We are required to have a license to drive, a license to fish, and a license to get married. Medical professionals need licenses before they can cut out your appendix or give you an antibiotic. It wasn’t always that way of course. Requiring a license for something usually comes about when it dawns on government that certain activities seem to affect the well being of others. Not to mention that licensure fees are a marvelous source of revenue. Elected officials are always looking for ways to get more of your money without using the T word.
Naturally, licensure involves more than simply paying a fee. To get a license for most things you have to take courses or earn a degree. Then you have to pass a test. These hurdles usually tend to result in upgrading the standards of performance for professions and skilled trade groups that require them. One of the best things about requiring a license to say, practice dentistry, is that you can be reasonably sure that your dentist knows the difference between a molar and an incisor. And he won’t suggest that since you’re sitting in the comfortable chair; why not also take care of your bunion?
There comes a time in nearly all endeavors when the idea of licensure begins to make sense. I’m afraid we’ve reached that point with microphones. What we need now is a license to use a microphone. I’m serious. If you’ve ever been trapped in an airport or an airplane listening to someone blather on and on, well past the requisite talk about boarding rules and regulations, and way deep into the weather in Portland or trying to sing a cute parody, you are no doubt nodding your head in full agreement with me. Mind you there are precious few people using microphones these days that have any shot at replacing Dave Letterman.
We’re approaching an epidemic when cashiers at big box retail stores, bus drivers and hostesses at smorgasbord restaurants feel comfortable making interminable announcements without any training in the art of microphone use.
Shouldn’t there be a school that teaches would-be public broadcasters the art of making announcements? Most of the people making these announcements have little or no knowledge about where to set the volume or how close they should put their lips to the mike. They have no knowledge of how to do a sound check or what causes the screeching noise that makes you want to pull out a snub nose 38 and start shooting.
And, while requiring instruction in the technical aspects of microphone use would be a step in the right direction, it’s not enough. Not by a long shot. The thing that’s needed most is to test would-be announcers for self awareness and the ability to put things in perspective. As someone who has done a fair amount of public speaking I can tell you that it takes very little time to fall in love with the sound of your own voice. The problem is your audience. They’re not so easily charmed. Once you get beyond the basic message, audiences have an annoying habit of insisting that if you must continue on you have to say something useful or entertaining to them.
Here’s a case in point. Yesterday, the day before Thanksgiving, someone at the local supermarket got the idea that it might be fun to let anyone, I’m quoting here, “below the age of 90 come up to the customer service desk and demonstrate their turkey gobble.” Innocent shoppers were most likely picking up a few last minutes things for the Holiday when this fiasco was imposed on us. Trust me it didn’t make me want to add anything to my cart that I hadn’t planned on buying. Rather, it made me want to get out of there before I heard another grating gobble or more inane patter from the lady with the microphone. Judging from the number of contestants though, it’s obvious that people who don’t have access to a mike want that chance, even if it means imitating the sound of a bird whose brain weighs a quarter of an ounce.
And don’t tell me that in the scheme of things this is a trivial matter. If we don’t get this epidemic under control soon, we’ll regret it. Everybody will be walking around with mini hand-held mikes. NOW HERE THIS: We won’t be safe anywhere. Turkey gobbling is just the tip of the iceberg.
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Are You Hiding Something Honey?
Call me naïve, but I was shocked to learn recently that husbands and wives hide money from each other. Okay, the idea itself isn’t really that surprising. Money makes us crazy. But, did you know that an astounding 71% of us squirrel away money behind our spouses’ backs? Yes, says Money magazine which surveyed 1,001 men and women a while back. That’s huge.
Lately, I’ve been asking friends if they have ever hidden a few bucks from their better half. One brave woman told me, sheepishly perhaps, that at that very moment she had $700 hidden in the pocket of a fur coat that was permanently hibernating in her closet. When I think about how much money I could have socked away over the thirty plus years I’ve been married I’m nearly heartbroken.
Using a simple back of the envelope calculation, I estimate I could have at least a million bucks stashed between the pages of books, behind a filing cabinet or under my Jack Daniel’s barrel. What I could do with that money now. I wonder if my wife has a few million put away that she hasn’t mentioned. Just kidding, in fact here’s a full disclosure: When I heard about spouses hiding money I started doing it immediately. My wife, who could be a genuine CSI, found my stash in just 32 minutes. And, after editing this piece for me, she informed me that PricewaterhouseCoopers would soon be performing a full blown audit of the Len Fund.
Considering how many of us do secret cash, I’m surprised that banks haven’t developed programs to help us hide the dough and put it to good use in the bargain. I suppose it would be hard to keep secrets if the money was earning interest. I have no idea how I would explain a bank statement to my wife showing that I earned thousands of dollars in interest on money she didn’t know existed. Of course we could decide to file separate tax returns. But then there’s the CSI thing.
What do people actually do with the tens and twenties they hide? Maybe they use it for guilty pleasures like betting on the Super Bowl or buying a pair of scandalously expensive shoes. Of course with the economic mess we’re in, maybe the shoes can wait. And what is it that compels us to hide money in the first place? Maybe it’s simple human nature. Like squirrels hiding nuts for winter, we’re compelled to store up cash even if it’s a symbolic gesture. In our grandparents’ day, money was very scarce, given the depression and all. Afraid of banks, they hid money in plain sight in the old coffee can in case of a rainy day. Our parents probably followed suit and squirreled away loose change and a bit of paper money under the mattress. If Mama did it she must have had a reason.
Our motives are different today. Sadly, marriages don’t always last the way they did in times past. Some people hide cash because they aren’t sure about the future of their relationship. I believe the reasons are benign in the majority of cases though. The woman with the $700 in the fur coat told me she might want to splurge a little without having to justify her actions to her husband. She admitted that she might just slip a few extra dollars into the hands of one of her children from time to time. I’m sure many women can easily identify with that.
Regardless of motive, statistics don’t lie. There is a very good chance there is cash somewhere in your home that you don’t know about. I’m not trying to cause trouble, but isn’t a treasure hunt in order? Look at it this way. If you find, say $1,500, wouldn’t that really come in handy? When you combine it with the $1,800 you have stashed away, you could surprise your spouse with new drapes for the sunroom or a wide screen TV, depending on which one of you finds the Benjamins first.
Now before you start your treasure hunt let me save you some time. If you Google “where to hide money” you’ll get plenty of ideas about where to look. By the way, don’t overlook the freezer. Now if you do a thorough search and don’t find anything don’t panic. Show this column to your loved one and say something like, “Who would ever have thought people did such things?” Trust me planting that little seed will bear fruit. A year from now you’ll be measuring the windows for drapes.
Copyright 2008 len Serafino. All rights reserved.
Lately, I’ve been asking friends if they have ever hidden a few bucks from their better half. One brave woman told me, sheepishly perhaps, that at that very moment she had $700 hidden in the pocket of a fur coat that was permanently hibernating in her closet. When I think about how much money I could have socked away over the thirty plus years I’ve been married I’m nearly heartbroken.
Using a simple back of the envelope calculation, I estimate I could have at least a million bucks stashed between the pages of books, behind a filing cabinet or under my Jack Daniel’s barrel. What I could do with that money now. I wonder if my wife has a few million put away that she hasn’t mentioned. Just kidding, in fact here’s a full disclosure: When I heard about spouses hiding money I started doing it immediately. My wife, who could be a genuine CSI, found my stash in just 32 minutes. And, after editing this piece for me, she informed me that PricewaterhouseCoopers would soon be performing a full blown audit of the Len Fund.
Considering how many of us do secret cash, I’m surprised that banks haven’t developed programs to help us hide the dough and put it to good use in the bargain. I suppose it would be hard to keep secrets if the money was earning interest. I have no idea how I would explain a bank statement to my wife showing that I earned thousands of dollars in interest on money she didn’t know existed. Of course we could decide to file separate tax returns. But then there’s the CSI thing.
What do people actually do with the tens and twenties they hide? Maybe they use it for guilty pleasures like betting on the Super Bowl or buying a pair of scandalously expensive shoes. Of course with the economic mess we’re in, maybe the shoes can wait. And what is it that compels us to hide money in the first place? Maybe it’s simple human nature. Like squirrels hiding nuts for winter, we’re compelled to store up cash even if it’s a symbolic gesture. In our grandparents’ day, money was very scarce, given the depression and all. Afraid of banks, they hid money in plain sight in the old coffee can in case of a rainy day. Our parents probably followed suit and squirreled away loose change and a bit of paper money under the mattress. If Mama did it she must have had a reason.
Our motives are different today. Sadly, marriages don’t always last the way they did in times past. Some people hide cash because they aren’t sure about the future of their relationship. I believe the reasons are benign in the majority of cases though. The woman with the $700 in the fur coat told me she might want to splurge a little without having to justify her actions to her husband. She admitted that she might just slip a few extra dollars into the hands of one of her children from time to time. I’m sure many women can easily identify with that.
Regardless of motive, statistics don’t lie. There is a very good chance there is cash somewhere in your home that you don’t know about. I’m not trying to cause trouble, but isn’t a treasure hunt in order? Look at it this way. If you find, say $1,500, wouldn’t that really come in handy? When you combine it with the $1,800 you have stashed away, you could surprise your spouse with new drapes for the sunroom or a wide screen TV, depending on which one of you finds the Benjamins first.
Now before you start your treasure hunt let me save you some time. If you Google “where to hide money” you’ll get plenty of ideas about where to look. By the way, don’t overlook the freezer. Now if you do a thorough search and don’t find anything don’t panic. Show this column to your loved one and say something like, “Who would ever have thought people did such things?” Trust me planting that little seed will bear fruit. A year from now you’ll be measuring the windows for drapes.
Copyright 2008 len Serafino. All rights reserved.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Was That You I Saw on the Restaurant Wall?
I was having dinner one night in an Italian restaurant that does a decent job of recreating the look and feel of the old fashioned neighborhood Italian restaurants in the great Northeast. Those places with their simple tablecloths, hardwood floors and weighty dishes with tiny floral patterns had a homespun feel to them. Sitting in the chain operated restaurant I got a bit fixated on the large photos that seemed to cover every wall in the place.
Most of the photos were black and white shots taken between the turn of the last century and the 1950s: Ordinary people doing ordinary things. Some were posed and others were candid camera shots. Of course the pictures aren’t on the walls to hide cracks in the wallboard. They’re intended to make us feel like guests in the home of friends with lots of warm family photos on display. Such schmaltzy marketing is not limited to Italian restaurants either. Lots of restaurants adorn their walls with photos that remind us of simpler times. The selections often match the restaurant’s theme. In a country cooking spot for example, you’re likely to see men in overalls standing next to an old John Deere. Italian restaurants have pictures of people that look a lot like my grandparents.
Lately, I’ve taken to wondering who the people in these photos were. Whenever I eat in a restaurant that uses old time photos I find myself trying to imagine what their lives were really like. I also wonder how happy they would be to discover that their likenesses are plastered all over the walls in 570 Cracker Barrel locations in 41 states for example. Celebrities are happy to give restaurants a glossy 8x12 including an autograph. They want people to remember them. But I don’t think people that led quiet lives actually gave their permission to display their images in all these restaurants. It’s just as unlikely that they all happened to be professional models that were paid for the photo shoot and then signed releases in exchange for a few bucks.
I know it sounds like a small thing but put yourself in their shoes. After you’re gone do you want your picture hanging in a rib joint, a seafood shanty, or heaven forbid, a fast food outlet? What if the photo some marketing guru happens to select fails to take into account that you had a cold the day the picture was taken? (Is that a cold sore just under my lower lip?) Besides, what if the photographer was in a hurry and got your bad side? I know what you’re thinking. Who cares? I’ll be long gone by then. Well, some people might care if they knew about it.
Legally, there probably isn’t a thing to be done. But consider this: What if your picture is hanging on the wall of thirty-something diners in 14 states right now? Yes, how do you know your mug isn’t smiling down on table number 22 at a local bar and grill hundreds of miles from here? Face it, there’s no rule that says you have to be dead before they can make 500 copies of your likeness and put them on the wall overlooking the restaurant counter stools at Waffle Houses all over the south.
Right now my high school prom picture could be hanging in a delicatessen somewhere in Poughkeepsie. With my luck there’s probably a gravy stain on my cummerbund. If I knew which deli it was I suppose I could do something about it. But I don’t. I just checked to see if the photography studio that took my prom picture is still in business. They are. Just to be safe, tomorrow I will call them. I’ll demand that they cease and desist from selling or otherwise distributing my likeness to restaurants that think customers are more likely to have a good time if they’re surrounded by photos of perfect strangers.
You might think that in an era of digital cameras and camera equipped cell phones, easily downloaded to the Web, the possibility that your picture might be hanging on an eatery wall, is the least of your worries. Fair enough but if my picture is on the Web I can locate it and possibly have it removed. If my snapshot is hanging on the wall of Rudy’s Deli without my knowledge, that’s a problem. In addition to making a restaurant feel homey, those photos are implied endorsements. Suppose I don’t think Rudy makes a decent Reuben?
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.
Most of the photos were black and white shots taken between the turn of the last century and the 1950s: Ordinary people doing ordinary things. Some were posed and others were candid camera shots. Of course the pictures aren’t on the walls to hide cracks in the wallboard. They’re intended to make us feel like guests in the home of friends with lots of warm family photos on display. Such schmaltzy marketing is not limited to Italian restaurants either. Lots of restaurants adorn their walls with photos that remind us of simpler times. The selections often match the restaurant’s theme. In a country cooking spot for example, you’re likely to see men in overalls standing next to an old John Deere. Italian restaurants have pictures of people that look a lot like my grandparents.
Lately, I’ve taken to wondering who the people in these photos were. Whenever I eat in a restaurant that uses old time photos I find myself trying to imagine what their lives were really like. I also wonder how happy they would be to discover that their likenesses are plastered all over the walls in 570 Cracker Barrel locations in 41 states for example. Celebrities are happy to give restaurants a glossy 8x12 including an autograph. They want people to remember them. But I don’t think people that led quiet lives actually gave their permission to display their images in all these restaurants. It’s just as unlikely that they all happened to be professional models that were paid for the photo shoot and then signed releases in exchange for a few bucks.
I know it sounds like a small thing but put yourself in their shoes. After you’re gone do you want your picture hanging in a rib joint, a seafood shanty, or heaven forbid, a fast food outlet? What if the photo some marketing guru happens to select fails to take into account that you had a cold the day the picture was taken? (Is that a cold sore just under my lower lip?) Besides, what if the photographer was in a hurry and got your bad side? I know what you’re thinking. Who cares? I’ll be long gone by then. Well, some people might care if they knew about it.
Legally, there probably isn’t a thing to be done. But consider this: What if your picture is hanging on the wall of thirty-something diners in 14 states right now? Yes, how do you know your mug isn’t smiling down on table number 22 at a local bar and grill hundreds of miles from here? Face it, there’s no rule that says you have to be dead before they can make 500 copies of your likeness and put them on the wall overlooking the restaurant counter stools at Waffle Houses all over the south.
Right now my high school prom picture could be hanging in a delicatessen somewhere in Poughkeepsie. With my luck there’s probably a gravy stain on my cummerbund. If I knew which deli it was I suppose I could do something about it. But I don’t. I just checked to see if the photography studio that took my prom picture is still in business. They are. Just to be safe, tomorrow I will call them. I’ll demand that they cease and desist from selling or otherwise distributing my likeness to restaurants that think customers are more likely to have a good time if they’re surrounded by photos of perfect strangers.
You might think that in an era of digital cameras and camera equipped cell phones, easily downloaded to the Web, the possibility that your picture might be hanging on an eatery wall, is the least of your worries. Fair enough but if my picture is on the Web I can locate it and possibly have it removed. If my snapshot is hanging on the wall of Rudy’s Deli without my knowledge, that’s a problem. In addition to making a restaurant feel homey, those photos are implied endorsements. Suppose I don’t think Rudy makes a decent Reuben?
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Requiem for the Wristwatch?
“Does anybody really know what time it is?
Does anybody really care?
If so I can’t imagine why
We’ve all got time enough to cry”
Robert Lamm - Chicago
I’ll admit it. I’ve fallen a little behind the times lately. I was in the waiting area of a major medical center when I first noticed it. There was something missing on the wrists of many passersby. As I made my way to the hospital cafeteria I grew even more concerned. I checked my watch. It was still there. Only now it seems I may soon be in the minority. There was a time when most of us never left the house without wearing a wristwatch. I remember when forgetting my watch would ruin my entire day. Would the executives I ran across in meetings and in the hallways notice I was without a timepiece? Would they suspect that I was a footloose and fancy-free sort who wasn’t concerned about being on time?
Well, times certainly do change. One of the reasons fewer people are wearing watches these days is that they have so many other options, PDAs and cell phones for example. But even if you’re just sitting at home there’s rarely a need to get up and check the time. It’s right there on your TV, it’s in the lower right hand corner of your laptop. Your microwave, your coffee maker, refrigerator, stereo and your DVD player all tell time. Start your car and you’ll get the time.
In our house we have no fewer than 21 gadgets that give us the time. Of those, only 7 are exclusively time pieces. The rest do the job they were intended to do and give us the time as a little bonus. Some people are afraid of thunder and lightening. Not me. What I live in mortal fear of is a power failure. Thankfully it doesn’t happen often but when it does it takes me a week to get all my timepieces synchronized again. It’s murder. Switching back to standard time last week was another nightmare. I think we’re completely synchronized now. Wait! The golf ball clock…
There’s another reason why people don’t need watches the way they once did. We live in a much more casual world than we did 50 years ago. Workers used to routinely punch a time clock. You could be fired for being late for work. Lunch and break times were strictly monitored and enforced. When was the last time you were reprimanded for not being at your desk by 8:00 A.M.? Have you signed out before lunch lately? I didn’t think so.
We don’t adhere to strict schedules the way we once did. Of course, there aren’t nearly as many of us producing widgets on an hourly basis anymore. Work today involves a great deal more mental productivity than physical output. Most of us don’t turn pieces of steel into something useful. We think, we communicate and we tap the result into a computer so it can be sent to other thinkers and tappers. Factory workers once did their work in the plant and left it there at day’s end. Modern workers are just as likely to get an idea at a cocktail party or at three a.m. There’s no way to control that. Time may still be money but it’s no longer limited to the day shift.
Activities outside of work also ran on schedule once upon a time. If you wanted to see your favorite evening news show at 6:00 P.M. you had to be in front of your TV set on time. Nowadays we have TiVo so there’s no need to worry. The appointed hour for many things isn’t as definite as it once was. You have a two o’clock doctor’s appointment? No worries. The only reason to be there by 2:00 is to improve your odds that the doctor will see you by 3:00.
As a practical matter wristwatches have been around since late in the seventeenth century. That’s a 300 plus year run. Is it over for the wristwatch? Thanks to evolution, I wouldn’t count out the watch yet. For one thing, watches still work as jewelry. Having a Rolex remains a noteworthy status symbol. And, creative technology and component miniaturization could give the watch new life. Already available are watches that combine a digital watch, music player, and video player in one unit. Some day we’ll probably use a wristwatch to control all those home appliances that also keep time for us. Will anybody really know what time it is? Care or not, you will.
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.
Does anybody really care?
If so I can’t imagine why
We’ve all got time enough to cry”
Robert Lamm - Chicago
I’ll admit it. I’ve fallen a little behind the times lately. I was in the waiting area of a major medical center when I first noticed it. There was something missing on the wrists of many passersby. As I made my way to the hospital cafeteria I grew even more concerned. I checked my watch. It was still there. Only now it seems I may soon be in the minority. There was a time when most of us never left the house without wearing a wristwatch. I remember when forgetting my watch would ruin my entire day. Would the executives I ran across in meetings and in the hallways notice I was without a timepiece? Would they suspect that I was a footloose and fancy-free sort who wasn’t concerned about being on time?
Well, times certainly do change. One of the reasons fewer people are wearing watches these days is that they have so many other options, PDAs and cell phones for example. But even if you’re just sitting at home there’s rarely a need to get up and check the time. It’s right there on your TV, it’s in the lower right hand corner of your laptop. Your microwave, your coffee maker, refrigerator, stereo and your DVD player all tell time. Start your car and you’ll get the time.
In our house we have no fewer than 21 gadgets that give us the time. Of those, only 7 are exclusively time pieces. The rest do the job they were intended to do and give us the time as a little bonus. Some people are afraid of thunder and lightening. Not me. What I live in mortal fear of is a power failure. Thankfully it doesn’t happen often but when it does it takes me a week to get all my timepieces synchronized again. It’s murder. Switching back to standard time last week was another nightmare. I think we’re completely synchronized now. Wait! The golf ball clock…
There’s another reason why people don’t need watches the way they once did. We live in a much more casual world than we did 50 years ago. Workers used to routinely punch a time clock. You could be fired for being late for work. Lunch and break times were strictly monitored and enforced. When was the last time you were reprimanded for not being at your desk by 8:00 A.M.? Have you signed out before lunch lately? I didn’t think so.
We don’t adhere to strict schedules the way we once did. Of course, there aren’t nearly as many of us producing widgets on an hourly basis anymore. Work today involves a great deal more mental productivity than physical output. Most of us don’t turn pieces of steel into something useful. We think, we communicate and we tap the result into a computer so it can be sent to other thinkers and tappers. Factory workers once did their work in the plant and left it there at day’s end. Modern workers are just as likely to get an idea at a cocktail party or at three a.m. There’s no way to control that. Time may still be money but it’s no longer limited to the day shift.
Activities outside of work also ran on schedule once upon a time. If you wanted to see your favorite evening news show at 6:00 P.M. you had to be in front of your TV set on time. Nowadays we have TiVo so there’s no need to worry. The appointed hour for many things isn’t as definite as it once was. You have a two o’clock doctor’s appointment? No worries. The only reason to be there by 2:00 is to improve your odds that the doctor will see you by 3:00.
As a practical matter wristwatches have been around since late in the seventeenth century. That’s a 300 plus year run. Is it over for the wristwatch? Thanks to evolution, I wouldn’t count out the watch yet. For one thing, watches still work as jewelry. Having a Rolex remains a noteworthy status symbol. And, creative technology and component miniaturization could give the watch new life. Already available are watches that combine a digital watch, music player, and video player in one unit. Some day we’ll probably use a wristwatch to control all those home appliances that also keep time for us. Will anybody really know what time it is? Care or not, you will.
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.
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