“The Democrats are the party that says government will make you smarter, taller, richer and remove the crab grass on your lawn. The Republicans are the party that says government doesn’t work and then get elected and prove it.”
Forget crab grass, what about moles?
Not so fast, Jeff.
Thousands Pledge To Egg Jeff Bezos’s Mega-Yacht As It Passes Through Rotterdam Bridge.
“’Rotterdam was built from the rubble by Rotterdammers and we don’t just take it apart for the phallus symbol of a megalomaniac billionaire,’ reads a statement on a Facebook group for the protest. ‘Not without a fight.'”
And dig this, a journo with a sense of humor:
“The group currently shows 4,000 people committed to attend, and another 14,000 interested. Due to the widespread public outcry, it appears that the bridge adjustment is no longer approved, and Y271 may need to find another way to sea. Knowing Jeff Bezos, he’ll probably arrange for thousands of underpaid Amazon workers to drag the yacht overland, with a 48-hour delivery guarantee.”
Bezos’s net worth is estimated at $181.1 billion. His yacht cost $485 million. If my math is right (it’s a lot of zeroes to keep track of) that represents .0268% of his net worth. So that’s like a millionaire buying a boat, make that a kayak, for $2,680.*
*someone please check my math
A phrase for our times by The New York Times’ Noreen Malone. Subtitle, “When 25 million people leave their jobs, it’s about more than just burnout.”
Among the insights:
“. . . last month a Business Insider article declared that companies ‘are actively driving their white-collar workers away by presuming that employees are still thinking the way they did before the pandemic: that their jobs are the most important things in their lives. . .'”
“. . . a Gallup poll that showed that last year only a third of American workers said they were engaged in their jobs.”
Malone adds:
“Recently, I stumbled across the latest data on happiness from the General Social Survey, a gold-standard poll that has been tracking Americans’ attitudes since 1972. It’s shocking. Since the pandemic began, Americans’ happiness has cratered. The graph looks like the heart rate has plunged and they’re paging everyone on the floor to revive the patient. For the first time since the survey began, more people say they’re not too happy than say they’re very happy.”
Given the constant updating of statistics, the physical devastation caused by the pandemic is obvious. In contrast, the negative mental health effects lurk below the surface. If like me, you’re firmly on the ‘happy side’ of the ledger, keep in mind that we’re in the minority. Consequently, let’s strive to grant others more grace than normal.
From the New York Times, “Accounting Firm Cuts Ties With Trump and Retracts Financial Statements”.
“The firm (Mazars USA). . . disclosed that, while compiling the information for Mr. Trump, it had ‘become aware of departures from accounting principles generally accepted in the United States of America.'”
Someone shred those documents and flush them down the nearest toilet.
Thanks to my fam for hijacking the humble blog this weekend. . . the Good Wife’s idea, the daughters’ execution. After editing the beginning of the post, youngest said to eldest, “It’s kinda creepy how well you mimic dad’s writing voice.”
There are an overwhelming number of intractable problems in the world. You being stuck with me as primary author again. A slow walk to possible war in Ukraine. Environmental degradation. Global poverty. Pandemic induced loneliness and related mental health challenges. Endless Super Bowl crypto commercials.
But there’s at least one glimmer of hope that has not been reported widely enough.
From DutchNews:
“Bezos’ three-masted yacht is being built by the Oceano shipyard in Alblasserdam but is too big to pass under the bridge when the central section is raised to its full height. Now Oceano and Bezos have approached the council about temporarily dismantling the bridge at their cost. According to Rijnmond, city officials are prepared to take that step, despite the opposition of local history experts and others.”
How wonderful that Bezos’ yacht will not be stuck in Alblasserdam. It makes you wonder what else is possible when city councils and others truly commit to the greater good.
Postscript: A reader just asked, “Is that sarcasm?” YES.
It’s hard to believe, given my good looks, but as of today I have completed my sixth decade on Planet Earth. Yesterday I “celebrated” the big 6-0 by heading to the local YMCA to attempt 60×100 yards, and although some spectators might claim to have seen me miss the send off on a couple of the later 100s, there are no official reports supporting this.
Given that I’m clearly starting to lose it (What other evidence does one need to prove that “it” is being lost than thinking 60×100 constitutes a birthday celebration? None, in my book.) I’m passing the baton for today’s birthday post to the two best writers in the family – my incredible daughters who are always right about everything, A and J.
“Hello, loyal readers of Pressing Pause! We are pleased that you read our dad’s blog – it makes him happy, so it makes us happy. But we can’t give him too big of a head (it’s important to stay vigilant about this) so please don’t encourage him too much.
In honor of our dad’s 60th, we’d like to share a few fond memories from over the years. Before we were old enough to really know how lucky we were, his job gave our family the chance to live in China and see pandas, play elaborate hide and seek games, get pneumonia, make friends, and learn tai-chi. Five years later, we got lucky again, and his job took us all to Norway. There, we did very little except go on walks, because it’s an expensive country and if you know our dad then we don’t need to elaborate any further. We’ve also had a blast cheering for our dad at countless races – running races, biking races, swimming races, and, believe it or not, races that combine running, biking, and swimming. His interests really are inspiringly varied!
And he’s been there for some of the most important moments of our life, like when he took our whole family to see Tears of a Camel, a movie that featured an excruciatingly long shot of a camel’s eye and marked the first time both of us fell asleep during a movie. He has also been there cheering us on for some of the other most important moments of our life, like graduations, violin recitals, swim meets, business ventures, cross-country moves and new jobs. We think he’s been the best dad we could have asked for, and for his birthday, we wanted to make sure that everyone else knew it, too.
We can’t believe we get to say that the author of Pressing Pause is our dad, and we’re thrilled to wish him a happy 60th birthday. To sixty more!
Love,A and J
P.S. He doesn’t love boats, just in case that’s a useful piece of information for any of his friends out there that like to prank him.”
Watch “The Tindler Swindler” on Netflix and you’ll never online date again.
Watch the last episode of Euphoria on HBO Max (Season 2, Episode 5), and if you haven’t started, you’ll never do drugs.
I don’t write as much about my athletic exploits as I once did. Probably, as I fast approach my sixth decade, because I’m not competing anymore. I should probably stop referring to myself as a triathlete. Rest assured though, I’m still swimming, cycling, and running. And now that I’m healthier than a year ago, hitting it a little harder.
Take yesterday’s Capitol Forest run for example. Mid-day I started to think about doing the 13ish mile Mima Falls loop. The weather was ideal, 50 degrees, sunny, still. So I texted The Good Wife my route—Mima East, Mima West, McKenny, Campground—and probable timeline just in case I was mauled by a bear or something—and headed to the trailhead.
Cap Forest is LARGE and apart from my loop, I don’t know it well. I was never a Boy Scout, so I began the run with shit preparation. I suppose I get a few points for alerting the The Gal Pal of my plans, but I headed out at 2:45p without calories, phone, jacket, or a map of the forest. I was carrying 4 ounces of Gatorade.
After Mima Falls (mile 2), there’s a sign that says, “Steep, remote trails from this point.” It was a mix of slow running and hiking to the high point around mile 5+. I saw a fair number of people on the way to the falls, but afterwards NO ONE. I felt like I was the only person in the forest. Not even any animal life, no birds, no rodents, no nuthin’.
I was trying to keep my average pace under 10 minutes/mile and didn’t appreciate it when Siri would announce via my 🍎 watch , “Mile 6, total time 63 minutes, last mile, 10:21.” I was looking forward to the second half being much flatter and even losing the hard-earned earlier elevation.
At mile 8, I was feeling fatigued, walking every riser, but confident I could grind out the last 5. When suddenly I came to a supe-depressing sign, “Trail Closed—Falling Trees.” SHIT. I climbed over the signed fence wondering just how bad could it be. Only to find out 100 meters later that it couldn’t have been worse. I was met by several giant pines whose downed branches rose about 30 feet above like a green tsunami.
Wut do I do now? Travis would’ve known which fire trails to take back as a shortcut, keeping the distance to the planned 13, but I was without my wingman. The safest and only option I could think of was to back track the whole way.
I didn’t want to run 8.4 more miles, but that’s what I did. We’ll, kinda ran. More of a hike-run or run-hike. I didn’t enjoy the return because I was too busy calculating things. “Okay, at this pace, I get back right after sunset. If I slow too much, it will be dark, meaning cold and because the trail is muddy and rocky in places, footing will be dicey.” I had already rolled my ankle twice. I would’ve been in trouble if I had broken my ankle or gone down on some of the muddy descents. Needless to say I was solely focused on my pace and footing, pretty much blanking on the beautiful surroundings and sunset.
I survived the return, arriving at the car a little past sunset. Weirdly, in the last few miles I came across two different pairs of mountain bikers and one young female runner heading outbound into the dark. She smiled and waved at me like it was no big deal, “I trail run in the forest, in the dark, by myself, all the time.”
Adventurers often say a good plan should make you nervous about whether you can pull it off or not. My plan didn’t make me nervous, but the unexpected tweak most definitely did. I felt vulnerable in the middle of the forest, by myself, very late in the day, far from civilization.
Thankfully though I survived to swim, cycle, and run another day, or God willing, decade.
For those keeping score at home, 16.8 miles, average pace 10:38, total elevation, 1,975’.
In college, in “The Sociology of Education” more specifically, I found “The Gospel According to the Harvard Business School” a fascinating read. As a result, this article caught my eye, “What is Harvard Business School’s Secret Sauce“?
The author asks whether or not sound judgement under pressure can be taught. The Harvard Business School definitely thinks so. How?
“Students study about 500 cases during their two years at the school. . .”
Case studies are one of my all-time fave teaching methods, but I have to believe students reach a point of diminishing returns well before Case #500. I suspect fewer, more in-depth cases would yield better results.
Has the HBS or anyone else studied their graduates’ judgement relative to other non-HBS grads? How would one create a baseline of HBS grads pre-HBS judgement under pressure from which to compare? More generally, how would one conduct such studies?
Messy at best.
Pressing Pause 