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Don't spill food on your genes [Aug. 5th, 2008|10:44 pm]
All this time I've spent living a few blocks from Oakland Chinatown, and I never passed by this place before (you have to take a little "homophonous liberty" to appreciate it, but I think it's just classic):


(Click on thumbnail for full-size image.)


Personally I would have gone with GATTACA Bistro or Double Helix Express, but that's just me...

(Plus, if you think about it, anything you eat really is made up partly of DNA, so this place isn't too far off... not the most appetizing realization, in any case.)
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Beware the food-stealing alien politicians! [Aug. 5th, 2008|04:45 pm]
"Don't Let Sacramento Politicians Remove Products From Your Grocery Bag"

Thus blared the headline on the front of the mailing I received a few days ago from BPAfacts.org. Behind the text was a grocery bag, full of leafy greens, radishes, cans, and other most assuredly wholesome items. And before I even got to the text of the mailing, out the window went any shred of credibility it might have had otherwise. (In this case, the text is even worse.)

It's yet another flavor of that all-too-common political tactic we know as "fearmongering": drumming up support for a cause by appealing to unrelated "everyday values," thereby creating a straw-man argument that no decent person would oppose.

This particular mailing is about BPA, a substance which has been making news lately. Apparently, research has uncovered potential health risks, and certain heavily affected companies (like Nalgene) have had to do an abrupt about-face and reengineer their plastics. And the California legislature -- you know, made up of those dastardly "Sacramento Politicians" -- is considering a ban on the substance.

But this group -- BPAfacts.org (a "project of the American Chemistry Council") is desperately trying to prevent said ban. Why they really want to stop the ban isn't entirely clear, because the mailing doesn't even touch that subject, instead relying on sentimentality-laden distractors intended to terrify people into thinking "Sacramento Politicians" want them to starve. Although I'm guessing, you know, just a random hunch, that maybe it has something to do with money, and that the poor, beleaguered chemistry industry doesn't want to get its delicate little bottom line pinched by having to depart from a potentially harmful status quo.

If you continue to follow the geneology from BPAfacts.org, you'll see that the American Chemistry Council "represents the leading companies engaged in the business of chemistry." Surprise surprise. And if there's one thing I've learned from watching the ongoing battle between business and social interests, it's that when a corporate consortium opposes a piece of legislation, that piece of legislation is probably on the right track.

I honestly don't know the real deal about BPA. There does seem to be conflicting research, and maybe a ban is a premature knee-jerk reaction. After all, just as corporations are liable to oppose progressive legislation, governments frequently overreact in order to appease an upset constituency in the wake of some unfortunate event. (Sarbanes-Oxley, anybody?)

But that's not the point. While I would warmly welcome an open, honest debate about the BPA issue, the tactic used by this consortium is misleading, manipulative, and downright dishonest. And it also has serious social consequences. The same approach was used to sell the Iraq war, and it's used all the time by right-wing religious groups to bring conservative voters out to vote against gay marriage and other aspects of civil equality. It's used, obviously, because it works, but that doesn't make it right.

I wrote about this same subject on Marth 15th, 2006: http://nightvzn.livejournal.com/15792.html

I've always been amused about the whole sneering-tone "Sacramento" thing. You see it all the time (and with other capitals as well), whenever some political action group wants to denounce some legislative initiative. I know what it means -- ivory-tower, out-of-touch, blah blah blah, but it's overused to the point that it sounds comical. And you almost have to feel bad for Sacramento. First of all, you get certain faux-cosmopolitan Bay Areans denouncing it as some Central Valley cow town, when in fact it's a big city in its own right; and now we talk about our lawmakers in Sacramento like they're convening on another planet, a planet where little green men get some perverse pleasure out of making Californians miserable.

Hmm, I wonder how these campaigns are modified for the Sacramento market. It would be deliciously ironic for somebody living in Sacramento to get a mailing playing off implications about how out-of-touch the people in Sacramento are.



And now, I will include the text of the mailing -- with my annotations added in parentheses and italics -- for my own amusement.

[FRONT COVER]

Don't Let Sacramento Politicians Remove Products From Your Grocery Bag (Yes, one has to watch out for that sort of thing -- stealing people's food makes politicians very popular around election time.)

[INSIDE LEFT]

Banning Materials That Keep Our Food Fresh And Safe Is A Terrible Idea (Of course it would be! But that's not the point. If BPA is harmful, science will just have to come up with alternatives. Nalgene, for one, is already on the job with their water bottles.)

Soon, many common, everyday products could disappear from grocery store shelves all across California. (Be afraid ... be very afraid.)

WHY?

In Sacramento (here we go again), politicians (remember, they're not human) are considering a ban of BPA -- a material that's been safely used for 50 years in food packaging and a wide variety of plastic products like reusable water and baby bottles. (Yes, and how many decades were cigarettes on the market before we began to realize how truly harmful they were? Could it be that we're just becoming aware of the dangers of BPA, and that it's the magic-bullet explanation for many widespread health problems over the years? It may not be, but just because it's been in use for 50 years doesn't mean we should discount the possibility of it being harmful.)

And rigorous scientific reviews in the United States, Europe and Japan have all concluded that these products are safe for use. (Yes, and certainly, research has never been slanted, rigged, or spun in support of a corporation's interests... And even if there is legitimate research in favor of BPA's safety, it's at odds with other research, so there needs to be independent review and reconciliation.)

A ban on BPA-based protective coatings used in canned foods and beverages to keep them fresh and safe could threaten the safety of our food -- by increasing the risk of spoilage and contamination. (I have a better idea: how about we develop a replacement for BPA, and then we can have our unspoiled cake and eat it too! At least until that replacement is found to be toxic as well, but hey, we've got another 50 years before we have to worry about that...)

Maybe that's why no other state in the country bans BPA. (Nobody wants to be the first to get in the lifeboats, so let's all go down with the ship.)

[INSIDE RIGHT]

Busy working families depend on convenient, safe and affordable food packaging and containers to put nutritious meals on the table. (Oh no! Traditional values are under attack again! Mobilize the troops!)

At a time of rising food prices, limiting consumer choice is unfair and unnecessary. (Yes, that would be problematic, but this assertion is made without evidence that banning BPA would actually have such an effect. It's just a red-herring appeal to emotion.)

Call your state legislators today! Tell them to vote NO on SB1713. (I.e. "in case our campaign contributions and lobbying aren't enough, help us do our dirty work.")

[BACK COVER]

...

Paid for by BPAfacts.org (There you have it.)
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"Green" construction in Alameda County [Aug. 5th, 2008|03:01 pm]
Last week, I attended a panel hosted by Congresswoman Barbara Lee and a number of local leaders and elected officials. The subject was the emerging "green economy." Although it was supposed to be a "green jobs panel," followed by a job fair, it didn't prove very useful to me personally in that regard; but I feel it was still time well spent for me to hear directly from these influential figures about such a critical current issue.

One of the speakers was Carolyn Bloede, who is involved with sustainability management for Alameda County (I don't recall her exact title). She was the only panelist to deliver a slideshow, and she took the opportunity to showcase some recent efforts to make County buildings more energy-efficient and altogether environmentally friendly.

Which got me thinking: if the County is taking these steps to "green" construction, who's watching over the corporate property owners (such as apartment management companies)? There is huge potential for saving energy by exercising a little foresight in the construction of new buildings, and it's simple: add insulation. Use efficient heating and cooling technology. Maybe take it a step further and install some solar panels (goodness knows we get enough sunlight here in California). Feeling truly ambitious? Use ground-source heating and cooling.

But, by and large, it seems companies cut corners and build as cheaply as they possibly can, in spite of whatever large costs (environmental or otherwise) are incurred down the road. And since energy costs get passed along to tenants (in the case of residential construction and leased office spaces, anyway), there is no bottom-line incentive for builders and owners to think green. Clearly, this is one area where the corporations aren't going to get off their arses and act responsibly until government forces them to.

After her presentation, Carolyn provided her e-mail address and invited attendees to contact her. So, I did. I have yet to receive a response (it's only been a few days), but if I do, I will post an update.

Hi Carolyn,

I attended Monday morning's panel discussion at BCC. It was an informative, inspiring session; and even though it didn't turn out to be of particular use to me as a "job fair," I enjoyed hearing from Rep. Lee, and various other local officials and leaders including yourself, about current efforts towards environmental sustainability.

So, thank you for your part in that presentation, and for providing your e-mail address. As it turns out, there is an aspect of this topic I've been meaning to find out more about, and I was hoping you could give some pointers or refer me to other sources.

As I recall, you spent some time discussing recent improvements in energy efficiency in county buildings, so I'm wondering what kinds of guidelines corporations are obligated to follow with privately-owned buildings.

I've been a resident of Alameda County twice -- first when I moved to California 5 years ago, and now again for the past year. I'm living in an apartment complex in the Jack London Square area of Oakland, and it's pretty new (less than a decade old). But it's rather apparent that the designers cut every corner imaginable in an effort to build cheaply, and this is particularly evident in the case of energy efficiency.

These new buildings are drafty. There seems to be zero insulation. How can a building built in the 21st century be conceived in a manner so blind to these concerns?

More broadly, what I'm curious about is the kind of restrictions and guidelines architects and construction companies are forced to conform to when building new structures in the east bay these days. We all know corporations tend to be cheap and greedy when possible, and it often takes government oversight to ensure progress. What is Alameda County doing (or able to do) to leverage corporations to "do the right thing," environmentally speaking? Are there tighter regulations on the horizon? Is this something within the county's jurisdiction? Or is this more of a City of Oakland issue, or maybe a State of California one?

To be clear, I'm not looking to pursue any particular action against the property management company. I'm just a concerned citizen who has become aware of an apparent major loophole for energy-inefficient design in new construction. And in this day and age, there's no room for that.


I hope this is relevant to your position and that I'm not wasting your time.


Thanks,
Mike
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Tropicana/Target/Lucky revisited [Aug. 5th, 2008|12:37 am]
A few weeks ago, I wrote about an unpleasant discovery I had made in some grocery stores: Tropicana had long been touting a redesign of their standard 96-ounce pitcher, and that redesign finally arrived a few months ago. What they didn't tell us was that in the process of redesigning it, they also reduced the volume (to 89 ounces). Of course, retailers continued selling them for the same price as the old 96-ounce containers, but worse, their shelf labels still claimed a volume of 96 ounces. I saw this at both Target and Lucky in multiple locations. It was unclear whether the retailers were being greedy or simply careless, but either way, I felt Tropicana's role was unequivocally deceptive.

As promised, I'm posting an update following my attempts to contact those companies. By the way, I'm know this might seem like minutiae to some. I mean, what's 6 ounces of orange juice in the grand scheme of things? Certainly, we all have bigger things to worry about (gas prices, anybody?). So what's the big deal here?

It might sound like a cliche, but, "it's the principle that matters." I don't care how big or small the issue is; if a company (or any entity or individual in a position of power or influence) does something misleading or dishonest, there needs to be awareness and discussion. We cannot set a precedent for allowing ourselves to be duped or gouged without consequences. Now, I'm not going to spend all my time going around hunting for inconsistencies and inequities, shouting a triumphant "ah-HAH!" whenever I discover that 1 in every 150 spools of chartreuse yarn is 1 centimeter shorter than claimed by the packaging. I mean, you get the idea. But when something jumps out at me ... when I notice a tricky little sleight-of-hand that many consumers are likely to miss ... I'm going to say something (and, if possible, do something) about it.

Anyway, back to Tropicana/Target/Lucky.

I attempted to contact all three companies through their online feedback forms. In the case of Lucky, I went through www.albertsons.com under the mistaken impression that Albertsons is still affiliated with Lucky, and a reply instructed me to call a toll-free number instead because Lucky's parent company doesn't have a functioning web form yet. In any case, the Lucky representative noted my concerns and assured me they would look into it.

Target was the first to respond. Within a day or two, somebody from their Guest Relations department left me a voicemail, with a case number, cordially inviting me to call back and discuss the issue, which I did. The staff were very friendly and responsive, and they promised to contact the merchandising team (although the rep I spoke to also took advantage of the opportunity to invite me to try buying some Target-brand grocery items next time I was in the store, but that's probably part of her job). And on my most recent trips to my two usual Targets, I noticed that the shelf labels actually had been updated. Unfortunately, the pricing is still the same, and many people still might not notice the volume reduction, but at least the information is now accurate and honest.

Which brings me to Tropicana. They were a little slower to respond (a week or so), but the response was thorough and surprisingly candid. I'll let them speak for themselves:

Mike:

Thanks for contacting us about our new SNAP Cap packaging and outdated shelf labels. We appreciate the opportunity to address your concerns.

Regarding the store shelf label, whenever any consumer package company launches a new product or package, a new code (black bar code on that you scan at the store) is issued to the retailer. The retailers in turn generate shelf tags with various information and sends these tags to their stores for shelf placement. Just as in every other occasion, Tropicana followed this process. We cannot explain why these stores still displayed an old label, but we can assure you that neither store would intentionally misrepresent the products they are selling. Because we have not received any other consumer calls or emails about shelf labels we believe these are isolated incidents. If you would be so kind to tell us the locations (city and street names) of the Target and Lucky stores where you shop we'd be happy to contact them and rectify the situation.

Regarding our packaging redesign, our decision to improve our bottle was not recent. Based upon feedback from families where children pour their own juice, we began working on this new package concept more than two years ago. The idea was to have an innovative cap that easily and securely sealed just by pressing on it, and one that easily poured without "glugging," the primary reason for spilling. The downsizing from 96 to 89 ounces wasn't a decision we took lightly. And, you are right, Mike -- skyrocketing prices are impacting both consumers and manufacturers. We had the choice to either increase prices or to downsize the bottle. We chose to downsize the bottle but felt the innovation of the SNAP cap and new bottle added a value which consumers were seeking.

Although you may not agree with our decision, we hope you can appreciate that they were made in the best interest of our consumers and shareholders. Please be assured that feedback from consumers, such as yourself, does influence decisions, and your comments have been shared with our marketing group.

Thanks again, Mike for bringing this matter to our attention. We hope to hear back from you so that the shelf label situation may be remedied.

[name deleted]
Tropicana Consumer Response


The highlights are the detailed explanation of how information is propagated to retailers, and the admission that the volume reduction effectively was a price increase necessitated by rising costs, as I had suspected. (Note the "best interest of our ... shareholders" part. Keyword: shareholders.) I am doubtful, however, that the erroneous shelf labels were isolated incidents, since I found them in 100% of my own "random sample," i.e., the stores I happened to visit -- and in multiple retailers, no less. Once again, it's probably just that (a) many people won't notice, and (b) many of those who do probably wouldn't bother to say anything.

I replied to Tropicana and thanked them, respectfully clarified that I'm not opposed to redesigns if they actually serve a legitimate purpose (I'm willing to believe this one does) and aren't just used to distract and deceive consumers (which this also does), provided them with the requested store information, and caveated it with the above rationale for why I believe it wasn't an isolated incident.

The following week, I got a piece of snailmail from Tropicana. It was a form card, thanking me for contacting them, and some coupons. The coupons are of questionable use to me -- each is good for one dollar off Dole beverages (and what does Dole have to do with Tropicana...?). But the card is great. On the back is a marketing graphic of their hot new product: the 89-ounce easy-pour pitcher! Yay...

I still don't like the situation. Sneakily reducing volume under the guise of a redesign is just wrong, even if there is a legitimate need to increase the price. And even though I noticed it, I still feel manipulated as a customer.

But I did speak up and compel these companies to account for themselves, and at least the shelf label problem has been fixed. It's a step in the right direction.
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Sick cyclist carousel [Jul. 25th, 2008|05:45 pm]
I had a near miss with a kamikaze cyclist recently, where his bike was the plane and my car was the naval vessel. I'd let the incident slip beneath the undulating waves of history, but I've realized it represents an epidemic of sorts that probably could use some more airtime. So here we go.

Now, let me preface this by saying that I am/was a cyclist myself. In my teen years, I did it for fun and exercise, and in my college years, I did it for transportation. Every day, uphill both ways, to and from class. You know the drill. And while I do have a bike now, I find it to be significantly less practical as a mode of transportation in a big place like the bay area than in a small city like Ithaca. Distances are greater, traffic is more homicidal, and if you lock up your bike to go inside somewhere, you have to use multiple locks made of NASA-grade materials, and detach and carry around just about every removable component of the bike, if you want to have a bike still when you emerge.

So I do have a bike now, but sadly, I almost never use it. But when I did bike regularly, I was pretty strict about following the standard rules of the road. Unless otherwise posted (on interstates and the like), a bike is to be treated (and operated) like any other vehicle on the road. This is elementary stuff, and everybody is being taught this from a young age these days. Yet so many people seem oblivious to this simple fact. To make matters worse, there is a certain long-entrenched mutual antagonism between cyclists and motorists to begin with, borne largely of the fact that neither respects the other out on the road. Both parties share the blame for this, but when you consider the implications of flesh & bone vs. two tons of metal, which party is going to pay the greater price for stupidity?

I currently live in what used to be Oakland's waterfront warehouse district, which it still is to some degree, so traffic is usually light. There is a four-way stop near my building, and I always see cyclists blowing past the stop signs like they're not even there. Now, granted, stopping and starting is a pain in the butt for cyclists, so I'm not going to fault them for making rolling stops if they can adequately gauge the safety of the situation before proceeding through the intersection. But I see cyclists blasting through the intersection all the time, without even slowing down, frequently flouting motorists' legitimate right-of-way. Cavalier and arrogant, they just assume people will (a) see them and (b) yield to them. I can think of a whole assortment of adjectives to attach to such behavior, but let me stick with one from each of two major categories: dumb and rude.

So it was only a matter of time before I came face-to-face with one of these presumptive Darwin Award nominees myself. In fact, it was a few weeks ago on the 4th of July, which apparently was Independence-From-Common-Sense Day, because in one trip, I had seen some of the worst driving imaginable. It was still too early in the day for drivers to be distracted by fireworks, so I'm not sure what was in the water that day, but I was definitely on high alert by the time I was almost back to my apartment.

As I arrived at the usual four-way stop, I saw a cyclist approaching from my right. Having watched the shenanigans at that intersection for so long, I knew, without a doubt, that he had no intention of stopping. But when it was my turn to go, I went anyway. Sure enough, a split second later, the cyclist barreled through the intersection on a collision course with my car. Now, having predicted his transgression, I had allowed for "wiggle room" in my trajectory. Exploiting my car's sharp reflexes, I swerved to the left but continued on my way as he panic-stopped in the middle of the intersection, leaving him plenty of room -- but probably scaring him half to death in the process which, frankly, I feel he needed.

Looking in my rear-view mirror, I caught the anticipated hypocritical follow-up, which consisted largely of angry gestures and yelling (something about "You almost killed me!" -- hyperbole, anybody?). I stopped at the entrance to my garage long enough to have a brief verbal exchange with the fool. I had to yell, but only because I was now almost a block away. Those who know me know that when I argue, I am a stickler for keeping things civil. I quickly summed things up with "Stop means stop" and parted ways with him, driving into the garage. I decided to move on and let the hypocrisy and irony sink in for him, rather than try to ram the notion down his throat.

Probably, there are those who would disagree with my approach of asserting my right-of-way even when I accurately predict that somebody is about to try to violate it. But I am not one to yield to inconsiderate people in some gesture of preemptive accommodation, because all that does is encourage and enable their behavior while allowing myself to be walked on. While I do believe in "choosing one's battles," I also believe in "asserting oneself," within reason.

While I don't necessarily agree with all laws, most of the laws governing how the road is to be shared by multiple vehicles exist for good reasons. I saw this cyclist and left padding in my maneuver, knowing that at worst, I might give him a much-needed scare; but if he keeps riding like this, someday somebody isn't going to see him in time, and he might really have something to complain about, assuming he survives to tell the tale.

As both a motorist and formerly avid (and possibly future) cyclist, I am embarrassed for cyclists like the one I ran into (no pun intended) who give us all a bad name among motorists. As it is, when I'm on a bike, I have this sense that motorists have been conditioned to expect the worst from me. On the plus side, I might have an opportunity to pleasantly surprise them, but it's never fun to start out on people's bad side before you even have a chance to prove yourself.

In any case, scofflaw cyclists are a serious problem. In this era of stratospheric fuel prices, off-the-charts carbon emissions, and an increasingly overweight, out-of-shape western world, it is imperative that bicycling be considered a viable alternative to driving when and where possible. But cyclists need to get their act together and respect the rules of the road if they want to be viewed as a compellingly mainstream bunch, and not as an inconsiderate, selfish, obliviously suicidal granola fringe not worthy of being taken seriously.
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Her name is Rio... [Jul. 21st, 2008|02:22 pm]
I had a little scare yesterday.

I went to Fremont to run the levee, and when I was getting ready to start, I turned on my MP3 player and noticed the usual problem: nothing but silence in the left headphone. But the usual remedy usually resolves the usual problem, so I tried wiggling and jiggling the connector to see if I could get at least a little static, which typically eventually resolves into fully functional stereo sound.

Why am I so patient with an aging, slightly ailing MP3 player? Because it's extremely good for what I use it for. It was my first MP3 player, or "portable media player," I should probably say. A Rio Forge, a direct descendent (I believe) of the original MP3 player brought to market by Diamond Multimedia back in the late 90s. Before the iPods and everything else. The Rio Forge was designed for athletes and works beautifully for its intended purpose, with a durable design and included armband with clip. Plus, the controls are a breeze to use when 95% of your attention is going towards running. The catch, of course, is that the Rio line is no longer available.

My Rio has been my faithful companion on treadmills and mountain trail excursions ever since I got it for Christmas in 2004. It's been up and down Mission Peak and Mount Diablo more times than I can count. Unfortunately, being my media player is a really tough life, entailing constant and repeated exposure to sweat, sunscreen, sweat, trail dust, and sweat. Did I mention sweat?

So I'm pretty amazed that the Rio has held up as long as it has. The chrome plating on the buttons has begun to wear off, the screws securing the faceplate have turned to rust, and the leather strap holding the clip to the armband broke (which my mom [[info]kyle_webb] was able to fix beautifully, seamstress extraordinaire that she is), but otherwise the Rio just keeps going. It started life with 256 MB of internal storage, but a cheap SD card bumped it to the 1.25-GB level, which is plenty for me. After all, only certain songs in my collection are suitable for exercise anyway.

But yesterday, despite all my efforts, I couldn't get even a hint of static in the left channel. I jiggled the connector, plugged and unplugged it, blew air violently into the headphone port, and even removed the battery in case the problem was some bizarre firmware bug. But, nothing. I eventually gave up and ran without music for the first time in a long time. At least I wasn't on the treadmill, so I had things to look at and a tangible goal in mind other than numbers on a cardio machine.

Well, today I wanted to explore this problem further before giving up on the Rio entirely. I was really unhappy with the idea of having to abandon it just because the left audio channel wasn't working, while the device was otherwise fine. I was prepared to even try taking it apart in case the connectors needed cleaning (and I have nothing to lose with a device this old), but for some reason, it's working fine now. Oh, but not before a bizarre series of diagnostic steps:

  1. I tried my usual headphones with the Rio again today to confirm the problem. Yep, still no left channel, just like yesterday.

  2. I tried the same headphones with another device but still had no left channel. "What? It's the headphones and not the Rio?" I was massively relieved at the idea that I needed only to replace my headphones...

  3. I tried another set of headphones with the Rio, and they worked fine! Yep, must have been the headphones.

  4. Oops! I realized I had plugged my potentially bad headphones into ancient computer speakers that also have left-channel problems. So instead, I plugged them into something else, and then they worked fine too. I was beginning to become horribly confused.

  5. So I tried the same usual headphones with the Rio again, and, well, the left channel worked...(!)


If, in fact, the definition of insanity is trying the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results, then not only am I insane, but I have also proven that insanity is a successful strategy. (In this case at least.) I have no idea why the thing is working now, but I'm not complaining, and I'm just hoping it holds up a while longer.


Now, it just so happens that I own two flash-based iPods. Both were gifts from previous employers, and I have never even removed them from their boxes. Accordingly, there have been those who have been unable to comprehend why I don't use them or sell them. It's simple: as long as I have them, I have backups for when my Rio finally does die (which is inevitably going to happen at some point). But ultimately, the Rio is a superior instrument for exercise, especially running; and there is absolutely no reason for me to abandon it in favor of flashier, trendier technology (requiring me to learn a new interface in the process) considering that I like it, it works, and it does the job.
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A "new brand" of deception from Tropicana, Target, Lucky, and possibly others [Jul. 13th, 2008|03:12 pm]
It seems Tropicana is trying to pull a fast one on its customer base, and it looks like some retailers are joining in the fun.

I generally buy Tropicana orange juice in whichever container size has the best unit price on any given day, in any given store; and although you might expect larger containers to have better unit prices, it actually varies. But most of the time, the 96-ounce pitcher was the best deal at the Hayward Target that I typically visit for groceries.

For a while earlier this year, those pitchers had an announcement splashed across the side, excitedly announcing the pending arrival of a new design. I didn't think about it much -- no new design really seemed necessary -- but then one day, a month or two ago, the new design finally showed up.

Subjectively I feel it's no better-looking or more convenient or usable than the old one, so I felt the change was a wash at best. But then I took a closer look, because something seemed just a bit off to me...

The "new design" of the old 96-ounce pitcher features an interesting little update you might not catch if you aren't reading the fine print: it's now 89 ounces rather than 96. Hmm.

I guess I'd be okay with a volume reduction if the price were reduced accordingly. Or if, at the very least, the parties involved made no effort to obscure the change. (Although moving away from a 96-ounce size does preclude mathematically simple price comparisons with other multiple-of-32 capacities like 64 and 128, so it's just annoying and inconvenient in general.) But that's just not the case here. Last I checked, both Target and Lucky are selling the redesigned pitchers for exactly the same prices as before (which, as I previously documented, already varies substantially between the two); and, in fact, the shelves are still tagged and labeled for the old 96-ounce containers.

This is misleading and careless at best. At worst, it's collusion against consumers on a variety of levels: a sneaky volume reduction of a tried-and-true product, trying to slip past unnoticed under the banner of a flashy new design ("wow!" ... "yay!"), marketed as a direct replacement for the aforementioned product, and stocked by retailers with absolutely no change in labeling or pricing.

And in case you were wondering, at the Hayward Target at least, this does make a difference. Previously, the 96-ounce pitchers had the best unit price by a small margin. Now, the 64-ounce cartons are a slightly better deal, if you do the math. (Thank goodness I carry a calculator around with me everywhere I go -- in the form of a cell phone, thank you very much.) If I hadn't been paying attention and noticed this, I'd be buying the wrong size and wasting my money. Ultimately, the unit price difference is trivial in this case, but that's not the point.

(This also reminds me of what disturbs me about a certain subset of the marketing world. In all too many cases, the trend seems to be toward reinventing products not because they actually need reinventing, but because "new and different" [i.e. "flashy and gimmicky"] is supposedly "better," regardless of the actual comparative merits. This mentality has been creeping into more and more industries, as "design" trumps functionality by ever-more-ridiculous degrees. I've gotten somewhat used to it with cars, TVs and other home electronics, computers, web sites, etc... but orange juice?!)

My personal crusade against unnecessary and indulgent trendiness-driven redesigns aside, this stunt by Tropicana (with help from at least some retailers) just stinks. And although I still buy Tropicana (for now), since it is my preferred kind of orange juice, I find it hard to justify sanctioning this kind of corporate behavior with my purchasing decisions.

If Tropicana wants to stick with this unnecessary redesign, fine, that's their choice. If they need to charge more because of rising manufacturing and distribution costs across the industry, we'll just have to deal. But I expect honest labeling and pricing, and the present situation is a problem. Even for something as mundane and everyday as orange juice, I find it difficult to respect manufacturers and retailers who operate this way.
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Sluggish lead [Jul. 13th, 2008|01:17 am]
Over the past month or so, I've accumulated a few new items I've been meaning to post here.




(Click on thumbnail for full-size image.)


This little gem came from, I believe, the Syracuse "International" (they fly to Canada) Airport. I got re-routed there last time I went home, back in early June, and this caught my eye on my way out of the terminal.

Okay, so it probably takes a warped sense of humor to see anything in this sign, but to me it's suggesting that men and telephones are a winning combination; but women and telephones, not so much...

(I know some people with teenage daughters who could attest to that.)




(No thumbnail needed. This is the full-size image.)


Anybody who has used any Norton anti-virus/security/etc. software in recent years -- or just about any other similar software on the market, sadly -- might find the subject line of this e-mail blast a little ironic. One glimpse and I'm envisioning the probable body of the e-mail: "Computer's not sluggish enough? Give us a call! We'll render it completely unusable!"




(Click on thumbnail for full-size image.)


Longtime readers of my LiveJournal may recall my proclivity for noticing and exploiting homophonous and homonymous elements of the language.

Well, I was perusing the UC Berkeley job listings again, and I encountered the posting above whose job title can be read two different ways: the way it's meant to be read ("LEED Painter"), and the way I read it ("LEDD Painter") which, naturally, were not the same.

"Lead painter." Hmm ... that would be great alongside "asbestos ceiling tiler."




(Click on thumbnail for full-size image.)


Nothing too glamorous here -- just a veritable typo scavenger hunt provided, for your entertainment, on this sign posted near a Home Depot bathroom sink. I think I counted three while I was washing my hands ("contactors" ... "personel" ... "immidiately").

It's interesting to note that as spell checkers become ever more ubiquitous and integrated into all manner of text-processing environments, the sloppiness just seems to increase...
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Police Activity, Part 1 [Jun. 28th, 2008|12:21 am]
I have been meaning to write about a few unusual things that happened in recent months, but somehow I put it off (imagine that!). And now, it's not exactly current anymore. But for anybody reading this, you can just pretend it happened yesterday, because the exact date isn't important. Here's the story of the first of two strange experiences involving the police.

Usually, if you're spending some time with the police, it's not good. Maybe you're reporting a theft, or you've done something morally bereft like drive 10 miles per hour over the speed limit (*cough*).

Well, the day when I was pulling into a shopping center parking lot in Emeryville with Peter a few months ago, and I saw an officer flagging us down, I mostly was wondering what the heck the problem was. But things quickly took an unexpected turn. We pulled over near him and rolled down the window, and he looked in and asked the following out-of-the-blue question:

"Excuse me. By any chance, do you speak Chinese?"


As it turns out, Peter actually speaks three languages that are considered dialects of Chinese: Mandarin, Cantonese, and Shanghaiese. So he replied affirmatively, and the officer asked if we could possibly stop and help them. It seemed they had picked up an elderly Chinese woman wandering on the highway (!), and they were having an awfully difficult time communicating with her.

We had nothing particularly critical on our agenda, so of course we agreed to help. I parked the car while Peter ran over to evaluate the situation. The woman was quite old, and although she was physically in great condition for her age, one couldn't say the same for her cognitive health (which is no surprise considering where the police found her). And actually, Peter was a lucky find for the police, because the woman spoke to him not in Mandarin or Cantonese (which seem overwhelmingly to be the most common among Chinese dialects), but rather in Shanghaiese, which, to my understanding, is relatively rare.

Once they got talking, it was clear that the woman was perfectly capable of communicating in her language of choice, but the content of her communication was a bit less useful. Pertinent bits of information such as her name, her address, and the names and contact information for immediate kin remained a mystery. From what Peter could ascertain, she lived nearby in Emeryville and had been out walking, and somehow she ended up on the highway. The officers and I just stood around, watching attentively, eagerly awaiting the outcome of the conversation.

By the way, when I say "wandering around on the highway," I'm talking about the Macarthur Maze. She had been wandering on foot around one of the busiest, most convoluted sets of interchanges in the bay area. Apparently some motorists had called in the situation, and the cops had had to drive around the maze until they found her. With the amount of traffic constantly coursing through the maze, that alone must have been quite a challenge.

Anyway, after Peter talked to the woman for a while and gathered as much information as he could, the officers decided to put Peter and the woman in one of their cars, and see if she could guide them to wherever she lived, with Peter serving as translator. Amusingly, probably due to some procedural regulation, an officer had to give Peter a pat-down before letting him in the car.

For whatever reason, it was decided that I'd follow in my car, and the second police car would complete the sandwich behind me. This must have created an interesting spectacle for passers-by to whom the details of the situation were unbeknownst. It must have looked like I was getting some kind of police escort, and given the somewhat "racy" look of my car, that probably raised a few eyebrows. It definitely was interesting for me when the cop in front of me made an illegal u-turn while trying to follow the woman's directions, and I found myself wondering exactly how I might best handle the dilemma that created for me.

Ultimately, it became clear that the woman had no idea where she was, and that trying to get her home by car was probably overwhelming her addled mind with rapidly-evolving overstimulation. Besides, she seemed to believe her home was very close by, so they decided to have her walk there, with me and Peter at her side, while the police followed -- in their cars. So picture this if you will: we're walking along on the sidewalk at a snail's pace (given the woman's age), with two CHP cars creeping along the side of the road behind us, through the streets of Emeryville, while countless cars drive by, their drivers probably confused beyond their wildest dreams. Wouldn't you be, if you saw an elderly woman and two twenty-somethings walking along slowly, with two CHP cars in not-so-hot pursuit?

It was an incredibly surreal situation, especially whenever the car behind me drove over some leaves on the shoulder of the road. I'd hear this mysterious rustling, then look behind me to see the car barely moving, or not moving at all. It reminded me of all those old cartoons where some inanimate object would be surreptitiously following a character, but every time (s)he would stop and look back suspiciously, the object would stop moving and innocently "act" like it had been there all along.

Unfortunately, it soon became clear -- when the woman tried to guide us up onto an off-limits-to-pedestrians over-railroad bridge -- that she still didn't know where she was going. So we all stopped in a parking lot to regroup once again.

Things weren't looking so great. Peter had been able to determine that the woman had family (her children?) in Oakland, but who they were and how the police might contact them remained locked within the inaccessible recesses of her mind. And even if we could get her home, it was very clear that the woman was in no condition to be left alone. Soon, they would have to give up and take her back to the station. But first, we made one last attempt to drive her home and have her navigate, although this time I left my car and I got to ride with one of the cops (who, strangely, did not feel the need to pat me down as he had done to Peter ... hmm ... wonder if somebody might have had a "fan"...).

We then went off on quite a ride that led us clear out of Emeryville and all the way into downtown Berkeley, by which point it was becoming clear that the woman was either one hell of a walker, or not even aware of which city she lived in. Since it was just one officer and me in the second car, we got to enjoy a fun conversation along the way, ranging in topic from his attempt at recruiting me for CHP employment, to him venting about the disdain for the CHP harbored by Berkeleyites. And all the way, I was thinking "This is probably the first time I've ever ridden in the back seat of a police car, and I didn't even do anything wrong!"

Somewhere along University Avenue in Berkeley, the officers decided they had to give up and take the woman to the station, where they'd have the tools to make more thorough attempts at communicating with her (and/or hope some as-yet-unidentified family member might notice her absence and call inquiring as to her whereabouts). I think they felt bad for detaining us for so long, although we honestly didn't mind. (I think I had to pee and was getting pretty hungry by then, but otherwise it was all good.) So they drove us allll the way back to my car in Emeryville, sharing a nice chat along the way. Upon parting ways, they took down Peter's number and promised to let us know how things went.

Later that night, Peter got the call. We're not sure how, but the police had somehow gotten in touch with the woman's family, and the crisis had been resolved. I only hope that if the family didn't realize how far gone their mother was before, they now understand that some serious help and supervision are needed to prevent something like this from happening to her again.

We thought the story was over, but one amusing little postscript came a few weeks later. We were driving through Oakland, headed back to Jack London Square, when we passed somebody who had been pulled over by CHP. I glanced out the window, jokingly wondering if it was one of "our" CHP officers ... and it was! It was the guy I'd ridden with during our final attempt at finding the woman's home. Whatever he was doing that day, we gathered, was a lot more routine and less exciting than what had happened the day we all met. But sometimes that's a good thing.

We still wonder what events and plans had preceded them flagging us down in the first place. Had that officer been standing there, stopping every passing car, looking for somebody who spoke Chinese? Had he flagged down only those cars containing Asian passengers? How long had he been waiting to find somebody who could help? No matter how you look at it, Peter was definitely a lucky find for them; and even though I didn't do much more than stand around watching, I was glad to have been part of what was at least a noble attempt at helping.
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"Floury" language for your dining and entertainment pleasure [Jun. 7th, 2008|12:12 am]
Yes, it's true -- I'm back with more pictures taken through the metaphorical lens of my everyday life (and more literally, through the lens of my cell phone camera). In all cases below, click on the thumbnails for full-size images.





Nothing too entertaining here, other than a rather glaring typo ("untill") on a large print ad for a TV show. You'll find this (possibly among other places) in a passageway to the parking structure at Bay Street in Emeryville. I just love when pop culture tries to be all smooth and cool, botches it up with such a mundane error, and then blows it up to billboard size for all to see.

Of course, we could be dealing with the vandalizing of farms. Maybe Gossip Girl tills her fields, and then those nasty boys come through and untill them. And then she talks about them behind their backs. Voila. A new TV Drama formulated for teen consumption is born. (For further reflection, consider how interesting it gets when Gossip Girl shops for gardening implements here.)





Two things regarding this recycling bin in the Emeryville Ikea:
  1. The, er, unorthodox spelling of the word "fluorescent."

  2. Look at what some probable Darwin Award nominees have actually been throwing into the bin. (In fact, there are far more incandescent bulbs in the bin than compact fluorescents.) But then again, can you blame people? Technically, the bin is labeled as intended for something that doesn't actually exist. Although, I am intrigued by the thought of lighting technology that relies on the glow emitted by charged flour particles. What else can we do with common organic substances? The answer to the energy crisis might be found right in your kitchen cabinets!






Here's a nice little excerpt from my credit card statement for all to enjoy. What's interesting to me is the category into which this purchase was somehow slotted. I will admit I've always gotten a kick out of going through automated car washes, so maybe the "entertainment" part applies. But as delicious and fruity as those tri-color polishes smell, I just can't see myself sitting down to a meal composed in part thereof.

It gives a whole new meaning to the expression "wash your mouth out with soap." Unless, of course, the carwash in question uses experimental biodegradable flour-based soap to cut down on waste water pollution. Just imagine the ad campaign: "Gives your car that showroom-quality flourescent shine..."
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Missed fortune [Jun. 5th, 2008|09:39 pm]
I've seen fortune cookies that dispense generic wisdom, compliment the eater on some admirable characteristic, recommend some new activity, etc. Most of these, if taken at face value, would imply some degree of otherworldy clairvoyance ... which I guess is the whole point behind the tongue-in-cheek mystique of fortune cookies. Still, though.

But I saw one this past week (courtesy of Panda Express) that raises the bar a few notches:

You will enjoy a trip to Asia.


This was news to me, as I have never traveled outside the North American continent and have no immediate plans to do so (although it would be nice to, someday). I guess I'd better hurry up and get a passport.

Okay, so maybe the cookie was being slightly metaphorical and suggesting I would have a blast on my next walk to the HSBC branch in Oakland Chinatown. Or ... wait, I've got it ... the cookie knew I went to see Asia (a band comprised, somewhat paradoxically, by four old white men) in concert last month! The cookie was just slightly off, temporally. But what do you expect from a lightly sweetened lump of dough?
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Fresh, very fresh [Jun. 3rd, 2008|07:13 pm]
I'm pretty sure I know what this Subway wrapper was supposed to say underneath the word "Subway" originally, but (if you can get past the marinara sauce) that sure as heck isn't what it says now:


(Click on thumbnail for full-size picture.)
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Say again? [May. 31st, 2008|04:26 am]
Me (while playing Monopoly): "... you can use your Get-Out-Of-Frail-Jee card!"
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For all your ... um ... never mind [May. 21st, 2008|02:01 pm]
It's been brought to my attention that I may have neglected to post my all-time best "sign with burnt out letter(s)" picture. I actually snapped this one almost a year and a half ago, yet for all this time, I have unintentionally withheld it from you, oh LiveJournal visitor.

With that in mind, I now correct my omission:


(Click on thumbnail for full-size image.)


For what it's worth, I was at McCarthy Ranch again the following night, and this sign had been fixed VERY quickly...
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False "profits" [May. 20th, 2008|01:40 am]
Tonight, I decided to leaf through the Primary Election info packet I received in the mail last week. I prefer not to cast a vote if I don't feel sufficiently knowledgeable about an issue, so I thought I'd see what was on the table. I mean, we learn all about our democracy in school, but opportunities to participate don't come along every day, so I try to give it a shot when I can summon the presence of mind.

You know how "The Simpsons" is famous for starting an episode with some random premise, and then going off on a tangent to flesh out the body of the plot with something almost completely unrelated? Well, that's where I am tonight. This isn't about democracy. This isn't about government. This is about corporate greed.

... Okay, so maybe I failed to draw much of a distinction there. Let me try again:

This isn't about the political process or the upcoming election. This is about rich people trying to preserve their "right" to become even richer, and using fancy wording to try to manipulate/mislead/warp public opinion in their favor.

What really set me off was Proposition 98 which, on its face, seeks to reform eminent domain (as does Proposition 99, but unlike 98, 99 has not drawn my ire as of yet). Now personally, I wasn't aware of any problems associated with eminent domain's use, but I'm always open to being educated about an issue with which I have limited familiarity. As I read further, however, I began to realize that a big part of the measure deals with eliminating rent control. And by the time I had read the Pro argument's supposed justification for this, I was ready to go to war. Allow me to share a relevant snippet of their wording:

"Proposition 98...prohibits forcing owners to rent their homes below fair market value."


If ever there was a case of a greedmongering capitalist wolf in crybaby kindergarten playground wah-wah-no-fair sheep's clothing, my friends, that was it.


During my college years, I was "lucky" enough to rent from landlords and agencies who seemed interested in providing housing for a reasonable return on their real estate investment, more than milking every last cent from a market artificially inflated by a subset of overly wealthy consumers. (I say "lucky" in quotes only because a few of those places were a bit ... interesting to live in, shall we say.)

But in California, I have mostly been a tenant of managed apartment complexes. Fortunately (in this case at least), I have bounced around from place to place so frequently in my 4.5 years here, I haven’t personally had to deal with inevitable lease-renewal rent increases as much as many people have (since loyalty at these places is rewarded with nothing more than increased rent). But I did get stung once, and very badly; and it was a large part of what precipitated my recent move back to Oakland. So I know what I’m talking about, both as an outside observer, and as a direct recipient of a steaming pile of bovine intestinal detritus.

I could go into a lot of gory, gratuitous detail, but I’ll save that for now. Let it suffice to say that there is nothing even remotely "fair" about the "market values" people are being charged out here these days (and in a lot of other highly developed areas as well, but we all know the SF area is one of the worst when it comes to housing costs).

I’m no economist, but it doesn’t take Alan Greenspan1 to see that these so-called "fair market values" are nothing more than blatant gouging, with prices artificially inflated by the presence of a relatively large proportion of extremely well-paid professionals who are willing to part with the cash these places are asking, in between their "I feel like eating cheap today" $20 budget lunches and monthly home theater system replacements. Such cases of spontaneous (and often young) wealth are what these property management people drool over.

The fact that these "fair market values" are completely out of touch and out of step with inflation, typical annual income increases, and any other reasonable measure of reality does not concern these people. The fact that anybody who doesn’t manage to hitch a ride on the wave of overpaid prosperity -- even degreed professionals with respectable incomes in "moderate-paying" fields -- is left behind, out in the cold, unable to afford decent housing without making significant sacrifices/adjustments, does not concern these people. The fact that this particular manifestation of capitalist greed is one of the major driving forces behind the perpetual widening of the gap between rich and poor does not concern these people.

All that concerns them is the almighty dollar, and how many of them they have lying around with which to wipe their billionaire shareholders' overprivileged sense-of-entitlement posteriors at the end of the quarter.

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for people getting rich if things work out for them. Launch the latest hot social networking site and sell it to Google for $2 billion. Develop a new breed of sustainable yet practical energy production or transportation, and make a fortune selling countless tends of thousands of units. Land a recording contract and make it big. Win the lottery. Whatever. It's all good to me. But jacking prices up into the stratosphere for something as necessary and fundamental to survival as housing, all because you can get enough overpaid professionals to fill your building's units for the prices you’re asking, yet to hell with anybody who fell through the cracks in the great patio of wealth? Don't come to me with that attitude and expect me to acknowledge you as anything other than a regrettable blight on the face of civilized society. It’s classism at its worst, making a pathetic attempt at parading under some kind of "free market" banner. Let us all bow and worship the golden calf. Feel free to kneel upon the mangled remains of equality of opportunity if reality proves too uncomfortable for your fragile little illusion to rest its tired self upon.

As regrettable as it is, classism is a somewhat unavoidable consequence of capitalism. I believe government exists, among other purposes, to keep such inequities in check. The moment you begin disemboweling and castrating government's ability to perform this crucial function, you cross the line from classism to fascism. And there’s not much room for democracy in a fascist state, beyond a purely decorative role. Let’s not completely shatter my ... delusion? ... that we’re not quite there yet, okay? Please? Save that for next time at least.

Rent control exists for a reason. Many reasons, I’m sure. One reason is to serve as the consciences that landlords/rental agencies/corporations (especially the latter) often fail to have, and to ensure that responsible, hard-working people who don’t happen to be rich are still able to afford a decent place to live, without worrying about the degree to which their annual raise is going to be completely overshadowed by next year’s rent hike. Rent control rewards loyalty. It levels the playing field. It gives people a fair shot. And if it happens to shatter a rental agency’s dreams of gouging and profiteering, I don’t care. I think it’s a travesty that more municipalities don’t have rent control, especially in a place like the bay area. And now some of society’s white-collar aphids2 are crying about what little there is3, and trying to do away with it? It’s hard to imagine a more absurd rationale.

If you want to reform eminent domain and you wish to explain your cause with substantive arguments, be my guest. I’m all ears. But don’t masquerade as a crusader for freedom, hoping deceptive-yet-flowery language is going to somehow distract me from your transparent attempt at justifying institutionalized greed. I see it for what it is, and I am not going to be fooled.




  1. When I wrote this part, I quickly Googled "Alan Greenspan" to check on a few tidbits, and I initially mistyped his name as "Greedspan." Please note that I have NO hidden Freudian agenda in mentioning this. I just thought it was funny as hell.


  2. As irrestible as it may seem, my "aphids" reference was actually not a thinly veiled derogatory metaphor comparing greedy corporate types to lowly insects. Aphids have a pretty easy existence, as life in the wild goes. They are "farmed" by ants who want nothing more than the sugary by-product of their metabolic processes, and the ants protect them fiercely. So basically, all an aphid has to do to survive is eat and eliminate, aphid-style, while being protected by ants who are pretty much literally kissing its ass. (Okay, so maybe that was a metaphorical comparison with a certain degree of derogatory intent -- just with a bit more depth and thought behind it than it may have seemed on the surface.)


  3. For anybody who doesn't know: even with rent control, rental agencies are still granted considerable latitude (in my opinion, far too much) to gouge and artificially inflate prices. A friend was living in a shoddy building (basically trying to market as "quaint" and "vintage" what was actually just old and run-down) at Northpoint Apartments in San Francisco, where he was already being charged something outrageous on the order of $1600 per month for a one-bedroom apartment when he moved in several years ago. Thanks to rent control, although his rent increased each year, it did so at a fairly reasonable rate. But in the case of new tenants, the owners are perfectly free to charge whatever "fair market value" they desire. Last I heard, this was in the vicinity of at least $2200 for that same one-bedroom. Enough said.
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Today's take-home message [May. 19th, 2008|01:10 pm]
I got the most random error message from Yahoo! Messenger last night. I have no idea what prompted it, since I wasn't even using it at the time (other than just sitting online in the background). So it was completely out of the blue, but it was also pretty funny because it sounded more like a fortune cookie/"message from above"/profound psychophilosophical axiom:



(I'm not going to bother thumbnailing this one since it's so small to begin with.)

Just to be clear, my computer apparently does have my best interests in mind.
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Bird brain [May. 18th, 2008|01:05 am]
While wandering around the Fremont Lowe's tonight (while my companions examined, compared, and discussed the merits of various grills they had no serious intention of buying), I noticed a few random birds flying around the store. Being the sort who finds certain out-of-context wildlife (particularly birds) strangely amusing, I had to follow along and see what they were up to.

When I caught up with the three out-of-place featherballs, well, let's just say I shouldn't have been nearly as surprised as I was:


(Click on thumbnails for full-size images.)


The birds had found their way to the aisle where the bird feeders are kept! In fact, the above-pictured little darling was hopping around on top of them...

One could chalk it up to either an incredible coincidence, or an amazing example of the power of human activity to inadvertently train wild populations. It seems to me these birds, somehow noticing they were out of their element, found and clung to the only bit of familiarity they could find: bird feeders, surely imprinted in a bird's simplistic little consciousness by the countless examples deployed in suburban and residential back yards.

Too bad these particular bird feeders contained no seeds. It must have added to the poor creatures' confusion. But despite their -- dare I say it, "stupidity" -- in getting stuck inside large buildings by accidentally flying in the door, and then obeying instincts that unilaterally bind them to the idea that flying upwards brings freedom, these birds demonstrated remarkable resourcefulness and adaptability in seeking out familiar enviromental cues.


P.S.: I do hope the birds eventually found their way out of the store. I didn't get a chance to see. When I got a little too close to them, they did what birds tend to do: make funny noises and fly away.
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UC Berzerkeley [May. 16th, 2008|03:31 pm]
On the subject of "Wow, somebody should hire me as a copyeditor/proofreader" (with just a bit more than the usual hint of irony)...


(Click on thumbnail for full-size image.)


Take a veeeeery close look at the salary range indicated for this job. Somebody needs to take a key repeat chill pill. Either that, or damn, I'd feel pretty shafted if I was a candidate for this position and I got an offer towards the low end of this particular scale!

Oh, and I don't know what's better -- the mistake, or the apparent "demonic influence" behind it. Take a look.
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Apprehending assumptions run amok [May. 9th, 2008|11:05 pm]
Anytime you deviate from the norm, you risk engendering misunderstanding and misconceptions at the mercy of the assumptions people use to comprehend familiar environmental input. I realize I've dealt with a lot of these, and some are very frequent "customers." I've decided to consolidate a few of the best ones here.

And now, somewhat in the style of The Far Side:

    • What I say: "I'm from New York."

    • What people hear: "I'm from New York City."

    • What they think: "I'm a hardened street thug from one of the boroughs of NYC -- The City, and the ONLY city worth being called 'The City.' Don't mess with me or I'll pump you full o' lead like any northeasterner would. Oh, and I also twawk funny."

    • What I say: "Actually, I'm from a small city."

    • What people hear: "I'm from the suburbs."

    • What they think: "I'm from the sprawling land of cul-de-sacs, white picket fences, perfectly manicured lawns, and anal-retentive housing assocation housewives/househusbands/PTA crusaders driving minivans to and from soccer practice with their 2.5 children having a food fight in the back seat and getting slushies all over the dog."


      • - or -

    • What I say: "Actually, I'm from a small city."

    • What people hear: "I'm from out in the country. Small-town rural America, baby."

    • What they think: "Ah'm from out in the middle of the country. I's a small town boy, ok y'all? And what's this four-wheelie thingamajig y'all drive around? My cousin/brother/dad/nephew Billy Bob Joe had one o' those but it was pulled by them thar hawses."

    • What I say: "My degree is in Communication."

    • What people hear: "My degree is in Communications." (Ask me sometime if you're really curious, and I'll explain the difference.)

    • What they think: "I'm a hands-on media nut working in journalism, broadcasting, or visual production."

    • What I say: "I drive a Subaru."

    • What people hear: "I drive a Subaru Outback wagon."

    • What people think: "I drive a rusty old Subaru Outback wagon, completely splattered with mud, fitted with a roof rack holding (at any given time) some combination of bikes, a canoe, and all manner of camping gear, and with a few lesbians in the back seat sporting tie-dye, hemp, and Birkenstocks."

    • What I say: "I like some bands that would be classified as gothic metal, progressive metal, melodic metal, and/or symphonic metal."

    • What people hear: "I like heavy metal and death metal."

    • What people think: "I regularly head-bang to screaming, shrieking, cacophonous, eardrum-Cuisine-Art-ing death metal. My oath of allegiance to Satan and all his unholy minions is reaffirmed daily, if not hourly. Now, get out of my way; I have been given new orders, and it is unwise to keep Him waiting. Bark bark bark, all night long."


I'll update this list if I think of new examples. I had enough fun with this one for now.
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Self-loathing [May. 9th, 2008|03:28 pm]
Is it just me, or is the FBI anti-piracy notice that displays at the beginning of the "Pirates of the Caribbean" DVDs just a touch ironic in that context?
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