Footsteps and Memories

Recently I was honored when a friend asked if he could excerpt the eulogy I wrote for my father in a service for his. With this weekend marking the 11th anniversary of my dad Hal's passing, I thought I would share it again. Thanks for indulging me.  

My father has died and I couldn't be happier. 

I know what that must sound like: that I'm cold and cruel and heartless. The truth is that I'm heartbroken. His passing has robbed my mother of a companion, one with whom she would have celebrated 55 years of marriage this June. It takes from my sister and me and our families a parent and grandparent, one of whom we were proud and who was proud of us. And it takes from the world a kind and generous soul, a commodity of which there is too small a supply.

But since he was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease 10 years ago, and especially over the last 3 years as he has spiraled ever downward, it has been tough to watch the man I called Dad disappear before my eyes. My mom did more than any person could ever be expected to do to make him whole, tending to his every need even as he withdrew further and further from her and from the rest of us. Each time that we gathered as a group to laugh and talk and catch up, it was obvious that he was moving more and more into his own private world.

One emergency led to another, with only one eventual end in sight. And so hard as it was, we took this latest crisis was a sign that the time had come to admit that no one... not him, not her, not us... was being served by the best efforts that she and modern medicine could offer. There's an old proverb that if you love something you set it free. If it's yours, it will come back. If not, it was never yours to begin with. With my dad I respectfully disagree: we set him free precisely because he was ours and we loved him, and he left for the very same reasons.

I have tried to think of one single event, one seminal moment that defined him and who he was. But all that comes to me is a random series of images and stories. There was the time as little kids when we lived on a big hill and sledded to the bottom laying on his back. The time he came home from work carrying a small stray dog who we quickly adopted and named "Pomy" after the name of the store in which he worked. The time when we visited the cliffs of New Mexico, and watched him sweat bullets from the hair raising drive up to the top, so much so that we had to have a park ranger drive us back down. And the time that my mother came home with a streak of blond frosted into her hair. My father walked in from work and growled. "What is that? How would you like it if I did that?" My sister replied without missing a beat, as only a 9 year-old smart-aleck can: "Dad, they would have to paint your forehead."

Rather, his life personified that old admonition when camping, "Leave only footsteps, take only memories." He touched the lives of many in a gentle way, from his years in Boy Scouts to his time with colleagues to his embracement of family and friends. He was always there to support and encourage my sister and me, or buy a small gift for my mother "just because." I can't think of anyone who met him and who didn't come away to say to me later, "Your dad? Salt of the earth." I finally looked up the textbook definition of that phrase: it's "humble, lacking pretension." My mom said it best: he was one of the good guys.

If there was anything I wanted to be when I grew up, it was a musician. I had a taste of it as a kid, playing saxophone in a jazz band thru high school. But as I progressed to the next level, I learned that enthusiasm did not trump talent. So I tried a different avenue, and exchanged my instrument for a pen. And while my dad had the chance to hear me play when I was young, he also had a chance to read my stuff when I was older. And at some level, that was better. 

That's because instead of doing other people's material, I was able to do my own, albeit on a small stage of my own making. It also enabled me to pay tribute to him on his 60th and 70th birthdays, in words that hopefully conveyed a least a small part of what he meant to me. I would gladly have penned another on his 80th. Instead, here I am, just shy of his 79th, writing a different type of piece.

Still, there was a common theme in those past attempts, one that hopefully echoes in this present one as well. They tell you that you can't say "I love you" enough to a child. I've come to realize that neither could I say it too much to him. I tried in print, I tried in speech, I tried in actions. But this is when you realize that no matter the method or the frequency, it is never enough.

So on this day there will be no parades in London. Congress will pass no resolution. No radio station will devote an hour of its programming to singing his praises. There will not be a national day of mourning, schools will not close and traffic will not cease. For my dad wasn't a remarkable historical figure, or a man of great wealth and power, or an individual whose influence transcended his times. 

But in the final analysis, none of that matters. For he accomplished that for which all of us strive. I can only hope that my kids remember me the way I will remember him: as a gentle soul who loved and supported those around him, who always gave someone the benefit of the doubt and who tried to do the best he could with what he had. He left footsteps. I will take memories. And when you think about, that's a pretty good legacy to leave behind.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford thinks of his dad every day. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.

Fake G's

Hyperbole is the mother's milk of marketing. A computer is not just "new," it's "revolutionary." A car isn't just "fast," it's "screaming." Ford pickups "don't raise the bar, they are the bar." It's even on the box the guy just delivered to your house from Giuseppe's Pizza and Pasta: "You've Tried the Rest Now Try the Best." 

Well, maybe it is and maybe it isn't. We've all learned to discount the claims made by companies, figuring the truth is somewhere between nothing and everything. In most cases, we look at the basic specs to see if a product meets our needs, then do a little surfing and asking around. If it seems like it might work, we give it a go and hope for the best. Based on our experience we then tell our friends or post a review. And the product cycle of life continues. 

That all works if the claim is subjective. It's easy to decide if something tastes better or makes us feel warmer or makes cleanup easier. But if the feature being touted is done so as objective fact, it's a different story. I have no way of knowing if something is really made of bamboo or prevents injuries or makes you more attentive. Yet those claims were made respectively about Sears Bamboo Fabric, Vibram Five-Finger Shoes and Kellogg's Frosted Mini-Wheats. In each case the claims were deemed misleading, resulting in revised ads and millions of dollars in fines. 

The latest example revolves around what has become the hub of our technological universe, the phone. It was 35 years ago this month when the first commercial model was released, the Motorola DynaTAC 8000x. About the size of a foot-long turkey and swiss sandwich from Subway, it weighed 1.75 pounds, stored 30 numbers, took 10 hours to recharge, lasted about 30 minutes and cost $3,995. If you ever wonder if there really is progress in the world, consider its great-great grandchild in your pocket. 

But whether you are a member of the Apple or Android tribe, that is only half of the equation. The other is the network that supports the phone. The DynaTAC ran on a first generation network, or 1G. It was analog and good for voice only. Over the ensuing decades we've gone to 2G (digital including support for text messaging), 3G (higher speeds and multimedia support) and the current 4G (even faster and simultaneous connections). Even if you're a technological idiot you can appreciate the evolution from barely being able to make a call, to being able to talk to your mom while you text your BFF AND watch "Ant Man" on a 4-inch screen. 

Just as each of those G's was quantum leap from the last, so too will 5G be. Among other improvements, experts say it will be seriously faster than current 4G speeds: estimates start at 20 times and go up from there. It will make driverless cars practical, and remote telemedicine dependable. For your phone it will mean download times in seconds vs minutes, and live augmented reality with no lag. And yes, it will be what all the cool kids have first. 

And it looks like AT&T is the cool kid. Recently the company updated its phones to replace the "4LTE" symbol commonly found up top with "5Ge." Now, you might think that that indicates that they ready or adaptable or already playing in this new rarified air. That "e" is probably just some technological variant: the ‘5" is what counts. Right? Wrong. The "e" stands for "evolution," and just indicates a slightly faster 4G connection, not new technology. When 5G is finally here in about 2 years or so, you'll still need to buy a new phone which will connect to a new tower. At this point, they could just as correctly displayed "5G-ish." 

Sprint has filed a lawsuit accusing AT&T of false and misleading advertising. Not cowed easily, AT&T Communications CEO John Donovan conceded the phones aren't capable of 5G speeds, but said that the move was made to "ready" consumers about the forthcoming switch to 5G. In his view, it's merely planting a flag for the next big battle: "I have now occupied beachfront real estate in my competitor's head, and that makes me smile." 

Put another way: in a world rife with fake news, is it really any wonder we're talking about fake G's?

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Marc Wollin of Bedford functions at a 3G level. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.

Daredevil Foodies

The poll was conducted over two days in early January of this year utilizing a national sample of more than 2,200 adults. No simple click-bait survey, it involved online interviews to gather the data. The results were then weighted to approximate a target sample based on age, race/ethnicity, gender, educational attainment and region. Based on standardized practice, the final tallies have a margin of error of plus or minus 2 percentage points.

You're heard about thousands of these efforts using the same scientific methodology. They focus on Americans' views on the everything from climate change ("Is it man-made?") to vaccinations ("Do they cause autism?"), from marijuana (Should it be legal?") to college tuition ("Should it be free?"), from sanctuary cities ("Should they be banned?") to plastic straws ("Should they be banned?"). This one was on an issue that is less a hot button even if it does directly affect almost every person in the country: snacking.

Defined as "a small amount of food eaten between meals," snacking in general unites us rather than divides us. According to Mintel, a market intelligence agency, "nearly everyone in America snacks every day. Of the 94% of people who snack during the day, half snack two to three times per day." In this particular survey, the question was framed this way: "What snacks would you bring to a party?" While backed by snacking behemoth Frito-Lay and published on March 4, "National Snack Day," it is no less instructive as to the national mood, er, taste.

The results show that that there are essentially three types of snackers. Unsurprisingly, the "Traditionalist" is the most common. They have classic style and prefer options like potato chips or nuts and seeds. Keeping with the stereotype of those set in their ways, they also tend to skew older: 47% of Boomers fall into this category. Gen Xers, for all their embracement of new technologies, also have a solid old school presence: 37% of them feel at home with a pretzel or corn chip. Found all over the country, the only locale where traditionalists weren't in the majority was in Colorado.

The next most popular profile is described as "Daredevil Foodie." For them, every snack has to be an adventure. Not just Cheez-Its, but Chipotle-Cheddar Cheez-Its. Not just Cheetos, but Flamin' Hot Asteroids Flavor Shot Cheetos. Emblematic of this category are Pringles in Screamin' Dill Pickle flavor, which manufacturer Kellogg describes as "so big and bold and freaking Xtra that it just screams ‘PICKLE.'" One in four people fall into this category, with a heavy presence in Dallas, Atlanta, Houston, Miami and L.A. Devotees tend to be younger: in fact, more than a third of Gen Z and Millennials describe themselves this way. 

Third are the "Sweet Tooth Snackers." Given the choice, these folks choose candy and cookies for themselves. Very strongly represented in Texas and Michigan, they do acknowledge that they are not in the majority and are sensitive to the desires of the masses: 2 in 5 hide their habit under the rug when they go to that hypothetical party, and bring potato chips for the rest.

Note that the question was not framed as "What snack do you prefer?" but rather "What snacks would you bring to a party?" There is an extrapolation there in that the pollsters are assuming you will project your tastes on your fellow revelers, thereby revealing your true innermost desires. But a last group is at least honest about their actions. It's not that they fall into any particular category or are even an "all of the above" type snacker. Rather, under questioning, 9% of respondents admit to being the "Last-Minute Friend" who stops at the grocery store en route to the party, and buys whatever is on sale. Still, given the bounty of the snack aisle, the pickings of one in four in this group is popcorn. They're also most likely to live in Illinois.

So it turns out that as in almost every other walk of life, we are a divided nation. Not unlike Democrats vs Republicans, or conservatives vs liberals, those divisions cut across region and age. However, unlike those divisions, members of each tribe are still willing to marry outside their own. That said, those unions could be in trouble in the future, especially at Super Bowl parties.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford views snacks as a major food group. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.

Smell the Coffee?

If you use a French Press, you know the tradeoff. It makes great coffee, but cleanup is a pain. Once you pull out the press you have to bang and scrape the bottom to clean out the used grounds. On top of that the traditional glass carafe doesn't really keep your joe hot. The Rite Press "No Mess French Press" promised to change all that. Only one problem: it was merely an idea, not a product. 

Still, for $35, it seemed worth taking a chance. And so I signed on as backer #9719 along with 21,000 others on Kickstarter to make it happen. If you aren't familiar with the platform, it's a place where entrepreneurs of all types go to raise funds for various projects, such as products, films or campaigns. In exchange for funding, the entrepreneurs offer rewards, be it swag or credit or actual goods. Rite Press did the same, offering backers bargain prices and first dibs on various sizes and colors once they raised the $1 million needed to go into production. 

To be clear, this isn't Amazon. People raise money thru Kickstarter to try and bring ideas to life, not to sell a product that comes in two days. The site explicitly says that you are pledging money to an idea which might never come to fruition. There is no guarantee that you will ever see the final product or get any return. It's venture capital at the micro level. 

And projects involving hardware have a poor track record. That's because entrepreneurs routinely underestimate the difficulty, time and cost of producing a product and scaling it up to the masses. And the Rite team seems to have fallen squarely into that trap. The factory producing the press had quality issues. The delivery target date of 2 months was too soon. And the original pledge of $35 was too low to make any money. 

So for 6 months all I got were sporadic updates, along with angry community response. It didn't help that Rite kept offering backers updated models or new incentives for additional pledges, each of which pushed back fulfillment. Or that they developed a lower cost plastic version to sell on Amazon, one which they say was done with a separate funding stream. Backers posted scathing reviews accusing the company of mismanagement and fraud: "They are beyond contempt" was the general drift. Another: "I hope they get their asses sued into oblivion." And in a nod to the abortive music gathering that is the subject of two current films, "Is this the Kickstarter version of the Fyre Festival?" 

Then in the fall, an unmarked package arrived. In it was the Press. And I can report from first hand experience that in general it works well. The unique removable bottom makes cleanup easy, and the insulated side keeps the contents hot. On the other hand, the magnetic hourglass to track brewing time is pretty useless, as is the removable thermometer. Some parts seem well made, like the bottom seal, while others like the screen assembly on the press needs another iteration. But for a first-time-unique-crowdfunded product, it wasn't bad. 

However, I seem to be one of the few who actually got one. Nearly 70% of the other backers have not received their premium. Angry posts have piled up, law suits have been filed, along with many mea culpas and explanations from the originators. Then this week a rather remarkable email request came from Sargam Patel, the CEO. "The press that we shipped you ended up costing us far more to make than you pledged. If you like the product and want to help other backers get one please consider a supporting pledge. We are short about twenty dollars a unit for all the presses that we have shipped out, but any support you can offer would be great." Predictably, the responses from the backer community have been even angrier than before, along the lines of this one: "I'm not paying another dime, you tone-deaf and unscrupulous bastards!" 

Ground breaking product? Not bad for a first go, needs some work. Worth the investment? I'd say yes. Scam or inexperienced and optimistic entrepreneurs? If only because I got my press and I'm basically a positive person, I vote the latter. Then again, I'm one of the few that can wake up and actually smell the coffee.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford likes coffee in the morning. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.

Call Me Maybe

Fifteen years ago if you opened my backpack you would have found a handful of electronic devices to enable me to run my business and my life. There was a flip phone so I could make calls, a PDA with my calendar and address book, a GPS to use in my car, a beeper to activate my answering machine and a camera so I could take pics. The internet was in its infancy; looking stuff up remotely was a pipe dream. Each of those boxes worked well enough to enable me to more or less function outside of my office. Combine all those into one unit? Either delusional or laughable. 

Today, of course, we carry a single device that does all those things and more, enabling us to do everything on the road, and in many cases, even easier than at home. That said, my wish list hasn't gotten any longer. I still want to make phone calls. Not conference or video, just simply dial a number and talk to the person on the other end. I want to be able look up some information on a person in my address book, maybe their kid's name, the last project we worked on together or the address of their office. I want to be able to look at my calendar, and see where I need to be tomorrow and the day after that. Beyond those basic officey functions I want to be able check my email and texts, look up some random information on the internet, use a mapping program to get me from here to there, and maybe snap a pic or two.

And my phone does that. And more. Way more. It is a ticket wallet and a music player. It lets me read the newspaper and carry hundreds of books of my choosing. It has a calculator, a voice recorder and an app to find parking places. I'm not a game player, but if I were there are hundreds, even thousands of programs to waste my time. And while I watch the occasional video on it, it is also capable of storing and letting me watch "Gone with the Wind," as long as I don't mind the burning of Atlanta on a 5-inch screen. 

Steve Jobs famously said "People don't know what they want until you show it to them." That may be, but the market says they've shown us quite enough. Phone sales are down, driven in part by adding features no one wants, and just as importantly, price tags that no wants to pay. 

But it would seem "they" are not listening. Last week Samsung rolled out 4 new phones. One model has 3 cameras built in. Supposedly this helps automate making the background out of focus and the foreground in focus. However, since most people use their phones to take quick snapshots or selfies to which they add cat ears, seems a little overkill. Yet another of the new phones was foldable. Twice as thick as the one you are carrying now, it opens to become a mini tablet. That makes it too big for your pocket when folded, with a screen that is both too big and too small when unfolded. It's like an all-weather coat that really doesn't keep you dry nor warm. 

Phones have gotten so gimmicky and complicated that someone has even resurrected the Palm brand and created a mini phone about the size of a credit card that enables you to just do the basics. The idea is that you keep your "regular" phone in your backpack or purse, and keep this one handy to check calls and texts. There's a small wrist holder so it's always at the ready, or a tiny Kate Spade custom clutch to hold it in style. 

Not interested. Here's where I am at: if mine breaks, I'll buy a new one. I expect that the innards will get faster and last longer on a single charge, and that might tempt me. If they roll out 5G or 7G or GigaG and I need that to connect, I guess I'll have no choice. And if someone invents a new technology that enables my phone to cook dinner or do the laundry or vacuum the family room, count me in. But other than that? Memo to Samsung and Apple and Motorola: enough already.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford doesn't use half the apps on his phone. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.