Device of the Year Two

Quote of the day:
“Are You Ready to Pay $4 a Gallon?”
--Headline from today’s Los Angeles Times

It turns out that I have three devices I’m impressed with this year. Today’s entry ain’t no iPhone, but it sure is one gratifying little gadget.

The days after Christmas are known as the worst time of year for household plumbing clogs. It makes sense, what with so many people at home so much.

There is more cooking going on for larger numbers of people. And there is a rise in the amount of experimental flushing by young children. Not of young children, but by young children.

Well far be it from us to eschew such an important holiday tradition.

So there I was, plunging and plunging, determined that I could loosen this clog. The longer I was at it the more irrational I became. I had no intention of calling a plumber. And clogs had virtually always responded to my plunging prowess. I was not giving up, thank you very much.

Plunging didn’t work. Clog 1, rubber plumbing device 0.

I know, I know. If YOU had the plunger and were therefore doing it RIGHT, the result would’ve been different. Too bad I didn’t have your phone number. I’d sure like to get you on video trying to free this drain.

On the other hand, if this has happened to you and you have the inspiring courage to admit it, you may have done next what I did.

I thought I’d go to Home Depot and buy an inexpensive snake (known by cognoscenti as an auger). So I went online to research.

I stumbled on the Kleer Drain. It cost $32 and looked like a short pogo stick.

The basic idea is that this thing shoots a very strong burst of air into the drain, pushing the clog out of the way.

Sounded like an interesting idea, so I read comments about it. While I’m always a bit skeptical about online product comments, they were overwhelmingly positive.

My favorite comment was the one where someone complained that the thing just wouldn’t work right. Until he read the instructions and followed them.

I decided to take the plunge. So to speak.

We brought the thing home and I read the instructions a couple times. It seemed simple enough, but I was still skeptical.

Words cannot describe the sense of triumph I felt when I used it and heard the water begin draining away. No clog is going to get the best of me. No sireeee.

The Kleer Drain is a keeper. I put it in a place of respect in our garage.

Sometimes in the face of insurmountable obstacles, life does work out.

Aren’t I philosophical?

We're Shopping like Homer Simpson

Quote of the day:
"Be still when you have nothing to say; [but] when genuine passion moves you, say what you've got to say, and say it hot."
--D.H. Lawrence

Related to yesterday’s posting, Christopher Jencks wrote an excellent analysis of the immigration debate a few months ago.

The reason it’s excellent is that it’s not the usual clobber-you-on-the-head polemic that everything written about immigration seems to be. Among other things, he looks at the sources of various data that have been cited and waved around by various people with agendas.

By doing this, he makes an important and seemingly-obvious point. The results of surveys about American attitudes about immigration are mostly dependent on how questions are asked.

Two important variables are the words used in questions and the number of answers people have to choose from.

See Jencks’ piece here.

Perhaps “closer to home” in this busy shopping season, James Surowiecki makes a fascinating observation about how retailers use pricing as a marketing tool.

He notes that Homer Simpson’s wine-selection strategy is the way many of us choose what we buy. Homer always buys the second-cheapest wine on the menu.

For example, when choosing a microwave oven and given the choice between a $110 Emerson and a $180 Panasonic, most people will choose the Emerson. But if a $200 choice is added, most people choose the $180 Panasonic.

After all, we want a good deal but we don’t want to be cheap.

See Surowiecki’s piece here.

Rampant Consumerism Can Begin as Generosity

Quote of the day:
“To do just the opposite is also a form of imitation.”
--Georg Christoph Lichtenberg

I don’t usually quote huge chunks of text, but today I’m making an exception. This December 6th column by the Wall Street Journal’s Terri Cullen is something special.

It’s an excellent portrait of misguided good intentions and generosity run amok at Christmastime. It’s called “Gifted Child: When Loved Ones Swamp Your Kid With Presents”:


“It's the time of year when calls and emails pour in from our family and close friends, all asking the same question: ‘What would Gerald like for Christmas?’

“It's not always an easy question to answer, despite our 8-year-old son's ever-growing wish list. When Gerald was much younger, I balked at making suggestions. I thought it was tasteless to compile the equivalent of a virtual bridal registry for our son's Christmas gifts. But I've since discovered that helping others choose Gerald's gifts helps me keep family and friends from going overboard with their generosity -- and overwhelming our home with toys.

“The gift suggestions I make consider a number of factors, including our relationship to the gift giver and, often, the current state of their finances. I have an extremely large extended family, most of whom gather each year to exchange gifts. (This year, we'll get together at our house -- on my wish list is a cleaning-service gift certificate.)

“In years past, when I didn't specify inexpensive gifts Gerald might like, I was dismayed to find that some family members generously bought things that probably taxed their budget. This year doing so could prove even more taxing, as a few of our friends and family members are caught in the mortgage crisis that's put the squeeze on so many homeowners. And with such a big family, simply saying ‘Gerald likes anything Nerf or Star Wars,’ inevitably leads to duplicate gifts and disappointed gift givers.

“My husband Gerry's family is very small, but somehow we wind up with the same gift-giving dilemma: Unless I specify an inexpensive game or toy, Gerald often is overwhelmed with gifts. I fear Gerry's brother and aunts and uncles feel obligated to lavish expensive gifts on the few children in the family. Then there are my own divorced parents, who insist on buying large, expensive toys and bikes, no matter how much I urge them to show restraint. In the past I've tried to suggest accessories to the more-expensive toys or games that ‘Santa’ brings, but often that means the gift-giver arrives with the accessory as well as a more-expensive present.

“Gerry and I are blessed with many close friends. With them, giving and getting gifts for our kids is an excuse to get together -- the fact that more stuff winds up in our already overcrowded homes is an unfortunate side effect. Because there are so many children to buy for, it's generally accepted that extremely inexpensive gifts are the way to go. (I reserve gift suggestions to those who have no kids -- I remember how helpful that was for me when I was childless and clueless about what a preteen boy or girl would like to have.)

“Before I make suggestions I spend time on toy retailers' Web sites, looking for little presents that would please Gerald just as much as big toys. For example, a $6.99 packet of five Matchbox cars will elicit the same yelp of pleasure as a $69.99 remote-control car. Last year Gerald had just as much fun playing with a $10.99 Star Wars Legos V-wing fighter as he did his $99.99 Legos Classic Imperial Star Destroyer. With the benefit of hindsight, Santa could have substituted the $125 robotic dinosaur he ignores for a $2.99 Spalding Hi-Bounce ball he plays with endlessly.

“One gift suggestion I won't be making this year: gift cards. I used to urge out-of-state friends and family to consider them, so they wouldn't have to wait in line at the post office to mail bulky toys. I also suggested gift cards when I simply couldn't think of anything else Gerald might want. And I hoped gift cards would help moderate the inundation of stuff by allowing us to spread the purchases out over the year. By doing so, I reasoned, Gerald would appreciate the gifts more. In theory, a sound idea. In practice, after two years Gerald has nearly $500 in gift cards still unspent -- this year I'm planning on ‘regifting’ the cards by using them to buy gifts for others.

“Add up all these people, and Gerald winds up inundated with gifts around the holidays. I used to worry that the annual onslaught was desensitizing him to the loving sentiment behind the gifts. So when he was 5, we established a rule that he couldn't open his next gift until he'd hugged the person whose gift he'd just opened. The affectionate gesture is appreciated by family and friends, and the momentary breather seems to help him better appreciate his bounty. We also put away a lot of his toy gifts, and bring them out later in the year when he's grown tired of the other toys. Gifts that he clearly wouldn't enjoy are donated to our church charity.

“Speaking of charity, I can hear column hecklers standing ready to berate me for not suggesting the most-thoughtful gift: a charitable donation in Gerald's name. Don't think I haven't tried. Gerald's cousin, Rylina, is autistic, and last year we worked hard to raise money for Autism Speaks, which is his favorite charity. Since he participated so enthusiastically, I figured many of our family and friends would feel such a donation would be meaningful for Gerald. Some did welcome the suggestion, but most said they'd feel bad if ‘all the other kids were unwrapping toys while he unwrapped a charitable-gift tax receipt.’

“Point taken. If Gerald got a ‘thank you’ note for a donation as a gift, it would be up to Gerry and me to make him understand the true value of the gift -- although that feeling could last after the exuberance of the annual toy orgy has subsided. But charitable gifts could be made so much more meaningful with a little creativity: attach a thank-you note for a donation to a local pet shelter to the collar of a small stuffed kitten, or a note about a gift to an environmental group to a mini-polar bear. With Gerald, for example, the meaning of a donation in his name could be driven home by including a photo of him hugging Rylina.

“I'll try suggesting a donation again this year, concentrating on family and friends who would otherwise be stuck mailing Gerald's holiday gifts. For the rest, I'll compile Gerald's virtual gift registry. Then I'll call friends and family and ask for gift suggestions for their kids, so I can get started with my own gift shopping.”

Rampant Consumerism

Quote of the day:
“You know of the disease called ‘sleeping sickness.’ There also exists a sleeping sickness of the soul. Its most dangerous aspect is that one is unaware of its coming. That is why you have to be careful. As soon as you notice the slightest sign of indifference, the moment you become aware of the loss of a certain seriousness, of longing, of enthusiasm and zest, take it as a warning. Your soul suffers if you live superficially.”
--Albert Schweitzer

There is much lamenting about “rampant consumerism.” It’s on the verge of becoming a new cultural mantra, right up there with “real estate prices will be higher in three years.”

We also are hearing the predictable gnashing of teeth about the commercialization of Christmas. Gnash, gnash, gnash.

Sales of books about simple living continue to grow. Let’s buy something that will instruct us how not to buy so much. Let’s have a drink to deal with our alcoholism.

As much talk and complaining as there is, we do nothing about it. In fact, consumption--conspicuous and otherwise--gets more rampant each passing year.

Question: who, exactly, is supposed to do something about “rampant consumerism” or Christmas commercialism?

These things don’t result from evil or bad intentions. Far from it. They are rather the result of very good intentions and generosity.

A specific portrait of this at work was published in the “Wall Street Journal” last week. It’s an extraordinary column, in the guise of every day. I’ll have it here tomorrow.

Cyber Monday

Quote of the day:
"A wide awake lad has no patience with that which is namby-pamby. ... He demands real flesh and blood heroes who do something."
--Edward L. Stratemeyer, who created The Hardy Boys, Bobbsey Twins and Nancy Drew series.

Alright already.

First it was “Black Friday.” Now it’s “Cyber Monday.”

Today is imagined as the post-Thanksgiving pre-Christmas day when Americans across the land unite and buy things online. Preferably at work.

Online shopping is a major pastime at workplaces everywhere. That’s why no one wants his computer screen visible from his office door. It’s annoying to have to navigate away from Ebay when you hear someone walking by.

This goes on everywhere, but don’t ever ask anyone about it, because it’s a secret.

So I’m not sure we need Cyber Monday. Unless we’re going to permanently modify the workweek. As we did with Casual Friday.

In any case, I sure am glad that we’re naming all these days. Otherwise they wouldn’t mean anything. They’d all be just ordinary days of life.

Not ranked in any way. Not labeled in any way. Except Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, ….

Ordinary days. How unimaginably boring.

Shopping 'R' Us

Quote of the day:
“Of course parents want their children--regardless of age--to come to them if there is a crisis. And I am told that seven out of 10 teens who find themselves pregnant do just that. However, those who don’t usually have a good reason for not doing so.”
--Dear Abby, today.

Quote of the day No. 2:
“People come in here, and they feel at home. Unless they live in one of those homes that are always clean all the time.”
--Jan Cano, who runs the Frame Gallery in downtown Chula Vista, California.

Cano was responding to the opening of Otay Ranch Town Center, a very large shopping and restaurant complex dubbed a “lifestyle center.” These centers are being developed across the country adjacent to new, outlying suburban housing. Sometimes they are designed as part of mixed-use, urban-style neighborhoods, so that people can easily walk to shopping and other conveniences.

The developers of these centers say that they are responding to desires for a downtown, community-oriented experience in the suburbs. Those, like Cano, who continue to operate businesses in downtown areas, respond with bafflement.

The lead architect of Otay Ranch Town Center, Robert Anderson, says, “These places are the social hubs of our community, whether we like it or not. People might criticize that they’re commercially driven by a bunch of national retailers, but shopping is a big part of people’s lives. So let’s make it great.”

Whatever our reservations, these “lifestyle centers” will be successful, because many people, including many of those with reservations, will patronize them. It’s similar to our attitude about Wal-Mart. We may have reservations about how they have altered the communities they have entered. But they are successful because we either need, or must have, low prices.