Buy Before You Try

There's an old maxim in photography that film is cheap. What that means is that getting to the right spot, or waiting for the right moment, or getting the right people together for a photo is the hardest part. It might cost you time or hardship or money, but once you do, the thing that cost the least is the celluloid on which the pic is recorded. It's all about capturing a moment in time. And once the stars align for that moment, snap, snap and snap once more, because you might never get the same chance again.

Still, back when it was a physical thing to snap a shot there was most definitely a cost. The film itself had a price, as did the developing and printing. Unlike today where you can see the results of your efforts immediately, every time you pressed the shutter release you took a certain leap of faith. Did you have the right kind of film? Did you have it framed right? Did you have all the settings correct? Have any of them wrong and your efforts were for naught. And so before you pressed that button, you did your due diligence to make sure you had the best chance of getting the shot.

Fast forward to today, and that equation has been flipped on its head, as the cost of film isn't just cheap, its non-existent. And so we snap pics of anything and everything with no thought or consideration. To be sure there are talented photographers who take time and care to make an image come alive. But the vast majority of us just pull out our phone and snap wherever and whatever we feel like with no thought beforehand. That cute puppy? Snap. That nice sunset? Snap. But also the car in front of me, the doodle on the pavement and the sign outside the bakery? Snap, snap, snap. Shoot first, ask why it needs to be memorialized later.

Shopping seems to have undergone a similar reversal. For years the mantra was try before you buy. We would go to a store, and test out prospective acquisitions. That might mean trying on a pair of shoes, or sitting in a chair, or even unpacking your pocketbook in the store and repacking a new model to see if all of your stuff fit. Only after we had some sense of whether the item in question might measure up to our needs did we head to the register and check out.

No more. Now we buy before we try. With generous return policies and free shipping each way, it's no longer a matter of testing and trying, but of clicking and delivering. There is no research involved, unless you consider research sitting on your couch and scrolling through reviews from people you don't know with views and opinions for which you have no reference. 

It goes like this. First, you check the shipping speed: can it be here in 72 hours, hopefully less? Next, is it an item that allows for free returns? With those table stakes in play, you move on to ratings. Like the Olympics, you throw out the high ("The best footrest EVER!") and the low ("The adjustment knob broke a week after I got it. Crap."). Then you average the rest, and if the over/under doesn't seem too bad, you click "Add to cart," checkout, and go back to finishing your bag of Doritos. Two days or so later you find a package on your front stoop. If it fits you or the counter or next to the bed as hoped, all good. If not, you go back and click return because "item is defective" or "website description inaccurate" so there's no chance of getting hit with shipping. Then you try again, dropping the item at The Mail Box Store on the way to the supermarket. Rinse. Repeat.

To be sure, it doesn't work for some things: tissues, underwear and food come to mind. But for most stuff, as long as UPS is in business, it will be hard to put the genie back in the bottle. Save your wedding, never again do you need to go the store to try on an outfit. And even then? Turns out there is a DavidsBridal.com. Now if you could only do the same with your spouse, returns included.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford orders entirely too much online. 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.

Reentry

In a recent interview for The New York Times podcast "Sway," host Kara Swisher was talking with Samantha Bee about the difficulty in reengaging in real life after, well, you know. "Do you know how to interact with people anymore?" asked Swisher. Replied Bee, "No, I do not. My social anxiety is advanced now. I find great protection in my mask." And when Bee finally did have people over to her house? "We threw so much entertainment at them. We just over-provided, to the point that they fled. They were just like, 'Can we please get out of here?'"

It can be tough to become social again after we spent a year learning how to be distant.

Every sandbox you played in, including school, work, social and extended family, was summarily kneecapped in March of 2020. Overnight your daily in-person encounters amounted to your immediate family and delivery people. There was the occasional foray to get supplies, but conversation and engagement was kept to a purposeful minimum. Even if you did chat with your neighbor from opposite sides of the street or on either side of a fence, there was only one topic for discussion. There was no talk of movies or restaurants or concerts or ball games because, well, there were no movies or concerts or restaurants or ball games.

Yes, there was Zoom. So much of progress is someone coming up with something and then looking for the breakthrough moment when it finally makes a difference. And if ever there was a case of a hand looking for a glove, this was it. While the platform was already the leading video conferencing app, last year it went positively nuclear. Steve Jobs famously said, "People don't know what they want until you show it to them." Well, at the end of 2019, there were 10 million daily participants on the service. By April of 2020 the number had grown to 300 million. They showed it to us, and we wanted it.

But that virtual facetime also meant we lost our in-person chops. While we became experts at muting and unmuting, we got out of practice on small talk and body language. While we became really good at juggling our phones to check texts just out of camera range, we got rusty on standing in the same place and looking interested while the speaker was really boring. And while we got proficient at curating our outfits above the waist, we forgot that showing up in person meant needing pants. Well, maybe not forgot, but at least showing up in something that didn't have an elastic waist.

On the flip side, it will be a pleasure to have a meeting with no extraneous distractions. Where only the people meant to be there are there: no dogs, no kids, no guys cutting the lawn. Or to look at Tyler sitting across from you and not have to wonder why he didn't make his bed behind him. Or why Professor Smittens has a plastic schnauzer with a mortarboard over her left shoulder. Or what a pleasure it is to look straight at Ben's face and not up his nose.

Still, reentry is hard. Be assured we'll all get there eventually, because interacting with people in real life is no different from riding a bike. The reason you don't forget how to do either is that both are procedural memories. As opposed to declarative memory, which helps you store "what is what," procedural or muscle memory is more about "how and what." And so laying off skills you haven't used for a while means that while you may be rusty, with a little practice they will come back. It's that way with playing an instrument or ice skating or tying your shoes. And yes, it's also the same with laughing politely while your boss tells you about her adorable grandchild who looks like a monkey.

So ease back on in. For sure you might not get the sarcasm your co-worker employs, or have to relearn the ability to produce that little chuckle needed to encourage a member of your book group to continue, or feel awkward doing that subtle wink to a teammate that didn't work on a webcam. Expect a few speed bumps in your live punning, but you'll get over it. (Did you get that one? No? Not to worry, you'll catch up.)

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Marc Wollin of Bedford is relearning how to appear interested. 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.

Not Good Enough

I used to work with a company that built stuff we needed for projects. Their constructs were perfect for what we were doing: not too expensive, not too fancy, did just what we wanted. But they were also exactly what we needed, and no more. They had no pretensions of grandeur. Indeed the guys who made the stuff knew all the tricks: cheaper materials, techniques that fooled the eye to make it look better than it was, construction that lasted only as long as it was needed. And that was fine: we all understood the deal, and the price was right. One of my associates coined a tongue-in-cheek slogan for them: "When good enough is our very best." 

Buy something and that's often what you get: good enough. Mind you, that's not necessarily a bad thing. You don't always need or want the best that money can buy. Maybe it's a sweater in a particular color for a special outfit, or an ingredient for a recipe that will be mixed in with many others, or a spare power supply to throw in your backpack. A trip to Walmart or Target or a click on some no-name product on Amazon might get you something that's just fine for your purposes, where price and performance combine to hit the value sweet spot you want and need.

Then again, sometimes you want to go to the other extreme. You are willing to spend whatever it costs to get the best even if there are suitable lower priced alternatives. Of course, that beauty is most definitely in the eye of the beholder. While one person might be happy with a Ford Explorer, for another only a Porsche Cayenne will do. Both get you from place to place so it's not about functionality. It's about style, it's about status, it's about a lot of intangibles.

And so it is with bourbon. There's plenty of variety out there, with price points and tastes for any drinker. Some brands are indeed good enough: they aren't stand-outs, but are enjoyable to drink and don't cost an arm and a leg. Others boast a more sophisticated flavor profile, and come with a commensurate premium price. And then there are some that aficionados hunger for, and are willing to spend a 2500% premium above a bottle of Knob Creek to snag on the secondary market.

That's the case for George T. Stagg Straight Bourbon Whiskey. A product of the Buffalo Trace Distillery, this stuff is put up in barrels for 15 years in limited quantities, then decanted and bottled. It is released just once a year on a strict allocation basis, and has a cult following among enthusiasts. Though it has a suggested retail price of $99, good luck finding some at the that cost: depending on the specific year, the average price for this hooch runs around $1254 per bottle.

At that price "good enough" is simply not. It has to live up the hype, or the whole mystique goes away. You know that routine where you order a bottle of wine, the waiter brings it to your table and gives you a little sip to make sure it hasn't turned? Well, the master distillers at Buffalo Trace do the same thing. Except this year, rather say "fine" and indicate to fill up the glasses around the table, they turned up their noses. "Unfortunately, this crop of barrels earmarked to be Stagg back when it was put in the barrel in 2006 did not meet the Stagg profile today," said master distiller Harlen Wheatley. "We discussed at great length how to proceed, and ultimately decided we did not feel right about lowering our standards or the age, by dipping into next year's supply of barrels." And so they decided to put it aside, and let it mature a bit more. But that also means that this year's drinkers will be Stagless.

Think about it: a company that made a product, brought it to market, and then decided it wasn't right and ate the multiple millions it cost to develop it. They felt that good enough simply wasn't. Perhaps we can all take a lesson. Or as Cher once said, "There are lots of things that I'd like to be, and nice just doesn't seem good enough."

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Marc Wollin of Bedford has been known to sip some bourbon. 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.

Cluck This

The numbers are up, way up. To be sure, there are regional variations: they are highest in the south and southwest, but still trending steadily upwards in the northeast and west. And while the increase is across the board, the demographics with the greatest increase appear to skew towards those that are older, female, have higher incomes, have children in the household, and live in the suburbs. While empirical data as to the best option is hard to come by, experts do say that one choice is a standout. And that name is not Moderna, Pfizer or J&J, but Popeye's. Because for once we're not taking statistics about vaccines, we're talking chicken sandwiches.

If you had to name the definitive fast food sandwich, most would default to the iconic McDonald's burger. And throughout most of QSR history (that's Quick Service Restaurant, what industry prefers to call itself) you would have been right. Ever since Ray Kroc founded the first Mickey D's in 1955, it has come to define and dominate our takeout lives. It was a few years later in 1964 that Chick-fil-A introduced a mass market poultry competitor: a portion of white chicken meat, breaded, fried and served in a steamed roll with some pickles. While it was popular enough to spread to other chains, it was most decidedly an also-ran for years and years, something to have on the menu for those picky eaters that had un-American beef-based palates.

But a variety of factors, from shifting tastes to healthier eating habits to just plain solid marketing have all helped to take chicken from a mere challenger to a contender. Availability also helped: according to the USDA, in 2018 65.2 pounds of chicken per person were available for Americans to eat (on a boneless, edible basis) as compared to 54.6 pounds of beef. In fact, since 1970, U.S. chicken availability per person has more than doubled. That has translated into demand, as roughly 65 percent of the U.S. population has ordered a breaded chicken sandwich from a quick service restaurant in the six months ending April of this year.

While it had its devotees, there was no breakout moment. None, that is, until August of 2019, when Popeye's burst onto the landscape. While they had tried once before with a Chicken Po-Boy in 2003, it never gained traction and was eventually discontinued. This was different. It quickly sold out, then reappeared in November. It's hard to believe the press would swoon over a fast food item, but swoon they did. Said one review "There is almost certainly better fried chicken in the world than the version found at Popeyes, but only marginally so." Another said" it's a tiny miracle." And still another rated it "10 out of 10: I would cancel plans for it." 

Of course, success like that means the battle is joined. Every major and minor player threw their breast into the ring: KFC, Whataburger, Wendy's, Church's, Zaxbys, Fatburger and yes, McDonald's, all rolled out new offerings or refreshed old ones. It got so you couldn't stretch a wing without hitting a brioche bun and a tangy sauce. All those choices helped fuel demand, to the point that annual growth in consumption is over 24%. If the sandwich were a stock and you bought in, you would be one wealthy cluck.

But wait, there's trouble on the horizon, as the next chapter of the story may about to be written. One of the biggest trends in food is the growth of plant-based products, with plant-based meat sales up 45%. That helps to explain why the two largest artificial protein purveyors, Beyond Meat and Impossible Foods, have both rolled out chicken replacement products. Doing what they did for beef in replicating taste and texture, you can now get Beyond Chicken Tenders and Impossible Nuggets. Reviews have been positive: this is one case were the phrase "tastes like chicken" is high praise indeed.

In the late 1960s you might have had the good fortune to happen across a radio series about a mild-mannered shoe salesman named Benton Harbor. On the weekend he fought crime as "the most fantastic crime fighter the world has ever known," striking terror into the hearts of evil doers as Chickenman. The Fantastic Fowl's battle cry? "He's everywhere, He's everywhere!" Was he talking chicken sandwich or super hero? It remains to be seen.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford loves a good piece of fried chicken. 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.

Smooth Criminals

Two-time Pulitzer Prize winner Colson Whitehead's latest book "Harlem Shuffle" centers on a petty criminal named Ray Carney. Carney is a fence, a minor yet essential player in the criminal firmament, whom Whitehead describes as "only slightly bent when it came to being crooked." Asked in one interview whether there was any criminality in his own background which helped him to flesh out Carney's character, Whitehead confessed that, alas, he is a Boy scout: his only overt theft was that of WiFi.

In that respect he is like many if not most of us. By and large we follow the rules and laws, and generally don't engage in murders, robbery or other major crimes. Still, there are multiple petty offences we do commit willfully, rationalizing them as victimless or harmless. In other cases we cross the line without knowledge of the statute we are breaking, a concept known legally known as "ignorantia juris non excusat." You don't need a degree in Latin to translate that as "stupid don't make for a defense."

The list of our everyday transgressions is ubiquitous. WiFi theft is certainly one of them: I for one don't have enough fingers to count the times I've pulled up next to a Starbucks or other café and tapped into their signal without going in and buying anything. Ever share a Netflix or similar password with a friend? Expressly forbidden in their user agreement. Likewise using a false name or alias on a website. That's a no-no, as most sites specifically ask you to use and register your real name and contact info. And who among us can throw the first stone professing to never having used their cell phone while driving? Dangerous for sure, and guilty without a doubt.

Then there's the whole world of copyright. That's the protection of material created by others who then have the right to be compensated when it is used. In prehistoric times that meant that you were breaking the law if you made a photocopy of a magazine article to share with a class or friends. But that was mere shoplifting as compared to the bank heist that happens with the internet. Now pictures, music, videos – anything and everything that is posted online – is routinely "borrowed" for other uses without permission or compensation. That New Yorker cartoon you put in your PowerPoint? Guilty! That Smashmouth song you run behind that montage of little league pics? Guilty! That movie clip of from a James Bond flick that you added to your vacation highlight video? Guilty! For the record, that's guilty, guilty and guilty!

There's a myriad of other crimes that are black letter law pure and simple, but rarely get called out. Ever go over the speed limit? More often than not, if it's within a 5 to 10 an hour bumper, the cops will let you slide. Ever duck into the bushes to relieve yourself? There are most likely ordinances that forbid exposing yourself in a public place even if you just have to go. Cross the street between intersections or while the light is red? While it may not be a federal crime, there are laws on the books of most municipalities prohibiting exactly that. And what about taking your spouse's antihistamine? It actually is a federal offense to take medication not prescribed for you, but according to the American College of Preventative Medicine, people get nearly 60% of prescription drugs from family and friends. We'll see you all in court.

Even being a good citizen and preventing the spread of COVID can run you afoul of the law. We're not talking whether or not you abide by mask or vaccine mandates. But if you take your mask and hang it from your rearview mirror on your way to your next appointment, in many municipalities it is no more legal than fuzzy dice or air fresheners. On your face, legal and encouraged. On your windshield, not so much.

In in most cases our flirting with the wrong side of the law is thankfully harmless even if technically wrong. Indeed, if pushed to a life of crime, most of us would likely be inept criminals rather than smooth ones. Or as Rodney Dangerfield put it, "Once a guy pulled a knife on me, but I knew he wasn't a professional because the knife had butter on it." 

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Marc Wollin of Bedford tries to follow the rules. Mostly. 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.