I've seen commercials before that I thought encouraged bad behavior in children, but never one quite as horrible as this one.
It practically leaves me speechless.
A lesson in you get what you pay for?
My son once made cookies that were worse because he thought baking powder, flour, and powdered sugar were interchangeable since they were all white and powdery.
At least my son's cookie catastrophe was chewable, if not tasty. These "snickerdoodles" were neither. Granted, I don't have extremely strong hands, but I could not break them.
After pounding one with handle of a spoon, I popped a piece in my mouth. Big mistake. The taste was somewhere between cinnamon dust and cinnamon sawdust. The texture wasn't that good.
You can chew sawdust.
Wood has moisture.
Dust is soft.
The box says "original recipe". I suggest this company update theirs to appeal to modern tastes, though I can't imagine these appealing to anyone of any era. They could start with the one I use.
Even the military doesn't issue hardtack anymore.
At least they do on the stupendously aggravating Times Select. A liberal reader emails:
I will miss Paul. Ms. Dowd was often over the top. Since nobody asked me except the NYTimes why I cancelled, I told them that I did not wish to underwrite hubris. They had a little block there for reasons to cancel. Somebody should hack that.
I can't imagine why they left that particular reason off the list.
I've sort of outgrown the desire to post "Yeah, me too!" in response to individual stupidity like Ms. Nooyi's speech to Columbia MBAs, but this time, I have a few things I'd like to say.
About a boycott of PepsiCo, I have to go along with Big Dog:
...if I stopped buying stuff from every company that was run by or contained some idiot who said stuff I disagreed with or that was just plain stupid, I'd be hand-making everything.
Besides, PepsiCo wouldn't miss me. I fry chicken better than KFC and their gravy sucks, we seldom buy chips, I grew up in SW Colorado and Taco Bell's "flavor" of Mexican food doesn't appeal to me, we order pizza about once a year, and I brew my own caffeine.
That being said, when I do face spending money for something PepsiCo sells, I'll probably remember the speech. If there's a reasonable alternative available, and there likely will be, I'll probably choose the non-PepsiCo brand.
Another point I'd like to make is that Ms. Nooyi showed a remarkable lack of cultural understanding and sensitivity toward the U.S. and the rest of the world with her analogy of the hand and it's five fingers. To do so while encouraging Americans not to behave boorishly when on business abroad was... amazing.
Hopefully, Bill Clinton's commencement address to the Columbia MBAs will be an uplifting and enjoyable experience for them. I don't think he could fail to make it so. No matter what you think of his politics, his ability to deliver a speech well is seldom questioned.
As Donald Sensing put it, bias aside it was a lousy speech. However, I think it's more useful to compare Ms. Nooyi with her contemporaries in the business and graduation speech-making world, than with General MacArthur. We are not then left with the idea that things have regressed quite so badly in either field over the past 40 years.
This time last year, I was the proud Mama at two commencement ceremonies, and both speeches were inspiring and better than I anticipated them being. More importantly, neither made me angry and I think Ms. Nooyi's would have done just that.
One happened to also be to MBAs, these from the University of Texas McCombs School of Business. There, Herb Kelleher, the founder and chairman of Southwest Airlines, wasn't quite as funny as Jon Stewart had been the week before at The College of William and Mary, but he had his moments.
Though Kelleher broke the rule about signaling the end of his speech, his speech was inspiring, and informative. His deep, rumbling, voice and elegantly secure stage presence would probably have inspired if he'd chosen to recite Jabberwocky. Read his remarks here.
Jon Stewart, on the other hand, presented an entirely different image. He wore the elegant W&M doctoral robe open over a t-shirt and jeans with sneakers, inspiring jealousy, if anything, from the W&M grads who had to keep theirs zipped.
I was a little concerned that he'd get political in his remarks, and he did. I was also not that thrilled that a celebrity, a comedian, for pete's sake, was going to metaphorically send them on their way. But he expressed his distress with the current political situation with grace, completely lacking in any kind of anti-Americanism and offered an inspiring goal and plan for life. You can read the whole thing here for all the humor, but here's the inspiring part, where he too breaks the rule about signaling the end of the talk:
College is something you complete. Life is something you experience. So don’t worry about your grade, or the results or success. Success is defined in myriad ways, and you will find it, and people will no longer be grading you, but it will come from your own internal sense of decency which I imagine, after going through the program here, is quite strong…although I’m sure downloading illegal files…but, nah, that’s a different story.
Love what you do. Get good at it. Competence is a rare commodity in this day and age. And let the chips fall where they may.
And the last thing I want to address is the idea that somehow this new generation is not as prepared for the sacrifice and the tenacity that will be needed in the difficult times ahead. I have not found this generation to be cynical or apathetic or selfish. They are as strong and as decent as any people that I have met. And I will say this, on my way down here I stopped at Bethesda Naval, and when you talk to the young kids that are there that have just been back from Iraq and Afghanistan, you don’t have the worry about the future that you hear from so many that are not a part of this generation but judging it from above.
Genetic Confusion
The day starts off with my brother going to one McDonald's to meet my Dad, me going to a different one, and my Dad going to the Buick dealership. In a normal family, Buick dealerships and McDonalds are not often confused.
Mostly by accident, we finally meet up at the McDonalds I have staked out. We enjoy witty conversation, McMuffins, and coffee, the beginning of a good day.
Disempowerment
I get back home around 11:00 am, boot up the computer and answer one email when the power goes off. I wait a few minutes, thinking it might come back on. After all, it is a beautiful, sunny day. After 30 minutes I call the power company and get a real person on the phone. She tells me she will report it, that her computer shows no outage yet, and to call back in 30 minutes or so for repair time estimates.
So I wait an hour, enjoying one of the books my brother gave me at breakfast. I am comfy sitting by the window reading. I call back and I get another real person (Can you believe such luck!) and this one tells me that all she can do is verify that, yes, my power is out.
What a relief to finally know for sure. I tell her how grateful I am for that information since I would never have figured that out on my own. I hang up before she can answer... and most importantly, before I say anything else.
The Power Returns
About 2:00 pm the power comes back on. Being the suspicious type, I wait 15 minutes before deciding it is back on for good. I close the book, start a pot of coffee and head back to the computer. I really want to finish the little terrorism stats project I've started.
I boot up, click IE... can't find server. I glance down at my lovely speedy cable modem (did I mention my brother is still on dial-up?) and it is three solid lights short of a connection. Just to make sure it's not something wrong with the modem from a power surge or something, I try the TV. Yep, cable is out.
I don't know about the cable company where you live, but here they’ve devised a torture routine you must go through every time you call them with a problem. I know this routine by heart. I reboot the digital receiver box. I reboot my modem. I know the cable is out and consider it likely that whatever knocked the power out got the cable too.
So I call the cable company. I don’t even have to look up their number, if that tells you anything about my warm and ongoing relationship with them.
But I am nice. I go through the torture routine with the customer service rep du jour. I even go along with the idea of unplugging the digital cable box from the wall, waiting 30 seconds and plugging it back in again as an alternate reboot method. This method requires moving furniture in my humble abode. CSR du jour says if it's not working after trying the extreme "unplug it from the wall" method, the digital box is broken and I must bring it to their office and get a replacement.
I balk. I ask about the internet connection. She says she can test my modem, but that I must do the extreme "unplug it from the wall" reboot method on it first. I tell her that would require me crawling under the desk, and ask why I can't use the method suggested by the IT people when I call specifically for internet problems - which is disconnect the power cord from the modem.
She said that doesn't work and will damage both my modem and my computer. She expresses dismay and disbelief that anyone officially associated with The Company would suggest such a thing.
I say, "Really." I say this in the iciest, most sarcastic tone I have. I have practiced this tone for years. It’s a scary tone, dripping with sarcasm and impending… whatever. My children still run to hide under their beds when I use this tone, though they all have their own homes now.
"Yes, really. We've had lots of modems damaged that way. The test I run sends a large electrical charge to the modem and the electricity that's left in the cord if it's not unplugged from the wall will damage your modem."
"Oh dear, I didn't know that. Should I disconnect the modem from the computer before you do that?"
"No, your computer must be connected to the modem. But you can turn the computer off, if you want."
I refrain from saying “Riiiiggghhht”.
We've been on the phone for almost 30 minutes. The real danger to my computer is the steam coming out my ears.
But I need this woman to submit a work order. She's told me three times that there have been no other calls about service outages. However unlikely, it could be just our house. So, I lay the phone down on the desk and make noises like I'm crawling under it, grunt a little, say "ouch" while unplugging the power cord from my modem - not the wall - and count to 30 slowly, out loud, then reconnecting it.
I inform her that still none of the connection lights are coming on steady. She informs me that her test "signal" failed to reach my modem. I tried "really" on her again with the same lack of effect.
Then she tells me (finally) that she will submit a work order ticket and that my service will be restored within 24 - 48 hours.
Now I’m angry. I pull out the old "May I speak to your supervisor, please" tactic.
"I don't have a supervisor."
"OH?" Genuine surprise here, mixed with fear. I don’t want this person unsupervised in my world. I then ask to speak to someone in billing, and she says she is billing. I ask her if it will take them 24-48 hours to disconnect all our services. She asks me to hold.
Amazingly, magically even – a supervisor is on the line.
The supervisor is very apologetic and assures me they do not specifically train their representatives to treat the customers as if they were as clueless as the representatives.
I took the high road and let that one slide. Personally, I think they’re recruiting at DU.
Thank you, blogosphere, for allowing me this rant. I feel better already. I’m so happy, I think I’ll call my brother and see if he wants to meet for breakfast tomorrow at the Ford dealership.
SemiOnager
