Small planes
scare some
Big People
the way
Big Boats
worry
a small island
with one harbour
full of boats
able to go
in the flats
after clever fish;
with quick lizzards
and slow bugs;
birdsong to charm
worms from sandy yards;
even the bakery's
only got small donuts.
The right small island
shrugs-off
Big Things
carried ashore
on small devices.
The best approach
to a small island:
land light as you can,
leave lighter still.
- "Saint James" March 18, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Abbey Rude?
![]() |
Quality over Quantity |
Many, perhaps a majority,
have also mastered the artistry and learned the proper algorithms for
admittance into a handful of precious colleges; thus guaranteeing lifelong
wealth and true happiness. Soon, even the students will learn to take over this
task from their parents.
The local school and club
teams here, as well as individual athletes, compete at the highest levels and
demonstrate superior discipline, persistence, and desire to win – and these are
just the ten-year-olds!
Admittedly, nobody has yet
figured out how to replace the bridge on our Central Avenue, but, even here, you can’t
have everything.
These are not complaints or
sly criticisms. I merely record what I see and hear from perhaps too aggressively
proud parents at cocktail parties.
In short, we live in a
goal-oriented, achievement-focused, fast-paced competitive local environment
every bit as capable as China’s or Silicon Valley’s. There is no reason to
shrink from being proud of living local and competing global.
Except that all this talent
and energy expended on big things might be just the thing preventing us from
performing some of life’s little things just as well; and, these are the kinds
of details which have an enormous impact on civility, generosity, courtesy,
mutual respect, what we have come to collectively call Quality of Life.
I refer, of course, to simple
rules of civility, while driving in town.
With this in mind and as a
public service, let’s take a look at some of the simple things which we could
do much, much better, if only we could apply some of that global market
dominating focus upon them:
Learning the official, actual, enforceable rules of marked
pedestrian walkways. I moved to
Laguna Beach, CA in 1974 and I distinctly remember being horrified as my friend
totally disregarded busy weekend traffic on Pacific Coast Highway (a kind of Boston Post
Road with an ocean attached on one side) and stepped into the road to cross.
Vehicles of every description came to screeching halts as her toe hit the first
bit of crosswalk!
It worked every
time, with the exception of when one encountered out-of-state visitors in
rental cars, often, I’m sad to report from New York or New England. Today, when
we visit California, every driver and pedestrian still seems to not only know
the rules, but to obey them with some content.
Contrast
that with local experience when trying to cross the street in clearly marked
crosswalks. Some work better than others, the one at Elm and Purchase Streets
for example. But, that is the exception. Have you ever seen a driver in town
pulled over for going through a marked crosswalk while a pedestrian is trying
to cross? Nor have I. Are you even confident as a pedestrian that you really
have the right of way in town? Not exactly, based on actual use, I’m afraid.
Here’s a big
one I encounter all the time? At a traffic light, if the driver has a green,
does the pedestrian in a crosswalk still have the right of way? I do not think
so, but try telling that to certain pedestrians stretching the rule.
We have got
to find a way to do this better. Post simple rules in town? Start enforcing
much more often? Make this an SAT question? Get rid of the crosswalks before
something terrible happens?
C’mon, we
are a people who invented an absolutely free system of having 845 million friends.
Surely we can learn how to walk safely again.
Can’t we?
Hello! Did we not ban talking on a cell phone and
holding it in one hand to the ear while driving vehicles, many of which are the size of beach cottages,
around town, any town? Aside from special stakeouts at strategic places or
occasional bad luck, drivers talking on a cell phone held to the ear with one
hand, which should be on the steering wheel, now seem to have free reign in
town.
Really, is
there anyone out there who believes that this law is seriously enforced, or
even could be enforced by even the most diligent police department (and ours is
very diligent and professional)? I didn’t think so. We’d have to build huge
detention centers to hold errant callers. The only way that this can stop is if
we just stop or admit defeat and get rid of the law, if there really is a law.
Anecdotal
evidence suggests that half the drivers we see now totally disregard the
requirement to talk hands-free while driving. This is not just a local issue;
it has become a dangerous joke in many places.
Notice we
haven’t even mentioned checking emails and texting while driving, which are
more dangerous and far too prevalent. We’d do well just to stop talking on the
phone and concentrate on the road. Some of us, too many, are Double-Dippers,
driving through a crosswalk, scaring the you know what out of a peaceful
pedestrian, while talking on a
cell phone! Say Goodbye, Gracie.
Learning to use turn-signals again. I am old enough to remember my grandfather getting a
new car with a truly marvelous option: automatic turn signals so that drivers
no longer had to reach out the window to signal. Ah, the excitement of it all!
Later, and
this is hard to imagine for many people who apparently do not even know that
all vehicles still come with this feature, people simply used these signals as
a safety precaution and courtesy to other drivers all the time. And, if they forgot, while momentarily distracted,
they might even get ticketed for not signaling or at least feel a tinge of
guilt.
Today, the
courteous and safe use of the automatic turn signal, not an option feature I
might add, and I’m not making that up, is the exception and not the rule. Time
after time, especially when vehicles exit off
95, they do so as a surprise.
Tell the one
behind me that I am going to slowly exit? Please, I can’t be bothered. After
all, she might take my job away or his daughter get my son’s place at the
University of Global Intensity.
Instead of a
virtual flick of a finger while turning, how about an actual flick of the wrist
to use that au courant turn signal
app!
We have
succeeded so well in achieving Quantity of Life that we may have forgotten during
the recent challenging years about making time for Quality of Life. This
requires composure, courtesy, generosity, even cheerfulness, not to mention
driving as though we are cruising in the country instead of barreling around
some racetrack in Verizon-land.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Funny Ball
Amazingly, the Giants have won the Super Bowl. Lin-sanity
has lifted the once woebegone Knicks along with the city and the entire
country. The Yankees have shipped Burnett and millions to the Pirates and added
two new strong arms to the rotation as Spring Training arrives and hope
prevails for so many.
And then, there are the Mets.
Name one really good thing about the Mets? Well, how about this:
Sandy Alderson, the team’s GM drove all the way to Florida recently without
mistakenly strapping his dog, Buddy, to the top of his car. If that isn’t
enough, there is the fact that nobody, including Alderson and perhaps even the
tenacious field-manager Terry Collins expects much from the Mets this season.
This season marks the Mets’ 50th Anniversary. One
of the stars of the team’s 1986 Series team, Hall of Fame catcher Gary Carter,
died recently. It was Carter who got a hit in the tenth inning of Game Six with
the Mets down to their last Series’ out, and the Red Sox poised in the field to
rid themselves of their long curse. What resulted is the stuff of legend in
Mets-dom, and infamy among the Fenway Faithful, who will always see the ball
that dribbled by Bill Buckner into the foulest of territories down right field.
![]() |
JWP |
That error also provided me with an opportunity me to
witness Game Seven from high up behind home plate, where I had to duck down to
see a dramatic Carter home run among other hits. The Mets came from behind to
finally and completely break Red Sox hearts once more.
At the time, I worked in New York for a company based in
Cambridge, MA. My colleagues had been pounding me after the Sox won the first
two Series’ games, as only Boston fans could do. After the Mets won, I kept that ticket in my wallet for a long time, just to be able to take it out
and show it to the same guys when they tried to bully the Rangers, Knicks,
Yankees, or the same Mets.
The ticket was still in my wallet, when I met Gary Carter a
few years later at a CYO dinner. People lined up to have him sign their program,
but he smiled a huge Carter smile at me as I pulled my ticket out of my wallet
and handed it to him. “Do you just carry this around all the time?” he asked.
Well, yeah, I did.

When my baseball thoughts drift to the 2012 Mets, these
improbable names keep popping into my head: Jeremy Lin and Victor Cruz. I’ll
bet that Alderson and Collins are wondering about those guys as well, as they
contemplate how they might dare to contend, while the legally and financially besieged
owners, Wilpon & Katz, continue to battle the Madoff forces in the courts. But,
where will the Mets find their own Lin and or Cruz, for whom they will not be
able to pay very much? Or, are they hiding on the current roster somewhere?
Talk about improbable!
![]() |
Marv |
The Mets were born in 1962, five years after the Dodgers and
Giants slipped out of town. The new team borrowed their orange and blue team
colors from their departed cousins; and their first home was my beloved Polo
Grounds. Just for good measure they added Casey Stengel, late of the Yanks. Their
co-founder and majority owner was Joan Whitney Payson, who had been a minority
Giants owner. This at least gave the team a social pedigree off the field if
not on it. (Mets faithful will recall that the other co-founder, one M. Donald
Grant, infamously traded Tom Seaver, the best Met ever)
The Mets proceeded to astound us with lows, forty wins in
that first season, and with highs, the 1969 Miracle. In between, they have
often been mediocre, an afterthought, based in an afterthought borough, in a
Yankee town. Instead of Money Ball, they often dabbled in a weird brand of Funny
Ball.
Fortune (and politics) brought the Mets a new home in 1964,
Shea Stadium. I attended the first game played there on April 17, along with
50,311 other hearty souls (Pirates 4, Mets 3), while on a one-day hiatus from
high school with a serious Opening Day fever.
The Mets have suddenly become attractive to me. There’s
something so drastically wrong with the Mets that they cannot help reminding me
of the 2011 mid-season NY Giants, and the pre-Lin NY Knicks. Media and fans
alike wanted new players, new coaches, new GM’s and new owners for those teams
not so very long ago.
I can’t help wondering if the Mets have what it takes to
somehow rise above their recent near total ineptitude on the field and off to
become the real story of this new season. Alderson and Collins are a great
one-two punch who compliment each other well. They will need the owners and
their families to stay distracted, while they whittle away at the team. They
will also need some new heroes and a series of improbable events to go their
way
And, of course, there is always prayer.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Her One And Only
Let's imagine.
If Cupid’s arrow
had flown
straight,
and
we’d never
met,
how dull things
might be;
and,
late at night,
in February,
you would be
the one
the one
who must
walk the dog,
walk the dog,
and wait,
and wait,
for her
and wait,
for her
to find
her one and only
right spot.
right spot.
- from Less Is Less ©twmcdermott2010
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
FactBook: Greece, Facebook, Chrysler
Greece
Number of Greek public sector employees 750,000
Number of public sector layoffs planned for 2012 15,000
by 2015 150,000
Current official Greek unemployment rate 19%
Amount of pending private sector loans to Greece $171Billion
% of loans returning to banks 100
% trickling down thru Greek economy 0
Arabic spelling of "Greece" E-g-y-p-t
Most important Greek export Greeks
_____________________________________________________
Facebook
Number of reported Facebook (FB) users/friends 845 Million
Value of pending FB IPO $75-100Billion
Actual annual FB profit $1Billion
Reported value of FB COO Cheryl Sandberg's shares $1.2Billion
Most important FB product Friends' info
% of IPO proceeds reserved for each of FB's "Friends" 0
_______________________________________________________
"Chrysler"
Most talked about Super Bowl ad "Chrysler"
Authorizer of 2008 $17.4B Chrysler bailout George W Bush
% of Chrysler now owned by Italian-based Fiat 58%
Number of times Fiat name mentioned/shown in ad 0
Considered most effective SB ad Fiat
Nationality of Fiat model Catrinel Menghia Romanian
The ads:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGMOhOYvcw4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cpi2IAec9Ho
Number of Greek public sector employees 750,000
by 2015 150,000
Current official Greek unemployment rate 19%
Amount of pending private sector loans to Greece $171Billion
% of loans returning to banks 100
% trickling down thru Greek economy 0
Arabic spelling of "Greece" E-g-y-p-t
Most important Greek export Greeks
_____________________________________________________
Number of reported Facebook (FB) users/friends 845 Million
Value of pending FB IPO $75-100Billion
Reported value of FB COO Cheryl Sandberg's shares $1.2Billion
Most important FB product Friends' info
% of IPO proceeds reserved for each of FB's "Friends" 0
_______________________________________________________
"Chrysler"
Most talked about Super Bowl ad "Chrysler"
Authorizer of 2008 $17.4B Chrysler bailout George W Bush
% of Chrysler now owned by Italian-based Fiat 58%
Number of times Fiat name mentioned/shown in ad 0
Considered most effective SB ad Fiat
Nationality of Fiat model Catrinel Menghia Romanian
The ads:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGMOhOYvcw4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cpi2IAec9Ho
Monday, February 6, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Cry Me A River? Amazon Rising
My first remembered books were a Doubleday Kipling with an orange cover and a Grossett & Dunlap Riders Of The Purple Sage by Zane Grey. I distinctly recall looking through them often, if not exactly reading them cover to cover, on the floor of my room when I was about six or seven years old.
I soon graduated to reading the Hardy Boys mysteries, some from the Forest Hills, Queens NY branch of the public library, and others bought and shared with two friends. Yes, a little book club. Two favorites were The Shore Road Mystery and The Yellow Feather Mystery. I have never lost my desire for mysteries, suspense, and espionage stories all the way to finishing Started Early, Took My Dog by Kate Atkinson (yes) last week, beginning Death In Summer by Benjamin Black (yes!), AKA John Banville, this week, and getting bogged down in The Return of John Emmet (no) in between.
But, why am I telling you this? Well, I just want to share a few bona fides regarding my love of reading, books, bookshops, and what is known in general as trade publishing. Publishing has been experiencing paradigm changes since Amazon was born, and those changes are accelerating today, with Amazon itself becoming a publisher in addition to being an online distributor of new and used titles.
I once worked for a large media/publishing empire. About twenty years ago, I was dispatched up to Boston to meet with the administrator of a smallish world-renowned trade publisher we owned in order to help them reduce costs. I was received in their beautiful brick house/office, which overlooked the Common and Public Garden, as if I had been the chief of a book-burning brigade in Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451.
I learned that the company was run almost like a charity, with authors, books, and readers treated like service beneficiaries. I exaggerate, but only a little. The entire editorial process was treated as a noble calling, and there was a distinguished list of famous authors and literature going back to the nineteenth century to demonstrate why this was so. In fact, even to a dedicated reader and book-lover like myself, the whole thing seemed as if it were stuck in the nineteenth century. It seemed more like visiting a well-appointed orphanage than a business.
They had little regard for profits, which were considered, if at all, as a lucky by-product of their noble cause, and less regard for the behemoth media conglomerate who now reigned over them and had dispatched me. Consequently, they treated me very politely, very agreeably, but turned out to be masterful passive-aggresives as soon as I went out the door.
Soon after, the media conglomerate moved that little publisher to a centralized book unit HQ in New York and brought in a publishing heavy-weight from a dreaded super-commercialized publishing "house" to run the whole thing. He did so, with a vengeance. In fact, he did it so well, the media giant was able to sell it off after a few years to another global publisher.
And that guy who headed the whole thing? He is now in charge of Amazon's new publishing unit and is much-hated, at least for now, by independent booksellers and trade publishers (except for Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, which has a deal with Amazon).
Publishing in its glory-days was more about lunch than profitability. It was a cozy world, much cozier than the music industry before Apple knocked-off those guys, since publishing, at least on the surface, was mostly a game for gentlemen and ladies: a claim Big Music could never make.
You didn't make much dough in publishing, but you got to feel superior to a lot of people, and that was a pretty good deal to the right kind of person, especially certain people who had migrated to Manhattan from afar to become important and influential, not to mention have long lunches. This little world was ripe for someone like Barnes & Noble, Walmart, and now Jeff Bezos's Amazon to come around and thumb their noses at the whole thing, just the way Jobs did to Big Music, and the cell-phone industry.
Now, irony of ironies, trade publishing's newest hero is none other than...Barnes & Noble? Yes, because it's troubled brick and mortar stores, new Nook reader, and its online empire make it, if not exactly a friend, at least the enemy of publishing's biggest current enemy, Amazon, who is signing up big name authors and wants to own the Whole Shebang. Bezos doesn't like sharing any more than Gates or Jobs did.
I love independent bookshops and frequent them whenever I have a chance: Diane's in Greenwich CT, The Mysterious Bookshop, McNally Jackson, Crawford Doyle, all in Manhattan. I was also a very early user of Amazon and its brilliant, patented 1-Click purchase. I have been underwhelmed over the years by Amazon's customer service and disappointed in its aggressor attitude towards indies, which pose little threat to it, but add such richness to our lives.
In the eye of this storm it's important to keep one very important fact in mind: people are reading a lot of books in various forms. At dinner the other night, my friend proudly told of how he is reading Jane Austen and Dumas on his Kindle, while riding the train! How can this be a bad thing? Next thing you know, students will be shaking off their Reading List collars and actually reading books of their own choosing, in their own free time, and not even in summer!
In publishing, McLuhan was wrong; the medium is not the message, the story is the message.
It is up to us to decide what story we want, how we want it, when we want it, and how much it is worth to us. The rest, as Pound wrote, is dross.
This story has a long way to go yet. Meanwhile, keep reading.
I soon graduated to reading the Hardy Boys mysteries, some from the Forest Hills, Queens NY branch of the public library, and others bought and shared with two friends. Yes, a little book club. Two favorites were The Shore Road Mystery and The Yellow Feather Mystery. I have never lost my desire for mysteries, suspense, and espionage stories all the way to finishing Started Early, Took My Dog by Kate Atkinson (yes) last week, beginning Death In Summer by Benjamin Black (yes!), AKA John Banville, this week, and getting bogged down in The Return of John Emmet (no) in between.
But, why am I telling you this? Well, I just want to share a few bona fides regarding my love of reading, books, bookshops, and what is known in general as trade publishing. Publishing has been experiencing paradigm changes since Amazon was born, and those changes are accelerating today, with Amazon itself becoming a publisher in addition to being an online distributor of new and used titles.
I once worked for a large media/publishing empire. About twenty years ago, I was dispatched up to Boston to meet with the administrator of a smallish world-renowned trade publisher we owned in order to help them reduce costs. I was received in their beautiful brick house/office, which overlooked the Common and Public Garden, as if I had been the chief of a book-burning brigade in Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451.
I learned that the company was run almost like a charity, with authors, books, and readers treated like service beneficiaries. I exaggerate, but only a little. The entire editorial process was treated as a noble calling, and there was a distinguished list of famous authors and literature going back to the nineteenth century to demonstrate why this was so. In fact, even to a dedicated reader and book-lover like myself, the whole thing seemed as if it were stuck in the nineteenth century. It seemed more like visiting a well-appointed orphanage than a business.
They had little regard for profits, which were considered, if at all, as a lucky by-product of their noble cause, and less regard for the behemoth media conglomerate who now reigned over them and had dispatched me. Consequently, they treated me very politely, very agreeably, but turned out to be masterful passive-aggresives as soon as I went out the door.
Soon after, the media conglomerate moved that little publisher to a centralized book unit HQ in New York and brought in a publishing heavy-weight from a dreaded super-commercialized publishing "house" to run the whole thing. He did so, with a vengeance. In fact, he did it so well, the media giant was able to sell it off after a few years to another global publisher.
And that guy who headed the whole thing? He is now in charge of Amazon's new publishing unit and is much-hated, at least for now, by independent booksellers and trade publishers (except for Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, which has a deal with Amazon).
Publishing in its glory-days was more about lunch than profitability. It was a cozy world, much cozier than the music industry before Apple knocked-off those guys, since publishing, at least on the surface, was mostly a game for gentlemen and ladies: a claim Big Music could never make.
You didn't make much dough in publishing, but you got to feel superior to a lot of people, and that was a pretty good deal to the right kind of person, especially certain people who had migrated to Manhattan from afar to become important and influential, not to mention have long lunches. This little world was ripe for someone like Barnes & Noble, Walmart, and now Jeff Bezos's Amazon to come around and thumb their noses at the whole thing, just the way Jobs did to Big Music, and the cell-phone industry.
Now, irony of ironies, trade publishing's newest hero is none other than...Barnes & Noble? Yes, because it's troubled brick and mortar stores, new Nook reader, and its online empire make it, if not exactly a friend, at least the enemy of publishing's biggest current enemy, Amazon, who is signing up big name authors and wants to own the Whole Shebang. Bezos doesn't like sharing any more than Gates or Jobs did.
I love independent bookshops and frequent them whenever I have a chance: Diane's in Greenwich CT, The Mysterious Bookshop, McNally Jackson, Crawford Doyle, all in Manhattan. I was also a very early user of Amazon and its brilliant, patented 1-Click purchase. I have been underwhelmed over the years by Amazon's customer service and disappointed in its aggressor attitude towards indies, which pose little threat to it, but add such richness to our lives.
![]() |
"Jane" Austen |
In publishing, McLuhan was wrong; the medium is not the message, the story is the message.
It is up to us to decide what story we want, how we want it, when we want it, and how much it is worth to us. The rest, as Pound wrote, is dross.
This story has a long way to go yet. Meanwhile, keep reading.
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