First Swag

I get the hats, I really do. Not that I wanted one, but as political tchotchkes, they were perfect. Bright red, boldly lettered, one-size-fits-all, they were the ultimate two-way street. Aficionados got to contribute to the candidate of their choice and get a totem that was easy to flaunt, while the campaign got to rake in the cash. How much? Eighteen months before the election campaign manager Brad Parscale bragged they had shipped nearly a million hats. With the average contribution being $45, and the cost per chapeau being $2, well, you do the math. 

It's a funding vehicle that all practice whether blue or red, top of ticket or down ballot. Elizabeth Warren had coffee mugs sporting a "Billionaire Tears" logo, while Amy Klobuchar has a "Amy for America" ice scraper. A little further away from the center, Georgia's John Ossoff had "Vote Your Ossoff" tee shirts, and Alabama's Tommy Tubberville had a pack of ten Tommy Tubber engraved straws. Candidates have even turned lemons into swag lemonade. A former opponent of then Senate Majority leader Mitch McConnell called him "Cocaine Mitch," an allusion to an allegation of drugs found aboard a cargo ship owned by McConnell's wife's family. Far from sparking outrage, the McConnell campaign printed up "Cocaine Mitch" tee shirts featuring a faceless figure with a sprinkling of white powder, and "Cartel Member" on the back. Sales of the shirts led to one of his best fundraising days ever, pulling in $70,000.

But it's not just those actively running for office that offer premiums to the faithful. In a different spin on the old mantra that "winners never quit," victorious pols use their newly found positions as platforms to keep raising money even if the need for it is far in the future. They do so with the ostensible purpose of supporting like-minded candidates and causes, leveraging the trappings of their current offices to solicit donations in exchange for trinkets. Technically candidates are not supposed to profit personally, but their campaigns and representatives are free to ask for and stockpile cash without running afoul of ethics guidelines.

That partly explains the latest missive to my inbox. By simple virtue of using the internet and having my address scrapped into the vast maw that is data collection, I find a continual flow of solicitations for charities, products and services. Add in a stop or two to both Democratic and Republican sites, and the trickle sent my way becomes a torrent, necessitating continual pruning, deleting and unsubscribing. To paraphrase a quote attributed to everyone from writer EK Means to comedian Dick Gregory to musician Albert King, if it weren't for bad email I'd have no email at all.

Still, I hate to completely cut off the flow because you miss the latest good stuff, like this one. Datelined Washington and sent by the Democratic National Committee, it seeks to raise funds in support of candidates and causes hewing to the left side of the ledger. And with one of their own holding down the fort at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, what better image to exploit that of "The People's House" itself.

As the solicitation is from the DNC and not the president himself, all is considered legal and on the up and up. Still, what trappings of the office do they choose to entice me to give? Not a "Ridin' with Biden" bumper sticker. Not a "Malarkey Mug." Not a "Doug the First Second Gentleman" hoodie. Rather, a "limited-edition White House painting featuring First Dogs Champ and Major." 

Yup, the iconic South Portico, site of signings and rallies and celebrations noted in the history books is merely the backdrop to the First Pets. For a donation of just $7, they will pull a print and send "what is sure to be a collector's item – after all with only 30,000 in stock, we're expecting to run out quickly." Sure enough, there's the official residence being guarded by the boys. Checkers would be jealous.

It's no MAGA hat to be sure. And to be blunt, it won't get me to fork over any amount. If they want to get me, the swag is going to have to rise to a higher level, and appeal to my other self interests. Maybe if they offered up a pound of freshly roasted "Just Joe," we could have a conversation.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford doesn't contribute to any parties he's not attending. 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.

Cutting Edge

When you talk "advancement" you usually talk technology. Whether it is your kitchen, your desk or your car, there is a constant push to add more features, redesign products or even reimagine completely those that we do use. Sometimes the results are stellar, other times not so much. For every iPhone and adaptive cruise control and sous vide digital cooker there is at least one "Belty." That's the auto adjusting "smart belt" that loosens or tightens based on on-board sensors as you sit, stand or eat more. You could get the same effect by wearing a boa constrictor on your slacks, but it might not fit through the loops.

Beyond that hardly a week goes by in which we aren't bombarded with an announcement of the latest and greatest revolving around stuff that doesn't have to be plugged in. In snacks there's Pringles Wavy Deep Fried Pickle flavor chips, packing "dill-pickle tanginess and savoury-fried satisfaction into an easy-to-eat format." In cosmetics there's InnBeauty's Project Lip Oil Glaze #4 in Cotton Candy, because, according to one reviewer, "before Zoom meetings, I find myself reaching for lip gloss more than any other lip product in my collection." And because it's just too much to open up a bottle of gin AND a can of tonic, "BOMBAY SAPPHIRE announces the launch of BOMBAY SAPPHIRE & TONIC Ready-to-Drink (RTD)." You still have to cut your own limes, but the folks in the lab are working on that.

As for me I am always looking for products that make my world easier and more efficient. And while much of the last year that has meant things in my home and office, as we start to stick our collective toes back into the world-at-large my focus has shifted back to my backpack. While it has sat on the floor next to my desk for most of the past 52 weeks, I am starting to dust it off and take it out once again. And that I means I am going through all that is in it, seeing if I now need more of this or less of that, and what the state-of-the-art is in carriable stuff.

For instance I find I need to haul less paper. As we've all been working remotely for the last year, most every document is accessible online so all can see it. Whereas before I would print out multiple copies of papers which I might need to share, with everyone working remotely there is actually no one to hand a copy to. On the other side of that equation is that I need more screens and devices with me. When on location I find I need to see many things at one time, and that means one on a computer, another on a pad, yet another on a phone. Unfortunately, that also means more cables and chargers. And yes, I'm trading lightweight paper for heavyweight electronics, but such is the price of progress.

But while I don't need multiple copies of printouts, I still have copies of a critical few, as sometimes paper is still the best option. And so as part of my baggage I have a small pencil case with pens, pencils, markers and such. The problem is that it requires poking around to find the thing I need. Not an earthshattering problem, but when you need a highlighter, dammit, you need it now.

And then I stumbled across the Five Star Pencil Pouch. True, maybe not new, but new to me. This little mesh item is a touch larger than the one I had. But it's not the size, it's the engineering. Rather than zip open along the long axis, it does so across the top. And then those flaps fold down to become - wait for it - a stand. The resulting pencil holder sits there next to my open notebook and computer, just waiting for me to pluck my preferred writing implements from it. I know: its ingenious, and/or I'm just easily impressed.

Even better, its costs four bucks. The only downside is that you have to take whatever trim color they send you, be it lime green red or neon pink. I was lucky and scored fire engine red. So keep your iPhone 37. I've got the Five Star Pencil Pouch, and I am riding the cutting edge.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford likes better designed things. 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.

Tweet Alert

It seemed to be one of those moments that could only have happened by the weird confluence of events and times in which we find ourselves. Were any one of these not to take place this wouldn't be a thing. But just as the pandemic itself is most probably the unlikely confluence of a bat, a civet and a human hanging out together in a street market in a remote province of China, this current footnote to history is what you get when things that don't belong together, well, do.

It reads like a bad a joke where the three walk into a bar, or a recipe for a cocktail invented on the Lower East Side. It starts with one part governing by tweet. As Twitter grew from a curiosity, where Ashton Kutcher outraced CNN to be the first with a million followers, to a tool for communication, with breaking the story of the landing of US Airways Flight 1549 as the "Miracle on the Hudson," it was perhaps inevitable the social media service would cross from margin to mainstream. And while an earthquake in Haiti and the Arab Spring demonstrated the service's reach, credit the last administration with setting a new paradigm. While the Declaration of Independence is hailed as an elegant and masterfully written argument, one wonders what Jefferson would do with just 280 characters; "George: We're done. Keep the stamps and tea, we'll take the land. Forget the UK; we're now the USA."

Then there's the aforementioned pandemic, which has upended almost every traditional notion about the separation between work and home. While not all were fortunate enough to make the pivot, many are able to do their jobs far from their usual places of employment. That meant rethinking the concept of schools, trading floors and call centers. And it also meant that professions which used to be done in highly secure facilities were now taking place in dens and converted bedrooms, where security went from armed guards and biometric IDs to putting a chair in front of the door.

And then you have kids. The wild card in any situation, they will do whatever they are going to do. All the safeguards, all the admonishments, all the supervision in the world doesn't amount to a hill of beans when they set their sights on something. After all, while they say that Mrs. O'Leary's cow started the Great Chicago Fire, what they don't tell you is that there was probably a tot pulling her tail.

So you have this unholy trinity: social media, a formerly secure worker now homebound, and a child. Each alone, not a problem. But together? That accounted for the most frightening news of the week. Not a new variant, not some spoiled J&J vaccine, not the First Dog nipping yet another individual, but a toddler briefly seizing control of the Strategic Air Command's Twitter account.

At 7:48PM on a recent Sunday night, the account of the branch of the military responsible for our nuclear arsenal posted this: ";l;;gmlxzssaw." Roughly a half an hour later it was deleted. Was it a coded order to a nuclear sub? Coordinates for a target in North Korea? A command to go to battle stations? Nah, none of that. Seems the manager on the USSTRATCOM Twitter account walked away from his home computer without locking the system down, and his "very young child" took control of the keyboard. And before you could say DEFCON 4 the toddler had almost commandeered US forces for his or her own purposes. 

Thankfully nothing happened, and the random blast was quickly flagged and disavowed. But could Junior have accidently typed something more damaging? It calls to mind the theory that, left alone, a bunch of monkeys banging on a typewriter could emulate Shakespeare. It was put to the test in 2003, when a team at the University of Plymouth's Institute of Digital Arts and Technology placed a keyboard in the enclosure of 6 Sulawesi crested macaques at the Paignton Zoo. One month later they had produced 5 pages of nonsense, and spent most of their time "urinating and/or defecating on the computer until such time as it stopped working." So in that light, perhaps ";l;;gmlxzssaw" is far from the worst that could have been done to the SAC account to, well, gum up the works. 

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Marc Wollin of Bedford still doesn't understand how to use social media. 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.

Either/Or

It is a particular curse of our time (and a true first world problem) that we have so many choices, and then lament that bounty. We don't just have one good source for movies at home, we have Netflix and Hulu and Amazon Prime and Disney Plus and and and. There are shelves in the grocery store devoted to crackers and detergents and condiments that run for multiple pushes of your shopping cart. And most recently we don't have just one vaccine to end a worldwide pandemic, but at last count four. To paraphrase the Bard, methinks we doth protest too much.

In many cases the choices exist on a level playing field, and the selection is merely a matter of personal taste. Pepsi or Coke, "Game of Thrones" or "The Crown," Honda or Toyota: each has its adherents, each its detractors. Perhaps if you cared and took the time to plot the finer points of one over the other you might be able to discern a clear winner, though it all depends on what metric you hold dear. And so while aficionados may argue which is the better selection, to large swaths of the populace the question of which peanut butter is more distinguished is, well, indistinguishable. 

But there are other areas where the choices pose an either/or conundrum. Rather than picking among the better of two options, or alternatively the lesser of two evils, the alternatives represent a contradiction. As much as we'd like to find ways to balance and honor both possibilities, making a choice means choosing a side. No shading of a position, you have to decide that you will cast your lot with one camp or the other, and take the leap. 

To be sure our current political environment has exacerbated this situation. With compromise reduced to being a four-letter word, you not "allowed" to offer a view that has any nuance. You are for fossil fuels or green energy, you are for closing the borders or immigration, you are for shutting the economy or opening everything up. Never mind that almost no one, either professionally or personally, is convinced that either answer is the right one. For the sake of the tribe, you are forced to come down on one side of the fence or the other, no sitting on top allowed.

You can't find a more effective demonstration of this situation than two items in the news that hit at virtually the same time. On the one hand is a study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association that "sought to investigate ambulatory weight changes of a longitudinal cohort during initial shelter-in-place (SIP) orders to better understand the possible downstream health implications of prolonged SIP." In English that means they are curious just how fat we all got sitting at home near our refrigerators over the last year. As they say, your results may vary, but the survey found that adults gained approximately 1.5 pounds a month. Ten months in, and you now have scientific evidence of the quarantine 15.

On the other side of the house, on the exact same day, Krispy Kreme Doughnuts announced their "Sweet Support" campaign. Bring your vaccine card to a participating shop, and they will give you a free original glazed doughnut. For the record, that item clocks in at 190 calories, 100 of which are from fat, so one serving equals 25% of your recommended daily allotment. Note that this is available every day for the rest of the year. Also note that I could eat a dozen myself. In one sitting. And still have room for more.

So here's the conundrum. Shelter in place, avoid people, disease and transmission, help nip the virus at its source, and gain weight. Or venture out and get a vaccination, then celebrate your civic mindedness by scarfing down a free treat, contributing to our ongoing obesity epidemic. Freedom or tyranny. Socialism or capitalism. Stay home or free doughnut. The last might not sound as good being screamed by Mel Gibson in a kilt, but it is perhaps the most difficult choice of all. As for me, I will venture out, get the vaccine, and avoid the freebie. I just thank the good Lord that the offer wasn't for a free Boston Crème. Then all bets would have been off.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford likes to eat many things he shouldn't. 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.