Movie Night

We finally took the plunge. It wasn't that there was any specific metric that finally added up, or that we had made a spreadsheet tallying pros and cons, or that we wanted to make a statement to ourselves and the world. It was far more pedestrian than that. We had a quiet weekend, the weather looked iffy and it seemed no one was around to join us for dinner. We played the usual game of "What do you want to do?" "No, What do YOU want to do?" And then because it seemed like the best of the options and the path of least resistance, we decided to finally go to a movie. 

Whether you were a regular theater-goer or just the occasional action or superhero blockbuster fangirl or boy, your attendance has been basically shut down these last two years. Like so many things that involved crowds of people, be it restaurants or sporting events or concerts, for a period of time you couldn't have gone even if you wanted to. Then as things started to stabilize, if not improve, the boldest stuck their toe in the waters, and dealt with proof of vaccination and masks as required by an ever-shifting set of regulations that varied from locale to locale. And now the continuum has shifted to where it seems most of the country has gone from saying "Pandemic! There's a pandemic going on!" to "Pandemic? There's a pandemic going on?"

As with almost everything, when it all started patterns and habits shifted at lightning pace for the simple reason that they had to. For sure, in before times, there were takeout meals and online shopping and Netflix subscriptions. In their lane each was just one possibility among others. Then very quickly it all went from being one option to the only option. And now the teeter totter has started to tip back towards the center.

Sort of. 

It would have been hard to believe before, but we've all gotten used to our adapted and adopted ways. We've gone back to restaurants, but still love Uber Eats. Stores are open, but it's so much more convenient to just click and have it delivered to your house in the next few days. Going to the office? You might miss having lunch with your colleagues, but weighted against a 2 hour or more commute, Zoom is just fine. And our entertainment options are no different.

After all, there are so many reasons to just curl up on the couch and stream "The Batman" versus going to a theater. You can start and stop it whenever you want. A snack of any kind is steps away. Especially if there are multiple people watching, the cost is a fraction of multiple tickets. You can check your email at the slow spots. No parking, no lines, no tall person in front of you blocking the screen. 

Speaking for ourselves, we appreciate all that, and revel in it as well. But some of those home-grown net-positives have a downside. Watching at home means you can easily give up on a film that takes time to build. Yes, you can stop and start with impunity, but that foregoes any sense of pacing. And being forced to sit in a dark room with no other distractions and giving yourself over to the story is what movies do best, and what the medium and magic is all about.

And so off we went. We parked easily enough, got tickets with no trouble, and found seats we liked in a mostly empty auditorium. The film was "Everywhere Everything All At Once," and as one of the many gushing reviews put it "An astonishing achievement that tells the simplest of stories in the most elaborate of ways. Outlandishly absurd yet deceptively powerful, it's truly unlike anything you've ever seen." Even if you discount that by half, it was perfect for a theater: complex, original, visual, strange. 

We went out for a bite after, and talked it through, admiring some parts, dismissing others. Whether you wind up seeing it and liking it or not, it deserved a big screen and a quiet room. And perhaps most importantly of all it answered the question of why we go to the movies in the first place. And yes, we will go again.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford likes things that are original. 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.

On Beyond Omicron

Whether you create a new product or a new kid, one of the most consequential things you can do is give it a name. Almost as much as appearance, the moniker by which something goes helps to set an image and impression on the very first encounter. Even though it has nice alliteration, you're likely to think twice about trying Poopsie's Popsicles. And no matter how cute he is as a baby and the literary heritage the name boasts, it may take till adulthood until a kid called Atticus stops getting beaten up.

For certain other inanimate objects, the name itself matters less than the fact that it has one. We don't inherently bestow affection or distaste on a hurricane named "Sally" unless it aims a direct hit on our house. But having a name in the first place does enable us non-meteorologists to easily identify and discuss a given storm, and not get it confused with "2021 Tropical Depression 37." For that reason in 2012 the Weather Channel started naming winter storms, and there is a recent movement from Europe to California to name heat waves. 

That same reasoning applies to the bug which has disrupted our world. While scientists may prefer the more scientifically technical name of "severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2" or SARS-CoV-2, that doesn't really roll off the tongue for civilians. And so the World Health Organization settled on "Coronavirus Disease of 2019" or COVID-19 for short. Even that wasn't short enough for most, and so unless you are trying to make a political point, you likely just call it COVID. Could have been worse: with our penchant for dropping letters (think Flickr, MGMT and Thx) you could have been infected with COD.

As the virus changed and spread, it became necessary to communicate those variations and their effects in a way that those without a PhD in biochemistry could follow. And so the WHO convened a committee to explore naming options. Their initial plan was to create a bunch of two-syllable names that aren't words, or portmanteaus. But some investigating showed too many were already in use, like frenemy (friend/enemy) or Brangelina (Brad/Angelina). Expanding that to three or four syllables made the prospective names too unwieldy, and Greek gods and goddesses became too personal. Even just simple numbering was nixed, as it looked to generate more confusion: variation B-1.63.1 might wind up being the same as COVID-19-7.1.

Eventually they settled on Greek letters as a way of both simplifying the task and stripping some of the stigma from the emergence of new variants. The thinking was that a country might be more willing to cooperate and accurately report a new mutation if they knew their name wouldn't be attached to it. And so rather than getting the "German variant" they would call it Tau or Kappa. That way only a few fraternities or sororities might get insulted. 

Even that hopefully neutral approach necessitated caution. The organization takes each new variant in alphabetical order, and names it even if turns out not to be a significant threat. So Alpha, Beta and Gamma were assigned to variations B.1.1.7, B.1351 and P.1 respectively before we got to B.1.617.2, which was coded as Delta. As they continued on the next big threat turned out to be B.1.1.529, and the letter "Nu" was at the ready. However, they skipped that as it could too easily be confused with "new." That brought them to "Xi," which was skipped because it was a common family name, including that of the president of China. And that brought us to current hot button of Omicron.

And now they are taking a detour. The latest identified strain turns out to be a mashup of two existing versions of Omicron, the original BA.1 and the new BA.2 varietal. So rather than increment the letter, they have dubbed it Omicron XE, which only means it will be confused with a new Lexus.

Even with that offshoot, the nearly continuous mutations likely means they will run out of letters sooner rather than later. The WHO has said that when that happens they will institute a new system, as yet unannounced. Suggestions are welcome. Fruits? Movie villains? Insects? TBD, but there is a possibility that someday you could get a booster to protect you from Darth Vader.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford doesn't have a nickname. 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.

This or That?

When we come across anything new or old, there are two basic questions we ask ourselves. First: "Will it harm me? Is it dangerous?" If the answer is negative (and sometimes even if it's not) we move on to question number two: "What do I do with it? Do I eat/ride/touch/pocket/poke/climb/take/leave it?" The answer to the second question is based on our personal experiences with what appear to be similar objects. If it looks like a kitten, we pet it because we have petted others like it. If it looks appetizing, we eat it because we have eaten other things like it. Sometimes we're right and it turns out to be cute or delicious. Other times we it spits at us or we spit it out. In either case we add the result to our mental cataloging system for the next close encounter.

This personal hierarchy is in addition to the myriad of classification systems that exist in every walk of life. These help us make sense of the world, be they computers or animals, cars or toothpaste, clothing or cheeses. Some are based on formal, scientific approaches to the elements in the group, like taxonomy for living things or the Dewey Decimal system for books. Some are far simpler: cookies can be homemade or store-bought, movies can be for kids or adults, plants can be indoor or outdoor. These and others like them are more informal, less rigid and can be open to interpretation. You likely have a summer wardrobe and a winter one, but on a cold spring eve you might reach back and grab a sweatshirt that is nestled with your fleeces and sweaters. Is Little Nas X country, rap or pop? The answer is yes.

Which brings me to my conundrum.

I volunteer my time at a local food pantry helping to stock shelves and put away incoming deliveries and donations. In most cases it's pretty self-explanatory: the pasta goes in one place, the cereal in another. From a classification standpoint, I have a pretty good idea of what goes where based on personal experience and accumulated knowledge. If a jar is Jif or Skippy, crunchy or smooth, it goes on the peanut butter shelf. We get the occasional donation of almond butter or peanut butter powder, but we park those next to their close siblings and let those selecting the food make the call for themselves. Likewise for canned meats, be it tuna or chicken. The occasional can of Vienna sausage causes nary a ripple in the operation, and finds its rightful home next to the Bumble Bee and Starkist.

And then there's ramen. The staple of college students and single folks of all ages, this Japanese mainstay comes in a variety of flavors and forms. While it's base is a broth, it also has noodles, meats and vegetables. Just add boiling water, and you have lunch or dinner or a midnight snack. Bet that takes you back to the dorm just thinking about it.

In addition to the aforementioned divisions at the pantry, there are numerous others, including a place for complete meals, another for soups. The former hosts canned beef stew and macaroni and cheese, the latter minestrone and vegetable. And here's the riddle: some days I find ramen in the one, other times in the other.  On a purely technical basis it probably wants to live with the chowders and the bisques. Yet on a practical level it would be just as home with the SpaghettiOs and the Dinty Moore. There is rarely enough for a constant supply, so it often runs out often without leaving a trail. The next person to stock the shelf with a new batch (many times me) has to make the call, which can vary shift to shift. It's important to note that neither answer is more correct, both persuasions seem to coexist with very little strife, and all who work there are very adaptable. Perhaps a lesson for life in general.

So what say you: soup or meal? A case can be made for both, and I promise not to think differently about you based on your response. Now, as long as we're on the subject: canned potatoes. Do they go with the peas and carrots? Or put them next to the rice and pasta? And you thought this would be easy.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford finds challenges in the unlikeliest of places. 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.

Taking Measure

There's an old maxim for anything you are creating, building or repairing: measure twice, cut once. That's because the cheapest thing to do is to stretch a tape repeatedly, as opposed to hacking a piece of wood, fabric or metal too short, and then throwing it out or patching the final result. That works fine for things in front of you, be it shelves or clothing or cabinets. But what if you are designing for things not in your immediate orbit, perhaps a new appliance or piece of furniture? Then you have to rely on the specifications of the manufacturer for the size. And if it's something non-standard like a person or animal?  Then it's a guess, relying on experience or anecdotal information. Or you can point your browser to Dimensions.com.

The baby of architect Bryan Maddock, the web site started as a passion project based on his needs. He was having a hard time sourcing measurements for a project, and wondered why, with all the information that is available online, there was no central repository of common objects and their dimensions. And so he started to compile one. In addition to measurements of length, width and depth, he included drawings of both 2D and 3D files in industry standard formats. He made it open to any and all, or as he put it, "architects, interior architects/designers, artists, graphic designers, illustrators, game designers, UX designers, and anyone generally curious about the world."

In the beginning Maddock did all the work himself. As a teacher at Arizona State University and proprietor of his own architectural studio called Fantastic Offense, he squeezed it in between classes and commissions. "When the database first started I brainstormed the top 300 or so pieces of dimensional information that are commonly needed by designers and architects. Once those were done it was clear that the endeavor was a Pandora's box of sorts." Since that beginning in 2019 it has grown to "around 7000 unique topics on the site with an equal amount pre-planned and being researched behind the curtain." To keep up with demand he has a growing team of researchers and designers, as well as financial support via advertising and subscriptions.

As the site has grown, it has added information to entries, making it more than a "just the facts, ma'am" spreadsheet. For loveseats, in addition to standard sizes, it notes that they were "not invented to seat couples or lovers together. Rather, the original intent was to give women more room to sit in their large and lavish dresses." For BBQ Grills, it includes notes on how you clean them. And the entry on Beer Pong has not only the official measurements (yes, there are official measurements) but also a description of the types of shots you can make.

As evidenced by that last mention, the site's subjects go well beyond what you might expect to find in what started out as an architectural reference. Building on Maddock's comment that "I'm a person who is genuinely interested in everything," he said that he wanted to keep the content as accessible and entertaining as possible. And so you can find measurements and drawings for dolphins and wire hangers, a 1976 Ford F-150 pickup and a badminton shuttlecock, an Apple Watch Series 1 and the actress Gal Gadot. Each entry has drawings from several angles, relevant dimensions (the IKEA Intressant Spice Mill has an overall height of 10.75"/27.3 cm and diameter of 2.75"/7 cm), and additional factual points of interest (Prime Minister of Canada Justin Trudeau has a tattoo of Earth on his left shoulder). 

I asked Maddock what was the most surprising thing he discovered as part of the project. "Everything is related. I entered the project with the mentality of an architect and visual thinker, but most of my day to day is building exhaustive spreadsheets of how to categorize and organize everything in the world." And as to his ultimate goal? While not aspiring to be Wikipedia, he says the site has evolved and will continue to do so as more users have gotten involved and offered input. Or as he put it, "If aliens were to come across Dimensions, I'd hope they'd also have fun trying to piece together and appreciate the diversity of things that exist/existed on this planet."

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Marc Wollin of Bedford likes things to make sense. 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.

Less is Less

At this point we've all experienced the increase in the prices of virtually everything. While most noticeable at the pump and the grocery store, you see similar situations in almost every item, be it cars, toothpaste or gardening supplies. The causes are numerous, from internal policy decisions to supply chain issues to the war in Europe. If there's any consolation, it's that the rates on these shores are modest compared to some others. That's said, it hardly lessens the blow to note that our annual inflation rate of close to 8% pales next to Argentina's 52%, Turkey's 54% or Venezuela's eye-popping 340%.

In some cases companies have no choice but to increase the final retail price that the consumer pays. The most noticeable involves oil: as the raw material costs more, refiners pay more to purchase it and turn into the stuff that goes into your tank. There is no way to hide that increase: a gallon of gas is a gallon of gas, period. You can't make it look bigger, prettier or add some cheap trimmings that make it appear worth more than it is. The consumer sees the simplest of equations, this for that. And when it costs more this for the same that, they ain't happy.

However, not all goods have the same problem. That's not to say that manufacturers of other goods don't have to increase their prices to cope with the higher costs of the raw materials, then processing them into finished goods. It's just that there are ways of camouflaging that increase with a little sleight of hand. After all, any magician will tell you that the key to many a good trick is misdirection: look over here while I actually perform the switch over there. In the case of consumer goods it involves repackaging the products in subtle ways so as to be able to keep the price the same. The hope is that you don't notice the change, a concept that has come to be known as shrinkflation. 

No one knows when it actually started, but the most convenient marker is 1987. The story goes that CEO Robert Crandall of American Airlines came up with the idea of taking one olive out of every salad that was served to first class passengers. Who could possibly miss that? Yet, calculations are that doing so saved the company $40,000 a year, and no one in the forward cabin was the wiser. Likewise, Northwest Airlines started cutting the limes they used for their drink service into 16 pieces as opposed to 10. That little bit of extra knife work reportedly resulted in savings of $500,00 in their fresh fruit budget.

These days a walk down the supermarket aisle finds similar nips and tucks. The result is smaller packages with prices that not too long ago were found on larger ones. In some cases, the packaging is only slightly trimmed but otherwise the same. Unless you put an old container of Sun-Maid Raisins (22.58 ounces) back-to-back with the new one (20 ounces), you'd be unlikely to notice a difference. The same goes for Dove Body Wash (24 ounces to 22), Charmin Toilet Paper (264 sheets to 244 sheets) or Chobani Peach Cobbler Greek Yogurt (5.3 ounces to 4.5). In other cases they restyle the container as a benefit, as when Gatorade made theirs more “streamlined and holdable” to mask the fact that it went from holding 32 fluid ounces to 28. And in another case you'll have to have fewer kids as the Family Size bag of Keebler Chips Deluxe cookies went from 17.2 ounces to 14.6. Sorry, Junior, none for you. 

The latest to make the move is Doritos. Frito-Lay, the snack's parent company, say they took about 5 chips out per bag, resulting in a package that weighs 9.25 ounces instead of 9.75. Who would notice 5 chips? Well, the accountants do. Estimates are that they will save about $50 million by cutting down on the number in each bag.

The list is of products that have shrunk is endless: Pringles potato chips, Crest toothpaste, Wheat Thins crackers. The only place it could play in your favor is at Christmas. For once it's a good time to be naughty: with coal prices up, Sana won't be able to stuff as much into your stocking.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford will pay whatever it costs for chunky Skippy. 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.