Friday, January 24, 2020

"Daddy's Favorite"

On my mother's recipe card, she has written FRUIT CAKE, but it was always called "Daddy's Favorite", and I made it the other day.

I made it because tomorrow is the 49th anniversary of my father's death, and I've been thinking about him more often lately because of this.

I made it because my brother was coming over to dinner the other night.

I made it because I really like it.

In terms of serving it to my brother, I could have saved myself the trouble. How did I not know that he didn't particularly care for it? I knew my sister Kath likes it, and that Trish doesn't. I guess I just assumed the Rick was a fan because he doesn't have a particular sweet tooth, and "Daddy's Favorite" (despite the 2 cups of sugar that goes into it) isn't especially sweet. And because Rick - although he's a blue-eyed blond (okay, he's gray now) and my father was black-haired with hazel eyes, and although Rick is a lot taller and bigger in general than my father was - is my father's spit and image. (Oddly, both my brothers look exactly like my father, though they don't look anything alike. Go figure.)

I did make it up, dinner-wise, by serving meatloaf. My mother's recipe, more or less. She used Saltines crushed to crumbs using a rolling pin; I use pre-fab breadcrumbs. Also, I used the pan she used for meatloaf - an aluminum rectangular baking pan (the same one I had earlier used to bake "Daddy's Favorite") - because in our house, mealoaf wasn't really a "loaf". It was cut in flat squares, like a lasagna. Like a cake. Like "Daddy's Favorite."

The meatloaf was quite good. "Daddy's Favorite" even better. I put half of it in the freezer, but have been enjoying the rest as a grab and gulp, or with my tea. I gave a couple of pieces to a friend who came by the other day.

"Daddy's Favorite" completely hits the spot, and that spot is made even better because I used my mother's hand-scrawled recipe, her mixing bowl, and her aluminum baking pan.

There is nothing like seeing something in the handwriting of someone you love who is no longer on earth to get you going. (When I come across something my husband has written - especially if it's in his famous red ink - I still tear up, even six years after Jim's death. Jim, by the way, was a big fan of my mother's meatloaf. I can't recall where he stood on "Daddy's Favorite.")

I don't know the ur source of the "Daddy's Favorite" recipe, but I do have a theory.

A few years ago, I was in Ireland with my sister Trish, her daughter Molly, and our friend Michele. We were in Galway while Molly was finishing up her semester abroad. One afternoon, when Trish was helping Molly move out from her student digs, Michele and I went out for a walk and came across a little artist gallery-tea room. We browsed a bit and, since the day was gorgeous, decided to sit outside and have a cup of tea.

Barmbrack was on the menu.

Now I've been to Ireland many, many times, but had never had brack, so I decided to order it to have with my tea.

And once I took a bite, what to my wondering mouth did appear?

Turns out "Daddy's Favorite" is barmbrack. Who knew? Not me, for sure. And those who might have known - my mother, my Aunt Margaret, my grandmother - are long gone.

Anyway, I'm guessing that the "Daddy's Favorite"/FRUIT CAKE recipe likely came to my mother by way of my father's mother by way of her mother. So I'm thinking it's Ballymascanlon, Co. Louth barmbrack we're talking here.

If you want a nice little cakey thing to go with your tea, here's the recipe:

1 lb. raisins
Pour 2 cups boiling water over raisins. Cool.  (Underlining is my mother's.)
Add 2 tpsp. baking soda to the raisins and water.

2 cups sugar
2 tablespoons shortening. (Not specified, but I use Crisco, as my mother did.)
2 eggs

Raisins and water. Mix well. (Here's my mother's aside - verbatim: I usually add first the water and hold the raisins until I have added the flour. I followed my mother's instructions.)

3 cups fluor. Mix well.
1/2 cup walnuts.

Bake for approx. 1 hour, either 350 degrees or 375 degrees depending on your oven.

Use 13x9" greased and floured pan.

My notes: I baked at 375 degrees, but this was more due to using a metal pan (vs. glass) than anything to do with my oven. It was ready a bit before one hour.

I'm about to put the kettle on, and have myself a piece (or two) of "Daddy's Favorite."

I will think about my father.

For a number of years now, my sibs and I, when talking about our father, have said things like "if Dad had lived he'd be dead already." Which for a number of years now would be true. If he were alive, he'd be 107.

But how rotten, how cruelly unfair, that he was only allotted a stingy 58 years. That he was sick off and on (progressive kidney disease) for 7 years before he died. That he left my mother in a heap of grief, and 5 bereft kids  - 23, 21, 18, 15, 11 - who'd been fearing his death each time he ping-ponged in and out of the hospital during  those 7 years - without the wonderful, decent, generous, quick-tempered, hard-working, wickedly funny, imaginative, feisty, story-telling, athletic, backwards-skating, vibrant father who loved his children fiercely. When my father died, we felt like orphans.

My father never did make it to Ireland, but he was a tea drinker, and I like to think of him, sitting in the front yard of that little gallery-tea house in Galway, ordering his cup of tea, ordering a side of brack. And lighting up when he recognized his grandmother's recipe.

We only heard my mother's side of the conversation, but if my father was away - he was a salesman, and traveled on business; and in the last 7 years of his life also logged plenty of hospital time - my mother's last words to him before she hung up were always "I love you, too, kid."

Well, he wasn't kid to me, but "me, too." Still miss you after all these years...

Thursday, January 23, 2020

More fun with career damage!

Yesterday, I posted about two young GM engineers - lunkheads, both - who lost their jobs after they took a couple of the Corvettes they were working on out for a 100 m.p.h./120 m.p.h spin.

There are, of course, a lot of different ways to damage your career.
Another one popped my way last week by way of Twitter. I don't follow Bradley P. Moss, an attorney who focuses on national security issues and has plenty of things to say about the whistleblower and Trump. But some tweeters that I do follow do follow him, so there he was, showing the world a couple of email threats he'd received from one Eric Ziegler.

Now these sorts of attacks are pretty common Twitter fare. But when folks send over-the-top attacks - as in you're a liberal so you are "pretty much fucking deranged in the head"..."can't wait to see you die from a mental breakdown" - to those that they have political disagreements with, they tend not to use their corporate email and signature.

Not Eric Ziegler. Say it loud, say it proud. I'm Inpro's Director of Corporate Development and General Manager of their Charlotte office. And I, apparently, approved this mesage, and its followup, which were vile, moronic, and vaguely threatening. Wonder what Ziegler has in mind when he mentions "a cure to eradicate"? Inquiring minds of the liberal persuasion sure would like to know.

Moss clapped back at Inpro Corp, as did a number of Tweeters. Here's Moss's clap:
I understand your company has hosted events for the president, and I certainly don’t begrudge anyone their political views. I simply want to ensure you are aware this is how one of your management team is using his company email: to send me hate mail (Source: Twitter)
Anyway, when I first saw this, I went to look for Ziegler's LinkedIn, found it, and then figured I could come back again for another look. Ah, no. When I went to find it the second time, alas, it was removed. So I figured Ziegler had gotten - at minimum - his wrists slapped.

After all, his company may be big Trump supporters, but they do claim a philosphy that suggests that this is not the sort of behavior that the company - which is headquartered in Wisconsin and makes "stuff" like window, door and wall treatments, bathroom stalls and elevator interiors that go into commercial buildings - would welcome in its employees. 
Because our employees are such an instrumental part of ensuring that success, we hold them to a high standard of conduct. Inpro has no tolerance for hateful acts, discrimination, unethical behavior or any other forms of misconduct that does not reflect our corporate philosophy and values. We constantly work to foster a culture of service, respect, innovation and responsibility. We are committed to the ongoing pursuit of these values in our actions with our customers, employees and anyone in the communities we serve.
We are grateful for those who have worked with us and who have had the opportunity to let us demonstrate our culture firsthand.
I can't imagine that any company would condone Ziegler's behavior. Unlike the two knuckleheads I wrote about yesterday, who may have had a lapse in judgment and just given into that temptation to zoom around in a Corvette, but who may be decent individuals, Eric Ziegler's mini-screeds suggest a person with character flaws, a toxic jerk who I can't imagine anyone would want to deal with.

Both of the GM employees who took the Corvettes out for a high-speed spin were fired. Their resumes suggest well-educated, high-skilled guys - engineers who'll probably get picked up somewhere. They just won't be working at GM. A career speedbump, but likely not fatal. Nor should it be, IMHO.

But what about Eric Ziegler? Other than the disappearing act for his LinkedIn profile, did Inpro actually do anything? Did he lose his job?

A closer look at the company, and one finds that the chairman is also named Ziegler. And there are a couple of other Zieglers there, too. Common enough name. Sort of. I'm guessing Eric Ziegler has got friends - maybe even a dad - in high places in the organization. Which is generally a foolproof strategy if you're going to behave like a fool. 

Moss says that he wouldn't ordinarily "out" a-holes who send outright nasty and quasi-threatening messages. But when this guy used corporate email, and included his credentials in the note, well, that was a bit too much for Moss. 

I suspect Ziegler gets to keep his cushy job and cushy title, courtesy of daddy dearest. (Who, I suspect, gave sonny boy a cheerful-earful about his stupidity.) But would you want to do business with this guy? I sure wouldn't. And I bet there are plenty more like me out there. Supporting Trump may not be a dealbreaker, but this level of toxic douchebaggery sure is.

Wednesday, January 22, 2020

Those careers probably will come back from Dead Man's Curve. But still...

I came of radio-listening age in the great era of teen car songs, most sung by the same blond dudes who also ushered in the great era of teen surfer songs. (Think Beach Boys and Jan & Dean.) 

Where to begin? We had 409. Little Douce Coup. Little Old Lady from Pasadena. Fun, Fun, Fun. GTO. Shut Down. The Theme from Route 66 (still a pretty good piece of instrumental music; I'm glad they never added any cornball lyrics about two guys tootlin' around the country in a Corvette to it). Dead Man's Curve.

It's the final two on the list that I'll thematically combine in a little career-damager (if not killer) of a story on two GM engineer who just couldn't help themselves when it came to testdriving the 2020 Corvette Stingray.

Ah, the Stingray. The ultimate fantasy car of teen automative life of my girlhood. At least I imagined it was. Personally, I didn't have car fantasies, although at 12, I did have a crush on George Maharis, one of the two fellows tootlin' around the country in a Corvette. 

Anyway, Engineers Alexander Thim and Mark Derkatz took the newest Corvette out for a spin last week in Bowling Green, Kentucky, home of the GM plant where Corvettes are built. They both ended up under arrest.

Thim was driving a red Corvette that reached a speed of 120 mph, according to the citation. Derkatz was in a white Corvette that was clocked at 100 mph.
The posted speed on the road was 45 mph.
They were charged with reckless driving, racing on a public highway and driving more than 26 mph faster than the posted speed limit. (Source: CNN)
GM was pretty tight-lipped about the incident. "Aware... ...priority further comment."

But I looked up the lead-footed fellows on LinkedIn, and Thim is "currently looking for an engineering job...Previously worked at General Motors launching the 2020 Corvette." Derkatz's listing still has him as a part of the "Corvette Electrical Launch Team", focusing on "issue resoluton." Perhaps Derkatz was able to resolve his career error issue because he was only going 100 m.p.h., while Thim was clocked at 120. But more likely, he's been bounced, too, and just hasn't updated his LinkedIn profile quite yet. [Note: after I wrote this post, I checked back and saw that Derkatz has updated his LinkedIn profile and resume to reflect that his tenure at GM ended in January 2020.]

There was more info from the local media, which reported that the incident took place at 11:20 p.m. on Lovers Lane, and Krim and Derkatz admitted that they'd just come from an establishment called Cue Time Cocktails and Billiards. And they both had booze breath. (The citation doesn't say they were DUI-ing. Just that they'd been drinking.)

What were they thinking? Sure, even though these guys aren't from my age cohort, I'm sure it was ultra-exciting to get behind the wheel of a 'vette. And once they got there, just couldn't resist putting the pedal to the metal. 

But taking the company car out for a spin like this? Yikes. Talk about a colossal error in judgment. I hope for their sake that at least they had permission to be sporting around in those 'vettes. If they wanted to drive that fast, they should have done it at an off-the-road facility. Of course, since they're not test drivers, they might not have been allowed to whip around that fast in a car that retails for $60K.

Both of these guys are young (Thim 27, Derkatz 30), so there's plenty of time for their careers to bounce back from this lap around the Bowling Green version of Dead Man's Curve. Maybe some day, this will be yet another 'things that happened at work/things that happened when I was young and stupid' to tell over a couple of beers at a backyard cookout. But still... What a couple of bone-heads. 

And here, for your listening pleasure, the Theme from Route 66

Tuesday, January 21, 2020

Kerrygold Abu!

When I was a kid, there were always small cans of Carnation Evaporated Milk in the larder. I'm not 100% sure what it was used for, but seem to remember my parents using it for coffee creamer. And my mother may have used it in some recipes. 

What I do remember about it was the Carnation Evaporated Milk came from contented cows. Or so we were told in Carnation ads.

What, exactly, a contented cow is, I couldn't tell you, but I'm picturing a dopey-looking, cud-chewing Holstein meandering around a pasture on a balmy, sunny day, until it's time to sashay into the barn so that Mr. Green Jeans can milk her.

Anyway, I don't remember anyone taking Carnation on for false advertising.

Kerrygold wasn't so lucky.

They weren't claming that the cows whose milk is used in their butter were contented - although, aside from the rain, I would imagine that Irish cows are plenty contented. The Kerrygold claim to fame was that their cows were grass-fed. 

I guess that whether cows are eating grass or not is a lot more provable than whether or not they're contented, contentment being pretty much in the eye and mind of the beholder. So there's that basis for a suit. But a fellow in California took legal umbrage to the grass-fed claims, and brought suit against Ornua Co-operative (which produces Kerrygold), saying that he'd been:
...“misled into purchasing Kerrygold products due to false and misleading advertising.” For several years, he bought Kerrygold dairy products, sometimes at a price premium, with the understanding based on product advertising that cows used to generate the milk for the products were only fed grass...“Rather than disclose the use of non-grass feed, as other partially grass-fed competitors do, Kerrygold deceptively implies that its products are derived from cows that are fed only grass,” (Source: Feed Navigator)
The plaintiff said he never, ever, ever in a million years - or something like that - would have bought Kerrygold if he'd known that those Irish cows were also gulping down soy, corn and other grains. Guess it wasn't enough that Kerrygold butter tastes great.

Ornua argued back that they never said that their cows eat nothing other than grass. And they've got a point. You may be what you eat, but just because you're a meat eater doesn't mean you're exclusively eating meat. Same goes, I suppose, for grass. And cows.

Admittedly, Ornua may have been implying that their Bessies and Bossies - or whatever they call cows in the Old Sod - were supping exclusively on the green, green grass of Ireland. But you can also argue that it may just have been a case of the plaintiff inferring.

Anyway, the judge in the case dismissed the suit, leaving Ornua contented. 

As for the plaintiff, he did want to turn it into a class action suit on behalf of all those duped by Kerrybgold - include me out - so maybe he thought that there'd be a few bucks to come out of the suit. But you do have to wonder what his game was. What damages did he incur? Why tie up the courts? Why not just stop buying Kerrygold, write Ornua a letter asking for a refund (or save the overseas stamp and email them), blast them on social media? A suit seems pretty frivolous.

Me? I'm always contented with Kerrygold, the butter of choice chez moi. Unlike blandly whitish American butters, Kerrygold is buttery yellow. And it tastes like, well, butter. What more can you ask for?

Monday, January 20, 2020

MLK Day 2020. (Bald is beautiful.)

It's Martin Luther King Day, and Pink Slip is observing it by partially taking the day off.

What will I be doing?

Although it's a day when volunteering is encouraged, I'm sitting this one out. I volunteered on Saturday. I'm volunteering tomorrrow. And on Thursday. So I'm good. (Obviously, I didn't give up virtue signaling for MLK Day.)

Kerri Greenidge, author of Black Radical: The Life and Times of William Monroe Trotter, will be talking about her book at The Boston Athenaeum, and I'm going to that. Until I saw an article on Trotter (and the Greenidge book), I wasn't at all familiar with the man, other than being aware of a Boston public school that's named after him.

Trotter was the founder of The Guardian, a black newspaper that achieved a national readership, and was an all-round activisit. Among other things, he led protessts against the spectacularly racist D.W. Griffith film, The Birth of a Nation. (You know, sometimes cancel culture is a good thing.)

Anyway, a writer friend of mine is introducing Greenidge, and I'm sure her introduction and Greenidge's talk will be great. And I'm happy to be doing something to honor Dr. Martin Luther King.

(As for The Athenaeum, founded in 1807 - and just up the street from where I live - it's one of the oldest independent libraries in the country. I'm a member, but don't do anywhere near enough hanging out in this beautiful and completely quirky place. (Note to self: start spending an afternoon or two a week at The Ath...))

For our next topic:

Bald is beautiful
My husband was bald. So was my father. As are both of my brothers. I'm good with bald guys. Bald is beautiful.

That said, I'm just as happy that male-pattern baldness affects, well, males. (Thank you, testosterone.) But that said, there's no reason why women have to have more hair than men, other than that it's what in our culture we're most used to. There is such a thing as female-pattern baldness, but, until old age, that's less common.But most women as they age will experience some hair loss over time. (Another note to self: check the bathroom sink.)

Then there's alopecia. Actually, male- and female-pattern baldness are forms of alopecia. But when we think about alopecia - if we think of it at all - we're likely thinking about total baldness - head, eyebrows, eyelashes.

Alopecia is an autoimmune condition, and affects both men and women. But African American women may be more prone to it than others.

One of those African American women is Ayanna Pressley, who's a member of Congress from Boston (and the most low-key member of The Squad, which also includes Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Ilhan Omar, and Rashida Tlaib). Pressley's's not my representative, but I'd be just as happy if she were. But in 2018, I wasn't all that happy with her. She primaried and took out Mike Capuano, perhaps the most progressive person in the House. Would that she'd primaried and taken out my Congressman, Stephen Lynch, who's more of an old-school lunchbucket Democrat rather than a progressive. But it was Pressley's time, and she beat Capuano and won handily in the general.

Late last week, just in time for MLK Day, Pressley revealed that she has recently lost her hair due to alopecia.  Here's a link to the video where she made her announcement - definitely worth a view, as has a lot to say about her hair specifically in reference to herself and her identity as a black women. And here are her "before and after" shots.

I told you bald is beautiful!

Friday, January 17, 2020

What would Mr. Whipple do?

Two upfront statements:
  1. I'm not going to say that I wouldn't use Charmin toilet paper if it were the last roll of TP on the face of the earth. Of course, I would use it. The toilet paper I absolutely would NOT deploy if it were the last roll of TP on the face of earth would be Quilted Northern. That would be on the basis of their execrable ads, in which cartoon bears dance around singing "my heinie's clean." Especially the execrable+ ad in which the cartoon bear parents debate whether to pick their cartoon bear son's briefs up off the bathroom floor.  Then cartoon bear son saves them having to touch "it" by prancing in singing - you guessed it - "my heinie's clean."
  2. I don't think Procter & Gamble's all that serious about the suite of toilet-related tech products they introduced at the recent Consumer Electronics Show. At least I don't think they are...
Anyway, I always enjoy reading about the weird and useless stuff that gets showcased at CES. And writing about it, too. (If only someone - that would be Google, which owns Blogger - could come up with an app that let me have consistent fonts in my posts. And don't suggest Word Press. I use Word Press for one client and one volunteer gig. It is admittedly better when it comes to fonts, but I've found that it brings other problems with it...)

Among the weird and useless stuff on display at this year's CES was a stunning trio of weird and useless stuff intended to deliver a "better bathroom experience from start to flush."

First up, the RollBot.

This is a robot that can be summoned up from your smartphone and roll on into the bathroom with a new roll of toilet paper. Now, there have been plenty of situations in which I have been caught out without there being any toilet paper available. 99.99% of those times have been in public restrooms, where I've found myself in a tp-less stall and end up searching through pockets and pocketbook in hopes of finding one scrunged up but still marginally usable piece of used Kleenex. And/or hollering to anyone around, in hopes that the woman in the next stall can hand me a couple of squares of toilet paper under the opening. 

The other 00.01% of the time is when I've been in the woods, or somewhere else in nature, and have just had to go. 

In neither of these situations would it do any good to Bluetooth up a delivery robot. Would it leave my home and find me - using built in GPS, no doubt - in a restaurant or on the Snail Trail in Provincetown so that it could deliver the goods?

Really and truly, is there anyone out there who doesn't have a spare roll or two of toilet paper in their bathroom? Or a fallback box of Kleenex?

And if you do insist on a robot, wouldn't it make more sense to have a general-purpose one that could not just fetch toilet paper, but could do a lot of other fetching as well. Special purpose toilet paper delivering robot? No need.

And yet of all the Charmin ideas, this seems to me the most viable and, ahem, useful.

That is, when compared with SmellSense
The predictive SmellSense is an electronic sensor monitoring system that allows users to plan ahead and check how the bathroom smells without having to experience it yourself. It's calibrated to detect carbon dioxide found in a "toot" or "two." SmellSense notifies via a GO/NO GO display on the status of the stench. It lets you know when you can go in without an offending nasal assault. (Source: Tech Republic)
As with the case of the missing toilet paper - although perhaps not as pronounced - most of my close encounters with bad smelling bathrooms has been in the public realm. In a home setting, you can usually rely on family and friends to give you a bit of a warning. Or figure it out for youself pretty quickly. 

So that leaves places like gas station restrooms. Are they going to install these? I think not.

Sometimes you just have to hold your nose and take care of business. 

If someone's going to improve public restrooms, they should have an claxon horn start screaming if somone pees on the seat or tosses a tampon (used, of course) on the floor and leaving it there. Or outlaw all Porta Potties, other than the upscale ones with multiple stalls, sinks and flushable toilets. 

And jeez Louise, if we end up with sensor-based systems to do our smelling for us, will the nose become a vestigial organ?

Whoever it is in the Charmin division at P&G, they must be having some fun for themselves. Thus the V.I.Pee which promises concertgoers:
... a "premium" experience "enhanced with Oculus Rift S VR" to transport a GOer missing out on any moment to the front row, "to never miss a beat on the seat." Joining the event virtually "right where you left off before the call of nature rolled in," making the bathroom "the best seat in the house." 
So, how is wearing Oculus virtual reality headgear going to do anything about the cleanliness, godliness, and rank smells that come with being in a public restroom? Do you just hang outside waiting for the SmellSense to give you the go ahead? Which will never happen in a Porta Potty, which is the faciliyt of choice for outdoor concerts. (Not that I attend (m)any.) Not to mention that SmellSense wouldn't warn you about the pee on the seat and the floor. Yuck on yuck!

Anyway, I'm guessing that Charmin was just having a bit of fun, tech-style. 

The Mr. Whipple ads were the first one that made me dislike Charmin and resist all calls to squeeze the Charmin. (I grew up in a Scott house, and I've maintained a lifetime worth of brand loyalty.) No, Charmin's not as bad as Quilted Northern, but none of these tech gadgets are going to get me to change my mind (or my toilet paper.)

Thursday, January 16, 2020

Talk about a golden parachute

If you look at it one way, Dennis Muilenburg's career at Boeing was spectacularly successful. Thirty-five years ago, he started working there as an intern. Through luck, pluck, true grit, hard work, inspiration, perspiration, and no doubt some measure of at least a couple of the other things that go into the sort of career-building that elevates someone to the highest reaches in an organization - things like politicking, bootlicking, bullshitting, credithogging and backstabbing - he became chairman and CEO. 

Then, oopsie, a couple of Boeing Max 737's fell from the sky - resulting in the deaths of 346 folks - and all of a sudden it seemed that Muilenburg wouldn't be playing out his full career with the company. Not that he was directly responsible for faulty designs, poor quality assurance, anti-safety pricing practices. But it all happened on his watch, and he did preside over the cost-cutting and schedule-accelerating initiatives that resulted in plenty of dubious (and it turns out dangerous) decisions, and he did some pretty sketchy pressuring of regulators to let the Max 737's stay in the air (theoretically: the problem was they weren't staying in the air), so...

The first sign that those two crashes would be costly to Mueilenburg was his "decision" in November not to take his bonus - a forgone goodie-bag that was worth about $14M.

But there's costly and then there's costly. 

It may have been difficult to give up that $14M - end of year expenses are high for everyone. And it must have been tough being shown the exit door of the company you've been worth your entire adult life, which is what happened to Muilenburg: he was forced out. But once the first of the year rolled around, it emerged that while he was shoved out that exit door, the plane really hadn't left the ground yet, there was a bouncy castle for him to land on, and the parachute he'd been given was worth $62 million. (Sadly, he did have to forfeit a $14.6 million severance package.)

So it's no surprise that:
Family members of crash victims told The Washington Post they are “sickened” by Muilenburg’s payout, saying he presided over a profit-obsessed corporate culture that led the company to cut corners. (Source: Wapo)
The overall amount set aside for the families of the 346 victims is $100 million. Which is not a whole hell of a lot less than Muilenburg's walking away money, once you throw in stock options worth $18.5 million, bringing the payday to $80.5 million. 

The $100 million is the fund that Boeing has set aside for victim compensation. Litigation may result in payouts that up this dramatically, especially when you judges and juries start taking the Muilenburg package into consideration. 

Boeing has "listened" to what the devastated families have to say.
After reviewing the families’ comments, Boeing spokesman Mike Friedman said: “We are truly sorry and offer our deepest sympathies to the families and friends who lost loved ones in the accidents of Lion Air Flight 610 and Ethiopian Airlines Flight 302."
Well, ain't nothing going to bring back the folks that died, but I'm sure their families could live without Boeing sympathies. Or with Muilenburg's, either.
In a video posted on Boeing’s website April 4, Muilenburg said: “We at Boeing are sorry for the lives lost in the recent 737 Max accidents.” He added “I cannot remember a more heart-wrenching time in my career with this great company.”
I'm sure that this all was heart-wrenching for Muilenburg. He's probably a nice guy. A smart guy. A "good" guy. Who in a senior position - with the notable exception of the current occupant of the Oval Office - wouldn't be heart-wrenched at the thought of the outfit they presided over having responsibility for the deaths of so many people? 

But while his heart may be wrenched, his wallet is intact. He's now financially set for a very, very comfortable life. 

In responding to the Max 737 debacle, Boeing's made a number of missteps. Here's hoping that Muilenburg's golden parachute is the end of it.