.

A giveaway from Starbucks. Another from HMV, which no longer operates any stores in the US. 

Manhattan Transfer. Glenn Miller. The Weavers. Leon Redbone. (Huh to this last one?)

I bought Bob Dylan's (predictably terrible) compilation, Christmas in the Heart as a joke. Someone gave me (the predictably terrible) Bonanza: Christmas on the Ponderosa as a joke. 

I've got a couple of Dolly Parton's which are quite good. And a Billboard Greatest Christmas Hits, which includes some great tunes: "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" (Brenda Lee), "White Christmas" (The Drifters), "Blue Christmas" (Elvis), and the classic "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" (Elmo 'n Patsy). 

My top five Christmas CD's are:

• The Bells of Dublin (The Chieftains)
  
• The Christmas Song (Nat King Cole: that voice!)
• Merry Christmas (Bing Crosby: where would we be without Der Bingl's "Christmas in the Killarney?")
• A Merry Little Christmas (Linda Rondstadt)
• Come Rejoice! (Judy Collins: my absolute fave, and I am a long-time fan. The only thing I asked for for Christmas in 1964 was her latest album at that time.)

I don't know if I have any one favorite Christmas song.

I like both the sacred and the profane. 

• O, Holy Night
• White Christmas
• Joy to the World
• Fairytale of New York (can't get much more profane than the Pogues)
• Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
• The River (Joni Mitchell, covered by Linda Ronstadt: have yourself a depressing little Christmas with this one)
• Pretty Paper, Pretty Ribbons (ditto on the depressing)
• The Christmas Song
• Winter Wonderland
• Lo, How a Rose E're Blooming
• Adeste Fidelis
• Angels We Have Heard on High
• Good King Wenceslas
• The Cherry Tree Carol 
• Run Run Reindeer (surf's up!)
• The Rebel Jesus (never heard of it? Jackson Browne)
• I Saw Three Ships A-sailing
• As Dew in Aprille
• O Come, O Come, Emmanuel
• All I Want for Christmas Is You (wouldn't be the season without it)
• The Holly & The Ivy
• We Wish You a Merry Christmas
• I'll Be Home for Christmas (other than that weird lyric "presents ON the tree;" doesn't make much sense, given that 99.9999% of presents are 'NEATH or BY the tree, not ON...)

Speaking of on, I could go on.

But I won't.

Go have yourself some merry little Christmas music, why don't you?

Toy H.O.F. - 2023 Inductees

Yesterday, Pink Slip covered evil, bad, harmful toys from the 2023 W.A.T.C.H. warning list.

Today, we'll mix it up a bit and go happier with this year's inductees into the National Toy Hall of Fame, which is run by Rochester's Strong National Museum of Play. 

This year's shortlist included baseball cards, Battleship, bingo, Bop It, Cabbage Patch Kids, Choose Your Own Adventure gamebooks, Connect 4, Little Tykes Cozy Coupe, Nerf toys, slime, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Barbie's boyfriend, Ken.

The three winners chosen from the shortlist are all worthy: Cabbage Patch Kids, NERF, and baseball cards. A fourth inductee was chosen "by popular vote" from a list of past snub-ees: the Fisher Price Corn-Popper. (Kind of like when the veterans committee from the baseball Hall of Fame votes in someone that never made it in via voting by the Baseball Writers Association of America.)

Sorry Ken doll, sorry slime. Maybe next year.

Anyway, I'm glad to see that the Corn-Popper, which dates back to 1957, made it. 

This was after my toddling time, and I can't remember whether the younger kiddos in the family ever had a Corn-Popper. They were in the right era. But I'm thinking not. There was already enough noise and commotion in our house without inviting more in via the Corn-Popper. 

But this is such a sweet toy. It's plenty simple. It's plenty entertaining. And it keeps the little newbie walkers moving. 

And although it now comes in different colors - pink, turquoise, purple - it's pretty timeless. 

What's not to like? A classic! An extra benefit: if you can hear the popping, you know your kiddo's on the move and not eating Tide Pods or sticking their fingers in the one socket you forgot to protect.

So congrats to the Corn-Popper. Better late than never.

And congrats to the Cabbage Patch Kids. 

I didn't have kids, but if I had, those kiddos would have likely have been around when the stork was at his peak delivering these little weirdos.

I certainly remember the commotion around them, with people in those pre-Internet days driving all over the place trying to find a Cabbage Patch Kid. Paying scalper prices Getting into fights - including with baseball bats. 

The dolls were oddly cute and, though I'm sure the notion of adoption of an abandoned child may no longer be PC, the concept was innovative, as each doll had a unique first name-middle name combo. (Wonder if there was a Maureen Elizabeth. Perhaps it's enough that somewhere in Africa, there's supposedly a pagan baby baptized with my name.)

Recently, I met a woman named Buffy. I asked if she'd been named after folksinger Buffy St. Marie, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Nope, her mother found her name on a Cabbage Patch doll.

Nerf is another righteous inductee. Like the Corn-Popper, like the Cabbage Patch Kids, it's a pre-tech toy with endless applications. And unless you're really trying, you can't do all that much harm with it. Congrats, Nerf-dom!

My favorite 2023 inductee is really not a toy. But it's also the inductee that I have the most experience with.

Baseball cards were everywhere when I was a kid. No one thought of collecting them for profit. We all used them for fun.

You could flip them with other kids, and win all the cards they were holding, including the ones fresh enough to still smell of Topp's bubble gum, to still have a bit of the pink talc-ish bubble gum coating on them. 

We even had a special baseball card vocabulary. If someone won all your cards off of you, you were skunned. 

Baseball cards were cheap to acquire. All you needed was a nickel for a package that would get you five baseball cards and a barely-chewable thin slice of gum. Unlike Bazooka brand gum, which was flavorful, and which you could quickly chaw into a consistency that allowed for blowing a bubble, Topp's gum was god-awful. And if you got a stale piece, which as often as not you did, you could split your lip open on a broken shard of it.

Sure, baseball cards were mostly for boys, but girls did occasionally flip cards. (As this girl did.) And both boys and girls clipped baseball cards - usually those of mutt players none of us had heard of - to the spokes of their bicycle wheels. When you pedaled off, the cards made an entirely satisfying clickety-clack that was even more wonderful than the poppity-pop of the Corn-Popper.

Baseball cards had other uses, too.

In our house, we used them as flashcards to teach my baby sister the names of players. Trish - then called Potto, Podie, or Po - was a very good student, and from a very early age could recognized dozens of baseball cards. Among her first words: Gary Geiger - pronounced in Po-speak as Gaggy Geigah). All the better for our little genius baseball fan in the making, Geiger was an outfielder with the Red Sox. 

Most of our baseball cards came from Topps, but at one point, my Aunt Margaret decided that her son Robert, an older cousin, no longer needed his collection of baseball cards. So she dumped a couple of shoe boxes full of cards from the early to mid-1950s on us. Treasure trove! (I'm pretty sure that cousin Bob, who will be 80 next year, still resents that his mother so cavalierly gave away his well-preserved cache of baseball cards to a passel of rampaging younger cousins who destroyed them by spoking every bike in the neighborhood.)

So, baseball cards. Yay, yay, yay!!!

I don't think kids these days buy them for enjoyment. These days, they're potentially valuable memorabilia. What might a Mookie Betts rookie card be worth in twenty years? So a lot of baseball cards end up encased in plastic, just in case they might be worth something in the future. Certainly, the owners of those early Honus Wagner cards had no idea what they were holding.

Anyway, I like all of this years picks. No batteries, no chargers, no screens. 

Congratulations to the Toy Hall of Fame inductees!

'Tis the season to be on the lookout for bad toys

Each year, World Against Toys Causing Harm (W.A.T.C.H.) releases its list of the the most hazardous toys on the market. 

Anyone who grew up in the 1950's and 1960's is well aware that toys can be hazardous. And that most of us who played with hazardous toys do, in fact, survive into adulthood - make that incipient old age. 

I can't think of anyone in my childhood who was seriously injured by a toy. Or by the hazardous stuff we did without the help of dangerous toys. Case in point: when my sister Trish was born, my parents had already given away all their baby stuff. Some well-meaning friends gave them a beat up baby carriage that was nearly as large as a VW Beetle. Even for my frugal parents, that behemoth grey buggy was too dilapidated to put their beautiful new baby in to take for a stroll around the block. So they gave the baby buggy to the older kids. 

Yippee!

At first, our thought was to strip it down to make a gig - basically a board with wheels - but we decided it might be

more fun to see how many kids we could stuff into it. And how fast we could then race down the little hill at the top of our street. I think we could get four kids in at once, and while we didn't have a speedometer, we could go pretty darned fast. 

Alas, at the top of the street lived the neighbor known as "The Eyes and the Ears of the World." She was a mother of five kids, similar ages to my family, and you could get away with nothing if she was on watch, staring out her window. Before you got home, my mother would know that, say, you had been riding doubles on your bike with another kid. ("A little bird told me," my mother would say. But we were well aware it was AC, "The Eyes and the Ears of the World.")

While our buggy riding days were short-lived, we all survived those rides - and all the other quasi-dangerous things we played with.

The only serious play-related injury that I recall happened when a kid my age (we were 13) blew a finger off goofing around with some fireworks on July 4th. (We chalked it up to him being a public schooler, as any Catholic kid who was a "pub" was suspect, and came from a suspect family. Alcoholics or something.) 

Still, although we all survived, who in their right mind would want their child to have a dangerous toy?

So it's always good to see what's on the W.A.T.C.H. list for 2023. 

• Disney The Little Mermaid King Triton’s All-Powerful Trident: Potential For Blunt Force and Eye Injuries!
• Original Squishmallows-Raisy: Potential For Suffocation!
• Soccer Boppers: Potential For Blunt Force and Impact Injuries!
• Diecast Fast-Food Truck: Potential For Choking Injuries!
• Our Generation Hop In Dog Carrier: Potential For Choking Injuries!
• Orbeez Seeds- Rainbow: Potential For Choking and Ingestion Injuries!
• Splat-R-Ball Dude Perfect Blaster: Potential For Eye Injuries!
• B Toys Make A Melody Musical Instrument Set: Potential Ingestion and Choking Injuries!
• Zoom- O Turbo Disc Launcher: Potential For Face and Eye Injuries!
• Carve Pro Stunt Scooter: Potential For Head and Other Impact Injuries!

I'm not not familiar with any of these items, and some of them sound pretty innocuous. How dangerous can a little toy dog carrier be? And anything called Squishmallow?

Others, however...

Given that a kid can and will turn anything into a weapon, why encourage them by gifting them with a triton? And the Splat-R-Ball Dude Perfect Blaster? I don't want to even know what this is, but any toy with a name containing the words "splat," "dude," and "blaster" seems like a must-avoid. Ditto for the "turbo," "disc," "launcher," and the "pro," "stunt," "scooter." (Just as a kid can weaponize anything, they can also launch anything, not to mention use anything they can get their hands on as a prop for a stunt.)

Seriously, though, there are some really awful toys out there, and W.A.T.C.H. really does help weed them out.

A couple of years ago, they identified Calico Critters as a choking hazard and, indeed, two little ones had choked to death on the pacifier accessory.

This year, the toy was at long last recalled. 

Many of the most dangerous toys are choking hazards for babies and toddlers - kids who put anything and everything in their mouths.

Toys may look adorable. They may look like fun. 

But you really have to think twice before giving a kid something that's adorable and/or looks like fun. Adorableness and fun aren't worth any child's life.

Meatheads!

Don't get me wrong. I eat beef. But most of the beef I eat is consumed outside of the home. 

I'll order the hamburger. And I'll enjoy it. I'll order the steak. And I'll enjoy it. 

But mostly, I'm just not all that much of a meathead. Unless my meat-and-potatoes brother Rich is coming to dinner, I'm not apt to cook anything beefy. Chicken, fish, shrimp, scallops. Yes, indeed! Beef, ah, no.

So I wouldn't be in the market to have ButcherBox deliver me up a box o' beef. They do offer other "mains:" chicken, pork, seafood. But I'm just not a candidate for a monthly subscription to meat. (I am not, but could easily be, an in-house vegetarian. Unless I'm cooking for my bro.) And to me, subscriptions are for magazines, not meats.

Still, ButcherBox is a local company with a pretty good story to tell.

For one thing, the company is a Kickstarter success story. In its eight years, it's gone from zero revenue to well over $500M. And it's done so without requiring any infusion of funds from VCs. Not to mention that they've been "consistently profitable" pretty much since they were Kickstarted in 2015.

But all is not 100% humanely grass-fed golden at ButcherBox.

In fact, 2023 will be the first year that their revenues haven't increased. And in November they laid off 15 people. 

The company says that the layoffs aren't, despite a no-growth  year, due to poor financials. The company is still profitable. Instead, the layoffs were motivated by a desire to operate more efficiently. Pre-layoffs, the company had some managers who "were only managing a single employee." (Which having been-there, done-that, is not entirely as crazy as it sounds.)

While 2023 hasn't been death-knell dire, ButcherBox didn't experience the success they were used to. 

From the jump:

...ButcherBox had incredible timing. First, it tapped into the paleo and CrossFit trends, which advocated a meat-heavy diet. Then COVID came, pushing many consumers to get groceries delivered, rather than going to the store. (At one point in 2020, demand was so intense that ButcherBox had to temporarily stop accepting new customers.) (Source: Boston Globe)

So now they're coping with the new reality of people eating out more - hey, it's where I get my steak - and also, given inflation, more given to scrutiny of where their grocery spending is going. Plus, there's more (inevitable) competition.

So ButcherBox is thinking a tiny bit outside the box, and they're now selling dog treats. Next year, they're going to bring out a dog kibble product.

This makes marketing sense, in that they'll be able to upsell (or is it sidesell?) their customers who have dogs. If I'm recalling my Marketing 101 correctly, it takes a lot less money to sell something to an existing customer than it does to acquire a new customer from scratch. 

But dog kibble, not a box of meat? After all, dogs - those greedy little carnivores - love meat, so why not give them what they want. Which in a blind taste test is not likely to be kibble. 

The company chose to launch a dry food for dogs rather than a frozen food, because “we didn’t want to compete against ourselves” for space in the freezer, Salguero said.

Aha! These guys are good!

And I wish them continued success.

After all, one of these days I might get me a dog, and if someone (such as the pooch itself) could convince me to feed it kibble...

Well, you never know...

Political payola: alive and well in the Sunshine State.

I remember the payola scandal of the late 1950s.

I'm pretty sure that, even though I was a plenty smart kid who avidly read and watched news pretty much from the second or third grade on, I didn't quite understand it. Just that it had something to do with radio stations getting paid to plug songs, and that Dick Clark - who I avidly watched on American Bandstand - had something to do with it. Or not. (American Bandstand continues to hold a hallowed place in my heart. As a pre-adolescent I loved watching those cool teenagers dancing up a storm. And, as a grownup, I still get a kick out of knowing that my friend Peter's sister Joanne - a Philly teenager during the Bandstand era - was one of those cool teenagers dancing up a daily storm.)

When I think about payola, my thinking usually goes along the lines of sure it's corrupt, but it's not all that harmful. Of course, if your record was coming out on a small indie label with no money to pay disk jockeys off for some pay for play, you were, indeed, harmed. So there may be some old geezer out there who could have been another Elvis Presley, but never got the chance. (Note: I have no idea whatsoever if anyone paid radio stations to play early Elvis.) It's perhaps my own moral laxity that brings me to a place where, when it comes to spinning rock 'n roll 45's in the fifties, I pretty much see it as a victimless crime that's not all that much of a crime.

But a Florida political news site that gives preferential coverage to candidates who advertise with them?

Hmmmmm. My moral-o-meter starts to rise.

The website in question is called Florida Politics. 

The website is Florida's answer to Politico: It illuminates developments on politics and policy for insiders and news buffs, and it influences what other outlets report about the state. And it reflects the drive of its founder, Peter Schorsch. (Source: NPR)

Florida Politics. I can only imagine...

I was curious enough to go take a look, but there was way too much of an all Ron DeSantis, all the time vibe for me. (Note: I have no idea whatsoever if anyone pays Florida Politics to cover Ron DeSantis. I suspect that it would be hard for a news site about Florida Politics to exist that wasn't pretty much all Ron DeSantis, all the time. And, in fact, Schorsch is no DeSantis fanboy:

Schorsch was one of the first to argue that Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis would fail to take flight in the Republican presidential primaries.

When it comes to Florida politics, Peter Schorsch has become a pretty big influencer, and political consultants on both sides of the aisle often advise their candidates to buy advertising or suffer the consequences. (I.e., limited coverage.)

So, is Florida Politics reporting the news, or making the news? Hmmmmm. (So far, I see we're a two-hmmmmm post.) Hmmmmm.

Needless to say, Schorsch strenuously disagrees with the categorization of what he does as pay-to-play. 

Even so, Schorsch acknowledges that outfits that advertise with his properties get more attention. And he concedes that he focuses more coverage on lobbyists, campaigns, causes and corporations when friends are involved. "I still have very strong strategic business relationships with people. That opens doors, provides revenues."

"That still generates a level of discomfort with ... legacy media people," he tells NPR and Floodlight.

Well, it generates a level of discomfort with me, too.

In Schorsch's view, the old newspaper model is dying on the vine, and his model - what he calls "combination journalism" - is just hunky-dory.

"As things evolved, I started to accept some of the rules of journalism, of the business of journalism," Schorsch says. "And some of them I didn't."

For example, correspondence obtained by NPR and Floodlight shows Florida Politics invites candidates to pay for content about campaign activities like endorsements or fundraising. A review found that Florida Politics does not label the content as advertisements.

"I don't think I've ever held myself up as a journalist. I've said that I'm a publisher, that I publish the work of other journalists," Schorsch says. "There are still gray areas that I get into."

He considers these "gray areas" as just embracing reality in which "new rules" have evolved. 

It's not just that "new rules" have evolved. It's that traditional newsrooms closely covering politics has devolved. There just ain't as much of it as there used to be. And, admittedly, many outlets in the MSM have always provided preferential treatment to the candidates they agree with ideologically. C.f., Fox News. 

Still, even if there are plenty of outlets doing it, it does seem pretty icky that a supposedly neutral website would focus more (positive) attention on candidates who paid them. Or run advertorials without labeling them as such. It's not as if Citizens United, Fox, Newsmax, and Twitter aren't doing enough harm; we need additional bad actors like we need more Trump clones.

Almost every major news organization disavows publishing paid content that is not publicly disclosed. Candidates for federal office risk violating the law if they do not disclose paid advertisements on cable news and online outlets. There are no such laws in Florida for state races, lawyers say.

So Schorsch is free to play under his own rules. 

To me, "the media" really does need to have a wall between editorial - support whoever you want - and news (just the facts, ma'am).

Outrageously, one Republican legislator claims that he "paid Schorsch for coverage says the publisher offered to change stories after they were published, as long as he continued advertising." Which Schorsch claims not to recall this. 

In any case, Schorsch's model is working pretty well for him, and he's looking to expand throughout the Southeast, to Alabama, Arkansas, Georgia, Kentucky, Tennessee, Texas, Virginia and the Carolinas.

Swell.

Schorsch has something of a checkered past: kiting checks, stealing from clients (while he was in the throes of gambling addiction, which can happen). He's also been in trouble with the Florida Elections Commission (which probably takes some doing).

But it's his checkered present and future that I'm more concerned with.

There's so much misinformation out there, what the world needs now are those outlets that report the truth and debunk the lies.

This isn't like paying a DJ to play your record. The moral, ethical, and political stakes are pretty high.

Cry, cry, cry the beloved country.

Bada Bing

It's been over 16 years since The Sopranos went off the air, and the series remains one of the greatest shows ever. Talk about Must See TV! I rewatched it a couple of years ago, and it's still brilliant - an amazing combination of funny, sad, and horrifying.

One of the best things about it was that it introduced me to a lot of actors I wasn't familiar with.

I knew Edie Falco (Carm), Nancy Marchand (Livia), Lorraine Bracco (Dr. Melfi), and a few of the minor characters who made it into a couple of episodes - folks like John Heard and Steve Buscemi. I knew regular Steven Van Zandt (Silvio) from the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, earth-shocking, hard rocking, booty-shaking, earth-quaking, love-making, Viagra-taking, history-making E-Street Band. And I'd seen James Gandolfini (Tony) in a couple of things.

But many of the actors were new to me. And most of those previously-unknowners, as far as I can tell, didn't get all that much of a long term career lift from the show.

Other than Michael Imperioli (Christopher), who's been in and out of a few things I've seen - loved him in White Lotus - I can't think of a previously unknown Sopranos actor who had much of an afterlife once the show faded to black. (Which is not to say they haven't. I only watch so much television, and a lot of it is news and HGTV.)

Anyway, it's understandable that an actor, whether working steadily or scrambling for occasional roles, would try to make a buck by trading on the continued interest in/affection for The Sopranos by selling autographed coasters from the Bada Bing (I have no idea if that's a thing), menus from Satriale's (I have no idea if that's a thing), video'd birthday greetings (this I know is a thing, as Cameo has made it so), and anything else that might strike a fan’s fancy.

One of the unfamiliar (to me, pre-Sopranos) actors was Vincent Curatola, who played Tony's fellow mob boss, his friend, his enemy, Johnny "Sack" Sacrimoni. 

Curatola still acts, and he also sings, writes, and makes guest appearances at corporate (?) and Sopranos-related events. 

But he doesn't sell memorabilia, personalized videos, or an acting workshop through Facebook. In fact, Curatola doesn't have a Facebook account. Some enterprising thief, however, was able to filch pictures and videos from Cameo (where Curatola does sell his wares) and was selling the fakery to "customers."

When nothing was delivered, the people who were screwed were understandably upset. And contacted the Curatolas asking where their stuff was. 

Curatola and his wife (a fellow Maureen, by the way) tried to get Facebook to close out the fake account. No dice.

So they did something Johnny Sack would have found unthinkable - after all, he went to prison rather than turn rat - and called the FBI.  

Other Sopranos cast members, including Michael Imperioli (Christopher Moltisanti) and Federico Castelluccio (Furio Giunta), also became victims of the 

Facebook impersonators. ( Source: Boston Globe)

They’ve also whistled in the Feds. Wonder what they’d make of this down at the Bada Bing?

Python Hunter? Python Hunter? That's really a job?

There are two members of the animal kingdom that I'm not especially fond of. That would be rats and snakes.

Rats, well, ugh. Just ugh.

And snakes? Let's just say that while I'm grateful to St. Patrick for driving the snakes out of Ireland, I wish he'd made it to the New World and ditto'd his magic here. 

Fortunately, I don't see a lot of snakes in these parts.

Oh, I saw plenty of garter snakes growing up. And one time, up in Maine, I got way too close to a black racer, which is way too long for comfort, even though they don't come equipped with poisonous venom, and they don't generally bite humans. (Props to black racers, however: they do eat rats.)

But snakes are definitely not my thing.

Which is another reason to avoid warm, swampy climes like Florida, which is loaded with snakes.

One snake they're loaded with is Burmese pythons, which - unlike the black racer - can be nasty to humans. You could even find yourself swallowed whole and crushed while making your way down the reptile's alimentary canal. What a way to go! (I think I'd rather be attacked by rats.)

Just like so many of the state's citizens, who are blow-ins from Northern states, the Burmese pythons aren't native to Florida. They were imported from Asia, and dumped into Florida waterways when they got too big to keep as pets. (They can grow to 16 feet+.) Dumped into the Florida waterways, the pythons found a way to survive and, over the years, they got a foothold - if footless snakes can get a foothold anywhere - in places like the Everglades. Where these nonnatives have done a lot of harm.

While the federal and state government have spent billions of dollars to restore the Everglades, pythons have decimated native birds, rabbits, and deer since they were documented as an established population in 2000. (Source: Boston Globe)

And so the state of Florida is going after those nasty old pythons. 

They hold annual python hunts, which attracts both amateurs and professionals:

This year’s Python Challenge drew 1,035 hunters and netted 209 pythons. The winner caught 20 snakes and received $10,000; [Amy] Siewe won a prize for catching a python that measured 10 feet, 9 inches.

And throughout the year, the state hire pros. 

State agencies pay about 100 contractors to keep hunting throughout the year, giving them access to levees that are closer to the human-made canals running through the Everglades — closer to the snakes. Since 2000, more than 19,000 pythons have been removed from the Florida outdoors, a little more than two-thirds of those by contracted “python removal agents,” according to the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission.

"Python removal agents?" I'm sure there are worse jobs, but none of them are leaping to mind at the moment. 

They couldn't pay me enough become a python hunter. 

And they wouldn't even if they could.

The program, which began in 2017, is not especially lucrative, paying up to $18 an hour, plus $50 per foot for the first 4 feet of snake and $25 for each subsequent foot. Remove a python nest? $200.

I don't care what the bonus is. $18 an hour??? Minimum wage in Massachusetts is $15/hour - increasing to $16 in 2024.  

And not that working fast food, or as a home health aide, or as a Walmart greater, is an easy job, any of these jobs has to be a ton easier than hunting pythons. After all, it can take up to 12 hours to catch one. A lot more daunting a task than getting a shopping cart for a Walmart shopper. 

But for some folks, it's a dream job.

Amy Siewe used to sell real estate in Indiana. Now she's a hunter, guide, and trainer. Siewe and her fellow pythonesers 

...have created a cottage industry around an invasive species that has been so successful at adapting to Florida that it appears here to stay, despite years of efforts to eliminate it.

Part of Siewe's contribution to the python cottage industry is being a maker. She skins the pythons she captures, has them dyed, and turns them into "python-leather products, including Apple Watch bands." And sometimes, Siewe is a first-responder:

In July, she helped pull a record 19-foot python off the torso of a college student who was hunting with his cousin.

 If that doesn't give you the willies...

Python hunting may be a job, but it's sure on my No Me's Need Apply list. Even if I were to find myself in Florida and needed work, I'd rather be a cashier at Publix. 

Talk about a fulfilling job!

In October, my ankle went wonky. Tendonitis and/or something called tarsal tunnel syndrome. (Think carpal tunnel syndrome, only in the ankle rather than the wrist.)

For a few days, I couldn't put any weight on my right foot, which meant dragging/hopping around. I had the weird foresight last summer to get myself a cane, which I actually used when I went hobbling back from MGH, where I went for an xray. (Ubered over: a 5 minute trip, if that; hobbled back home, taking my time to navigate the treacherous brick sidewalks.)

The ankle, thanks to rest, exercise, ice packs, and foot soaks, is about 95% back. Unfortunately, the limping I've been doing threw my gait so far off that I've developed some tendon strain behind my left knee.

My ankle problem is, of course, a minor nuisance at worst. I missed a couple of volunteer shifts, and I haven't been doing my 7 miles a day - so my Fitbit's been idled. 

The minor nuisance-y aspects did get me thinking of how terrible it must be to have substantial, permanent mobility issues. Not to mention if those mobility issues are compounded by developmental disabilities. 

So I was delighted to read about Massachusetts Assistive Technology Centers. 

At the Worcester facility profiled in The Boston Globe,  

...designers and technicians customize and adapt equipment, from shower chairs to iPads, to make them safer, more comfortable, or easier to use for people with developmental disabilities. The solutions can be as complicated as rebuilding a motorized chair, or as basic as laminating a cardboard box, as one of the adaptive equipment designers, Gabrielle Reis, discovered during weeks of trial and error as she attempted to build a tray for a wheelchair.

Massachusetts is one of a handful of states that provide these services, which are largely in support of residential facilities and group homes run by the Department of Developmental Services (DDS).  

The mother of one person helped by the Worcester  Assistive Technology Center spoke about her son's unique needs. The young man has cerebral palsy. He can't walk and "has hips so stiff it's impossible for him to sit." Making a bad situation worse, he's nonverbal. 

The Center is working on a motorized device that will better meet the fellow's need - as they've been doing for many years. A testimony to the importance of the Center in this family's life: they recently decided not to move to California, which lacks the sort of service the family relies on. 

“I could not live without them,” [the mother] said. “The whole reason I’m staying in Massachusetts is because we have this team.”

Across Massachusetts, there are:

...10 designers, five adaptive equipment technicians, one occupational therapist, and an adaptive clothing designer.

Chadwick Shrum, one of the Worcester designers, has an undergraduate degree in biomedical engineering, and a master's in mechanical engineering. Another Worcester designer, Nick Whitaker, studied mechanical engineering and has his degree in architecture. Both were drawn to their work by a shared "passion for tinkering and creative thinking."

 “All the ‘MacGyver’ and ‘Junkyard Wars’ I watched helped out,” Whitaker said.

Yes, if you're a creative tinkerer, having a job that prizes tinkering and creative thinking is important. But I'm guessing that having a job that helps those in dire need of help is also pretty rewarding. I'm also guessing that both of these fellows would be able to make more money in the private sector. 

Shrum and Whitaker are in the process of reworking a power chair so that its owner can stand upright for the first time in 10 years. Among other tasks that the souped up chair will enable is the ability to reach into cabinets.  

His job, Shrum said, gives him the opportunity to see firsthand the value of his work.

“To see the joy on her face, it makes all the work worthwhile,” he said.

We all want to be fulfilled by our work. Sounds like working at the Assistive Technology Center provides that fulfillment. 

There are fantasies, and then there are FANTASIES. Part 2

The Neiman-Marcus Fantasy Gifts Book is always a hoot. I have no idea whose fantasies these are, but it is fun to see what my financial betters toss their coins at. That is, if anyone actually buys these high-end stocking stuffers. 

Anyway, yesterday I wrote about the first four gifts in the 2023 wish book. Today, I'll graze through the final four.

One of One Cadillac Carmen Celestiq ($975,000)

If you've ever wanted to go ridin' on the freeway of love in your pink Cadillac; if you're looking for a bespoke, hand-built motor vehicle; if you're interested in the best dining and accommodations that the Motor City has to offer; and if you've got $975K to spare for all of the above, this is the experience for you.

The CELESTIQ, an all-electric vehicle, is "unlike anything available," and the buyer will get to see how a one-off, artisanal car is designed and built. The features will include a:

... 55” pillar-to-pillar HD LED display [which] harmonizes with a studio-quality aural experience to transport your senses into the symphonic, and the hands-free advanced driver assistance comes to life with Super Cruise.

55" pillar-to-shining-pillar HD LED display? Talk about distracted driving. Good thing there'll be Super Cruise when you want to pop into autonomous vehicle mode so you can chill or watch or game or otherwise transport your senses.

But the million dollar question is, who's going to spend nearly a million dollars for a bespoke Cadillac. Time will tell. Or not.

Milan Design Experience with Nina Magon ($380,000)

Maybe if I knew who Nina Magon is, this experience would be a bit more appealing. Alas, I hadn't a clue about her "immersive interior design" and ability to "compose transformative environments." Nor did I know anything about her "signature blend of timelessness and modernity."

As someone who likes to immerse herself in her home, I'm all for immersive interior design. And transformative environments? I'm all for them, too. When I did my condo reno - which was now eight years ago - I absolutely transformed my environment big time. And, coincidentally, deployed my own personal, Nina Magon-like signature blend of timelessness and modernity. 

It cost me plenty, but nowhere near $380K. 

While Nina Magon is HQ'd in Houston, this experience involves a "whirlwind trip to Milan," where whirlwind = four nights/three days for two. This includes a side trip to Lake Como. If it included lunch with George Clooney, then we'd really be talking...

Anyway, if you choose this gift, you'll get to traipse around high-end Italian furniture design factories, and work with Nina to design an area in your home - up to 1,000 square feet (roughly 80% of the area of my condo) and furnish it with $100K worth of luxury Italian furniture. 

My favorite element of this experience - other than the possible sighting of George Clooney - is the throw-in of 20 signed copies of Nina's new book, Evoke, "for special gifting to your friends and family this holiday season." Alas, I don't know 20 folks who'd want this coffee table book. Guess I'll pass.

Immersive Baccarat Crystal Experience ($75,000)

It's hard to cheap out on a fantasy gift, but the Baccarat experience, at the low, low price of $75K, will let your special Santa do just that. 

With this gift, you and a pal can "craft your own masterpieces." And it looks like Nina Magon isn't the only one who does immersive. As part of this immersive experience - is there any other kind? - you spend a night in NYC at the luxury Baccarat Hotel, where the low-end rooms appear to start at over $1K per night. And you get a "curated" dinner by a Michelin-starred chef. (Michelin star? Good big boy!) Then you first-class jet off to Paris for a few nights, where the luxe continues. And where you get a jaunt out to the Baccarat factory where you'll get to blow your own crystal. Stop! You're blowing my mind!

Alas, to me, while the price is attractive (in a relative and relatively insane way), a little crystal goes a mighty long way.

Star Performer with American Ballet Theater ($195,000)

I can definitely see someone buying this one for their precious little ballet child. After all, you'd get to see your tiny dancer actually have a walk-on (pirouette-on?) role in "a two-performance experiential extravaganza" of either Swan Lake or Romeo and Juliet. The tiny (or not so tiny) dancer will get to shadow a Principal Dancer to hone their performance. And then:

For your debut, you’ll be transformed into character with a costume fitting by the Company’s wardrobe department and the hair and makeup team. After you perform, you’ll watch a portion of the show from the stage wings and step onto the stage once more to present flowers to a Principal Dancer. Before you pirouette back home, after the final curtain has fallen, you’ll receive flowers, pose for photos with dancers, and take with you ballet shoes signed by a Principal Dancer—and have your name listed in “Playbill” as a supporter for the entire American Ballet Theatre 2024 Summer Season.

While you'll get to work with whatever Principal is available, "other dancers may choose to participate/interact with you, but at their own inclination." Hah!

Of all the fantasies in this year's catalog, this is pretty much the only one I can see being the actual fantasy of an actual person - most likely a little ballet princess. 

The experience is billed as "the ultimate money-can't-buy fantasy pinnacle for any ballet or dance fan."

Duh? Money, in fact, can buy it. $195K worth of money.

What makes me smile about this experience is imagining a stiff, clumsy, two-left-feet person such as myself buying it. Would my performance be me walking across the stage in my costume, hoping not to trip over my own feet? I can see the Principal Dancer rolling her eyes when I drop the flowers I'm supposed to put in her arms. I can see the other dancers choosing not to interact with me, but hopefully stifling their inclination to laugh (or sneer) in my face.

All these fantasies...I'm just exhausted.

There are fantasies, and then there are FANTASIES. Part 1

One of my absolutely fav Christmas traditions is paging (virtually) through the annual Neiman Marcus catalogs. There's the pedestrian, everyone-can-afford-something catalog, featuring items like a $5K expresso machine and a $95 "personalized" version of Goodnight Moon. (Note to kiddie book buyers and readers: you can personalize the Goodnight Moon for free by using your words to add the kiddo's name every once in a while. E.g., rather than "goodnight stars/goodnight air/goodnight noises everywhere," you could say "goodnight [child's name goes here]/goodnight air/goodnight noises everywhere.)

But the real N-M Christmas gift to the world is the Fantasy Gifts catalog, which offers a bunch of outlandish - and

outlandishly pricey - experiences designed to cater to folks with a lot of discretionary spending power.

The fantasies aren't mine. But that's a good thing, because the price points are just a teensy-tiny bit out of range for the wallet in the Dooney & Bourke pocketbook I got at Nordstrom Rack.

What's in this year's book?

A Disney Animation Experience ($510,000)

For a mere half-a-mil (plus change) the "talented artists at the Walt Disney Animation Studios" will create an animated character of your very own you, using your very own voice, and plunked into a cameo appearance of "a special animated short video." (And by short they really do mean short. We're talking two-minutes long here.)

Now however talented these Disney artists are, it seems to me that most of us could find someone to create (using a design app or AI) an animated character using your very own voice, and give it more than a cameo appearance in a vid. For a lot less than $510K. So I figured that there must be a bit more to this experience. And there is a bit more.

Along with three buddies, you'll get a tour of the Animation Studios. There'll be "special meet-and-greets and photo opportunities," but it's not clear who are what those meet-and-greets and photo opps are with. Is it your fellow animated characters, like Olaf or Moana? Walt Disney's dead, so might it be Bob Iger?

There's also an invite to "the premiere of an upcoming major Disney film in Hollywood, California." 

I realize this ain't my fantasy at all, but it does seem like an awful little for an awful lot.

Olympic Games Paris 2024 with Ralph Lauren and Team USA ($210,000)

Well, at $210K, this experience is more reasonably priced. But going to the Olympics with Ralph Lauren? I mean, I love my Ralph Lauren PJ's an all, but Ralph Lauren has designed some of the most fug ugly team uniforms ever. And it's not exactly clear whether you're joining Ralph Lauren the actual human being designer or something else, as the description does say that you'll be "traveling with this renowned American brand."

But the trip for two does include three nights in an (unspecified) luxe hotel (hopefully bedbug-less), and dinner at Ralph's restaurant in Paris, which features American cuisine, which is definitely what you want to be eating when you're in Paris. I mean, who doesn't love a good burger and/or Maryland crab cakes?

When you're at Ralph's, you and your traveling companion will be kitted out in a Ralph Lauren outfit. Plus there's a lot of other RL clothing, including the uniforms for the Opening and Closing Ceremonies, which you'll get to attend. Plus you can hang out with the athletes (including legacies, along with sponsors and guests) at the Team USA House.

This experience might be worth it if you got to actually walk in the parade of nations for the Opening and Closing Ceremonies. Now that would be an experience. Alas, you'll be sitting in the stands like all the other Olympic fans and wannabes.

Yachting Treasure Hunt through Indonesia with Pelorus ($485,000)

Back in the half-a-mil range, there's a nine-day adventure for you and five friends that will take you to Bali and from there on an "experiential yacht expedition." Your first couple of days you'll be chillaxing with spa treatments, kayaking, diving and "immersing yourself in local communities and traditions."

Then, while savoring a private candlelit dinner in a secluded cove, a message in a bottle will signal the start of your treasure hunt.

The treasure hunt's clues will take you on a wend around Indonesia's islands and a jungle hike. At he end of the treasure hunt - and I'm pretty sure they don't let you miss any of the clues - there's a $150K voucher for N-M jewelry. As an extra-added feature, the yacht uses biodiesel fuel and "four-stroke outboard motors on tenders, which allow them to run cleanly and more economically." You know what would be cleaner and more economically? Not flying six people to Bali to swan around the Indonesian archipelago.

Cannes & Carats with Chopard ($500,000)
If you've got that half-mil for a Christmas splurge, you really like jewelry a lot more than what you could get at N-M for a paltry $150K worth of voucher, this experience might be your thang. You get a whopping $500K voucher to on a unique piece of Chopard something-or-other.

The rest of the experience: luxury hotel, a ticket to the Cannes Film Festival, a walk on the red carpet (after you've had your hair and makeup professionally done), hanging around "the famous Chopard rooftop at the Hôtel Martinez, as well as food and drinks from 10:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m."

What happens at 7:00 p.m., I wonder? You're on your own snacking out of the Hôtel mini-fridge? And speaking of on your own, this appears to be an experience for one. Nothing wrong with solo traveling, but I'd feel like a goof walking the red carpet on my own.

All this fantasizing? I'm just exhausted. Back with Part 2 tomorrow.