Over Looking

Because you can't direct your hearing, no one faults you if you happen to overhear a conversation. Personal and professional, embarrassing and mundane, we all sponge up snippets of other's trials and tribulations as we wander about, be it standing next to people on a line, sitting adjacent to them on the train or walking behind them down the street. It's an occurrence made more common by the advent of cell phones and earbuds. People think they are immersed in a call that only they can hear, and so they talk louder and with less reserve. Whether you want to or not, you become privy to pleading with children, cheating boyfriends and gross medical issues.

Do so with your eyes, however, and aspirations are cast. Because you can look away it is assumed that you will. If you don't avert your gaze are you peeping? Nosy? Spying? What if the person insists on using a 40 point font in their text app, and is shoulder to shoulder with you on an airplane? In my case it was a flight to Florida, midday and midweek, no holiday in sight, just normal people doing normal things: business meetings to attend, family to see, an escape from the cold for a few days. In that situation are you a snoop if you can't help it, and would have to shut your eyes not to see? 

Let's say you (by that I mean me) does snatch a glance: what are you jumping into? Let's face it: most of us lead pretty ordinary, or perish the thought, even boring existences. Sure, there might be the odd bit of drama with a sibling or coworker, something relatively trivial: a forgotten birthday, a stapler not returned, an anecdote appropriated as one's own. But the stuff of prime time, such as deceit, double dealing, back stabbing? That level of dysfunction or intrigue is far more likely on Netflix or HBO. Or is it?

"As you know Harry is a vindictive person who can't be trusted." That was the line that jumped off the phone in my eyeline. Just a moment before the woman in the middle seat next to me was nibbling bits of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich she took out of her bag and was playing solitaire. That wasn't surprising, as flying used to be one of the few respites where we all got away from the near constant vibrating and pinging that dictates our everyday existence. But because this was JetBlue, everyone had free Wi-Fi, and was jacked in. And so even at 35,000 feet, there was no escaping texts or emails. Moments before I had seen a note pop up on her screen about her father being in the hospital and her flying down to check on him. Boring. 

But this? The great director Alfred Hitchcock used to talk of ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances. And with no context or back story this could go either way. Since I wasn't staring at her phone, I only caught bits, and so I wondered: just how vindictive was Harry? Turns out very: "he has a grudge against my brothers and me." The next time I glanced over: "He has an inability to run the company." Which was this: ordinary or extraordinary?

The next sighting was most assuredly the first: "Have to reschedule the dog's grooming session." I read my book a bit, then shifted and looked again. More everyday: "Thanks for being with dad." But then the other storyline: "He might do anything, he's done it before." What? Steal? Lie? Violence? I had no idea what Harry was capable of. Then just as quickly: "The flowers were lovely." How sweet. Or was that code for something far more dastardly?

So Jill or Anna or Jennifer or whomever you are that sat next to me: apologies for over looking. I hope your dad is OK and that you find a convenient time to reschedule Queenies blowout. As for the texts, maybe I'm just reading too many books or watching too many shows where the unusual trumps the mundane. Looking at it one way, if you're locked in a high-stakes takeover battle, I hope that Harry is unarmed. But if he's just an annoying cousin, then good luck with the appliance repair business or whatever. In the meantime, the black nine goes on the red ten in third column. 

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford keeps his ears and eyes open. His column appears weekly via email and online on Substack and Blogspot as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

Are You Blue?

The color of love? Red. The color of caution? Yellow. Purple connotes royalty, orange conveys vitality, while white is virginal and pure. And green is either the color of renewal and wealth, growth and the environment or, if you are of certain political persuasion, a political scam that will destroy the world.

As to blue, it's cool in attitude and temperature, as well as indicating reliability, stability and intelligence. Somewhat paradoxically it can also indicate sadness or depression, and even has a whole genre of music named after it. And because that was the color of the highlighters that a bunch of researchers had 20 years ago, it's now also associated with longevity.

It started with demographic work begun in 1999 and refined in 2004 by medical doctor Gianni Pes and demographer Michel Poulain. They noted that one particular area of Sardinia had a higher incidence than surrounding regions of centenarians, or people living to more than 100, and circled it in blue ink.  Working with author Dan Buettner, they published their findings in a 2005 National Geographic article entitled "The Secrets of a Long Life." In it, they identified Okinawa, Japan and Loma Linda, California as two other areas that shared this trait. Since then they've added Nicoya, Costa Rica and Ikaria, Greece as places with significantly higher concentrations of very oldsters. Circle each, and you get the Blue Zones.

The obvious question: what do the people within these regions have in common? To be sure, the researchers note that you have to start by winning the "genetic lottery" and be lucky to not get some major disease. But they also note that, per the Danish Twin Study, the world's largest twin registry and research project of its kind, only about 20% of how long the average person lives is determined by genes. The rest is more about lifestyle and environment than who your parents were. According to Buettner, by "reverse engineering longevity" they boiled it down to nine items that seem to make a difference. 

It started with movement. The people in these localities had routines in which their day-to-day lives embraced physical activity. They also had purpose. The researchers said that "knowing your sense of purpose is worth up to seven years of extra life expectancy." In each place there was also some custom to help people shed stress. In Greece they took naps, while in Sardinia they had happy hour. 

Unsurprisingly, what and how they ate played a part as well. All had diets skewed towards plants, especially those with lots of nutrients. People ate to not feel hungry, as opposed to feeling full. And residents of all but one zone (a religious community) drank alcohol moderately and regularly. The takeaway on that? One to two glasses per day is fine; 14 drinks on Saturday night is not.

The last three characteristics were about the social arrangements beyond the individual. All but five of the 263 centenarians were part of some kind of faith-based community. They were also very focused on their families, from keeping aging parents nearby, to taking a life partner, to investing time in their children. And finally they lived in groups and social circles that shared their values and supported healthy living habits. 

Various municipalities are jumping on the bandwagon, trying to see if they can replicate these results by encouraging their residents to adopt blue zone habits. That means redesigning their environment to promote walking as well as encourage other physical activities. In Albert Lea, MN, after just one year of healthy living initiatives, participants added an estimated 2.9 years to their average lifespan, while health care costs dropped by 49%. Other communities that have embraced some aspects of the nine include Forth Worth, Texas, the "Beach Cities" of Hermosa, Manhattan and Redondo in California, and Naples and Marco Island in Florida.

Neither Sardinia nor Forth Worth nor the people in them have a patent on any of these aspects of life. Indeed, they don't have to be done as a set. You can take a nap when you feel stressed out, or join a church or synagogue or mosque. You can walk up the stairs at the airport versus taking the escalator. Have that glass of wine (just one), and call your parents or kids. And don't ask for another helping of mashed potatoes; good on the potato though, and even better if it's a sweet one.

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford walks, tries to eat well, takes naps, and is working on the other stuff. His column appears weekly via email and online on Substack and Blogspot as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

Peace, Love and Chocolate Redux

It is a point of pride for me that I never republish a column, that I try every week to present you with a new idea, outlook or discovery. But on this, the first anniversary of my mom’s passing, I’ve been thinking about her a lot, and hope you will forgive me just this once for reprising that one particular essay.

____________________________

In an interview, the actor Javier Bardem talked about how his faith came from his mother, who had passed away several years before. He said he was very close to her and noted, “When both your parents die, and especially when your mother dies, you do go to a different level of orphanage. Like, ‘OK, now really I’m on my own.’”

Well, this week I feel like I am truly on my own, as my mother Nan has passed away.

Two weeks ago she had a small stroke, but seemed to be bouncing back from some loss of mobility and slurred speech. Indeed, we were talking with the staff about when we could move her back into her apartment from the rehab unit and continue her treatment as an outpatient. But then came a second, larger stroke, one that paralyzed one side and left her unable to speak or swallow. The doctors determined that there was nothing they could do, and we all agreed that, in accordance with her wishes, she should be transferred out of the hospital and back to her home. She lasted 5 days, and slipped away peacefully with my sister and I on either side talking with her and holding her hand.

A vibrant woman of 94, she had been doing pretty well even if she was slowing down. After my father died 17 years ago she moved into a senior community, first into a self-standing cottage on the grounds, then into an apartment in the main building. There she went to lectures and performances and meals, making new friends and buddies. Her apartment was in the wing farthest from the in-house Bistro, and what should have been a 10-minute walk always took 20, as she stopped to talk with every person she passed, residents and staff alike. About a year ago she moved into the facility’s assisted living center, where she became an active member of that community as well, winning an award for “Best Red Lipstick.”

The woman was a born teacher. While she taught almost every elementary grade, she was most at home in the second grade. In that capacity she taught countless kids to add, subtract, read and color. After a 40+ year career of full-time teaching she substituted for years, eventually working at the local hospital education center, where she taught endless school field trips, and was proud to be named Volunteer of the Month. Whenever she saw a child she would bend down and talk to them, engaging them with a smile and a question, asking them to tell her about whatever was in their hand.

Of course, she had her shortcomings. She couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, couldn’t park a car between the lines and could barely tell a joke. Technology was a mystery to her: when I was a kid and was transferring a record to tape she came into my room and when I started to talk she went “SHHHHHH... we have to be quiet!” We had an old VW Beetle, and she could never find reverse on the stick shift: the one time we parked head in at the 7-Eleven we had to have people push us out. More recently we got her an iPad, but it kept hanging up. When I looked at it she had 27 tabs open: “I don’t know how to close them,” she said. And she was not creative in any way save for one example of brilliance: when she got a new dog after my dad died she named her MADJ. The initials stood for the first names of each of her grandchildren.

Her strong suits? She could teach any child, eat any milk chocolate, love any puppy, talk to any person, make anyone feel special, eat an entire serving of sweet potato fries, welcome anyone into her home, wear anything with sparkles unironically, and love my father and her family unconditionally. When my dad died, I wrote a column which noted that, as he was not a famous man, there would be no parades in his honor. My mother, however, had the foresight to pass so that her funeral fell on Mardi Gras. I choose to think that all that hoopla was in some way a tribute to her.

For us, my mom was the last of her generation. She outlasted most of her close friends from her teaching years, as well as all my aunts and uncles. I have always felt that in life I was on a conveyor belt, with people before me and others coming up behind. She was the last one leading the way, protecting me and looking out for me, and now I am in front.

As Mr. Bardem said, that’s a little scary, but I’m good with it. That’s because I couldn’t have had a better teacher. Yes, like all those other kids, she helped teach me to read and write, to tie my shoes and button my coat, to brush my teeth and put on my socks. But she taught me so much more about kindness and helping, about loving and caring, about smiling and forgiving. And she taught me by her own personal mantra, the way she signed off every phone call or written note, and it’s how I will remember her forever: “peace, love, and chocolate.”

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford promises to keep trying to make his mom proud. His column appears weekly via email and online on Substack and Blogspot as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

Buckle Up

There's the lush 1936 George Cukor film, the 1968 Franco Zeffirelli version with actual teenagers in the leads, and the 1996 Baz Luhrman one replacing swords with guns. Then there're the multitude of outings from "West Side Story" to "The Lion King II: Simba's Pride" which follow the original story line, while taking generous liberties with the details. Each is an adaptation of Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet," probably the most replicated script in all of literature. 

Yet, another well-known text that has likely suffered through more iterations. Just 500 to 700 words long, it has been filmed by some estimates 3000 to 5000 times. You've likely sat through quite a few of those, though your attention might have been wandering. As for me, between trips to and from Spain and the west coast, it's been 7 times in the last 3 weeks. But even if you don't rate Super Gold Deluxo status on any carrier, you likely know chapter and verse of the preflight safety video.

It was in 1984 that FAA gave its blessing to prerecorded tape as the medium for the mandatory briefing. In some respects regulators thought that it was actually a better option than a live recitation, as they could be more consistent and standardized, as well as customized for each type of aircraft. And so as entertainment systems on planes became standard, videos became the preferred method to inform passengers about seatbelts, tray tables and the rest.

Eventually the airlines came to see them as a marketing opportunity as much as safety instruction. After all, you had a captive audience that was admonished to pay attention: in the advertising world that's a layup. And so an arms race started, with each carrier imparting their own unique spin on that most standardized of scripts. 

There have been animated versions (Delta, British Air, Emirates) and dance versions (Air India, Qatar Airways, EVA), ones with characters from Middle Earth (Air New Zealand) and ones with characters from cartoons (United, ANA, Turkish Airlines).  The aim is not just those sitting on the plane, but those away from it. British Airways' 2024 version, "May We Haveth One's Attention," is told with marauding hoards that buckle the seatbelts on their horses, and Regency England types straight out of "Bridgerton" struggling with oxygen masks. Directed by Sharon Maguire ("Bridget Jones's Diary") with costumes from three-time Oscar winner Jenny Beavan ("A Room With A View"), it has nearly 2 million views on YouTube.

All of this begs the question: do any of these make the information more impactful or memorable? Nope. Research shows that while they excel at capturing initial attention, they fail at teaching passengers how to survive an emergency. In a University of New South Wales study, those who watched a "standard" briefing recalled 53% of the safety information. In contrast, those who watched a humorous version recalled only 35%, while those who watched a movie-themed video recalled 47%. And a Penn State University study showed those who watch versions with "tourism content" were 11% less likely to correctly answer a quiz on safety procedures. 

Perhaps the one you should watch before taking off is the one from Doug Lansky, an American travel writer based in Sweden. He created an "Honest Pre-flight Safety Demonstration Video." It includes such nuggets as "80% of accidents happen within the first three minutes and last eight minutes of the flight, so that's when it would be wise to keep your shoes on." He advises you to "look at your seat belt. I know you all know how to use it. But it's common for people in emergencies to try to open that thing by pressing a button that's not actually there, like the seatbelt on your car." And he notes "the biggest danger is actually that the luggage in the overhead compartment will fall out. There are actually several thousand reported injuries from this every year, while the FAA only reports 58 or so serious injuries from turbulence. One could easily make the case that we should be handing out helmets and skip the seatbelts." 

So the next time you take off, enjoy the briefing. Laugh at the gnomes with tray tables. Enjoy the beautiful mountain pass with exit path lighting. Marvel how the dancers slide into their inflatable vests. But once they're done and the flight crew sits down, make sure to keep your shoes on until you reach cruising altitude.

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford flies more than he might like. His column appears weekly via email and online on Substack and Blogspot as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

Stormy (Space) Weather

 "It is what it is" has become our mantra when traveling on vacation. No matter how much planning we do regarding modes of transportation or reservations for dinner or tickets to events, we can only do so much. After that, fate will do with us what it will. And in the interest of trying to enjoy the experience, we try not to get too caught up when things don't go as planned. 

That meant that on our most recent trip to Andalusia we rolled with a closed restaurant where we had a confirmed reservation, as well as a cancelled train we had to reschedule, both with a minimum of fuss. Admittedly we (and read that as "me") are not always so sanguine. When both foot entrances we tried to the Alhambra palace in Granada were closed due to high winds, and we had to summon an Uber and race to another lest we lose our tour slot procured 3 months in advance, I stood on the sidewalk howling at the universe. It was not pretty.

Nowhere is this mantra more appropriate than with the weather. For most of us, we plan vacation or holiday trips fairly far in advance, As such we have only a general sense of what the weather might be when we finally arrive: it's summer or winter, the rainy season or dry. But regardless of what the historical record might be, the story might be totally different when we finally step off the plane. In southern Spain at this time of year it was supposed to be mid 50's and 60's with a little rain mixed in. It was our misfortune for it be a bit colder and wetter, so much so that the locals were as surprised as us. Thankfully we were prepared, with rain jackets, umbrellas and waterproof shoes. The result is that we didn't need to change any of our plans in a major way, other than to sit out a short cloudburst with an extra glass of wine. It is what it is. 

Turns out, however, there was another storm happening we didn't even know about. The weather we're all familiar with is of the terrestrial variety, i.e. the stuff happening on the surface of this is planet. It seems that there was another whole system scrolling far above our heads, which was in some respects more potentially disruptive than the rain we tried to dodge. According to a post by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, on January 18 an X1.9-class solar flare erupted, sending a burst of X-rays toward Earth, which was followed by an S4 Severe Solar Radiation Storm, the most intense radiation storm since 2003. The result was that just as we got on the plane to head to Seville a Coronal Mass Ejection (CME) hit Earth's magnetic field much faster than expected, traveling at roughly 1,700 km/s. This triggered a G4 Severe Geomagnetic Storm.  Talk about a headwind.

While that didn't soak our shoes or turn our umbrellas inside or out, it might have had other effects that we didn't even realize. These include rerouting flights to avoid high radiation levels for travelers, and satellite noise creating mapping and GPS disruptions. We landed in Seville on time, so have to assume that the airline was able to compensate for it. Indeed, in a similar storm back in November there was a blackout for about an hour on certain radio frequencies, and the Starlink system suffered increased losses as the orbits decayed on some satellites causing them to burn up in the atmosphere. So I guess arriving on time and in the right place was not a given.

All this heavenly activity is on the downside of the so called "Solar Maximum."  This 11-year cycle of solar activity peaked in mid-2025. However, scientists say that the two to three years following the maximum are often when the most complex and damaging solar storms occur, as the Sun's magnetic field is currently in the messy process of settling down.

As our world is ever more dependent on electronics, the internet and connectivity, it would seem that going forward we should all take this cycle into account in the same way we check whether we need to take an umbrella. The years 2029-2032 look to be quiet years, while the next peak is projected to be around 2035. So get your heavy ChatGPT usage in now while it's calm, and aim to curl up inside with a good book next decade. The analog kind.

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford hates to let rain slow him down. His column appears weekly via email and online on Substack and Blogspot as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

Win, Win, Win

If you're a sports fan you're in heaven these weeks. We've just wrapped up the Australian Open in tennis and the Super Bowl in American football. Depending on when you read this maybe you're settling in for the NBA All Star Game in basketball, not to mention the mother lode of winter sports that is the Winter Olympics. If you want to root for a team or individual to win a crown by hitting, hooping, running or sliding, you're in luck.

While there is certainly crossover if you watch more than one event, you're hardly alone: we're talking a huge amount of eyeballs. The Olympics alone garners some 2 billion viewers globally, with the Australian Open close behind. While the Super Bowl dominates in the US, its global reach is a good bit smaller though still sizable. And were it in any other playing field the NBA's 5 million viewers would be significant, though it's tiny in this context. Still, add them all up, and across the globe we're talking a rough total of 4.1 billion people cheering someone or something on.

That doesn't mean that all the other championships in other contests are standing on the sidelines. It's just there are only so many minutes of airtime and column inches in the sports report or section. And so you have to dig a little deeper to find out the exploits of England's Judd Trump (snooker) or the Dragons of Wales (rugby) or Philippines OG's (esports) as they compete with the best in the world for their respective cups.

Let's start on the other side of the globe at the Badminton Asia Team Championships. This is not your backyard version of the sport, with pros routinely smashing the shuttlecock (you called it a birdie as a kid) at speeds over 200 miles per hour; the record is 351 mph. In the finals last weekend Japan won their first men's title stunning last year's winner China, while the South Korea women shutout their Chinese counterparts by three to zip.

Meanwhile, the ICC men's T20 Cricket World Cup is in it's first week, with matches being hosted by India and Sri Lanka. Twenty teams are playing a total of 55 matches, including Italy making its tournament debut. All eyes are on Group A, the so called "Group of Death" featuring heavyweights India and Pakistan alongside the Netherlands, USA, and Namibia. India enters as the #1 ranked team, having won 33 of their last 41 T20 matches, and features Abhishek Sharma as the tournament's top-ranked batter, with a 2025 season average of 42.95 and a strike rate near 200. (My good friend Nana, a cricket fanatic, may be one of the few reading this who understands just how good that really is.)

And in Paris they are heading into the finals this weekend for the Rainbow Six Siege World Championship. RSS is one of the games in the world of esports, this one developed by Ubisoft. A tactical first-person shooter game, it's described as different from "run-and-gun" games like Call of Duty, being much more of a "chess match with guns." In these 5 vs. 5 matches one team defends an objective (like a bomb or a hostage) inside a building, and the other team tries to infiltrate and neutralize them. Top contenders include the FaZe Clan team which is based in Brazil. They are looking to repeat as winners and take home the $1 million prize. 

To be sure congratulations are due to Carlos Alcaraz, the Seattle Seahawks and Swiss skier Franjo von Allmen for taking the first gold at the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milan-Cortina. But let's not forget to offer kudos to Switzerland's Lisa Bauman for capturing the cup in Châtel, France at the UCI Snow Bike World Championships. Bauman beat out France's Vicky Clavel in the Women's Elite Super G, a sort of downhill ski race on a bike, with a time of 1:58.270. And while the aforementioned Judd Trump got snookered this time by getting knocked out in the first round, Zhao Xintong of China triumphed over his countryman Zhang Anda by 10 to 6 at the 2026 World Grand Prix of snooker in Hong Kong. As for the T20, Nana, just keep cheering that Team Blue will be in the finals come March 8: "Jeetega Bhai Jeetega, India Jeetega!" 

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford doesn't' follow any particular sport. His column appears weekly via email and online on Substack and Blogspot as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

Know Me? Know You!

Not a day goes by that I don't have a suspect phishing email in my inbox. While most get snagged by the built in filters and wind up in the Junk folder, invariably one or two make their way through. Usually it's because sometime in the past I had interaction with a site or service, but gave up on them long ago. Subsequently they were hacked, their client info hit the dark web, and my identity fell into the hands of a scam center in Cambodia.

The approach from them is usually in the form of a ham-handed strong arm. It might threaten to delete all my photos if I don't contact them to update my account. Or freeze my credit card if I don't confirm my phone number. Maybe cancel my auto insurance if I won't verify my bank information. The tells that these are bogus are numerous: weird fonts, misspellings and old email addresses are the most obvious. That, plus the fact that the return email from PicturePerfect.com is bradxx720467@rus.ex Not suspicious at all. They all get deleted without a second thought.

Experts tell us that that level of suspicion and caution is good, the correct way to view any email that we have concerns about. But it raises the question: if we view everything as a potential fake, how do we know if it's real? That was the issue I encountered when I got an email from my bank.

Or was it? It had a real-looking header and logo, along with a reference to the last four digits of one account. It said that they needed to talk with me to clear up some information, and provided a long reference code that started with "KYC, " as well as a phone number. I had two weeks to call, or else they'd have to restrict my account. Couldn't sound more scammy if it tried, so I deleted it without a second thought.

A week later a strange number popped up on my phone and I let it go to voicemail. The message in a foreign sounding voice reiterated the same request and provided the same information. Hmmmmm. A single scammer by email or phone is hardly unusual, but twice with the same info? Might it be real? Some online research was hardly conclusive, with half the people saying it was a scam, half saying it was legit. Even our vaunted AI helpers said the same: "It is highly recommended that you treat this as a potential phishing attempt, even if the number appears to be from your bank. Scammers can make their caller ID show any number, including official bank lines, and a 'KYC update' is a common pretext for scammers to ask for sensitive data."

Still. I decided to check by calling not the number provided, but the one on the back of my ATM card. The person on the other end asked how he could help. I told him I had no idea, they had reached out to me. He said he would check, but needed to verify my info. But now we had a sort of "Mexican standoff." Even though I was the one who had called, I was leery of giving him anything, and he couldn't help me until I did. I told him that they had my email, my phone and the last four digits of the account in question, so work with that. He suggested he text me a code, and if I read that back he could verify me. That worked, and so we were "in."

There was nothing flagged on my account, and so he transferred me to another department for more help. That associate also saw nothing. But when I read out the reference code, she jumped in: "You said KYC, correct?" Turns out that means "Know Your Customer," a regulatory framework whereby financial institutions need to verify account info to guard against money laundering and the like. Eventually I got to those folks, who reviewed my info, found no major issues, and bid me good day.

It all begs the question: how do we know anybody? What proof is there that we are we, and they are them? In 1993 The New Yorker published Peter Steiner's famous cartoon with the caption "On the Internet, nobody knows you're a dog." Turns out that these days it's not so easy to know if you're a bank either.

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford tries to keep his info safe. His column appears weekly via email and online on Substack and Blogspot as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

Penny Profits

There a very few risk-free, fool-proof ways to make money. You can try investing in the stock market or flip homes or start a business, but you have to hope that when it's time to cash out you are on the winning side of the equation. The really smart money only invests in sure things, conditions where there is no risk, just reward. But those situations are few and far between.

One of the only proven methods of that is arbitrage. It means finding an asset where the price is different in two different places at the same time. You buy in one market on the cheap, and then sell on the other for the premium. Assuming the transaction costs are less than that spread, you've locked in a profit. Usually that differential is small, and so you have to replicate the transaction in large quantities to make any substantial gains. But the big boys and girls do just that, buying gold or grain or shares in Asia, and then selling them in Europe for a fraction of a fraction of a cent higher. Multiply that action over and over, and you can be talking serious change.

To make that work you need several things: capital, access to multiple markets, plus accurate information that shows that price imbalance. And because markets are generally efficient, and sees those gaps and eliminates them, you have to be able to act quickly before the hole closes. All of that means that arbitrage is generally practiced only by professionals.

Until now. While we will have to start small, the rest of us might now have a shot at joining that club, thanks to a change by the US Mint. In November, in a move designed to save costs, the government stopped producing pennies. Quaint and historic as they are, each one cent was costing three or four to produce. And since fewer than one in five payments are made in cash, most of those coins sit in jars in closets. They are still legal tender, just not in widespread use.

That means that many stores struggle to keep them in stock, among them the grocery store chain ShopRite. And so they announced a new policy. If you pay with cash, they will round up or round down the amount to the nearest nickel. So if the total ends in 1 or 2 cents they will round it to 0. If it's 6 or 7, they will round it to 5. Going the other way, if it's 3 or 4, or 8 or 9, they will round up. So you get a discount at bottom and are charged a premium at the top. In theory, over time it will all average out.

But here's the opportunity. Looking at this week's sale circular, Polly-O Mozzarella is going for $5.77. Buy it for cash, and they charge you $5.75. That means you can now sell it to another lasagna-making customer paying with a credit card at the store price of $5.77, and you've made 2 cents. Same for a Built Cookie Dough Chunk Protein Bar at $1.67. The store will charge you cash price of $1.65, and you can flip it to the next snacker swiping their card for 2 cents profit. 

Note that there is nothing illegal here. No price gouging. No market cornering. No bait and switch. You are offering the same product at the published price. This is just like what Blackstone or Merrill Lynch or Citibank does. They just do it with millions of dollars in worldwide markets with state-of-the-art computer trading systems and floors full of skilled professionals to make it happen. You likely have slightly less resources at hand. 

Whether your reference is a New York State lottery ad campaign or the J Cole song, all you need is a dollar (actually $1.65) and a dream and off you go. True, you'll need to turn a lot of cheese to make a go at it: flipping 1000 bags of mozzarella will net you $20. But it's legal, there's no minimum to get started, and it's a sure thing. To paraphrase the line attributed to Senator Everett Dirksen, a penny here, a penny there, and soon you're talking real money. Just remember, for every "buy" there has to be a "sell." If not, all the cheese is yours. What time should we be over for dinner?

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford has a jar of pennies in his dresser just waiting to be spent. His column appears weekly via email and online on Substack and Blogspot as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

Collected Works

Wander through any museum, and you will get a sense of the breadth of a particular thing. It might be painting or sculpture, fossils or ancient artifacts, musical instruments or machinery. For the casual observer it can be entertaining as well as informative to see the range of an item, whether it be post-modern impressionism paintings or ball gowns. But while we are well acquainted with institutions that feature fine art and natural history, there are numerous other collections which have been amassed that are less well known. It's not that they are a secret, but rather the lack of demand for them likely doesn't warrant a public exhibition. Though in a case of never say never, I confess that one of the most interesting compendiums we ever perused was in Amsterdam at the Museum of Bags and Purses. Sadly it is now closed, so you'll have to get your Hermès Kelly Bag fix elsewhere.

Many of these collections are scientific in nature, aimed more at cataloging the various elements as opposed to exhibiting them. Take the U.S. National Fungus Collection, the world's largest repository of fungal specimens. Housed at the Beltsville Agricultural Research Center in Maryland, it includes approximately 1 million reference specimens, most of which are searchable online via the USDA Fungal Database. And in spite of the various government funding reductions, a recent $6 million federal grant insures that it will be able to modernize and continue collecting shrooms for all.

That is but one of the national specialized assemblies that are out there. There's the U.S. National Invertebrate Collection containing approximately 50 million specimens of corals, crustaceans, annelids, and parasitic worms.  While an independent non-profit, the American Type Culture Collection houses 18,000 living bacterial strains and 4000 cell lines, as well as viruses and protozoa. And the Smithsonian National Wood Collection includes over 43,000 wood specimens and microscopic slides of tree sections. 

Besides our national treasures, there are an untold number of highly discriminating hoards amassed by reputable institutions. Each tries to offer a survey of their very particular slice of life in all its forms. While not as extensive as our trove of mushrooms, they are none-the-less selective compendiums which attempt to catalog the vast variety of a given universe.

The University of Connecticut at Storrs is the location of Ballard Institute and Museum of Puppetry. It owns a collection of more than 2,500 puppets from around the world, along with books, posters, and other puppetry-related media. There's the Kansas Barbed Wire Museum in La Crosse, the "barbed wire capital of the world." There they showcase over 2000 varieties of the "Devil's Rope," as well as the antique tools and equipment used in its manufacturing process. And in Seattle, WA is the Burke Museum's Ichthyology Collection, the largest of its kind in North America. Situated on rolling shelves almost like library books are stack upon stack of fish specimens in glass jars, at last count more than 12 million. 

Then there are the more personalized troves that individuals have put together and display for the public. In Davenport, IA curator Cammie Pohl has more than 10,000 spoons, including a "spoondelier" chandelier made of tableware hanging from the ceiling. In Boothbay ME is the Kenneth E. Stoddard Shell Museum, now curated by his son Leo. It includes thousands of samples and is one of the largest private collections in the world, the nucleus of which was collected when the elder Stoddard was a Navy man in WWII and stationed in the South Pacific. And Evanston, IL is the home of Stephen Mullins' American Toby Jug Museum. Tobys originated in the mid-18th century in England, and are loosely defined as pottery jugs crafted and painted into the form of a figure. To date, Mullin has collected over 8000 samples, including both the largest (40 inches tall) and smallest (3/8 inch tall) in the world.

Maybe you have a great collection of concert tee shirts or handbags or Swatch watches. Right now they might be in the closet or basement, stuffed in boxes collecting dust. But pull them out, arrange them nicely, and you might have the start of something big. In my office is a shelf with one of every type of medium for which I've created a program: cassettes, CD's, VHS and more. Tickets and viewing times are still available, just give a call.

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford has a large collection of computer cables he needs to curate. His column appears weekly via email and online on Substack and Blogspot as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

Grocery Clerkship

In a multitude of situations we gladly have other people or systems do menial, routine and repetitive tasks for us. In some cases they can do it better and faster, such as cutting the lawn or laundering sensitive fabrics. In other realms we find the project too time consuming, such as painting, or maybe even a little dangerous, like unclogging the gutters. And in still other instances it saves us time so we can do things we prefer, as opposed to house cleaning and vacuuming. We're also increasingly being told how artificial intelligence can automate routine tasks to free up our time, though as writer Joanna Maciejewska elegantly put it, "I want AI to do my laundry and dishes so that I can do art and writing, not for AI to do my art and writing so that I can do my laundry and dishes."

And yet there is one area of growth where we seem to gladly reclaim the effort to do it ourselves vs. farming it out. This in spite of the fact that others stand ready to assist, that they have far more experience and skill for the task at hand, that they generally work faster and can troubleshoot any issues far easier than we can, and... here's the kicker... it costs nothing to engage their services, save perhaps a little time. So why, oh why, do we gravitate to the self-checkout lane at the supermarket?

The concept seems simple enough. Once barcode scanning became the norm, it was super easy to slide a loaf of bread and a half a gallon of milk across a glass screen, run your credit card through the reader, and walk out while the lady with the full cart on lane two was still putting her cottage cheese on the belt. No need to talk or smile at anyone, no need to stand around waiting for someone to dig out their coupons, no need to watch someone figure out that that the boxes of pasta should go in the bag first before the eggs. If you've ever been behind someone trying to fish three pennies out of their wallet to make exact change you can understand road rage. 

And so stores went from one or two self-checkout lanes to multiples of that, while at the same time reducing the number of staffed lanes. And like sheep we gladly followed the flow. But now instead of having one or two items with the goal of a quick getaway, we push over carts brimming with merchandise. Included in that pile are meats wrapped in leakproof bags where the barcode is smudged, and produce with no codes that need to be weighed. Those require hunt-and-pecking the correct spelling, not to mention being able to distinguish between Red Delicious, Fuji, Honeycrisp and Gala apples, lest we be charged for the wrong variety. 

Assuming we got the basics done of tallying all the items, it's time for the payment portion of our show. Coupons? They have to be scanned, then adjudicated when it turns out you only had two bags of pretzels, and the offer was to get the third one at half price. Either you needed to leave everything alone and race back to grab another, or put back the second as you thought THAT was the deal maker, and you really didn't want it to begin with. And there you are, all alone, no clerk to help and guard your stuff, with only the oncoming hoards behind you, and this time it is YOU holding up the line.

But no, you are self-checking-out come hell or high water.

A change is in the offing. A combination of factors, from customer dissatisfaction to theft, along with advances in technology like AI-powered mobile scanning in the cart is starting to shift the balance. There is also a movement towards hybrid systems, like the one at Sam's Club where shoppers scan their own items as they shop via an app, and an employee checks the cart as they walk out the door. 

It's a learning curve for both customers and retailers alike. Like everything else in the shopping world it's all about the holy grails of ease and efficiency while reducing cost and shrinkage. Like the Middle East, one can only hope we find some balance of harmony and security. In the meantime, what's the code for celery?

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford usually heads for the lane with the smallest line, self or otherwise. His column appears weekly via email and online on Substack and Blogspot as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

Play It Again, Pete

When I was a kid I never wanted to be a sports star. Not a baseball player, not a tennis champion, not a football quarterback. I did want to be a garbageman for a time, but only because I really liked the trucks. If I wanted to be anything it was a musician. Not a rock star, but a musician, someone so at home in the world of notes and melody and rhythms that it was a second language which I spoke effortlessly. Sadly for me, while I did learn to play several instruments and played in bands, I had way more enthusiasm than talent. And so I took a different path, while always looking longing at those who had the gift.

I find I need to amend, or at least augment that childhood wish. What I really wanted to be was Pete Malinverni.

Pete started to learn music at six when growing up in Niagara Falls. His first lessons were on a piano his family got from someone at his church, and whenever he got a piece to playable level, that's where he performed. But while his teacher focused on classical, his own tastes ran to Motown and Sly and the Family Stone. Cross breed those three influences, and you can see how jazz was a natural home for him. That led him to an undergraduate degree from SUNY Potsdam, and a graduate degree from Purchase. From there it was a short trip to the New York City jazz scene in the 1980's. There he recorded sixteen times as a band leader in solo piano, piano/violin duet, trio, quartet, quintet, big band and choral formats, as well as taught, collaborated, composed, accompanied and more. If there's a musical verb, he's done it. 

Back when he was starting out, a college buddy who became a Baptist preacher in Brooklyn hired Pete to be his Minister of Music, a position he held for 18 years. "It remains perhaps my most important musical crucible. While there, I began to understand how the music of the Black church has led to jazz and all other forms of American - and world - music, including the things I loved as a kid."  That led to an epiphany one Sunday: "I realized that I wasn't the least bit concerned with 'what' I was playing (it was bound to be right) because of 'why' I was playing... which was to allow and encourage folks (and myself) to have a spiritual experience. I resolved that day to treat all my performances that way." A move northward and that attitude led to his current postings as Conductor/Pianist at the Westchester Reform Temple in Scarsdale, as well as Music Director at the Pound Ridge Community Church, in addition to his weekday gig as Professor of Jazz Studies at Purchase College. Add in club dates in the US, Europe and elsewhere, popup shows at the local library and more, and it's easy to wonder when he sleeps.

To watch Pete play is to see a person who is comfortable, cozy and indeed in love with what he is doing. His body sways as his fingers seem to effortlessly glide up and down the keys, as he seems to telepathically connect with the other performers. While he makes it look easy, it takes work: "It's a two-pronged approach. One, lots of time at the piano, playing scales, working on new concepts that've occurred to me, composing, etc. Two, coming to a performance with the realization that I'm as prepared as I can be, to allow the spirit, the muse, to speak. It's like starting a fire: the preparation is the kindling, and the inspiration is the spark. You need them both. Once I thoroughly know the music I feel confident that my instincts will lead me the right way."

Pete has performed with legends like Clark Terry and Mel Lewis, as well as hosting a local Jazz Vespers series in his hometown to which he brings upcoming talent, not to mention buddies such as Grammy winners Joe Lovano and Janis Seigel of Manhattan Transfer. Seeing the wide range of people he's played with, I asked about his biggest musical influences: "JS Bach, Sly Stone and Thelonious Monk." Other than the fact that they are all keyboard players, it's hard to imagine anyone putting them into the same sentence. Except for Pete. And that tells all you need to know about him. That, and his response when I asked what he wants his audience to take away from his playing: "I sincerely hope they get the fact that every note I play is for them. I really do want to give them a moment in life to just feel, to be in a place they don't get to visit too often." 

-END-

Pete's upcoming gigs and more can be found at https://www.petemalinverni.com/. Marc's column appears weekly via email and online on Substack and Blogspot as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

Elliptically Allegorical

The year gone by has been a tough one in multiple ways: economically, emotionally and intellectually, to name just a few. Unfortunately, many of those factors are well beyond our individual control and so it is easy to get down, and wallow in the things that can't be improved in spite our best hopes, intentions and efforts.

Then there's my elliptical.

While I hesitate to make this tale an allegory that encapsulates the myriad of valleys into which we have descended and the mountains we have to climb, well, why not? You have to see hope and signs where you can, be encouraged by successful outcomes, and take comfort that the tide can be turned, even if things get harder before they get easier. A bridge too far up a creek without a paddle? Perhaps, but let me try.

As my knees got progressively creakier, I decided several years ago that running was not a good idea. Casting about for some sort of exercise that would get my heart rate up but the stress on my joints down, I tried out an elliptical trainer. These cross-country ski-like machines offer a gliding motion that gives you a solid workout without the pounding of slamming one foot after the other into the pavement. Knowing that there was a much better chance of me using one if it were close at hand as opposed to driving to a gym, I bit the bullet and bought one.

All good. I routinely got up and clocked thirty minutes on it most mornings. As with most gear of this type, you can adjust the difficulty to provide a more challenging workout by increasing the resistance... making the easy difficult, much like our current situation. And so over time I pushed the dial up a little bit at a time, and forced myself to accommodate to the new environment. I eventually got well past a cake walk, but well below a slog. 

Perhaps it was the age of the equipment, or the machine trying to balance that particular resistance level, but one morning just as I finished my workout and hit the stop button I heard a loud "BANG!" that came from within the unit. Nothing on the outside appeared changed. However, a few tentative shuffles showed that while the device still worked, the level of difficulty was off the charts. Rather than settling at a level where everything was running just fine and easy, it went the other direction and broke at the hardest setting available. Not to make too much of a parallel to the world at large, but then again...

A little online research showed that it was likely a cable that snapped. The hardest part of replacing it was getting into the whole system, whose outer layers had not been engineered to make it easy for regular folks to enter. (Remind you of anything?) Thankfully other brave souls had been there before me, and posted tips and tricks that the pros used to manipulate the cover to get at the inner workings. 

So I ordered the part. It of course got lost in the seasonal rush, and I had to diligently track it down and get the powers that be to shake it free from a misdirected delivery. Once I got it, it took a number of tools, much muttering and some skinned knuckles to get in, find the broken part, extricate it, install the new piece, then get the whole thing reassembled and back up and running. I'm very tickled with myself that, other than a slightly different algorithmic slope to the resistance setting, it seems to work just fine. Indeed, while I used to work out at a level 10, the new equivalent now seems to be a 13 or 14. Same resistance, different label. 

As I said, while I hesitate to extrapolate my experience to a wider arena, let me try. Old system that got progressively harder but worked. Then broke big time. Some diligent learnings, and some dedicated efforts to effect a change. Some muttering and swearing, some painful contortions, but repairs were possible. And finally a restored system that works again, albeit a little differently. A reach to the current world? Perhaps. But at the risk of overplaying my hand up a mountain to the point of no return, we can only hope that as my exercise equipment goes, so goes the world.

-END-

Marc Wollin of Bedford tries to exercise every day. His column appears weekly via email and online on Substack and Blogspot as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.