After yesterday’s orgy of capitalist excess (if you missed it, you can still see it all right here), today I’m taking us back to an earlier, grittier time. In fact, back to a time when I was only 8 or 9 years old. If you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be an 8 or 9 year old boy, this may come as somewhat of a revelation. In my case, The Beverly Hillbillies was one of my favorite prime time TV shows. And coprolalia was the order of the day. If either of those cultural/linguistic tidbits sails right past your earlobe, you can look it up. And remember, in today’s world (unlike back in the 60’s), GIYF (Google Is Your Friend).
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My favorite joke when I was 8 or 9 was a sort of take-off on the Jed Clampett premise. It goes something like this…
A buzzard, a turtle, and a rabbit are down on their luck. So they set out on a long journey seeking better fortune. After many long days tramping the trails, they set up camp one cold night in a desolate dusty place devoid of food, water, or firewood. Think “Texas” before they had “On The Border.”
The buzzard and the turtle plop themselves down on the ground for another cold hungry over-night. The rabbit, on the other hand, is having none of it. “I saw a herd of longhorns a ways back. I’m gonna go get us some dried cow-pies so at least we can make a fire and stay warm. “Good luck with that,” say the buzzard and the turtle. “We’ll see you when you get back.”
The rabbit, of course, loses his way and fails to return. Next day the buzzard and the turtle trudge on in search of more hospitable lodging. After many more months on the road – in fact come springtime – they finally find a spot that looks promising. So they claim it as their own and start building a cabin. As fate would have it, while digging a well for water, they strike oil, become very rich, upgrade the cabin to a mansion, and hire a butler.
Meanwhile, the rabbit, having found some cow pies but having lost his friends, comes up the road nearly worn-out. And he’s still mad over their laziness when they first were separated. First person he meets is the butler, who shows him inside. The mansion is opulently appointed with gold-plated fixtures and all the latest amenities.
“I’m looking for some friends I lost last winter and I was wondering if you’ve seen a buzzard or a turtle around these parts,” says the rabbit.
“I’m very sorry sir,” says the butler with a highly refined Brahmin accent, “but Mr. Buzz-ARD is out in the yahd.”
Taken aback, the rabbit says, “Mr. Buzz-ARD? Well then, how about a turtle?”
“Nosir,” says the butler, “but Mr. Tur-TELL is down by the well.”
Unable to contain himself any longer, the rabbit fumes, “OK. Why don’t you go get Mr. Buzz-ARD from out in the yahd and Mr. Tur-TELL from down by the well, and tell them both… that Mr. Rah-BIT is here with their SHIT!”
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Like I said, 8 or 9 year-old-boys: Whatcha gonna do, eh?
Quick: What is the opposite of Schadenfreude? If you are unfamiliar with this proto-Germanic term, please see previous post, here. Now, what do you think? Not so easy to come up with it in a single word, is it? The Buddhists have a pretty good approximation with the term “mudita.” You can see a discussion of various alternatives, here. The best I could come up with on the spur of the moment was “vicarious pleasure.”
In any case, whatever you call it, that’s what I’m experiencing today on behalf of Sir Lucian Grainge, Chairman of Universal Music Group (UMG). Thanks to the UMG IPO, he is a couple of hundred million dollars richer than he was yesterday. Since I am unlikely to see a payday this large any time soon – or indeed, EVER – just allow me to say, “Congrats, man.” And thanks for allowing me the vicarious pleasure of posting on your behalf. Excerpt from yesterday’s Rolling Stone article is below. Or, you can read the full article here.
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Guess what music industry gossips couldn’t wait to discover within the pages of Universal’s listing prospectus last week? Of course: The details of the monetary compensation of Sir Lucian Grainge, the L.A.-based British exec who has led UMG as global CEO and chairman for the past decade.
Here goes, then: Grainge is getting a $150 million bonus for his troubles post-listing, plus 1 percent of whatever valuation Universal achieves above $30 billion. (So if UMG hits a $40 billion market cap, Grainge will get an additional $100 million; if it hits $50 billion, he’ll get another $200 million, and so on.)
This is in addition to a bonus Grainge has already received this year of approximately $20 million related to the acquisition earlier this year of 10 percent of UMG by a consortium led by Tencent — and in addition to other bonuses related to Pershing Square’s recent buyout of 10 percent of UMG.
In short, there’s a good chance that Grainge will pocket bonuses from UMG worth over $200 million this year. And it’s plausible this figure could even soar up beyond $300 million.
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Oh, you know: Sir Lucian with Taylor, with Billie, and with…Sir Elton and Lady Gaga!
I recently ran afoul of some former friends on the Internet. They took exception to my negative response to a post that posited employers should have no right of refusal when it comes to an employee’s vax status. See the cartoon around the middle of my previous post, here. Their bottom line? “My body, my choice. Period.” My bottom line? “Your liberty ends where my nose begins.”
Also, unless you own your own company or are represented by an exceptionally strong union, your performance of any job function is primarily controlled by your employer, not by you. That makes any faux-libertarian take on potentially infectious body fluids projected into a shared indoor workspace entirely moot in my book – and perhaps also in your employer’s book too? Attending 3 funerals in one month for friends and family who died too young either directly or indirectly due to the pandemic puts a serious damper on my willingness to put up with very much antivax bullsh*t. Not to put too fine a point on it.
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Against that backdrop comes today’s business news: The strike against Nabisco is over. This provides Oreo junkies like me with renewed access to the unhealthy snack treat we all know and love.
From the strike-ending story:
A weeks-long strike by Nabisco employees in five states ended Saturday. The union announced that its members had overwhelmingly approved a four-year contract with the parent company of the maker of Oreos, Ritz Crackers and other snacks.
The employees are members of the Bakery, Confectionery, Tobacco Workers and Grain Millers International Union. The Union had clashed with Nabisco over proposed changes to shift lengths and overtime rules. The strike had brought renewed attention to the snack giant. Nabisco faced criticism from union members over long shifts, pensions and the production of some products in Mexico…
In an update posted on its website Saturday, the union said that striking workers will return to their jobs this week… Workers will get raises of 2.25% in 2021 and 60 cents per hour in each of the next three years.
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Let me just say that one more time: A two-and-a-half-percent raise in 2021. Plus sixty cents an hour in each of the next three years. And this was supposed to be a victory for organized labor? Sheesh. It’s almost enough to convince some folks to start their own cookie company – as if the hard-line corporate vax stance wasn’t enough motivation already. Then again, if the Baker’s Union wants to go to bat for any staunchly anti-vax among their number, I say, have at it. They’ll have at least as much leverage for that as for that big sixty-cent-an-hour pay hike that’s coming in 2022, 2023, and 2024. Ahem.
For the longest time there’s been nothing even remotely funny on the Internet. Then, all of a sudden today, the heavens opened and all of this poured out. Thanks be to the Internet gods for providing us with a reminder that there is nothing sillier than the human spirit unleashed on the world. This little ray of sunshine has been brought to you by the grateful folks at dewconsulting.net. Yer welcome.
It was an honor to have known you, Sallyzee. You turned each one around you into a better person: Seeing further, understanding more deeply, emulating more fully, the One we all adore. Well done good and faithful servant. May your memory be a blessing. As long as life shall last, you will never be forgotten.
Between last week’s quick trip to Dallas, and Labor Day weekend’s berry-picking and jam-making – plus my general forgetfulness – I suddenly notice I’ve not posted here in a while. But never fear, to make up the difference we’ve got photos galore – from recent, to age-old. Enjoy them all. And thanks to Elise/Anne/Rachel’s efforts in the kitchen, we’ll be enjoying plenty of PB&J for the coming year. More jam-making photos on Anne’s FB page if you’re into that sort of social media thing. If not, read on below.
We always used to head south to Mora, NM for our annual Labor Day berry-picking pilgrimage. But this year we headed north to the Berry Patch in Brighton, CO. There they have far fewer berries, but they’re every bit as sweet. And as an added bonus, it’s a whole lot closer to home. A few pix from past-years’ pickings, below: That’s a whole lotta PB&J there in that trunk!
Now if you’re ready for a little trip thru the way-back machine, take a gander at these Wolf Bros. pick-yer-own favorites from over a half century ago. And if you’re very lucky – also if you squint real hard – you may even recognize one or two of the pickers.