Snowmageddon, Trump's Promises and Press Talk

Snowmageddon: The East Coast is bracing for its first major snowstorm of the winter season. I’ve got gasoline ready to pour into my snowblower (hope it starts) and snow shovels ready to be pushed in case the forecasters are off slightly and we get just a few inches and not the half-foot or greater amount of snowflakes on our driveway and front walk. I even braved Costco early Friday to stock up on birdseed (Gilda and I have little need for milk or bread). We are loaded up on lots of DVR’ed movies and TV shows, so we will not lack entertainment should we be snowed in.

Pity the poor family that scheduled a Saturday wedding or bar/bar mitzvah. It snowed on Gilda’s and my wedding night 43 years ago this Thursday, but not until all our guests were inside enjoying the festivities. They trekked home in some six inches of snow. 

For sure Saturday won’t be a good day for sit down restaurants, though take-out Chinese and pizza shops should do well if they offer delivery (pity the poor delivery driver). Snow plow contractors finally will be able to justify tooling around for months with plows attached to the front of their four-wheel drive vehicles. And energetic high school kids will reap rewards from shoveling their neighbors’ lots.

Aside from the loss of overtime by municipal and state road clearing crews plus the lost revenue by independent contractors, the lack of snow has had other unreported economic ramifications. Fewer motorists have had to frequent car washes, for instance. Yes, hardware stores may finally sell their inventory of shovels and ice melting pellets, but they have lost out on impulse sales earlier visits to their stores might have generated. Shoe shiners haven’t had to restore slushed-up leather while auto collision shops have had fewer fender benders to straighten. 

Less snow and warmer weather have meant more people have been outdoors, eating out and shopping, though not for winter coats and other cold weather paraphernalia.

The obvious big losers in the Northeast have been ski slope operators and the businesses that rely on their clientele to patronize their coffee shops, boutiques and lodgings.   

Trump's Promises: Perhaps you thought I have been too harsh in my critiques of Donald Trump and his wacked-out supporters (oh no, there I go again demeaning the mentally challenged). Just in case you need more convincing as to the absurdity of his campaign, take a few moments to read through this exhaustive list of Trump’s promises, courtesy of Jenna Johnson of The Washington Post: http://wpo.st/29d51.

You might find the comments section quite entertaining, as well.

Press Talk:  One of the traits his supporters admire is Trump’s free-wheeling, non-politically correct speech. His no-holds-barred delivery is 180 degrees apart from the seemingly careful, programmed pronouncements from Hillary Clinton. Listening to her the other day during an NPR interview in Iowa, I was amazed and impressed (and I don’t mean those terms to be construed as all positive) by her responses. She rarely answered a question directly. Rather, she first chose to provide background information so her positions would be grounded in context, at least the context she wanted the listener to have.

I was reminded of my own interviewing experience, not when I did the questioning but rather the times I was on the receiving end of the interrogation. Now that I’m no longer a paid journalist, a word to the wise: If at all possible, avoid being interviewed. Interviews exist in a “no control” environment where words may well be taken out of context even by the best of reporters. 

When I answered questions from reporters, on average about once a week, concerning retail trends or specific companies, I spoke very slowly and carefully and always with lots of context. It was ego-boosting to see myself quoted, but I never took for granted that my words would be construed as I intended. 

So cut Hillary or any politician, for that matter, a little slack when you see them answering questions. A misspoken comment can cost the presidency. Just remember what happened to President Gerald Ford when he (wrongly) said during a presidential debate in 1976, “There is no Soviet domination of eastern Europe, and there never will be under a Ford administration.” His administration was booted out of office one month later. 

Birthdays Can Be a Pain, But Spring Is in the Air

When I woke up on my 35th birthday I was more than a little distressed to experience pain in my right hip, a pain I had never felt before. The pain vanished the next day. Being no stranger to pain of unknown origin, and being a hypochondriac of some repute as defined by friends and family, I took my temporary condition in stride. The pain in my hip has not returned.

Now, 31 years to the day later, I awoke last Friday not with pain in my hip but with a sharp pain in my lower right back, along the waistline, a pain I have suffered through before but not lately. Gilda has told me it’s arthritis, that stretching exercises would ameliorate much of the agony. Do I listen to her? Not exactly. 

It’s not that I’m a glutton for pain. It’s not that I don’t trust her. It’s just … I’m lazy. I hate exercising, and I suffer the consequences. The pain has persisted over the weekend, with occasional respite. 

I wasn’t the only object feeling my age Friday. Reluctantly, I finally had to jettison the Macbook I received when working on Chain Store Age and purchased when I retired. Seems a mid-2007 operating system, even upgraded to the maximum, isn’t compatible with today's real and future tech world. 

Reality came crashing down on me when I tried to load a disk of TurboTax. My upgraded system reached its limit at OS X. v10.6.8. TurboTax required at least 10.7.5. So my birthday present to myself was a new MacBook Air. Of course, the MacBook Air doesn’t have a disk slot, so I have to buy a stand alone disk drive, but isn’t that par for the course, any time you change hardware? You’re always forced to buy more than you expected.

I’m getting used to the new laptop but one major problem is I can’t seem to connect it to the HP printer. This is why I dislike new technologies. There’s always something that doesn’t work right. I’m not a happy camper.

Spring Is in the Air: Take heart all who have had enough of winter. The first harbingers of spring have appeared. No, I am not referring to red-breasted robins. Rather, I have spotted and quickly disposed of two silver fish, no doubt on separate expeditionary missions for their subterranean colony. It is just a matter of time, and melting snow, before we see lawns again.

As for melting snow, it is dropping in chunks from our highest roof to the level below. 

In case you’re wondering, we still haven’t gone live with solar panel electricity. The city has approved the installation. We’re waiting for ConEd to sign off to flip the switch.

In case you’re further wondering, when it snows the panels get covered just like ordinary roof shingle. Light snow doesn’t impact production but heavy accumulations probably will. But snow clears away from the panels sooner and tends to clean the panels, making them more efficient. Also, snow on the ground reflects sunlight, giving them more solar exposure. 

Of course, that’s all conjecture and prayer. I can’t wait to go live and find out (though I’d be content to wait until next winter to test the snow thesis).

Blame Me for Saturday's Snow and Other Observations

Most of you in the Northeast are probably pretty tired of all the snow this season. I can’t say I’m happy about it but I have to reluctantly acknowledge some responsibility for this weekend’s dumping. You see, snow seems to fall wherever I am when I celebrate the anniversary of my bar mitzvah. 

Even before this February of perpetual snow I could have told you February 21 would be a snow day. February 21 commemorates the Jewish calendar date of my bar mitzvah 53 years ago. The Saturday in Brooklyn in 1962 that I became a man I awoke to snow, maybe three to six inches deep. When I decided to celebrate my bar mitzvah 30 years later in White Plains it snowed 20 inches. 

I had not planned to celebrate my bar mitzvah this year but my brother Bernie intervened. He turns 70 on Tuesday; late last year he decided to commemorate the 57th anniversary of his bar mitzvah on Saturday, February 21. Naturally, Gilda and I traveled down to his home in Rockville, MD, to share the moment, which you might recall from the second paragraph, was actually the true anniversary of my coming of age. Bernie’s real date is next Saturday, but as to why he chose to push up the celebration that’s a story for another time. 

Anyway, snow fell in the Northeast, a dusting in most places except six to 10 inches across the DC metro, where I was, effectively shutting down the region. For those who favor long-term planning for future years, keep in mind my bar mitzvah falls on the portion of the Torah reading titled Terumah (Exodus 25-27). 

Some observations that have been on my mind lately:

New York drivers are becoming more lawless and dangerous. Based on my six times a week drive to and from Manhattan I can report more motorists are going through red lights and more are making left turns from the right lane …

News stations were agog Sunday and Monday with reports the Islamic extremist  group Al Shabaab of Somalia is encouraging attacks on American shopping centers, particularly the Mall of America in Minnesota, similar to what its adherents did at an enclosed mall in Nairobi, Kenya, in 2013. 

Security, naturally, has been heightened, but I wonder if Al Shabaab will pick its targets based on the concealed weapons laws of each state? NRA members no doubt are locking and loading in anticipation of defending the homeland ...

The debate over gay marriage rights elicited a petition against homosexual unions by the Alabama Policy Institute, a group dedicated to “free markets, limited government and strong families,” and the Alabama Citizens Action Program, which promotes an “ethical, moral and responsible lifestyle based on biblical standards.” 

Biblical standards? Does that mean polygamy is okay? Or the public stoning of adulterers? Or arranged marriages only? Or not eating pork? 

Do those groups realize biblical standards often parallel sharia law? 

Snow Day Thoughts: LinkedIn, Water Pipelines, and Baseball Sans Derek Jeter

They’re coming out of the woodwork. Like characters from The Walking Dead, people I hadn’t heard from in years have been sending congratulations messages and asking to re-connect, all because I failed to update my LinkedIn profile. So, they all think I am celebrating my third year anniversary at Green Retail Decisions as director of industry relations when in truth I stopped consulting for them last summer. Still, it’s nice to know some people still care enough about me to want to keep the relationship alive ... 

I cleared 11 inches of snow from the driveway and walkway around noon today. Thank god I bought that snowblower a few years ago. Waiting for the second round of snow from this storm …

Perhaps you’ve thought of this idea as well: If we have the capability to build the Keystone XL (crude oil) Pipeline from Canada to Nebraska, a distance of 1,179 miles, with the hope there won’t be any negative environmental impacts from leaks or spills, why can’t we build a water pipeline to take the inevitable runoff of spring flooding along the Mississippi River in Iowa and points south to the parched Texas landscape, a distance of about 1,000 miles? Or maybe divert flood waters from the Missouri River to Denver? Sure, each would be a massive project, but would provide jobs and much needed drought relief. Plus, we wouldn’t have a catastrophe if a few gallons of water leaked along the way. 

I just did a Google search and found several entries outlining the difficulties of advancing these projects, from structural, financial and, even more importantly, political perspectives.  We had massive public works projects during the Depression and the building of the interstate highway system beginning in the 1950s. But it is doubtful all the stars would line up to implement any such tasks in this day and age ...

O Captain! My Captain! I don’t mean to trivialize Walt Whitman’s tribute poem to the assassinated Abraham Lincoln, but one of the first thoughts I had upon hearing of Derek Jeter’s pending retirement from the NY Yankees at the conclusion of the 2014 season was the opening lines of the poet’s elegy:

O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;

The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;

Nobody can play forever. Jeter’s departure, along with that of Robinson Cano in free agency and the joint retirements of Mariano Rivera and Andy Pettitte in 2013, will leave no internally grown superstar among pinstriped players. What a pity. The long line of Yankee greats, that started with Gehrig and wound its way through DiMaggio, Berra, Mantle, Ford, Howard, Guidry, Munson, Mattingly, Posada, Pettitte, Rivera and Jeter appears to be, at best, in hiatus.

My hope, probably shared by anyone who has appreciated Jeter’s professionalism, is that injury will not mar his final trip around the basepaths of major league baseball. Let’s hope that just as Mariano enjoyed a splendid comeback year after his injury-shortened 2012 season, Jeter will play to the level of 2012 when he led the American League in hits with 216.   

Sales Promotions and Top Down Management

Did you hear about the Baltimore furniture store that gave away $600,000 in merchandise as part of a Super Bowl promotion that promised free goods if a Baltimore Raven returned a kickoff for a touchdown during the penultimate game? 

Anyone who bought furniture between January 31 and 3 pm game day last Sunday from any Gardiners Furniture store would have their money refunded. Gardiners had been running a Super Bowl kick return promotion for three years before Jacoby Jones ran 108 yards to pay dirt at the start of the second half of the game the Ravens won. Co-owner Gary Mullaney sponsored the promotion as part of a traffic-building scheme. Fortunately, for Gardiners, he also opted to insure his idea, just in case. The insurance policy cost $12,000 (http://www.baltimoresun.com/features/bs-ae-gardiners-follow-20130204,0,6257047.story). 

As I write this, it’s snowing outside, the early stage of a blizzard that will blanket the New York metro area as it makes its way up into New England. I’m reminded of a sales promotion tied to snowfall run by Potamkin Auto Centers Limited of Manhattan back in January 1996. Potamkin promised free leases to anyone who signed for a car between December 22 and January 2 if it snowed more than four inches in Central Park on January 8 between 10 am and 10 pm.

Sunday, January 7, it started snowing, and snowing and snowing. The biggest snowfall in 48 years. All told, 20.6 inches fell from Sunday through Monday. But Potamkin escaped unscathed, except for its insurance policy of $32,000, because the devil was in the details. During the 12 promotion hours, only 3.3 inches of snow fell (http://www.businessinsurance.com/article/19960114/ISSUE01/100011057). 

I was reminded of this brush with snow history because I recall being told the idea for the car lease promotion might have come from an ex-publisher colleague who was working for Potamkin at the time. I can’t verify if Arthur was indeed the originator of the plan, but it worked. Potamkin leased 104 cars during the contest period, worth nearly $1 million in rental fees.

Arthur died recently. I think he’d appreciate being remembered for his salesmanship, even if he wasn’t directly involved.

Top Down Management: With much fanfare one year ago J.C. Penney announced a new policy of everyday low prices. No more sales every week. Just everyday low prices. With little more than a whimper two weeks ago the company reversed course and conceded customers couldn't be enticed to shop its stores without the attraction of sales. So they're back.

This reversal of fortune is a slap in the face of CEO Ron Johnson, who came to Penney from a successful stint as head of Apple’s stores. Decisions by CEOs often run counter to expectations, but are made for personal as well as business reasons.

Sticking with Penney, some 25 years ago the company abandoned its New York headquarters in favor of Texas, because, it was rumored in the trade, its then chairman William R. Howell was interested in running for the U.S. Senate from his native state, Oklahoma. Never happened, to my knowledge, but he did commute by helicopter to the new corporate headquarters in Plano, outside Dallas. 

Target changed its check acceptance policy when its leader couldn’t pay for purchases to furnish a condominium he and his wife bought as a warm weather vacation retreat from Minneapolis’ brutal winters. When Bruce Allbright rolled his shopping cart full of household goods up to the checkout counter, the cashier told him corporate policy stated the maximum personal check she could accept was for $100. Though he complained it was an unrealistically low amount, she responded that even if he were the chairman of Target she could not violate company rules. She stood her ground even when he revealed himself as chairman of the chain. The next day Allbright amended company policy to accept checks up to $1,000. 

Most supermarket chains have one store that stands out from all others, in appearance and in the diversity and quality of its offerings. It usually is known as the chairman’s store, the one where he or his wife shops. So it was with the now defunct Colonial Stores of Atlanta.  

It happened some 30-plus years ago that in its effort to cut labor expenses Colonial’s management team decided meat no longer would be processed in-store. Whatever was shipped to the stores and arranged in the refrigerated bins was the only meat available. And so, the story goes, when the chairman’s wife went to her store to pick up some chop meat, and couldn’t find any, she was stymied in her efforts to get the staff in the meat department to grind up some chuck. Against new corporate rules. 

She bought some prime beef, brought it home and cranked it through her hand grinder for a meat loaf. Her husband praised her cooking that evening, but swallowed harder when she explained what she had gone through and what she paid for the prime meat instead of the chuck she originally sought. Recognizing the inconvenience and the extra expense his customer would face, the chairman rescinded the meat department rules.

Current Events and Affairs

Land of the Pharaohs: It is a fascinating exercise watching the outpouring of emotions in Egypt. Some reporters and commentators have labeled the street protests as a “pro-democracy” movement.

Perhaps. But if history has taught us anything, it is with disappointingly few exceptions, mass rebellion against an authoritarian regime often leads to another repressive regime. It didn’t happen in the United States, though some newly liberated colonials wanted to anoint George Washington king. Thankfully, he declined, as well as deciding two terms were more than enough as president.

But Mexico, for years, replaced one dictator with another. Tsarist Russia is Exhibit A of what might happen when a leader is overthrown, ostensibly to hand power over to “the people.” Let’s count China and Cuba as Exhibits B and C. Going further down the alphabet we have Iran as Exhibit D, Pakistan as Exhibit E, and far too many African examples to know what letter at which to conclude.

The point is, I’d take my time before awarding the Egyptian insurgency the democratic seal of approval. Let’s hope when all the sand settles, there is more freedom for all, more tolerance of all religions, continued peace with its neighbors, especially Israel, no damage to any of the nation’s national treasures, and more economic opportunity for all.


More Powder: With a forecast of anywhere from 4 inches to 14 inches of additional snow in our area over the next two days, I did more strenuous snow removal today than during last week’s storm. I raked snow from a good portion of our roof.

Last week I had seen a report on the CBS Early Show about roof rakes and their usefulness in reducing the hazard of a cave-in from the weight of accumulated snow (long-time readers might remember my top floor apartment roof collapsed after a brutal snowstorm during my graduate school year in Syracuse, so I’m naturally cautious). Problem was no store had any roof rakes for sale, though the House Center True Value Hardware store in White Plains expected a shipment Monday morning. I waited till 9:30 to call and was lucky to snag the last one.

It is not easy work, made all the more arduous and perilous (to the windows below the roof line) by the need to stand in more than 3 feet of snow in my yard.

The snow has made the bird feeders a prime eating spot for a rich assortment of birds, and my kitchen window a prime bird watching venue. Bright crimson cardinals, six at a time. Blue Jays. Downy woodpeckers. Red-bellied woodpeckers. Nuthatches. Goldfinches. They’re pecking away at the seeds and suet hanging from the pine trees.

The squirrels are mostly content to scavenge the seeds that drop to the ground, though one reddish grey rodent has displayed more aggressive, intelligent behavior. He keeps climbing down the chains suspending the feeders, thwarted in the end by the squirrel baffles I’ve installed. Installed everywhere but on top of the suet cages. He’s discovered that unprotected bonanza and has enjoyed an uninterrupted banquet. Tomorrow he’ll discover I’ve hung a new baffle above the suet cage. No more free lunches for him.


Tripping Along: Did you hear about the alleged sex scandal involving Todd Palin and massage therapist/prostitute Shailey Tripp?

I’d rather not comment on the veracity of the claims by The National Enquirer, though the tabloid rag has some street cred given its exposure of John Edwards and Tiger Woods. But anyone who’s seen Shailey Tripp’s picture would find it pretty hard to believe Todd strayed from Sarah for Shailey.

I’m more interested in the delicious irony of Shailey’s last name. Tripp, you might recall, is the first name of Todd’s out of wedlock grandson by daughter Bristol and Levi Johnston.

Tripp. Now, where else have I heard that name linked to a sex scandal? Oh, yeah. Linda Tripp, the alleged friend of Monica Lewinsky. Linda Tripp, a key figure in the sex scandal that almost brought down Bill Clinton’s presidency.

First name. Last name. There’s no escaping the fact, Tripp is having one helluva ride for a name.

Snow Day, Once Again

Gilda went off to work this morning. Nothing unusual about that, except this is the morning after the post-Christmas blizzard of 2010.

As much as I tried to convince her to take a snow day, Gilda was determined to get to work. Though none of the spine surgeons would be in the office because they were on vacation, three patients were expected to show up to see her, come hell or high snow. She felt obligated to be there for them. Moreover, she couldn’t call the other nurse practitioner who lives in Manhattan to cover for her as he, too, was on vacation.

Metro North was operating on a Sunday schedule, which meant only one train per hour. To get to the train station, she gave herself a few extra minutes to navigate the streets in her Jeep (and to mush through the 11 inches of snow on our driveway which I had not yet cleared). Metro North fulfilled its obligation, bringing her to Grand Central Terminal where she boarded the subway down to Union Square, arriving on time, but a few minutes after her 9 am appointment, a woman from New Jersey, who called our home from Gilda’s office to find out if she indeed was coming in.

Those two women are really dedicated. As were the two other patients who showed for their appointments. Gilda was right to go to work. Now the only dilemma she faces is how to get home. As she was walking through Grand Central this morning Metro North announced suspension of all further service because of switch-related problems. She hopes they will be resolved before her work day ends (still no service at 1 pm), or she’ll have to spend the night at Ellie’s apartment in Brooklyn.

No matter how conscientious you are, snow always seems to have the upper hand. As I wrote last February, when I worked in the city, I had a deserved reputation for taking snow days at the drop of a snow flake. It came from my double experience in the winter of 1978.

In January, after a 20-inch snowstorm, I trudged to the train station from our apartment in downtown White Plains in plenty time for my normal 8:18 am transport. The train arrived on time. I sat down for the usual 35 minute commute. Four hours later, the train pooped out in the tunnel beneath Park Avenue. Snow had fallen through the grates, blocking all trains from entering Grand Central Terminal.

We couldn’t move forward or back up. Metro North decided our only exit was vertical. All on board had to carefully climb down onto the tracks and ascend one of the emergency staircases, taking us up to Park Avenue and 72nd Street. From there I walked 15 blocks to my office at 425 Park Avenue. When I got there I discovered the office was closed. After a few minutes to thaw out, I was back on the street, slogging my way down to Grand Central, 13 blocks to the south, all the way hoping there would be a train back to White Plains.

I was lucky. Double lucky. A train was set to depart momentarily, and I had secured a seat. Four hours later it pulled into White Plains. I had spent more than nine hours commuting in the snow. I vowed to be more circumspect in future snowstorms.

I had my chance two weeks later when another 20-inch storm struck. This time I sought assurance our office would be open. I called our VP administration who, by coincidence, commuted on my same train each day. He daily drove down to White Plains from Ridgefield, Conn. If anyone would be a no-show, Mike surely would lead the pack. But his wife cheerfully reported Mike had set off for work. I reasoned I had better show up, as well.

Once again, I trudged down to the station. The 8:18 am train again arrived on time. I sat down. Once again, the trip south took four hours. This time, though, it made it all the way into Grand Central. I engaged a pay telephone (this was pre-cell phone days), called the office and discovered it was, once again, closed!

Once again, I was lucky. Double lucky. A train was set to depart momentarily, and I had secured a seat. Once again, four hours later it pulled into White Plains. Once again, I had spent more than a full work day commuting in the snow. This time, I came to the realization that snow was God’s way of telling me to slow down, that work could be done at home just as easily as in the office. I soon garnered my well-deserved reputation for taking a snow day for anything more than a dusting.