Knocker Uppers

Britain may have been the home to the Industrial Revolution, ushering in the brave new world of mass produced goods, anomic urban living, and toiling in the factory. Unfortunately, those who toiled in the factories, especially if they wanted to be consumers and not just survivors, mass produced goods were not as cheap and widely available as they are now. And unfortunately alarm clocks and watches weren't readily available to, or affordable by, those toilers. 

In plenty industries, in plenty parts of the world, factory work remains dreadful: dangerous, smelly, noisy, ill paid. (Would you want to work in a meat processing plant? Me neither. I did work one summer in a shoe factory, and that was quite enough for me. It was only quasi-dangerous: fumes to inhale, ancient elevators, protruding nails that could shred your fingertips as you felt around the bottom of a boot to find the protruding nails you needed to pull out. But it was plenty smelly, noisy, and ill paid. By the end of the work week, there were some workers in my section who went without lunch because they'd run out of money.) 

But factory life was especially terrible in early industrial Britain. You worked hard under harsh circumstances. Brutalization of workers was the norm, and you'd better not be a minute late for work or you could get your pay docked. (I think that in "my" factory, if you punched in a minute late, or out a minute early, they docked you for a quarter of an hour.) In some factories, the gates closed after the workers entered for their shift. If you got there a second too late, too bad. You'd lose a day's pay, and maybe even your job.

None of this flexible, make your own hours that many of today's professional "knowledge workers" enjoy - especially if you're working from home in your comfy pants. Back in the day, you really didn't want to be late. Which meant you really didn't want to oversleep. 

What was a worker to do? Unless you had whatever they used to call a built-in alarm clock back in the day before they had alarm clocks, you needed whatever they would have called a wake up call. If they'd had such a thing as a wake up call. Back in the day.

What they did have in Britain, especially in the industrial north, in the docklands, in the mining towns, was someone called a "knocker-upper." Knocker-upped came around and tapped on your window with a long pole. Or, used a pea shooter to wake you up. 

I don't suppose it paid all that much, but I do suppose the job of knocker-upper had its charms. You got to work outside, rather than in a fetid factory or in a mine where you always had to fear a cave-in. You were an entrepreneur, your own man - or your own pea-shooting woman. After you covered your shift, the rest of the day was your own. Sure, this probably meant scrounging around for other work or seeing if you could find a lump of coal that had fallen off the coal cart (male division), or figuring out how you were going to feed a family of 8 on one turnip, or scrubbing diapers by hand (female division). 

On the other hand, the pressure must have been immense. You miss a window, a bloke gets fired, it's on you.

I was this years old before I'd ever heard of a knocker-upper, which I learned about when this picture of a knocker-upper floated across my Twitter timeline. But they were apparently still a thing up until the 1970's, which is pretty shocking, given that there were plenty of cheap alarm clocks and watches around by then. Timex, anyone?

Now it's another one of those lost professions. No great loss, of course. But a little bit of color and a historic artifact, gone. Today, most of us - even, I'm guessing, most of those still toiling away in rancid factories, at least here in the States and throughout Europe - have a smartphone to wake them up.

But I do have one chicken-and-egg question about the knocker uppers. Who knocked up the knocker upper? 

Better late than never. (The Boston Marathon's back.)

Patriot's Day is pretty much my favorite holiday. I like it because it's peculiar, and pretty much particular to Massachusetts and a couple of other states. And it's OFM (Originally from Massachusetts): one-if-by-land, "where once the embattled farmers stood" and all that. 

And, of course, it's the day that the Boston Marathon is run, which is always - almost always; always up until 2013, anyway - a great time to be in Boston.

It's held in April, so the weather tends to be a crapshoot, everything from hellacious ice rain to unseasonably warm to perfect early spring weather. The city is buzzing, and while I preferred the Marathon back in the old days before it became a big "thing", I enjoy seeing the crowds out and about, especially the runners. So many of the amateurs hang around for a day or two and can be seen wandering and/or limping around in their jackets and finisher medals the day after. 

The city gets decked out in blue and yellow - the Marathon colors - and, the best part of it: the Red Sox play a morning (11 a.m. start) date, so the game is over while the runners are still streaming through Kenmore Square, just a bit down the street from Fenway Park. Much my favorite game to be at. It's been a pandemically bad last couple of years, so no Patriots Day game. 

But the Boston Marathon 2021, postponed from its traditional April date, is being run today. And the Red Sox, somehow, are still playing in October. And they'll be playing the Rays on Marathon Day. In Boston. I read that they are exploring an 11 a.m. start time, but the broadcasting gods may not allow. And I'm pretty sure they won't be able to resist wearing their hideous yellow-and-blue salute-to-the-Marathon unis. Baseball players are notoriously superstitious, and are guys believe that the yellows bring them luck. (Note: not always.)

As for the Maraton, there will be fewer runners, and the timing's different, but IT'S ON! And this will be the most lit that Boston's been since covid first crept in via the BioGen super-spreader conference, which was held in late February 2020. 

I may mosey around a bit in the morning, just to see what's up, but on Friday, while walking around Boston's Back Bay, I was starting to see plenty of runners, many wearing older Marathon jackets to let the world know they've already run Boston. And lots of visitors: Marathon + holiday weekend (which is now called Indigenous Peoples Day) + Red Sox still playing = crowds.

On Marathon Monday afternoon, I'll be venturing out to a party. 

A post-Marathon party was a long-standing tradition at Kennedy Brothers PT, whose co-founding brother Jake Kennedy was a 38 time Boston Marathoner and patron saint of many local runners. As co-founder (with his wife Sparky) of Christmas in the City, a charity focused on making sure that families living in homeless shelters have a bit of holiday comfort and joy, Jake was also the patron saint of kids in need and of volunteers. (The big Christmas in the City in-person events weren't held last year, and won't be this year, either, but the party alone used 2,000 volunteers. I've been a year-round volunteer for a while, Jake having sucked me in when I was a patient of his.)

And speaking of patron saints, I just got an email from a Christmas in the City donor who suggested - half seriously - that we start up a petition to have Jake declared a saint, and ask for Cardinal Sean O'Malley's help with the effort. I can just hear Jake. He would be laughing uproariously at the very thought. 

Anyway, a year ago this week, Jake died. ALS. He had the fast-moving type, and had a year from diagnosis-to-death. 

And today, his son Chippy is running Boston to honor his dad, and to raise money for ALS research at UMass Medical Center. (Zack, another of Jake's sons, is an ALS researcher there.)

When it comes to dying, there aren't a ton of ways I can think of that are much worse than ALS. 

The cure can't come fast enough.

So this afternoon, I'll be at Kennedy Brothers PT, celebrating Chip's run, celebrating Jake's life. 

Here's to you, Jake! 

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I wrote about my friend Jake here. 

And, since this is the holiday once known as Columbus Day, here are some Columbus Day thoughts. 

Take the Money and Run alrighty

The art world is so fascinating. Between the crazy prices that works of art are sold for and the crazy things that can pass for art, it's just nuts. These crazy things include, but are not limited to:

• The Banksy work that sold for $1.4 million and then proceeded to shred itself via an embedded shredder. Since the shred was only partial, it's no surprise - but still a shock - that the partially shredded work is coming up for auction, with an anticipated price of over $8 million. 
• More fun and frolic with Banksy, who "has remained prolific throughout the pandemic, leaving spray-painted rats in face masks on London Underground trains." (Source: CNN) Ah, the old spray-painted rats in face masks routine. But is it ART?
• Any work of art sold as an NFT. (Non-Fungible Token: don't get me going.
• Pretty much anything that's under the umbrella of performance art. 

The latest crazy shot across the crazy bow is brought to us by Danish artist Jens Haaning.

Haaning was asked to recreate two of his previous works: 2010's "An Average Danish Annual Income" and "An Average Austrian Annual Income," first exhibited in 2007. Both used actual cash to show the average incomes of the two countries, according to a news release from the artist. (Source: CBS News)

As part of his deal with Denmark's Kunsten Museum of Modern Art, Haaning was fronted $84K in cold hard to create the updated work. (The combined figure for the original was roughly $77K.) But what Haaning delivered was something a bit different. Unlike the frames stuffed with money that the Museum anticipated, they got a new work, a couple of empty frames entitled "Take the Money and Run."

As Museum director Lasse Andersson deadpanned after the works were uncrated:

"Subsequently, we could ascertain that the money had not been put into the work."

Mostly, Andersson was amused. He is, after all, running a museum of modern art. And if you can partially shred a work and resell the remains for a multiple of five or six, pretty much anything goes. 

 "Jens is known for his conceptual and activistic art with a humoristic touch. And he gave us that – but also a bit of a wake up call as everyone know wonders were did the money go," he said.

So, not to worry.

Plus Haaning is contractually obligated to return the cash when the exhibit closes in January. It remains to be seen what Haaning plans to do, come the due date, but he has released a statement about an artist's obligation to break with "structures [which] are completely unreasonable." Structures like the way artists are treated. Unless, I guess, you're an artist like Banksy (estimated net worth: $50M) or Haaning himself (estimated net worth: $17M).  

In commenting on Banksy, art historian Matthew Israel noted: 

What's so great and enduring about Bansky's works is they question so many assumptions of the art world, from the importance of individuality and biography, to the appropriate place of art, or the value of art, or the fetishization of the poor and art of 'the street,'" Israel said.

Well, I don't know what's so enduring about self-shredding art, but Banksy has sure cashed in on "the fetishization...of art of 'the street'". (Much of Banksy's career has revolved around street art/graffiti.) And he seems to have inspired Jens Haaning to take the money and run. Let's see how far he gets come January. 

There is, of course, nothing new about craziness in the art world. Over 100 years ago, Marcel Duchamps walked into a plumbing supply shop, walked out with a urinal, signed it "R. Mutt" and submitted it to an exhibition. 

I don't know how much Duchamps ever made off of it, especially given that the original ended up in a dumpster. But an edition of it sold a while back for nearly $2M. 

Ah, the wild and crazy art world.

Booming business

Over the course of my career, there've been plenty of moments of boredom, but nothing comes close to the utterly excruciating degree of boredom I experienced when working retail. If there are no shoppers to wait on, there are only so many ways to straighten up the merchandise and dust the counter. 

My two stints in retail - at Filene's and Jordan's, a couple of late and still lamented classic Boston department stores - were both behind the stationery counter. And other than roaming the length of the counter, I had to stay put. 

Sure, there were occasional highlights to break up the monotony. Even when there was no one around who wanted to buy a box of Crane's letter paper or a fountain pen, I might catch the security person  - disguised as a shopper - nab a shoplifter at the next counter over. One time, the guy working the Aramis counter was pinched for having had his hand in the till. (I can still picture the Aramis guy: tall, good looking reddish-brown hair, neatly groomed beard, always dressed in earth tones.) Jackie Kennedy walked by once. (If camel's an earth tone, she was wearing earth tones, too.)

But, yikes, it could be boring. 

Since you couldn't leave your counter, there was no one to chat with. There was a little fold-down stool behind the counter, but clerks weren't allowed to sit for more than a minute or two. Needless to say, you couldn't read a book while waiting to wait on someone. The only reading material was the little books, issued every week by the credit card companies, that contained a listing of defunct or stolen credit card numbers. Back in the day - and we're talking 50 years ago - not as many people used non-store credit cards, and there was no automated way to check whether a card was valid. So, when someone charged an item, you had to take their card and look up the number in the book to see if it was good. Anyway, these little books, with their micro-font numbers, didn't make for very good reading, once you'd read (and memorized) the instructions up front.

Boring, so boring.

I always kept a scrap of paper handy, to entertain myself by, say, coming up with as many as four-letter words as I could make out of the letters in my name; or by extracting the square root of my Social Security number. 

Boring, so boring. Not to mention ill-paid.

So I don't blame anyone who has up and left their retail job for the greener pastures of a marijuana dispensary. 

According to the Washington Post, that's what's happening, anecdotally if not statistically.

Jason Zvokel had a long career working as a pharmacist at Walgreens.

Now instead of administering vaccines and filling prescriptions, he’s helping customers make sense of concentrates, tablets and lozenges. His pay is 5 percent lower, he said, but the hours are more manageable.

“I am so much happier,” said Zvokel, 46, who’s worked in retail since he was 18. “For the first time in years, I’m not miserable when I come home from work.” (Source: WaPo)

The cannabis industry is booming. It added 80,000 jobs during 2020, and 2021 is promising to be a big year, too. There are now over 300,000 Americans working in the industry. And because cannabis dispensaries dispense medical marijuana - more states have okayed marijuana for medically therapeutic purposes than have legalized it for recreational consumption - they were considered essential businesses that could stay open throughout the pandemic. And, of course, the pandemic no doubt caused plenty of recreational users to want to recreate and chill a bit more. So unlike the demand for, say, work clothing, the demand for gummies and bongs has, I'm guessing, been on the upswing.

This has translated into this bit of oddity:

The United States now has more legal cannabis workers than dentists, paramedics or electrical engineers.

When you look at it that way, well, it does look sort of astonishing. But the job ladder is actually a pyramid: lots of unskilled positions at the bottom, and things narrowing as you move up the skills requirements (and income possibilities). So, fewer dentists, paramedics, and electrical engineers occupying those more upper-echelon and better paid rungs on the career ladder. 

While working in a dispensary may be more fun that straightening out boxes of stationery - I have no doubt about that - it's still not well paid. Hourly pay tends to run in the $12-15 range: pretty standard across retail. 

But given the newness of the industry, entry-level workers can often move up in less than a year to more specialized positions, she said.

And let's not discount the fun factor. Wouldn't you rather say you worked in a dispensary than in Kohl's?

Because the industry is new, there are some who are hoping that it can become one that offers better pay and benefits, and opportunities for growth. That it can become the ticket to the middle class "much like the manufacturing industry used to be." Think unionization. 

This all may be a pipedream, but it's a good one. We really don't need a ton of dead-end, poorly paid, and god-awful boring jobs (c.f., "normal" retail) getting replaced with another ton of dead-end, poorly paid, and god-awful boring cannabis-related jobs. 

Because marijuana remains illegal at the federal level, there's pressure on the industry, for now at least, to create a positive work environment. There's a belief that it the cannabis industry can show that it's creating good jobs, there'll be a smoother path to full legalization. 

Like every other job, retail work in marijuana dispensaries will no doubt be automated along the way. AI will pick the right weed or edible for you, and a robot will package it up. 

But for now, here's hoping that, for those who want to escape the boredom of traditional retail work, the business keeps booming. 

Sure beats flogging stationery.

Not that I blame them for moving, but good riddance to Smith & Wesson

When you think about the segments of the Massachusetts economy, what comes to mind is tech, finance, education, biotech, healthcare... But we still have some manufacturing, and we certainly have a manufacturing heritage.

Part of that heritage is gun manufacturing. My hometown of Worcester was home to Harrington & Richardson, makers of the M16. And Smith & Wesson, with headquarters in

Springfield, has been pumping out guns since the 1850s. But they won't be pumping out quite as many guns here as they used to. Last week, they announced that they were up-staking and moving corporate HQ and some manufacturing jobs to the more gun-friendly environs of Tennessee, "a location it chose in part based on that state’s 'unwavering support for the Second Amendment,' as well as lower costs of doing business." 

This decision will result in the loss of roughly 550 jobs. The employees impacted will be offered jobs in Tennessee.

(Smith & Wesson will be keeping some manufacturing ops going in Massachusetts in design engineering, metalworking, and a few other areas that sound high-skilled to me. These account for about 1,000 jobs.)

I can't really blame Smith & Wesson. 

It is cheaper to do business in Tennessee, and Massachusetts is no stranger to watching old-line industries - think clothing and shoe manufacturing - head South where there are few unions and a lax regulatory environment. We've been fortunate that we've managed to replace those industries with ones that are higher-skilled and more valuable. And, of course, the lower-skilled jobs that went South inevitably make another journey, overseas to find even cheaper places to make things.

The company said that part of the reason for their relocation is "quality of life." Whenever I hear this about a state like Tennessee, I have to think that lower housing costs is what goes for "quality of life." When compared to the measures that I think equate to "quality of life" - like education, healthcare, and vax refuseniks (Tennessee ranks near the bottom of all states in terms of percentage vaccinated) - Tennessee pretty much always ranks in the lower half. Massachusetts is always at or near the top of the heap.

Oh, well.

Anyway, as I said, I can't blame Smith & Wesson.

When it comes to guns, Massachusetts is hostile territory. We pass what must seem like stridently anti-gun legislation. Like not allowing the sale of AR-15's, which is a product made by Smith & Wesson. And there's a bill - not pending, but somewhere in the lawmaking chain - that would outlaw the manufacture of AR-15's in our state. 

What's a company to do if a state won't let you buy their product or even make it there?

Years ago, Massachusetts had a business development campaign with the theme of "You can make it, make it in Massachusetts." Well, not always. 

I'm also guessing that company executives might want to live and work in a climate that was more gun-friendly. I'm sure that when the execs tell people where they work there's plenty of eye-rolling, and maybe even an occasional "how can you?" 

That's unlikely to happen in Tennessee. 

I feel bad for those who'll be losing their jobs, who can't or won't relocate to Tennessee, no matter the vaunted quality of life to be found there. 

But does Massachusetts really want or need gun manufacturing?

Seriously, the only reason I can think of keeping some gun mfg here is that we just might want to keep some gun manufacture in the blue states like Massachusetts. The University of Virginia just released the results of a poll that showed that over half of Trump voters (52%) and a good clump of Biden voters (41%)  are at least somewhat receptive to the idea of splitting the country in two, blue states and red states. 

There are plenty of days when, as impractical as this idea is, and as dangerous as it could turn out to be, I'd be just fine with this. Truly, although I'd feel some concern for the leave behinds (in both directions), why not let the red states leave as long as they'd just leave the blue states alone. While we might fear them, I think that red state resentment of the blue states might just trump our fear. What do we do if Redstateistan decides to attack Bluestateia? They'll be armed and dangerous. And we won't go down without a fight. 

Things could definitely get ugly.

But let's not assume the worst case. Let's just say good riddance to Smith & Wesson. I don't blame them for leaving,  As a state, we don't like guns all that much. Smith & Wesson will no doubt be a lot happier in Tennessee.  And I'm a little relieved they've put their money where our mouth is.

Source of info used here: Boston Globe

Am I the only one who finds this kind of scary?

Channel 2, our local PBS, has been showing Rick Steves reruns weekday nights at 7:30 p.m., and I've been doing some arm chair traveling with Rick. 

My vicarious travels have of late taken me to Berlin, Florence, Rome, Venice, Paris, London, the Balkans, Southern France... Like Rick, I'm a Europhile. Almost all of my outside-the-US travel has been to Europe, someimes with a Rick Steves' guidebook under my arm.

I wouldn't mind going to Japan. Or New Zealand. Or Vietnam. But the older I get, the longer those flights start looking. So trips there are only on my small b bucket list, towards the bottom, in a tiny font. 

When I think of where I really want to go on the international scene, it's generally places I've been: Ireland, Paris. 

But mostly, I just want to go someplace. Since covid, I've been to Vermont (twice) and New Hampshire (once). Not that I don't love my New England, but I'm ready to put on my travelin' shoes and go somewhere that involves taking a plane.

China isn't on the someplace list. It's never been a must have to begin with. I'm sure it's fascinating and beautiful and all sorts of good things, but the crowds, the air pollution, the spitting... Not to mention the long flight. So, nah. And if it's always been a nah - of a meh at best - covid has pretty much put the nail in the coffin of my desire.

Not that I blame China for covid. Sure, I'll change my tune if we find out that the cooked up the virus in a lab and deliberately took the cork out of the vial. And, sure, having wet markets is pretty yuck. But, hey, pandemics happen.

And in terms of responding to covid-19, China didn't mess around. At one point, I remember seeing Chinese soldiers welding the doors of apartment buildings to make it easier to keep tabs on who was coming and going - and to make sure the covids weren't going. And it's still not messing around (which is, of course, a lot easier to do if you're an authoritarian country).

As countries around the world reopen borders and loosen coronavirus restrictions, Beijing is doubling down on its zero-Covid strategy. The latest example: a $260 million, 5,000-room quarantine facility for incoming travelers set to open in the southern metropolis of Guangzhou in the coming days.
Comprised of rows of three-story buildings topped with gray roofs in traditional Chinese style, the massive complex spans an area the size of 46 football fields and took less than three months to be built from scratch on

the outskirts of the city.

It will replace designated hotels located throughout Guangzhou to quarantine Chinese and international travelers arriving from overseas -- a move aimed at reducing residents' exposure to imported cases.

Travelers will be transferred on buses directly from the airport, and confined to their rooms for at least two weeks. Each room is fitted with a video chat camera and an artificial intelligence-powered thermometer, with three meals a day delivered by robots -- all designed to minimize direct contact with staff members. (Source: CNN)

China's borders have been pretty much closed to foreigners from the outset of the pandemic. The few who were allowed in, along with Chinese nationals returning home, have been required to hunker down for two weeks in one of those isolation hotels, then another week in home isolation. Now, travelers coming into Guangzhou- whether fully vaccinated or not (and China has a pretty high vaccination rate) - will spend their first two weeks in country biding their time, getting their meals delivered by robots, in this new state of the art quarantine facility.

It's anticipated that other such facilities will be constructed elsewhere in China, which pretty much suggests that China sees that we're going to be in pandemic mode for the long haul.

Frankly, the looks of this quarantine center terrifies me. (And I can't be the only one who thinks it looks like Auschwitz.) 

I know that plenty of countries have required visitors to quarantine. And maybe those lifting quarantine requirements, and generally opening things up, are acting prematurely. What if China's right?

Here's hoping that more people worldwide get themselves vaccinated. That the new Merck pill turns out to be a miracle cure. That the pandemic burns itself out. 

Like most folks I know, I'm itching to get back to traveling. But not so greatly that I'll be knocking on China's door anytime soon, even if they would let me in.

But I probably won't be going anywhere else in a hurry, either.

Best to wait this one out.

Tiny house with a big ol' price

It's no secret that I am enamored of tiny houses.

And I have been since I was a kid fantasizing how I could turn the bathroom - which couldn't have been more than 40 square feet - into my own personal living space. (Fold down bed over the tub. No kitchen facilities. I guess I assumed I'd come out at meal times and my mother would feed me.) 

For a number of years, I lived in a studio apartment, which I loved. It had a very tiny kitchen that I somehow made do with, and it also had a separate alcove that fit a desk, a bookcase, and a chest of drawers.. And a separate entrance way, with a door. And several closets. Even though I have by now accumulated a ton more stuff, I know I could do it again, only this time with nicer furniture than I could afford then. (I was rather fond of those two high-end director's chairs that I got on sale and Crate & Barrel.)

I look lustily at Brownie's Cabins on Route 6 in Wellfleet. If only I'd had the presence of mind to buy one when they went condo.

I'll tune in to any tiny house show on HGTV.

A few years ago, Trish and I went to a tiny house exhibit in Brattleboro. (Disappointing: most of them weren't furnished; some were just rough cuts.)

When I'm in a hotel room that I like, my mind will usually wander to how I could convert it to a home for myself.

So, tiny house 'R us. Or 'R me. Or could be...

But would I pay $449K for a 251 square foot standalone tiny house, even if it is in tony Newton Highlands, Mass? Hell to the no! Even if it does have a sleeping loft (kneeling height once you've climbed the ladder to reach it - ideal for the elderly) and a basement (accessible via bulkhead outside) that could be turned into living space.

“One of a Kind! Adorable Tiny Studio Home in Newton Highlands,” broker Hans Brings wrote in the online sales pitch for the home that sits on a 2,452-square-foot lot that includes 120 feet of frontage on Boylston Street, better known as Route 9. “Ideal for Casual Stays, Guest Home, Meditation, Exercise Room, Storage, or Whatever You Desire. (Source: Boston Globe)

$449K!!! But, hey, it is the ever-desirable open concept. 

They showed the house on the news the other evening, and it is adorable. But not $449K worth of adorable. And the owners may have spruced up the house, but there was no TLC for the grounds: ratty fence, unkept lot with three parking spaces. 

I suppose if you lived in the neighborhood and wanted an in-law suite or guest house or office, it would be fine. Still that price tag - which translates into $1,792 per each of the mingy 251 square feet - is pretty steep. You could more than add on to your regular own house for that kind of money.

The broker - Hans Brings - had a fun little algorithm for deciding on that price. 

Brings said the asking price reflects what market research shows is the entry-level cost of a single family home in Newton ($500,000) and the price for a condo in Newton ($400,000).

“So we averaged them out as a kind of single family condo alternative,’' he said.

Wow. That's some "market research." And some mighty interesting calculation. I know pricing is more art than science, but this is some crazy new math. 

I don't care how modest that Newton starter home is, you're no doubt getting a lot more home than 251 square feet. Likely at least another 1,000 square feet, the marginal cost of which would be $50 per square foot. A lot less than $1,732 per. Modified ditto for that $400K condo. 

This is some bit of insanity is all I can say.

On the news, someone was speculating that there might be a buyer who wanted a Newton address so their kids could go to the excellent Newton public schools. But you obviously couldn't live with a family in 251 square feet, even if you converted the basement into the kiddy dorm. And if you have $449K for a mailbox, and maintained your "real" home somewhere else, can probably afford to live in a town, like Newton, with good public schools.

They also said it would make a nifty pied a terre. No offense to Newton Highlands, but even in the crazy Boston housing market, you can get a tiny little condo for that kind of money- and actually be in town where you're near things rather than in a suburb. Late last spring, a 216 square foot pad went on the market for $425K. Or, nearly $2K per square foot. (Would this were the case across the board in Boston on the day I decide to sell my condo!)

I love me my tiny houses, but this is just madness I tell you, madness.

Sure, compared to The Troubles, a clown shortage is no big deal

Seven years ago, there was a clown shortage in the United States.

I missed it, perhaps because it was reported on the day my husband died, and I was pretty much focused on that.

Of course, a clown shortage wouldn't have bothered me in the least. All the world may theoretically love a clown, but include me out. I find clowns creepy, unfunny, crude, and often cruel. They're depressing. I find their attempts at humor pathetic.

But, unlike many folks, I don't fear clowns. I suppose that I once liked Clarabelle, the clown on Howdy Doody. But mostly I out and out loathe them. 

Ditto for the circus. Especially the clown part. (A couple of exceptions to the rule. I used to like the Big Apple Circus and their lead clown, Bello, who was mostly a brilliant high-wire/stunt man kind of performer who just happened to be a clown. And I will confess that I laughed when, a million years ago, while taking our nieces to the circus, a clown came by and dusted my husband's bald head with a feather duster. (The girls - neither of them clown people: it runs in the family - enjoyed that bit, too. As did my husband, mostly because the girls got a kick out of it.)

Anyway, whether or not the U.S. is still experiencing a clown shortage, or whether we've just blessedly learned to live with a dwindling number of clowns, there are shortages elsewhere. And one of those elsewhere places is Ireland.

What's brought it on?

The Irelands - North and the Republic - remain in a state of uncertainty about exactly how Brexit is going to impact them. Northern Ireland is part of the U.K., so no more open borders with E.U. countries. But Northern Ireland is also physically (not to mention in a lot of other ways) part of the island of Ireland. People have gotten used to easily getting back and forth between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland for shopping, entertainment, medical appointments, family visits, and good craic in the pubs. How exactly this is going to work out, whether Ireland becomes, as the song has it, a nation once again OR returns to the rare, not so good ould times of The Troubles in the North - remains up in the air.

Brexit also means that workers from E.U. countries won't have as easy a time getting jobs in the U.K. as they did when it was all one big happy family that the U.K. was part of. 

So I'm guessing that, if Northern Ireland can't find clowns, it has something to do with E.U. clowns (along with E.U. waitstaff, carpenters, healthcare workers, et al.) no longer being welcome in the U.K., unless they had already settled there pre-Brexit.

Then there's the pandemic and the lockdowns and the travel restrictions that are complicating things.

And it's the pandemic that's doing the most havoc-wreaking on the circuses that pitch their tents in Northern Ireland. At least Duffy's Circus, which is running short on clowns, thinks so. When the covid lockdowns began, Duffy's - the preeminent touring circus in Ireland - had to fold their tents and go home. 

Brexit, of course, doesn't directly impact Duffy's. Their headquarters is in the Republic, and a lot of their business is in the 26 counties. But a lot of it's in the North, as well, where they tour extensively. And with covid restrictions lifting, Duffy's, after 500 circus-free days, is looking to get back up and running.

For Duffy's, the clown shortage is most surely do to the pandemic.  So co-owner David Duffy "is appealing for people from Northern Ireland to become clowns."

The Covid-19 pandemic has caused a shortage of the performers, as many returned to their home countries when the first lockdown came into force in early 2020, according to Mr Duffy.

..."Because all the circuses in Europe and in England have been up and operational for the past six months, that huge pool of EU artists are already back at work and up until last week we haven't been able to even get visas issued for non-EU artists and entertainers," Mr Duffy said.

"That's why we're trying to reach out for any of our folks at home who feel that they can give it a go." (Source: BBC)

I don't know a lot about Northern Ireland. When I think of it, one of the first things that comes to my mind is the rock-ribbed Unionists of the Ian Paisley days, who are decidedly unfunny, especially when they march around Catholic neighborhoods banging their big drums each July when they celebrate "their" win in the Battle of the Boyne. 

Another thing I think of is the hard men of the IRA, and their opposite numbers in the Ulster Volunteer Force. No funny business with those (mostly) lads.

Oh, and my grandmother telling me that the Proddies used to throw rocks at her father when he went to market in Newry (Protestant territory not far from his home in County Louth) because he was a Taig (Catholic). Good times!

But the Irish, in general, are known for having a sense of humor. And one of the funniest recent shows on TV, Derry Girls is set in Ireland and is hilarious. (Sister Michael is a comic genius. Highly recommend.)

But sense of humor is one thing. Clowning is another.

And since clowns are unfunny, I really don't see much of a correlation between having a sense of humor and being a clown that goes much beyond the baggy-pants guy wandering around the audience looking for a bald guy whose head they can dust.

Anyway, good luck to Duffy's. I hope he finds what he's looking for. And I sure hope it doesn't look like this:

Sure, compared to the Troubles a clown shortage is no big deal.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Prior clown-related posts on Pink Slip:

I'd rather stay home forever
Clowning going buggy whip
Creepy clowns: they're back

And there's plenty more where these came from. Did I mention that I loathe clowns?

True confession: I was a devious licker!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meanwhile, TikTok removed the hashtag.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We'd had it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And thus ends my true confession for the day.

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

Does Ford really have a better idea?

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

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

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

And now, she's

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lifestyle brand, here we come!

Well, actually not here me come. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But to front for a commercial, corporate brand? 

I just don't get it. 

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

Huh?   

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

studied "the neurobiology and physiology of human behavior." 

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

LogMeIn goes all-in on the remote-centric workplace

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

The company is LogMeIn, and I know them well.

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

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

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

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

About five years ago, I called it quits there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You know, the law really can be an ass

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In what universe does this make any sense?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom Brady shilling for Subway? Huh?

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

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

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

Ah, Tom Brady.

Two things:

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

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

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

Plenty healthy. Not all that weird. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So I can understand why Subway would want Tom Brady.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brady on Record

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

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

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

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

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

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

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