Category Life

Better to be like a cat on a hot tin roof than act like a little tin god

Michael 4 Comments

Do you know there is an actual, literal, honest to goodness dearth of tindioms? Tindiom? That’s an idiom with tin in it. There just aren’t a whole bunch of them. Those two in this post’s title, tin ear, kick the tin, and put a tin lid on it are about the lot of them. But why this fascination with tin anyway you ask. And that’s a darn good ask if you ask me. Oh, you did. Well, I went in search of a tindiom that I could twist about to title this selection because tin is the traditional tenth anniversary gift and this weekend The Real Reality Show Blog celebrates ten years of driving drivel through the ethernet. The first post of what would become one of the least read Internet offerings ever was launched on November 7, 2011 (at 6:11am) (EST).

It dawned on me that for all that time, through all those 926 posts, except that I encourage flu shots and am inordinately fond of groundhogs one day a year, you don’t know much about me. That’s okay, I don’t either. If I told you anything about me then it likely has little bearing to what’s happening with me now anyway. Then was a while ago. It was a cancer diagnose ago, a kidney transplant ago, a handful of trips to a couple oceans ago, too many surgeries to count ago, lost friends and neighbors ago, a career ago, 120 pounds ago, and three residences ago. And there are a handful of sinces since then too. There’s been new chances since, new career since, new purpose since, and new friends since. There are probably other agos and more sinces, but you get the idea. Ten years is a long time, even for an old fogie like me.

I could say, “Hi, How are you? It’s a pleasure to meet you. Let me tell you something about myself,” but you have to understand that by next week that something might no longer be relevant. Might be no longer relevant? No longer might be relevant? Well, the first thing you should know about me is that for ten years and 926 posts, I never met an infinitive I couldn’t split, a clause I couldn’t subordinate or a metaphor I couldn’t mix. I may talk a good game but when it comes to writing it, well, that’s a whole different kettle of ball games.

Before I was forced into an early medical retirement I spent over 40 years as a pharmacist working in hospitals and nursing homes and home care agencies, wrote more than a handful of management papers, presented at conferences across a couple countries, and rose very high in the management ranks of one company before it was merged into another then rose sort of high in another, yet when somebody meets me they want to know (and yes, this is true and I have indeed by asked this more than once) if there is a class in pharmacy school where we learn how to pour out of a big bottle into a little bottle and can I do it without dripping stuff all over the counter. Maybe, I don’t know. I never worked in a drug store.

Today I use what I learned managing hospital pharmacies to encourage those are likewise today engaged in any leadership, management, supervisory, or people directing role, that there is more to leading than just saying “follow me” and hope they come. I’ve partnered with a friend who’s background is similar in some respects, varied in other, and even more colorful in some to establish a leadership education foundation (roamcare.org) where we write blogs and articles (and hopefully soon, books), present podcasts, speak at conferences, and generally “refresh workplace enthusiasm.” That’s our motto: Refreshing workplace enthusiasm.

We’ve been doing our part to refresh people’s enthusiasm for a little over a year and it’s a hard row to hoe. Even ten years ago there was much less competition for attention on the interwebs and somehow, even the RRSB blog managed to gather over 800 followers. How many actually read it is suspect. When the email goes out with a new post, the entire post is included so there is no reason for somebody to go to the site or reader to enjoy my content, but I know emails are opened and I assume those are being read by loyal enthusiasts of whatever this is.  I’m fascinated with those who can publish their first blog and I’ll notice “1400 people liked this post” and 700 of them commented on it. Someday I hope our ROAMcare operation has as loyal readers as I and as many readers as others.

So there now, somehow I managed to come up with 900 words or so when I had nothing but I knew I wanted to use “tin” in the title – and managed to use it twice! Now you know, if you hadn’t already suspected, that I’ve been sitting down to write first a couple times a week, now at least once a week, (and for a fortunately very short time 5 times a week) for some 520 weeks with I think 3 or 4 weeks off when I was in intensive care and there was no available outlet for the laptop among all the electronic lifesaving doodads that were plugged in.

If I’m still around ten years from now I hope I can give you an update on the foundation. I suppose I should start now figuring out how to work “china” into that title. [sigh] Happy anniversary to me!

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Where the magic happens

Ordering in the court

Michael 3 Comments

It shouldn’t surprise me anymore, but it does. Americans (I’ll say we Americans because I do it too sometimes and no doubt you have also) like to brag on our intelligence and sense of right and wrong, and even sticking up for the proverbial little guy now and then. And then at some other now and thens we are reminded we are also the providers and consumers of the American justice system and its second cousin, the American legal system.

If the justice system is looking to right wrongs and support the little guy, the legal system is often looking out to maximize billable hours or its contingency in lieu of. You have certainly heard of the most recent legal tussles between the Kellogg accompany and strawberries lovers the world over, or at least the country over. Yes, Big Fooda is once again being called out for misleading labeling, calling their strawberry Pop-Tart toaster pasties strawberry when there is so little strawberry in them. The petition claims if the purchaser knew how little strawberry was actually contained in the pastry, she would not have made the purchase. Claiming she wanted more than just strawberry taste, she is seeking 5 million dollars in a class action lawsuit. (Hold that thought. We will get back to it shortly.)

This isn’t the first time Kellogg has been called out on its labeling practices. Its not even the first time this year. They are currently fending off accusations that their Frosted Mini Wheat cereal is more than “lightly sweetened.” This on the heels of a legal challenge than Kellogg-owned Morningstar Farms Veggie Hot Dogs, Veggie Burgers, Veggie Meatballs, and variety of Veggie [These and Those] contain an insignificant amount of vegetables and are thus misleadingly labeled. Kellogg is thus defending themselves against another 5 million dollar class action (keep holding) lawsuit.

Kellogg is not alone among Big Fooda in as targets of legal label interpretations. Post Foods found themselves the target of class action action, claiming there isn’t enough honey in their Honey Bunches of Oats and other products bearing the honey label to warrant being honey labeled products. Just this month the lawsuit claiming Subway Restaurants Inc.’s tuna sandwiches and wraps contained “anything but tuna” was dismissed. And in a rather unusual labeling lawsuit, McCormick and Company has just settled a class action challenge, offering $3 million to plaintiffs for adding the word “natural” to a variety of products. The argument was not that the so labeled products are not natural, but that the word was added only to justify a price increase as the demand for natural products increased.

Although you might be tempted (I certainly am) to blame the American legal system for class action suits, they go back to thirteenth century England. As the feudal system declined and capitalism grew, group litigation also declined until the mid-nineteenth century. While it was falling out of favor in England its use was simultaneously increasing in the United States. In 1942 the United States Supreme Court passed a Federal rule in civil proceedings allowing one person to file suit on behalf of a group of plaintiffs.

You would think this is a good thing when a group of people are injured or otherwise affected by the single, common action, allowing those wronged the opportunity to have their plights corrected, pains lessened, or be compensated regardless of how big and powerful the deed doer is. Indeed, many significant events in American history owe their existence to class action suits. Brown vs Board of Education (1954) establishing schools integration and foretelling the dismantling of “Jim Crow” laws and Jenson vs Eveleth Taconite Company (1984) defining unwanted sexual advances and intimidation as forms of abuse are two examples of class actions whose resulting decisions were felt and continue to be felt by more than the original group of plaintiffs represented by that single person.

At the same time however, class action has become a fees mill for those specializing in group litigation. Consider the McCormick settlement.  Three million dollars will be divided among all those filing claims up to $15 per claimant to reimburse for purchases made from January 2013 to September 2021- probably a more than fair settlement for something that caused no illness, injury, abuse, embarrassment, loss or life, liberty or the pursuit of well season foods. If the Pop-Tart suit is upheld, the class certified, and then won or goes to settlement, it is likely about the same results as the McCormick settlement will be seen. Clearly these are not financial windfalls for the plaintiffs nor are significant advances in food safety being instituted. But the whether there are significant life altering decisions as in Anderson vs Pacific Gas and Electric (which you might recognize as “The Erin Brockovich case”), or it’s just people getting particular about how much strawberry is in a Pop-Tart, the lawyers still get their percentage up to 40% – on the total settlement.

I wonder, if the legal fees were capped to 40% of each individual award, would those who specialize in “protecting” the little guy still want go all out to protect us from Big Fooda and their unscrupulous toaster pastries for about 7 bucks?

2 + 2 5 (10)

The Nose Knows

Michael 2 Comments

If this sounds familiar it is. I’ve asked this question before and nobody could supply a good answer so I’m putting it out there again.

What insanity has infested the minds of the people who name men’s toiletries and bath products?

This is important stuff! Forget pandemics, forget riots in the streets, turn all that social media energy aware from climate change and dictator of the week discussions. Arguing the merits of masks and vaccines mean nothing until somebody can adequately describe exactly what “hydrate” smells like!

AxeAnarchyAll this politically correct talk about gender neutrality and sexlessness and inclusivity hasn’t reached the men’s fragrance department. Women soaps, deodorants, shampoos, and other whatnots applied behind closed bathroom doors still make sense.  Who doesn’t know, or at least can reasonable imagine, what honeysuckle smells like? Women get rose oil, jasmine, green apple, and if you’re feeling a little adventurous, cucumber. Along with the aforementioned “hydrate,” men get “fresh,” ‘hi-def,” and “balance.” Women can relax under “waterfall mist” while men get stuck with “anarchy.” Not kidding.

There is a men’s deodorant fragrance “Strength.” My first thought is a bunch of sweaty guys in a gym lifting weights. And this is what I want to walk around all day smelling like? No thanks! There’s also a men’s deodorant called “Clean.” A little more to my liking, but as with its close cousin “Fresh,” aren’t those things that shouldn’t have a smell. I mean if it’s clean it doesn’t need a scent, right?

Whatever happened to the dye and fragrance free fad. Can’t we just have soap. Does everything have to enhance, isn’t it enough to just make ourselves clean and fresh without have to apply “clean” or “fresh” after washing?

Anarchy. Wow. Now there’s something I bet you won’t see a scratch and sniff sample of.

Brain Dump, Part Waytoomany

Michael 6 Comments

Ladies and gentlemen and all varieties in between, it’s another edition of Clear. Your. Mind.

Yes boys, girls and undecided, now it’s that time again to empty the mind of all the useless, senseless, often humorless, and always commonsense-less bits of information clogging my brain and causing cranial constipation.

I don’t know if this is a national thing or just for the locals here who have a hard time leaving home without loaded guns in their carry-ons. I noted a number of times the alarming rate that loaded handguns are confiscated at airport TSA security lines. After the security screeners snagged 5 loaded weapons in a 7 day period and 29 in 40 weeks, the local paper reported on the local office of the U. S. Attorney’s Office announcement that anyone henceforth found attempting to enter the airport secure areas so armed will be relieved not just of their rods but their permits to carry said weaponry.  Interestingly a poll appearing in the same paper indicated 35% of those questioned felt this punishment was too harsh. One comment included, “How will the district attorney feel when somebody’s family is hurt after he took away their protection.” Hmm, let’s see. These bozos, err, honest gun permit holders whom claim they meant not to carry a loaded gun through security, they merely forgot the guns were in their carry-ons. Yet we are to believe those bozos, err strong protectors of family sleep with their carry-ons under their pillows ready to defend family or fortune.

The defense in the trial of the bozo, err alleged future convicted mass murderer of 11 people and injurer of another 6 at the Tree of Life Synagogue shooting in October 2018, wants anti-Semitic statements made by him at the scene disallowed because they were made while he was receiving medical care and is therefore protected health communication. Hmmm, and someone went to law school to come up with that.

A recent letter to the editor in one of the local papers expressed dismay at government vaccine mandates. Politicians have no business making medical decisions, then went in to express support and admiration for Texas Governor Greg Abbott for banning vaccine mandates. Hmm. Isn’t not doing something a medical decision too – or maybe bozos, err governors don’t qualify as politicians?

But the brain isn’t filled with only bozo-ish occurrences. I also have to try to eliminate the mental picture of girding my loins, which apparently is really a thing as noted in The Art of Manliness (oy), see 👇

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Press or Say…

Michael 5 Comments

I had such a variety of topics to pick this week, but to make a long story short, I had a killer phone call with an insurance company that deserves to be talked about. That’s right – an insurance company. Who  would have thought that anybody, anywhere, ever  would come away from a phone call with an insurance company and feel good about it

In general, insurance companies’ phone systems and auto-attendants are designed by the progeny of the Marquis de Sade. Everybody has gone through the drill at least once. Everybody who has insurance. You call the number and get a robotic message similar to this.

“Thank you for calling the Incredibly Misleading Insurance Company, your one stop for home, health, life, auto, renters, business, boat, builders, boat builders, long term care, after care, personal liability, personal property, and accident insurance. To continue un English, press one, para continuar en español presione dos, lietuviams stumti trečiąjį numerį, bizning o’zbekcha to’rtni bosing versiyasi uchun, moun ki pale kreyòl ayisyen peze nimewo senk lan, att höra dessa instruktioner i svensk press sex, aŭ se vi estas unu el la ĉirkaŭ tri homoj, kiuj efektive parolas Esperanton, elektu la numeron sep.”

Your make your selection and in a reasonable facsimile of the language you selected you get the following instructions

“To give you the absolute best in class service please make your selections from the following, but please listen to all options carefully because we changed this from the last time you called.
Press or say 1 to pay your bill
Press or say 2 to get your current balance due and pay your bill
Press or say 3 to hear outstanding claims and pay your bill
Press or say 4 to hear policy options and pay your bill
2 + 2 5 (3)          Press or say 5 to change add or change your policy or increase your policy limits and pay your bill
Press or say 6 to file a claim and pay the new higher premium we will assess you as soon as you press or say 6
Press or say 7 to request a copy of your policy or proof of coverage, pay the service charge for said copy and then pay your bill
Press or say 8 to hear these options again in a different order
Press or say 9 to (hehe) speak with a representative [chuckle]”

Naturally you need to speak to a representative or you would have used the website to conduct your business so you press or say 9, and you are told by the friendly cyborg:

“In order to serve you more efficiently please enter your 43 digit account number, 78 character alpha-numeric policy number, the last eight digits of your Social Security Number, your billing zip code, the number you are calling from, and the first three digits of your childhood pediatrician’s office street address.”

Surprisingly you manage to enter all the required information and the cheerful android tells you:

“In order that I transfer you to the representative to help you best, please tell me what type of assistance your need. Press or say 1 to pay your bill…”

…and on and on.

If you’re lucky, you remember that if you press 0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0 you will be immediately transferred to some unprepared service representative and you might get some satisfaction to the problem responsible for the call to begin with before they put you on “a brief hold” and you are cut off.

But today, I called my medical insurance carrier, specifically myMedicare supplement insurance carrier. And I got the following (the names are changed because I don’t want them to know I’m blabbing this all over the universe):

“Thank you for calling the We Really Do Care Insurance Company. I see you are calling from [repeats my number]. If this is [states my name], press 1, if not, press 2, en espanol, numero tres.”

I press 1.

“Thank you. How can we help you today? You can say “pay my bill,” “track a claim,” “ask a policy question,” or “speak to a representative.””

I said “Speak to a representative,” and in about 20 seconds a cheerful human voice answered. “Hi this is Friendly Frieda. The computer told me who you are but before I continue, please confirm your billing ZIP code.” I did that and in a little over 5 minutes I had all my business transacted. Whew!

That’s it. No drama. No rant. Maybe next week.

It’s time to shoot up again

Michael 4 Comments

There’s so much happening in the world, in the country in the state and I can’t do anything about it. Really, I’ve tried and the world/country/state hasn’t budged. But I can do something about me, for me, and help the world/country/etc/etc/etc at the same time. I can see it in your eyes! You know where I’m going!! Yes, you are 100% right. I’m going to get a flu shot. Much more fun than getting the flu. Trust me, I’ve had both. I was going to write a whole new post about flu shots but I’ve already done did that a dozen times or so, so I reached back to 2016 and pulled this one out. It’s still good stuff. Then after you read it, go get your flu shot. It’s about that time again!

Just Shoot Me

(From October 24, 2016, slightly edited to remove unnecessarily big words)

I’ve been shot. I suppose it was about 10 days ago now. I got my flu shot. I can probably count on one hand the number of years I didn’t get a flu shot all the way back to when I can remember doctors keeping lollipops on their desks for the good boys and girls who got their flu shots.

For years I worked in a hospital and getting a flu shot was just something you did every year. It went along with doing annual evaluations, decorating for Halloween, and renewing your parking permit. Everyone grumbled about it but everyone did it.flu

Now that I’m not working I have to remind myself to get a flu shot. And while I was busy reminding myself I thought I’d remind you. Get your flu shot.  If you are a southern hemisphere resident hold that thought for 6 months.

I never understood people who would come up with a dozen different reasons not to get a flu shot when it’s so effective at preventing the flu and when getting the flu can be so devastating. No, you won’t get the flu from the flu shot. You can’t get the flu from a flu shot any more than a zombie will eat your brains. The virus in the flu shot is dead – even more dead than an undead zombie. It can’t come back to life and infect you. What can happen is that you can get a cold or a fall allergy or a seasonal bacterial sinus or respiratory infection at the same time you get the flu shot but it’s not the flu.

You can get the flu in the same year that you get the flu shot if you don’t get it at the right time. Now is the right time. The flu shot doesn’t start working the instant the needle pierces your skin. It takes about two weeks for the vaccine to work its magic on your immune system so it is at its peak in protecting you against a live flu infection. You should schedule your shot about a month before the anticipated beginning of the flu season. If you wait too long to get a flu shot and you are exposed to the flu virus before your body can adequately prepare enough antibodies to repel an assault you can get the flu. The high dose version of the flu shot may provide effective resistance a bit sooner but should not be used as an option to timely inoculation.

You can also get the flu late in the season even if you got a flu shot if the circulating viruses mutate more quickly than expected and if your immune system is weakened by age or compromised by other diseases or conditions. For individuals with compromised immune systems the flu vaccine should be active for about six months. If you have weakened immune system and the active flu season in your area is expected to last past March or April you might consider asking your physician if you should repeat the flu shot six months after your initial vaccination.

Sorry if this post sounded too much like a public service announcement. It’s probably just a result of those years I spent in public service

A change in the air

Michael 5 Comments

Once upon a time they lived happily ever after (1)Yesterday was first day of Autumn. Or today. Today is the first full day of Autumn.  The distinction is most likely only important to whichever weather person was on air yesterday versus who is on air today. Either yesterday or today you must have noticed the difference when you woke up? The trees are now covered with bright colorful leaves, pumpkins are lining all the by-ways, there’s a smell of warm apple cider in the air, and that air is decidedly cooler than it was yesterday with decidedly fewer daylight hours. Well, maybe not quite. In truth there isn’t much difference between summer and fall if yesterday and tomorrow are the comparisons. If you’re in the Southern Hemisphere, just read this paragraph backwards. There’s not much change between the last day of Winter and the first of Spring either. Seasons just don’t change that quickly.

In truth, any change seldom happens quickly, but it happens. And it happens inexorably. Things you barely notice from day to day add up so over time the change becomes monumental. Take yourself for example. You likely are not noticeably different than you were yesterday, maybe not from last week, perhaps even barely noticeably different from last year. But compared to five years ago, ten years, twenty years…the change is remarkable.

Something that rarely changes is our desire not to change. Almost everybody prefers the familiarity of now to the point they would choose a future to be no different than the now. Except now. Our “now” is taking a great toll on us. It is a hard now that we’d gladly change for calmer times. Unfortunately, those calmer times may come with their own set of peril. To me, Eden is the fictional town of Mayfield were the Cleavers raised their two sons, a few miles from Bryant Park where Uncle Charlie helped Steve Douglass raise his three sons, which isn’t so far from the Springfield were Jim Anderson knew best how he and Margaret would raise their two daughters bookended around their only son. Springfield barely changed from week to week yet somehow, it’s unrecognizable now when Homer and Marge struggle with their brood. I’d rather live in the Springfield of the fifties, the Mayfield or Bryant Park of the sixties, than the 21st century Springfield or any other model community even if it meant living in a politically incorrect time of two genders, people advancing on merit, family values, and inter-generational respect.

So, now you’re going to ask, what about segregation, marginalization, anti-Semitism, homophobia, the Cold War, and inner-city gangs? So, now I will ask you, why are all those still going on? Last week a young man in a Pittsburgh, PA suburb shot three people at a baby shower, for his expected child by the way, over an argument of who would transport the gifts from the venue to the home. Over 4500 Asian hate crimes were reported in the first seven months of 2021. In one week in May 2021, the Anti-Defamation League found more than 17,000 tweets using variations of the phrase “Hitler was right.” Violent crimes against the marginalized group of hearing, visually, and physically challenged persons are more than double for non-challenged males and over three times as prevalent against women versus their non-challenged counterpart. Just last month, the Associated Price reported that a parent barged into his daughter’s elementary school in Northern California and punched a teacher in the face, sending him to an emergency room, over mask rules. So, I ask those who say my idyll is a paradise for only the privileged white male, how they would like to respond to these.

Ah yes, there is a change in the air. If we could only tell which way the wind will blow next.

Just suppose…

Michael 8 Comments

Hang on kids, the ride is about to leave the station!  I wouldn’t have to rant so much and so often if humans, well, if Americans weren’t so gosh-darned stupid. I seriously mean that, and I mean all of them, even me sometimes (but not as often as every other single person in the country).  I warn you right now, I’ve started this three times. This is, believe it or not(!), the least offensive version I can manage. Hey, somethings are just plain offensive, and no amount of whitewash or orange hair dye can cover them.

Let’s say you own an art studio. You may not be the best artist in the world, but you know what you like, you’ve done this for a while, and you’re reasonably good at it. But you can’t be everywhere your art is, so you hire a representative to, well, to represent you. For some reason, that representative who said at his/her/its job interview that it/she/he was 385% behind you, working for you 29 hours a day 11 days a week 62 weeks a year, now decides he/she/it has his/her/its own ideas and it/she/he will do whatever she/he/it damn well, sorry, darn well  feels like and right now that is promoting its/her/his own brand of bathtub gin. Now after a couple years of not only not selling any of your art pieces, but not even knowing or bothering to learn anything about your art, it/she/he comes to you promising to be 873% behind you 59 hours a day 1112 days of the year, sign it him or her up for another 2 year stretch and you won’t regret it. And guess what? You do! Dumbass!

Now let’s say you fell out of a tree and broke your arm. Your arm is clearly broken. There’s bone sticking out and blood pouring from the hole it made in you. Your losing blood fast and you have time to make only one phone call for help before you pass out. You choices are: 911, the local EMS non-emergency number, the nice doctor who lives across the street, the kid who works at the grocery store and restocks the first aid supplies, the hospital emergency room, your insurance company, and the representative who hasn’t sold any of your paintings even though you just rehired her/it/him and gave it/him/her a raise.  So who do you turn to? Why naturally, you pick the deadbeat representative, the one who has no connection with health or medicine, even a connection as tenuous as the one who at least works with first aid supplies. Dumbass!!

Now as long as we’re supposing, let’s suppose you have a youngster, a kiddo, a small person hanging around your house who vaguely looks like you. And let’s say that child of yours is 8 or 9 years old and this young person wants to play football, so you send this young person off to play football. Why not? This young person did last year and had no problem. You bought this young person the very best equipment that credit could buy including a wonderfully decorated helmet and this young person stayed safe all season long. So this year when this young person wants to play football again you say “sure darn tootin’ you can!” and you send this young person off to play football! But… there’s always a but and some are big and dumb …but, you’ve been ready Facetokgramditter and saw that the bath tub gin swilling art representative say there’s no scientific proof that football helmets protect football players, even this your person size and age football players, and it fact it makes it harder to play football and violates the first 17 amendments to the Constitution and that goes double for anybody who ever already got hurt playing football because now those people have built up an immunity to injuries and probably won’t even need to wear seatbelts in the car on the way to the game.  So you happily send your young person off to play football with a sign to carry in front of the field that says, “No More Helmets,” “My Head Can’t Breathe,” and “Students Stand Up Against Tyranny.” Dumbass!!!

dumbassNow let’s suppose one last thing. Let’s suppose this is all a bad dream, there are no bathtub gin swilling art representatives, we let medical professionals make medical decisions, we don’t pretend to know what’s best for anybody, and we certainly don’t force kids to walk into dangerous situations just because. Did you think we can suppose that everyone cooperates like we did last 16 months ago, because last I looked, we’re about in the same boat as 16 months ago. No I don’t suppose we can. That’s why I just got my third COVID shot. Thank you. Bunch of dumbasses.

That’s it. The rant is over. See you next week.

Shoot the messenger

Michael Leave a comment

You might think from the title of this post that I’m getting ready to set on a rant about those demonstrating for or against the gripe of the week, and sometimes both, but no, those aren’t the messengers who are annoying me this week even though their messages are annoying as anything. I’m getting ready to rant about messages more than messengers, text messages, and in particular, group text messages. Although…there are messengers who initiate those group messages so, yes, let’s rant about them too.

Do you remember when email was “new” and about once a week the office manager, HR VP, sometimes the company president, would send an email around that said, “Do not ‘Reply All’ when answering group emails,” which was particularly good advice if your reply was “what a bozo move that is!” to whatever directive the email contained.

Actually, that still goes on in the companies that communicate by email. But as the world has grown faster and more impatient to the point that many are finding email to be too slow. More and more messengers are turning to text messages. Everybody carries cell phones now. Nearly everybody’s cell phones are smart phones (many smarter than their owners) so sharing documents, spreadsheets, internet links, and images are no more difficult that doing so by email. And people look at their phones. Emailers are not unaware that the “efficient business experts” have long suggested that to not be tired to one’s email, establish email hours and check inboxes at specific and limited times. Immediate email responses are things of the past. Ah, but text messages. Everybody reads texts as soon as they pop in. They could be something important like a happy hour invitation or a link to a cat video.

Although it is possible to reply to just the sender of a group text message, that takes an extra step and only the most fastidious recipient turned responder might be willing to take the extra step, Otherwise, reply all is the default and the default routinely is taken. Back in the good old days of emails, although the occasional reply all snuck through, most recipients never had to bother taking care to choose the correct reply option because they didn’t intend to reply at all. It was an age when if you didn’t have anything to say, you didn’t have to say anything. But that doesn’t work with text messages. Oh no, if you get a text, you will send a text. It’s only right they must think. And so everybody knows who among them thinks “what a bozo move that is” and what everybody else thinks at 10 or 12 second intervals even if all they think is “OK” or “Thx!” or 👍.

So don’t be a bozo, or even just move like one. Keep your group responses to yourself. Or at least only to the sender. OK? Thx! 👍. 🙂

Once upon a time they lived happily ever after

The case against the chef knife

Michael 6 Comments

Yes, you read that title correctly. We are boycotting, rejecting, protesting the use of, and generally shunning chef’s knives, or just as appropriate, chef knives. Chef knives out, I say! Except for me, because like so many Americans, particularly the unvaccinated, unmasked, and uninformed of which I am none, I’m special.  Please keep in mind I have no formal culinary training, no background in knifeology, sliceology or dicematics, and no experience as a professional cutter. But like those who have no medical training and very little common sense who insist on making up their own facts while still believing the pandemic is a hoax designed to get microchips implanted in every human by way of the vaccine, not knowing anything about knives is no reason not to spread my truth about knives.

Chefs, particularly famous, celebrity chefs much more so than the relatively unknown celebrity chefs and definitely the ones who if they don’t sell knives at least use knives, all say if they were stranded on a desserted island, not to be confused with a deserted island, and they could have only one thing in all the world, they would want to please be allowed to keep their chef knives. Of course, if they were on a dessserted island they would need their knives to prepare something sweet. If they were on a deserted island the one thing they would want would be a ticket back home, price is no object. That’s what I would want too. Anyway, getting back to the desserted island, personally I believe I’d want a whisk because whipped cream goes best with sweets, and there is just no way you can slice or dice heavy cream fast enough to make it light and fluffy. Again, just my opinion.

Those who really know how to use a chef’s knife, the chef, can go ahead and use it to their heart’s content. They don’t tell you that they are big, heavy, sharp, and unwieldy to wield if you haven’t been trained in their use. They then compound it and say to get the most out of your chef knife you need a big one – a 12 incher, or at least 10 inches.  Even the girl chefs, hmm women chefs, umm, even the chefs who identify as anything other than male with male parts down there will argue that size does matter. They flash their foot long 4 billion dollar carbon steel machete on television where the camera angles deftly screen from view most of the blood, then when you try it at home where you don’t have a staff of twenty doing the real work, you find yourself plucking the tips of the fingers of your non-dominant hand out of the stir-fry ingredients.

Save yourself the embarrassment of yet again explaining to the EMTs where to find the cooler and zip top bags for ice for the trip to the emergency room and stick with a Homecook’s Knife, also just as appropriate, the Normal Knife. I think with a well balance, well sharpened, reasonably priced utility knife, you too can prepare meals your family will think are just dandy. If you happen to be exception at home cookery, like I am (again, just my opinion – no, that’s a fact), you could step into the world of responsibly chef knife ownership.

You see here my personal knife collection. That’s it and I make almost every meal I eat. No, seriously, really I do. So far this year I have eaten other people’s cooking about 24 times and it is September. That’s a bunch of meals prepped.

Knives

So then, this is my working cutlery. I use a short, 8 inch chef knife when I get all cheffy and decide to use it and then it is mostly for fine dicing, there’s nothing better than it for chopping green onions and chives, and I like mincing herbs and smushing cloves of garlic with it. Sometimes I put extra garlic in things just so I can pound the living daylights out of them with the side of the…. umm, but I digress. I’m sure somebody who owns 6 restaurants would laugh at it but then I actually know how vaccines work because I really did go to school for that. Below that is a 7 inch utility knife, the workhorse for my cutting and slicing, something you will never see on a televised food competition. Both of those are Vitorinox and they get honed after each use and sharpened only when needed. With the utility knife I can cut most anything from produce to poultry and with its thin blade I can even skin and filet fish. The paring knife is another frequent visitor to the cutting board and is an OXO product. The serrated knife is by El Cheapo and almost never comes out of the block but every now and then I need those teeth.  The whole kit and kaboodle, including a good honing steel and kitchen shears cost less than $150, about half of what the famous guys will spend on their one necessity for Dessert Island. Which reminds me, maybe next week we’ll talk about whips. Balloon whips for whipping eggs and cream for crying out loud! (Sheesh)

Now that we’re done with stuff I don’t know nothing about, on Tuesday I will be getting my vaccine booster shot because I am immunocompromised. If for some ridiculous, completely unscientific reason you are unvaccinated, and you don’t intend to ever at all vaccinate, would please be so kind as to wear a mask while you read my blog posts. Thank you very much. Big chef knives were sent here by aliens.