Why am I not surprised? (Even if it's just GoFundMe.)

My Irish forebears didn't leave Ireland as the (direct) result of the famine. They came over in the 1870's for the usual reasons: poverty, and too many offspring chasing survival on a poor, rocky farm that was not infinitely divisible. My great-grandfather John Rogers hailed from County Roscommon; my great-grandmother Margaret Joyce Rogers was from Mayo. Roscommon and Mayo were two of the counties hit hardest by An Gorta Mór (The Great Famine), losing nearly one-third of their population to death or emigration during the famine years (1845-1852).

My other set of Irish ancestors, Bridget and Matthew Trainor, were from County Louth, just north of Dublin, which was relatively unscathed by the famine.

But whether directly scathed or unscathed by the famine, victim or survivor, the entire population of Ireland for generations since has been impacted by genetic or race memory of this unparalleled catastrophe. The same is true in places where there are a lot of folks descended from famine (and non-famine) Irish.

One such place is Boston, where in the late 1990's "they" erected what has to be one of THE most hideous momunents ever to memorialize any tragic event, anywhere. It's a two-parter, one statue depicting a starving family in rags who'd just sailed into Amerikay on a coffin ship, the other showing a well-dressed, prosperous Irish-American family who'd achieved the American dream. (Weren't those the days?)

The momument has been controversy since the jump, and in 2013 wae dubbed "the most mocked and reviled public sculpture in Boston" by the Boston Globe's art critic. I can't speak for all Bostonians, but I have personally mocked and reviled it plenty of times.

But I digress.

What prompted this post was an article I came across a few months ago stating "Ireland named most generous country in the world."

This made sense to me. 

Time and again over the years, whenever there's some disaster or another - famine in Africa, the destruction of Gaza - there's news of Irish relief organizations stepping in to help out, punching well above their weight. (Ireland's population is roughly 5 million, 7 million if you count Norther Ireland, which would give it the same population as Massachusetts.)

Anyway, I was enjoying the glowup, basking in the halo effect  - ah, the wonderful Irish - when I clicked through on the click bait and read that the metric was per capita donors to fundraisers listed on GoFundMe. And that for the seventh year running, Ireland comes out on top. Or the 20 countries GFM operates in. The US ranks second.

Not that there's anything wrong with donating to GoFundMe fundraisers. I do it all that time, most recently to the one set up for T.J. Sabula, the Ford worker who in January yelled "pedophile protector" at Trump during an appearance at a Ford plant. Trump's response was to shoot T.J. the finger and mouth the words "fuck you." It wasn't clear whether Trump was acting in his capacity as president of the US, president of Venezuela, or receipient of the FIFA peace prize.

I find GoFundMe endlessly fascinating. Pretty much everything about it: how within nanoseconds of some sort of tragedy/emergency, someone's set up a fundraiser to cash in; what people want the money for (does anyone really need a $50K funeral?); how one fundraiser will grab attention - and donations - while another near identical one will not; what a disgrace that people need to raise money to take care of medical expenses that should be covered, etc.

Five years ago, I helped run a pretty successful GoFundMe for a friend who'd been diagnosed with ALS and needed home renovations and 24/7 care. My friend was a very well known Boston personage, famous for his kindness and generosity, and hitting our goal was relatively easy. (It helped that someone gave $50K. I thought at first it was a mistake. Who gives $50K via GFM? But as one of the managers, I had access to the names of the anonymous donors, and I recognized the $50K donor as someone who had made hefty donations in the past to the charity my friend had founded.)

And while I won't say I'm a regular-regular GoFundMe donor, every month or so, something will catch my eye, and I'm good for 25 or 50 bucks. I donated $50 to T.J.'s cause, helping in my very small way to let the United State achieve second place among GoFundMe nations.

For Ireland:

The new figures show that one in ten people in Ireland made a donation through GoFundMe this year, with over 560,000 donors supporting causes both at home and abroad. One Irish city, known for its charm and charitable nature, topped the list overall. (Source: The Irish Star)

BTW, that charming and charitable Irish city is Galway, which is pretty much my favorite place on earth.  

GoFundMe’s Global CEO Tim Cadogan said: “Ireland’s exceptional generosity continues to set a powerful example globally.”

“Every donation, big or small, fuels hope and makes a real difference. What we see this year reflects a deep-rooted compassion that unites people across the country.”

Even though it's not a matter of "Eire Number One" for overall charitable giving, I'm not surprised that the Irish would support causes through GoFundMe. It's a small country, and people know people who know people, so why not take part in a whip-round for the kiddo in Cork who lost both her legs in a farm accident? Or the fundraiser for the little Kerry cutiepie who needs to go to the States for treatement for neuroblastoma?

Bottom line: when it comes to helping folks out, Éire Abú. I'm happy to know yez. 

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Image Source: Atlas Obscura

Wanker

Sir Benjamin Slade doesn't appear to have done much with his life, other than enjoy the life and trappings of a minor British aristocrat. He's a baronet who lives in the big old pile he inherited (along with the title) when his dear papa passed on when Sir Benjamin was still a teenager. He allegedly got rich as a "shipping magnate," but more recently earned his coin of the realm hiring out his pile as a function space.

Baronet, btw, is not that big a deal. Baronets aren't members of the peerage, eligible to join the House of Lords. They can be called Sir, but not Lord. Unlike actual Barons. (Inquiring minds want to know where the Duke of Earl fits in. Slade does have blood ties to some king or another in the way, way way back. Maybe Charles I from 400 years in the way back. Or is it Charles II?)

Anyway, one thing Sir Benjamin hasn't managed to accomplish during his 79 years of life is produce an heir. A male heir, as baronetcies - unlike many estates/titles - remain a guy thing.

So for the past decade or so, Sir Benjamin has been trying to find someone to produce an heir and a spare while also helping him run his estate. The pay isn't all that great - only £50,000-a-year (or about $67K). But she also gets a car, food, housing, expenses, a bonus, and holidays. I'm guessing there's some sort of allowance for mumsie to raise the new baronet to manhood. Maybe there's a dowager cottage for her down the line. And I do think she gets to be a wife, too. It all adds up.

Sir Benajamin has managed to father a girl child, but she doesn't count, baronetcy-wise.

He does have a rather detailed list of requirements.

The ideal candidate must be "a good breeder," but I guess that just goes with the territory. She's got to be at least 5'6", but can't be a Guardian reader. The height requirement I get. He doesn't want a mini baronet running around, I guess. And the Guardian? I'm guessing he's trying to weed out free thinkers and lefties. As a Guardian subscriber, I can't imagine that a lot of my fellow readers would be lining up to produce an heir for this guy. But whatever.

The gal of his dreams must be a shooter and have her own shotgun. While a driver's license is required - she'll need to be able to charge around his 1,300 acres in what is no doubt a Range Rover - a helicopter license would be a nice to have. 

Sir Benajamin is a social-type guy, so his mate has got to love "ballroom dancing, [and] playing bridge and backgammon."

...She must be able to run two castles and having estate, legal and accountancy training 'would be useful'. 

Make that two castles and a grouse moor.

Oh, yes, and the future mother of his heirs should have "amorial bearings." Now anyone and everyone can get some sort of "amorial bearing." Here's the coat of arms of the illustrious Rogers family of Ireland.

But in this case, he's looking for someone who's part of the British class apparatus. I will say he should be careful about what he's wishing for. Lady Di and Fergie were both aristocrats, and look what happened there. Princess Kate is nothing but a commoner, and that seems to be turning out okie dokes. 

It probably goes without saying that the old git harbors a few aristrocratic prejudices. 

No Scorpios for some reason. And:

...she can't come from countries beginning with 'I' that have green in their flag, which rules out residents of Ireland, India, Italy, Ivory Coast and Iran.

Oddly enough this doesn't rule out Israelis, but I can't really see him wanting someone from Israel. That said, an Israeli woman would likely know how to use a gun and maybe even, courtesy of the IDF, have a heliocopter license. 

On clarification, looks like no Israelis need apply, either, as he's not looking for anyone "from countries where they don't wear overcoats in the winter."

He further said: 'I don't mind Canadians, Americans, Germans and Northern Europeans - what I like to call similar people. I don't think marrying an Eskimo is for me.

Even though Eskimos do wear overcoats.  

'What I just need is a nice, ordinary country girl who knows and understands things.

Well, I know things and understand a wanker when I see one. Good luck finding the breeder of your dreams, Sir Benjamin.  

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Content Source: Where else but The Daily Mail. 

Image Source for the old wanker: The Times of London 

Sports Bahs He-ah!

Winter is long, cold, dreary, and dark - especially in these parts, especially as you get older - and whether or not Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow yesterday, there's still a long, cold, dreary, and dark (although less dark by a few minutes each day) stretch ahead of us. 

But Truck Day, when the equipment vans depart Fenway Park for spring training in Florida, is harbinger of baseball. And that was yesterday.

So this ancient Red Sox fan's thoughts are turning to my favorite sport in general, and to the Olde Towne Team in particular. 

I haven't gotten any tickets yet, but plan on getting out to Fenway a couple of times this season.

Where I will get myself a sausage sandwich (or maybe a hot dog), a bottle of water, and a bag - alas, it no longer comes in a box! - of Cracker Jack, which I will purchase from the under-the-stands concessions, and a Sports Bar from a vendor in the stands. (A sports bar is chocolate covered vanilla and chocolate ice cream that doesn't taste anything like ice cream, vanilla, or chocolate, but is rather a magnificent taste treat all on its own.)

When I buy my food and bev at Fenway, I will tip generously, as these folks work hard, and will be happy that, even if below the stands I have to order from a kiosk, I'm being served by a human.

The concession workers at Fenway Park aren't employed by the Red Sox organization. They work for food-industrial complex behemoth Aramark. And in late December, the union for the Fenway concession workers (and for the MGM Musica Hall workers, right next door) announced that they had:

...secured a new union contract that supporters say provides better wages, clearer staffing protocols, and stronger job protections against automation, such as self-checkout machines. (Source: Boston Globe)

The union, which represents 1,000 workers, had held a brief strike last summer and had filed an unfair labor practices charge with the NLRB. Things had gotten pretty contentious. But they're happy now with a five-year contract which will provide the union's members with the security they were looking for and, in the words of UNITE HERE Local 26 president Carlos  Aramayo, “It is really changing what it means to work at Fenway Park.”

Good! 

Aramayo said the contract “provides the largest wage increases in the history of Fenway Park, by a significant measure.” Nontipped employees, such as dishwashers, will get a $10 hourly raise over the next five years, while tipped employees, like beer sellers, will get a $5 raise over the length of the contract, with both groups also receiving retroactive pay.

There are also increased tips for caterers, and the hearty souls who race around the stands pushing hot dogs, beer, and Sports Bars will get a larger cut of what they well. (The way these folks work! Their legs must be like iron!) The agreement also resolves the outstanding NLRB complaint. 

Automation was also on the line during negotiations. Those self-checkout kiosks! Under the agreement, Aramark can't add any more "machines that sell both alcohol and food," but can add beer-only machines. 

I was delighted to see that MIT Sloan professor Tom Kochan was the mediator between the union and Aramark. Kochan is now emeritus, and although I never took a course with him, I remember him from my years at Sloan (Class of 1981, so a long time ago). He's an advocate for paying attention to how technology impacts work so that the economy doesn't reward the big at the expense of the littles - something we need more of. 

Especially as artificial intelligence continues to encroach on workplaces, Kochan said the Fenway contract could be a blueprint for how employers can roll out technologies but still “cushion the adjustment” for potentially affected workers.

“I think this is a landmark agreement,” he said.

We'll see what happens five years down the road, but if Tom Kochan says this is a good deal, that's good enough for me.

More of a careful, thoughtful approach to implementing technology that impacts workers, please. 

Meanwhile, I look forward to a concession worker roaming the stands, calling out those words I so long to hear as we sit through the remnants of the long, cold, dreary, and dark season: Sports Bahs He-ah!

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Image Source: World Socialist Web Site

RIP, Circle Furniture

I was a big fan of Circle Furniture, a small local chain selling interesting, well-designed, decently made, and not crazily expensive furniture and home decor.

I have pine-green painted dresser in the den that holds my sweaters. 

During the pandemic, I spent entirely too much time keeping company with my 1920's vintage mahogany dining room set and chairs. I had never polished the chairs, and if you leaned back in one of them, you were apt to break the struts. I was just plain sick of the whole thing. So I masked up and headed to Circle to get a new cherry dining room table and some cool chairs that don't fracture when you lean back in them. I love my table and chairs, which actually go pretty well with the mahogany credenza that was the only piece of my prior set I kept. (A friend of mine has a niece who lives in a 1920's home and is also a furniture refinisher. She and her husband were delighted to take my vintage furniture off my hands.)

When Trump was elected in 2016, I realized that I was going to need a comfy chair for TV watching, so I walked over to Circle the Sunday after the election and ended up spending about twice as much as I planned on for a really comfy chair. 

There may also be an arm chair in my living room that came from Circle, but I'm not entirely sure.

One thing I loved about Circle was that it was family owned and operated. When I went in to buy the table and chairs, I met with the daughter of the owners. She was great to talk to and, it turned out, we'd both gone to business school at Sloan (MIT). 

But Circle was sold a few years back to a couple who apparently didn't know what they were doing. And they managed to overexpand and run the company into the ground. 

A company-wide email sent [on December 19th] told employees that all stores were closed until further notice. Then, on Tuesday morning, employees received an email confirming they’re being laid off. (Source: Boston Globe)

The Bah Humbug layoff date? December 23rd. But, hey, good news: your health benefits would stay in place until December 31st. 

All the Circle stores are closed, all the employees are gone, but it's not clear what's happening to those who'd ordered from Circle prior to the closing. Have they been treated as callously as the employees were? Are they getting their deliveries? Their deposits back?

Thankfully, my sister Trish is not one of them. She bought a gorgeous new couch from Circle last year and has fortunately had it in her possession for a few months now. Phew!

What I found most astonishing about Circle's layoffs, its precipitous closing, was that the company's president, Jonathan Boyle, didn't know anything about it. 

“They were having some financial difficulties they were trying to resolve and work around, but that’s all I know,” he said. “It’s not a great situaion."

Bizarrely:

Despite his executive role, Boyle said he was not privy to much of the company’s finances, which were handled mostly by the accounting team and the company’s owners. The decision to shut down operations did not come from him, he said.

Boyle has been working at Circle for nearly 40 years. He came up through the ranks, and was the lead operations guy, a job he was reportedly quite good at. But a company president who doesn't have access to the financials? Huh???

The holidays are the worst time of year to lose your job, and I wish all those who got a pink slip the best of luck. Good luck to those with outstanding orders, too. 

I also feel bad for the former owners - Richard Tubman, his wife Peggy Burns, his brother Harold Tubman. Circle was their family business, and had been around for more than 70 years. They were second-gen owners and operators, but the next gen - including Jessica Tubman, the Sloanie I met during the pandemic - didn't want to keep on keeping on there. So they sold the business. 

Peggy Burns, one of the company’s previous co-owners, left Circle Furniture about two years after the sale, but has kept close relationships with employees since.

“It’s our legacy, and we’re so ashamed of it,” she said. “This was devastating. I’ve reached out to people I know and we’re trying to help in any way we can … Who wants to tell people you don’t have a job a week before Christmas?”

You're so right, Peggy. Too bad the folks you sold to got so far in over their heads, and ended up doing something that comes off as supremely heartless. 

And RIP, Circle Furniture. Not in the market for furniture at the mo, but if I were, I would have gone shopping at Circle. 

M'm! M'm! Good!

Lunchtime when I was a kid usually meant soup and a sandwich. My mother was a scratch cook, and a fabulous soup-maker, but soup at lunch came out of a can of Campbell's. M'm m'm good.

I liked Vegetarian Vegetable. Vegetable Beef. Beef Barley. Scotch Broth. Chicken Noodle. Chicken with Rice. Tomato. It's been a million years since I've lunched on Campbell's soup and a sandwich, but I can still remember exactly what those soups tasted like. 

These days, while there may be a can or two of Campbell's Mushroom on my shelf - there's a ham and noodle casserole, a childhood favorite, that calls for mushroom soup - if I'm opening a can of soup for lunch or dinner, it's going to be Progresso. Italian Wedding. Chickarina. Macaroni & Bean. 

Still, there's a place in my heart for Campbell's soup. 

But apparently not in the heart of the Martin Bally, the now former vice president and Chief Information Security Officer for Campbell's.

Robert Garza, an ex-employee, has filed a law suit claiming racial discrimination and harrassment against Campbell's. And in his suit, he takes a side excursion, alleging that Bally "said Campbell’s food is 'highly process food' for 'poor people.'" Garza pretty much had the goods on Bally. He recorded the conversation.

In the recording Garza shared with WDIV [Detroit], the person can be heard saying he doesn’t buy Campbell’s products because he doesn’t know what is in them.

“We have (expletive) that’s for poor people,” you can hear the male voice say in the recording, a copy of which was shared with USA TODAY. “I don’t buy (expletive) Campbell’s products barely anymore.”

The person went on to say that when he looks at a can of Campbell’s soup, he thinks it contains “bioengineered meat.”

“I don’t want to eat a (expletive), a piece of chicken that came from a 3D printer, do you?” the person said. (Source: USA Today)

Well, who among us hasn't badmouthed their company's products? Nobody I ever worked with. The snidery towards poor people aside, this is actually pretty funny. I especialy loved the bit about "a piece of chicken that came from a 3D printer."

But wait! There's more! (There's always more.)

Garza [also] alleges in the suit that Bally also made racist comments about Indian workers at the company, calling them “idiots” and saying he disliked working with them. Bally also told Garza he came to work high on marijuana edibles, Garza alleges. 

Of course, Campbell's doesn't want an employee - especially a senior one - making fun of their products. And Campbell's, of course, maintains that the chicken in their Chicken Noodle is not bio-engineered or 3D printed. But in terms of harm to Martin Bally, racist remarks and coming to work high seem to be more harmful than product jokes.  

Anyway, Bally has a reasonably impressive resume, and if he can talk his way out of Garza's claims, I'm sure he'll land somewhere. There's high demand for information security pros. And, in my experience, "they" - higher ups, no matter how awful they are - always land somewhere. But what a fool Bally was to be talking the way he did in front of an employee he barely knew. (Garza had only been with Campbell's for five months when he was fired.)

Maybe he'd had one edible too many on the way into work that day.

No word yet on the outcome of Garza's suit - other than Martin Bally being canned - but one source says that Garza was fired for cause. Garza maintains he was let go because he had filed complaints of racial discrimination and harrassment. 

I was thinking of running out and buying a can of Scotch Broth for old time's sake. Despite the fact that it contained lamb - mutton? - I loved this soup. Lots of barley and ultra salty. Alas, Scotch Broth has been discontinued. 

And so it goes...

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Image Source: Call Me A Food Lover

Frontrunner? Why yes, yes I am.

I grew up watching football. Fall Sunday afternoons meant sitting with my father watching the NY Football Giants, wearing Honolulu Blue, from Yankee Stadium. Coached byAllie Sherman, in his suit, tie, and snappy little fedora. Frank Gifford. Y.A. Tittle. Rosey Grier. Rosey Brown. Andy Robustelli. Sam Huff. Kyle Rote.

Back then, as folks of a certain vintage will recall, the NY Giants were New England's team. 

Even when the Patriots came around (1960-ish), they were a sporting afterthought. The American Football League was big nothing. The Pats didn't have a stadium. They played at BU Stadium, Fenway Park, BC's Alumni Stadium, Harvard Stadium. Their games were televised on Channel 6, a low-wattage outfit out of New Bedford. (The Giants were on Boston's Channel 5, a real TV station.)

The Patriots' mascot, in those pre Elvis-swoosh logo days, was Pat Patriot, a burly, dumb-looking Irishman - a rough and tumble version of Lucky, the Celtics' sly leprechaunesque mascot. 

My father got sick. My father died. (Fifty-five years ago this past Sunday.) I drifted away from any interest in football, Giants or Pats. I went to college a 5 minute walk from Fenway Park during a couple of years when the Pats played there, but I couldn't be arsed to go over and watch them. Football remains the only "major" (male) team sport I've never seen in person. And have no desire to. 

For many years, football was just blech to me. Too violent. Too right-wing. Too militaristic. Too bogusly patriotic. Too sexist. (Those cheerleaders.)

I was first and foremost a baseball fan (Red Sox, of course) but I also followed the Celtics and the Bruins.

Watching football, I would tell people, was like eating veal. If I thought about it, I wouldn't do it. 

And then the Patriots got good, and all of a sudden I was, more or less, a football fan, Patriots Edition. And it was exciting. They were fun to watch. Whatever the sport, if the home town teams are in contention, the home town is buzzing. Winning all those Super Bowls, well, yay "us!"

It was my first foray into life as a frontrunner, jumping on the bandwagon when the going was good. (I'm a Red Sox anti-frontrunner. Although they annoy me no end, I'm with the Olde Towne Team through thick and thin.)

And then the Patriots stopped being good.

I could not have cared less about their fortunes, other than taking some malicious joy in their suckiness.

After all, I don't like Bob Kraft, the owner. I don't like Bill Belichick, the former coach. And GOAT-y as I know he is, Tom Brady was starting to get on my last nerve. His final play for the Patriots was a pick-6. Ha! Served him right for being about to become a turncoat and jump ship to another team.

Then there was the whole sordid Aaron Hernandez saga. 

During the Patriots' Golden Era, I had gotten used to watching football, so I still kept my eye on the playoffs. I watched the Patriot-less Super Bowls, forgetting within five minutes after the final whistle which team, exactly, had won.

And then, after stumbling out of the gate this past season, the Patriots got good.

So I started to keep an eye on them. I started to watch part of most of the games. I knew where they were in the standings. I liked Drake Maye. (Truly, who doesn't?) 

Even though the team was scorned for having a squishily soft schedule, they won their playoff games against teams (LA Chargers, Houston Texans) that were good enough to make it into the playoffs.

And all of a sudden, they were off to Denver to play for the right to play in the Super Bowl, their first SB appearance since 2019. (A boring game, as I recall. But they won.)

Largely because the Broncos' quarterback broke his ankle in their last game, the Pats were favored to win. And of course I was rooting for them - even though I knew that, if they did punch their ticket to the Super Bowl, we would be in for two weeks of non-stop local news focus on our boys, which I know from experience will be wretched in its excess. 

Well, the Pats beat the Broncos in cold, snowy weather that mirrored what we were experiencing back home. 

And so I'll watch the Super Bowl, hoping they win. If the weather is perfect and I have nothing better to, I will likely watch part of the victory parade But I won't buy any Patriots gear. Who wants to make Bob Kraft even richer? I'll be watching the game at my sister's house, and if there are Patriots cupcakes at the grocery store (there will be), I'll spring for those.

Of course, the bonus of being a frontrunner is that it doesn't really matter if "your" team wins or lose. Yes, I want the Pats to win, but a loss won't be soul-crushing.

I look at it this way: Win: gravy. Lose: shrug of the shoulders. I won't be reliving every play. I won't be tearing up. I won't lose any sleep. It's not live or die. Although, as a die-hard Red Sox fan, I know what it's like to NOT be able to easily shake a big loss off. And as a die-hard baseball fan, I know how hard it is when the season ends.

Anyway, football has been a good distraction from the dire non-sports news.

Am I a frontrunner? Why yes, yes I am. But give me a couple of months and baseball season rolls around. Will I be a Red Sox die-hard? Why yes, yes I will be. 

The Patriots' mantra this season has been We all we got. We all we need. Sports-wise, that will hold me until baseball season. 

LFG!

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Image Source: Wikipedia

Make that Charlie Avarice. (Fraud, glorious fraud.)

It's been nearly three years since I (virtually) ran into Charlie Javice. A decade ago, she founded Frank, a startup that helped students fill in financial aid applications. The idea was so hot, the execution so excellent, that, in 2021, JPMorgan Chase acquired the company for a cool $175M. Not crazy billionaire bro unicorn money, by any means. But Javice's $21M take was pretty good walking around money for someone still in her twenties. Plus she had a cushy retention bonus. 

Trouble was, Javice had pumped up the number of students Frank was helping. By a lot. By more than an order of magnitude. 

JPMorgan sued for fraud, federal prosecutors got involved, and this past September Javice was sentenced to seven years in prison for her fraud, glorious fraud.

Curiously, given that she had screwed her employer, Javice had some employment deal where JPMorgan Chase was required to pay her legal bills. And what a tab Charlie (who, I can't help but mention, has a hedge fund father and a life coach mother) rolled up while futilely defending herself.

Here’s what Charlie Javice did: She spent money on luxury hotel" upgrades, extravagant meals and cellulite butter, a personal care product that some people use to treat their skin, as a lawyer for the bank said in a hearing on Friday. (Source: NY Times - 11.14.25)

Additional detail is emerging about those expenses. Lamps. (The lawyers didn't have lamps?) Nutritional supplements. And: 

A $581 dinner for two. Nearly $1,000 in laundry fees for one. A Cookie Monster toddler toy. And however many gummy bears $529 gets you. (Sourec: NY Times - 12.22.25)

Her failed defense included lawyers who have represented the likes of Elon Musk, Harvey Weinstein and Sam Bankman-Fried. And she racked up over $70M in bills - tens of millions more than Elizabeth Holmes spent on her failed defense. One of her lawyers charged $2,025 an hour. Yikes on yikes!

A spokesman for Javice claimed that she "followed JPMorgan’s written policies both as an employee and during the legal proceedings." And noted that she didn't incur these expenses personally. Her attorneys - and she had over 100 who were billing - did. (Bet those policies have been tightened up a bit. If nothing else, they must have tightened up on paying for tightening up cellulite butter.)

When JPMorgan saw the legal bills floating in, they started pushing back, and she's now likely to be on the hook for reimbursing the company for those legal fees. (Along with returning the money she made on the sale of Frank, and the overall $175M JPMorgan paid for the company without doing its due diligence very diligently.)

I really don't get fraudsters. Do they really think they'll never get caught? 

Way back in the early 1970's, when women were increasingly joining the work force and entering non-traditional professions, there was a popular fragrance named Charlie. The models the ad campaign used were young, breezy, kicky women, meant to appeal to young professional women. Whenever I read Charlie Javice's name, I can see Shelley Hack (one of the models) confidently swinging down the street, heading into the office. 

And here we are, fifty years later, reading about Charlie Avarice Javice, fraudster and legal expense gouger. 

As another ad campaign had it way back in the dawn of the Ms. Magazine era: you've come a long way, baby.