I have been married and faithful to my wife for 30 years so becoming single at the ripe age (never say ‘old’) of 60+ is something unanticipated and unplanned. I am still walking a strange path through the dating jungle, but can offer some early observations, especially with regard to Internet Dating at my age.
I was on the local newspaper’s web site when I noticed a big ad for Australia’s biggest dating service with a link to their website. It turns out the newspaper owns the dating service, which is probably more profitable than selling the news. One click, a few quick forms, and Bingo – my profile is available to the world.
It did not take long for the exploratory introductions (called ‘kisses’) began to arrive. In a typical week, about 30 unsolicited kisses show up in the special mailbox. It is impossible to hold a job and respond informatively to every inquiry. So here are a few rules I have developed to screen the volume of inquiries.
1. Decline all inquiries from anyone who looks really attractive or really young. At my age, no one looks that beautiful and I know they are not young so the pictures obviously lie.
2. Decline all inquiries from anyone who looks really unattractive or really old. It’s not their look that kills it; it is the fact they are too stupid to realize how unappealing their pictures are.
3. People who refuse to show a picture must have a reason.
4. Avoid anyone who claims “some college or university.” This means they drove by a school on their way to work in the beauty salon.
5. Someone who claims ‘degree’ may have a university degree or a degree in word processing. “Post graduate” is safer but not completely secure.
6. Avoid anyone who is working in some industry and lists their role only as “professional.” I talked to a woman in the publishing industry – with 17 years experience! Maybe she can advise me on publishing my book? Turns out she is a secretary in the marketing department for the publisher of crossword puzzles.
7. Assume the real age is 3-5 years older than the listed age. Either everyone’s memory is failing and they can no longer count or they are hoping to rediscover youth.
8. Cut anyone who is looking for a partner that lives within 500 kilometers of a city; this person is desperate.
If you receive an email where they actually have to write something instead of check the box to send a pre-written comment, look out for the following.
9. The dating service does not offer Spell Check. When every word that exceeds 2 syllables is misspelled, it is probably a good indication the sender is not too smart.
10. When someone takes the time to ‘buy’ an email stamp, it usually results in a few paragraphs of prose. The 1-2 sentence request for contact is not impressive. Either they have nothing to say or are engaged in mass mailing inquiries.
Let me share some actual experiences, changing the names to protect the guilty.
****
I am contacted by ‘Anne.’ Her picture shows a younger, very attractive woman; her profile indicates Post Graduate Degree / Professional / Business Owner. Sounds great! I am excited.
We exchange emails; she is very articulate. No misspelled words. She is a psycho therapist; my ex wife always told me I should look for a therapist!
We talk on the phone and she gives me advice on how to avoid the problems of Internet dating. She seems nice and concerned about my welfare. We agree to meet for lunch. This is looking promising. Maybe being single is not so bad.
I arrive early and wait outside on a beautiful sunny day. My mobile phone rings; it is Anne. “I am at the gate in front, where are you?”
I look around but do not see her. The only one at the gate is an older lady, who is very fat …. and has a mobile phone to her ear.
****
I am contacted by Bonnie. She is very attractive and is from Holland. I have worked in Holland and came to admire the tall, handsome women there. At my New Year’s Eve party last year, several Dutch women came as friends of a friend – I know there is a Dutch community here and the women are attractive. It must be my lucky day.
We exchange emails. She writes well and has an acerbic wit which makes me chuckle. She is insistent that my picture is recent and my profile is correct – this is a good sign.
We talk on the phone and I immediately detect her Dutch accent. She seems genuine. We agree to meet for breakfast. This looks promising.
I am stuck in traffic and I text that I will be a few minutes late; she responds she is already at the restaurant.
I arrive 5 minutes late walking quickly and arrive almost out of breath. I look around but do not see Bonnie to my surprise. Maybe she is in the bathroom? Then I notice an old woman with a slight resemblance to Bonnie. I wonder if it could be Bonnie’s mother?
****
No more lunches or breakfasts; the pain lingers too long. The new routine is a cup of coffee or a glass of wine. The coffee can be consumed quickly and the escape plan implemented. The wine works too; drink it quickly and order a second glass – it dulls the senses.
****
I received the following email from a professional, degreed woman who owns her own business.
“I am sure that your accrewed knowlege is a breathe of fresh air here. I have just had a wonderfully busy past weekend travelling to Jamberoo with my work which is breathtakingly exquisite with its undulating pains and green pastures and just a hop skip amd jump is nearby Kiama a beautiful beach resort-then went on to Coldale another beachside small town.”
I do not know what her business is but am pretty sure it does not involve writing anything.
****
I receive contact from Candy, who has a cute picture, a degree, and owns a business. I meet her for a light dinner. Not sure where the degree is from; she seems a bit vague. She was a partner in a singles event service but her partner ran off with the business; not sure how you run off with a singles business, but what do I know.
During a lull in the conversation, she asks “so what do you do?” “I am the CEO of a property company here.” “What’s a CEO? Is it like an accountant or something?”
She is delightful but her degree must be from 8th grade primary school. Live and learn.
****
Most guys I know are motivated in part (actually in large part) by sex. After my divorce, I expected my sex life to improve compared to recent years of marriage. I was surprised how available sex was after divorce but even more surprised how unfulfilling it was when decoupled from a deeper emotional attachment.
I wonder how the suicide bombers who expect 21 virgins waiting for them in paradise would feel if they were told there was a reason the women were still virgins and were likely to remain virgins long after the bombing. My guess is there would be fewer bombings. Maybe the CIA should propagate such rumors.
****
Despite the false starts and unexpected twists in my journey, I have met some really nice women and have enjoyed serious relationships and good friendships. And I remain ever optimistic about the future but wonder if there is not a better way to meet people.
04 October 2010
26 September 2010
A Soap Story
This week I achieved perfection for the first time. It was an amazing feeling to accomplish something so difficult after so many years of effort.
For someone who grew up in a cost conscious environment with parents’ attitudes shaped by The Great Depression, it was the ultimate achievement. For believers in “A penny saved is a penny earned,” it was winning the lottery. And for those of us who were lectured to ‘clean our plates’ at dinner because of the starving children in Indian and China, it was a moment of celebration.
For someone who worships efficiency, it was the Holy Grail. If you believe in environmental conservation, it was the ultimate “green” moment.
First, I should provide some context.
For my entire life, I have used bars of soap to clean myself. As a baby, my mother used soap in my baths. As an adult, I continue to prefer bars of soap when showering or bathing.
I feel very much in the minority in this regard, however. My sons use bath/shower gel; my ex girlfriend used a particular and expensive gel; my gym only provides gel (the bulk variety with a heavy dose of artificial scent). When I stay in hotels, they often provide miniature soap bars but multiple bottles of bath and shower gel. The consumers appear to have turned to gel and abandoned soap bars.
I am not sure why this has happened. To me, gel is like shampoo. I shampoo my hair but why would I want to shampoo my body? Years ago, I regularly shampooed the family dog; but he had fur. He also did not appreciate it and went into escape mode whenever I approached with the shampoo and a bucket of water. I tried to shampoo the family cat one time; it took weeks for the claw marks on my hands and arms to heal.
I prefer plain soap. Most soaps have many added ingredients. Some make you smell like strawberries or other ‘pleasant’ scents. I do really not want to smell like a strawberry. A friend gave me a present that included a few soaps. One makes you smell like cucumbers. I don’t want to smell like a cucumber either.
Only mad scientists can understand other listed ingredients in soap. One of the gift bars has ingredients like hydrogenated rice bran – sounds like I should be eating this instead of washing with it. Other inclusions are: coconut stearic acid, glycerine, sodium hydroxide, zinc oxide, citric acid, and perfume. What happened to plain soap?
After an extensive search, I found a relatively plain soap. The actual brand is called ‘Simple Soap.’ I just do not understand why simple soap costs more than complicated soap. Maybe they put all the ingredients in the soap and then take them out. It is confusing.
The increasing consumer preference for gel may make my accomplishment increasingly rare in society. Maybe it will stand as an eternal record.
Perhaps, I overstate the importance of my feat. It is not a miracle. An image of the Virgin Mary did not appear in my soap bar. My soap did not wash away poverty or feed anyone. I still tend to sink when I swim too many laps at the local pool. The accomplishment is much more modest; it is just remarkable to me within the narrow confines of my daily experience.
Everyone who uses bars of soap understands that the bar slowly decreases in size as it is used. Eventually, the remaining piece of soap becomes too small to use practically and is discarded. The challenge for all of us soap bar users is when to discard the diminishing residual bar.
Soap does not cost much money, especially, if you buy the perfumed variety. So continuing to use the ever-vanishing bar is not just a money saving technique. It is more about being efficient and not wasteful. Perhaps, it is a moral statement committing to use environmental resources wisely. Or maybe it is the legacy of the Great Depression, or maybe something else. Regardless, the challenge of washing with a residual fragment of soap is, for me and fellow bar washers, a common occurrence.
Eventually, I discard the residual soap fragment and start over with a new, full sized bar. Sometimes, I drop the fragment on the floor of the shower and it disappears down the drain. Occasionally, I will toss the fragment in the toilet; that requires walking from the shower carrying wet soap and then rinsing my hands of the offending soap. It is usually easier just to leave the soap in the soap dish and let the fragments just accumulate; after a year or two all are discarded when I throw out the disgusting soap dish.
But today the “miracle” happened. I used a bar of soap until it was no more. 100% used; no soap fragment remained to be discarded. I looked in disbelief at my hands as I stood in the shower that morning. I looked at the shower floor; I looked at my body to see if a fragment had latched on to a leg or arm. The bar of soap had completely dissolved with no trace remaining as I finished my shower. I had achieved perfect efficiency with no waste. The starving children in India and China will be pleased.
For someone who grew up in a cost conscious environment with parents’ attitudes shaped by The Great Depression, it was the ultimate achievement. For believers in “A penny saved is a penny earned,” it was winning the lottery. And for those of us who were lectured to ‘clean our plates’ at dinner because of the starving children in Indian and China, it was a moment of celebration.
For someone who worships efficiency, it was the Holy Grail. If you believe in environmental conservation, it was the ultimate “green” moment.
First, I should provide some context.
For my entire life, I have used bars of soap to clean myself. As a baby, my mother used soap in my baths. As an adult, I continue to prefer bars of soap when showering or bathing.
I feel very much in the minority in this regard, however. My sons use bath/shower gel; my ex girlfriend used a particular and expensive gel; my gym only provides gel (the bulk variety with a heavy dose of artificial scent). When I stay in hotels, they often provide miniature soap bars but multiple bottles of bath and shower gel. The consumers appear to have turned to gel and abandoned soap bars.
I am not sure why this has happened. To me, gel is like shampoo. I shampoo my hair but why would I want to shampoo my body? Years ago, I regularly shampooed the family dog; but he had fur. He also did not appreciate it and went into escape mode whenever I approached with the shampoo and a bucket of water. I tried to shampoo the family cat one time; it took weeks for the claw marks on my hands and arms to heal.
I prefer plain soap. Most soaps have many added ingredients. Some make you smell like strawberries or other ‘pleasant’ scents. I do really not want to smell like a strawberry. A friend gave me a present that included a few soaps. One makes you smell like cucumbers. I don’t want to smell like a cucumber either.
Only mad scientists can understand other listed ingredients in soap. One of the gift bars has ingredients like hydrogenated rice bran – sounds like I should be eating this instead of washing with it. Other inclusions are: coconut stearic acid, glycerine, sodium hydroxide, zinc oxide, citric acid, and perfume. What happened to plain soap?
After an extensive search, I found a relatively plain soap. The actual brand is called ‘Simple Soap.’ I just do not understand why simple soap costs more than complicated soap. Maybe they put all the ingredients in the soap and then take them out. It is confusing.
The increasing consumer preference for gel may make my accomplishment increasingly rare in society. Maybe it will stand as an eternal record.
Perhaps, I overstate the importance of my feat. It is not a miracle. An image of the Virgin Mary did not appear in my soap bar. My soap did not wash away poverty or feed anyone. I still tend to sink when I swim too many laps at the local pool. The accomplishment is much more modest; it is just remarkable to me within the narrow confines of my daily experience.
Everyone who uses bars of soap understands that the bar slowly decreases in size as it is used. Eventually, the remaining piece of soap becomes too small to use practically and is discarded. The challenge for all of us soap bar users is when to discard the diminishing residual bar.
Soap does not cost much money, especially, if you buy the perfumed variety. So continuing to use the ever-vanishing bar is not just a money saving technique. It is more about being efficient and not wasteful. Perhaps, it is a moral statement committing to use environmental resources wisely. Or maybe it is the legacy of the Great Depression, or maybe something else. Regardless, the challenge of washing with a residual fragment of soap is, for me and fellow bar washers, a common occurrence.
Eventually, I discard the residual soap fragment and start over with a new, full sized bar. Sometimes, I drop the fragment on the floor of the shower and it disappears down the drain. Occasionally, I will toss the fragment in the toilet; that requires walking from the shower carrying wet soap and then rinsing my hands of the offending soap. It is usually easier just to leave the soap in the soap dish and let the fragments just accumulate; after a year or two all are discarded when I throw out the disgusting soap dish.
But today the “miracle” happened. I used a bar of soap until it was no more. 100% used; no soap fragment remained to be discarded. I looked in disbelief at my hands as I stood in the shower that morning. I looked at the shower floor; I looked at my body to see if a fragment had latched on to a leg or arm. The bar of soap had completely dissolved with no trace remaining as I finished my shower. I had achieved perfect efficiency with no waste. The starving children in India and China will be pleased.
04 September 2010
Emails Forever
I receive a couple hundred emails a day. I cannot ignore them; I cannot escape them; I cannot hide from them. Sure I can leave an automated response that I am in Siberia, but they will just keep coming and piling up like winter snow in my birth city of Chicago.
I appreciate the instant communication emails provide. Just this week I received an email from my sister-in-law in the US that my brother was hospitalized and I was able to call him when I awoke in the morning. Emails make me much more productive at work and allow me to keep in touch with the relatives back home. But emails do have drawbacks and consume incredible amounts of time; I have this periodic desire to escape the electronic reach of my blackberries..
I have a trip planned to Darwin soon and thought I would take a day and go bushwalking in a remote area of the Northern Territory. Surely, there is no email reception there (actually I have been to Siberia and there is email there). Alternatively, a colleague told me I should take a 4-wheel drive trip through the Kimberley where there is no email or mobile phone reception.
But that would mean I would have a couple thousand emails waiting for me when I emerged from the wilderness. Emails do not expire like the biodegradable bags that are popular today but are useless in holding heavier groceries – they seem to degrade before I arrive home.
I have 7 email accounts, which eagerly fill up every day with various missives. Why so many? Well, I have an email address at work (that is one). Then I have my email address for my consulting firm which is inactive but registered with various government agencies and investment companies (that is #2). I have a personal email account from the US (#3), and when I moved to Australia Telstra gave me an email account when I signed up for Internet service (#4). Only I did not like the Telstra email name and they would not let me change it (I know because I talked to about 15 guys in India and finally gave up), so I added another Telstra email name that I can actually remember (#5). And then there is my old AOL email address (#6) I had for years before my ex wife took the email account with her as part of the divorce. Then she found out she could not change the email address of record with AOL (they must have a relationship with Telstra), so she has to keep my old account active as long as she wants to use her account. I still receive occasional emails from old acquaintances that do not have any of my other 6 account addresses. Finally, my blackberry comes with its own email address (#7). Now if I could only remember the passwords.
To keep track of my emails, I need 2 blackberries. One is for work and the other consolidates the other 6 personal accounts. Now if I could only remember the blackberry passwords too.
I always respond to personal emails; it is important to me to acknowledge when someone takes the time to send me a note. I do not respond to junk mail or the letters from Nigeria informing me they are holding $100 million for me but they are having trouble sending it to me. But I do respond to other copious emails each day.
The other day I sent an email to a woman with a request to meet for coffee. She, like me, responds to emails even if she is not interested. So she sends me a nice email declining the invitation due to a conflict. Since I respond to all personal emails, I sent her an email thanking her for responding. Since she feels compelled to respond to emails too, she sent me a note thanking me for responding to her response. I am getting ready to respond to her response to my response.
This could be a good story. Two people who have nothing in common other than they both feel it is proper and courteous to respond to letters and emails are caught in eternal email ping-pong. At first, they were irritated to respond so often to spurious emails, but eventually they came to look forward to the routine and familiar comfort from regular contact. After 25 years, the emails ceased. The system of email had been replaced by thought mail – you think something and the thought is transmitted. Unfortunately, he could not adjust and his attempts and sending thoughts often went awry. So he finally gave up, and the emails ceased. But they were fun and comforting for years.
Back to reality. I am uncertain what to do with the deluge of emails. I am reminded of a former US Senator who replied to various constituent letters by saying, “Dear sir, I thought you should know that an idiot has been sending me correspondence and using your good name.” Unfortunately, I would still need to read all the emails before I could identify the undesired senders. so this does not work either.
For junk mail and marketing solicitations, I used to “unsubscribe” to the sender’s list. I have since learned that this action only serves to confirm you have a legitimate email address that now can be sold to other mass mailing services, resulting in a quantum increase in emails received.
Until I figure out a better solution, I will just keep responding to personal emails and ignoring emails from marketing services, get rich schemes, banks where I do not have accounts, and assorted other nuisances. But it is nice to know my brother is fine and the guy in Africa is still holding my $100 million.
I appreciate the instant communication emails provide. Just this week I received an email from my sister-in-law in the US that my brother was hospitalized and I was able to call him when I awoke in the morning. Emails make me much more productive at work and allow me to keep in touch with the relatives back home. But emails do have drawbacks and consume incredible amounts of time; I have this periodic desire to escape the electronic reach of my blackberries..
I have a trip planned to Darwin soon and thought I would take a day and go bushwalking in a remote area of the Northern Territory. Surely, there is no email reception there (actually I have been to Siberia and there is email there). Alternatively, a colleague told me I should take a 4-wheel drive trip through the Kimberley where there is no email or mobile phone reception.
But that would mean I would have a couple thousand emails waiting for me when I emerged from the wilderness. Emails do not expire like the biodegradable bags that are popular today but are useless in holding heavier groceries – they seem to degrade before I arrive home.
I have 7 email accounts, which eagerly fill up every day with various missives. Why so many? Well, I have an email address at work (that is one). Then I have my email address for my consulting firm which is inactive but registered with various government agencies and investment companies (that is #2). I have a personal email account from the US (#3), and when I moved to Australia Telstra gave me an email account when I signed up for Internet service (#4). Only I did not like the Telstra email name and they would not let me change it (I know because I talked to about 15 guys in India and finally gave up), so I added another Telstra email name that I can actually remember (#5). And then there is my old AOL email address (#6) I had for years before my ex wife took the email account with her as part of the divorce. Then she found out she could not change the email address of record with AOL (they must have a relationship with Telstra), so she has to keep my old account active as long as she wants to use her account. I still receive occasional emails from old acquaintances that do not have any of my other 6 account addresses. Finally, my blackberry comes with its own email address (#7). Now if I could only remember the passwords.
To keep track of my emails, I need 2 blackberries. One is for work and the other consolidates the other 6 personal accounts. Now if I could only remember the blackberry passwords too.
I always respond to personal emails; it is important to me to acknowledge when someone takes the time to send me a note. I do not respond to junk mail or the letters from Nigeria informing me they are holding $100 million for me but they are having trouble sending it to me. But I do respond to other copious emails each day.
The other day I sent an email to a woman with a request to meet for coffee. She, like me, responds to emails even if she is not interested. So she sends me a nice email declining the invitation due to a conflict. Since I respond to all personal emails, I sent her an email thanking her for responding. Since she feels compelled to respond to emails too, she sent me a note thanking me for responding to her response. I am getting ready to respond to her response to my response.
This could be a good story. Two people who have nothing in common other than they both feel it is proper and courteous to respond to letters and emails are caught in eternal email ping-pong. At first, they were irritated to respond so often to spurious emails, but eventually they came to look forward to the routine and familiar comfort from regular contact. After 25 years, the emails ceased. The system of email had been replaced by thought mail – you think something and the thought is transmitted. Unfortunately, he could not adjust and his attempts and sending thoughts often went awry. So he finally gave up, and the emails ceased. But they were fun and comforting for years.
Back to reality. I am uncertain what to do with the deluge of emails. I am reminded of a former US Senator who replied to various constituent letters by saying, “Dear sir, I thought you should know that an idiot has been sending me correspondence and using your good name.” Unfortunately, I would still need to read all the emails before I could identify the undesired senders. so this does not work either.
For junk mail and marketing solicitations, I used to “unsubscribe” to the sender’s list. I have since learned that this action only serves to confirm you have a legitimate email address that now can be sold to other mass mailing services, resulting in a quantum increase in emails received.
Until I figure out a better solution, I will just keep responding to personal emails and ignoring emails from marketing services, get rich schemes, banks where I do not have accounts, and assorted other nuisances. But it is nice to know my brother is fine and the guy in Africa is still holding my $100 million.
14 August 2010
Staying Awake
There are times when just staying awake is a challenge despite time of day and circumstances. Take Tuesday for example.
In a late effort to get in shape, I arose at 5 AM and had a good hour on the elliptical machine. It was exhausting, but the endorphins kicked in and it was a great start on my new fitness campaign. Caffeine at 8:00 and more caffeine at 10 and 12. Lots of meetings followed including a business luncheon with a glass of wine. Generally, I felt good all day but was beginning to fade a bit late afternoon.
5:30 PM arrived too soon and it was time to meet a friend for a light dinner of tapas at an outdoor sidewalk café. We split a bottle of Australian pinot; I really did not need wine but it was a nice complement to dinner. Conversation was good as always; food provided renewed energy; wine afforded relaxation after a busy day. I felt tired but was coping and acquired my second (or third or fourth) wind.
The piano concert that followed started at 7 PM. This would surely test my ability to remain awake. The famous pianist, Nikolai Demidenko, was the performer. The stage was bare except for a magnificent Steinway grand piano. The setting was a wonderful Sydney concert hall – Angel Place – which provides much better acoustics that the Sydney Opera House. Nikolai’s fingers flew over the keyboard; at times they paused in mid-air hovering, only to descend with a dramatic but fluid motion into the keys below. My friend called it a ballet of the hands. He was really good.
The music flowed from the Steinway in melodic streams. Thematic movements came and went and came again. Chopin would be pleased with how his music was treated.
After watching and listening for a while, the dimmed audience lighting coupled with the tender music made me feel increasingly tired; the mind said stay alert but the body said go to sleep. The effects of food and earlier coffees had passed. Then it became a sedentary appreciation of surrounding music and low light. I fought to stay awake. It would be very embarrassing to fall asleep.
I looked around the beautiful concert hall; I counted lights; I noticed lots of objects appeared in 4’s: l looked at the back heads of the audience and tried to guess what the faces look like. Finally, an intermission. I stood and stretched and talked and stifled my yawns.
Then the lights dimmed again, and the music returned. Now Demidenko attacked Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition. This piece was faster, louder, and bolder. But it was also a very long piece. Every time I thought it was coming to conclusion, another stanza began. This was War and Peace on a piano. I felt myself about to succumb despite my efforts to stay alert. I played games focusing my eyes on near and far objects. The sandman hovered.
Finally, Nikolai concluded a masterful performance. I jumped to my feet and applauded waking in the moment. Others applauded; he exited and I was ready to go home and go to bed. But alas he returned and began an encore. It should have been over but it continued. The audience was happy; I wanted to go to bed.
Finally it appeared to be over. More applause but no standing. This time it was more polite and less enthusiastic; others must be tired too. Two hours of music is a long time, especially on a Tuesday night. He exited; he returned; he sat down and began another encore. I felt I was about to die.
The lights finally brightened; no more encores. Time for home; time for bed. Good-bye to my companion; instead of the train or walking, I took a taxi – too tired to move. Sleep at last but tomorrow is only Wednesday.
02 December 2009
The Great Kayak Adventure
History is filled with explorers taking big and not so big ships on great voyages of discovery. In the 1500’s, a Portuguese expedition apparently sailed to Australia. In the 1600’s several European ships came upon Australia, and in the late 1700’s, British expeditions stopped and claimed Australia for themselves. This was about the time the Americans were throwing the Brits out of the American colonies, so maybe the English needed a new place to go. The biggest adventurers were probably the early Aboriginals, who showed up about 13,000 BC but neglected to tell anyone.
Last week I had lunch with the Governor General of Australia. She seemed like a very nice lady, but I asked the guy sitting next to me why Australia had a Governor General. The only generals in the U.S., where I come from, wear military fatigues, have crew cuts, and look even tougher than the kids who used to hang out in the alleys of Berwyn, Illinois, when I was a kid. Quentin Bryce looks or acts nothing like any generals I have met. The guy next to me said the Governor General was appointed by the Queen (i.e. The Queen of England – Aussies don’t have their own queen, maybe it’s a money saving idea if you want a Queen just borrow one).
I am digressing a bit from my later day exploration of the seas, which occurred this morning. A friend (to save her embarrassment let’s call her "J") and I decided to explore the wilds of Sydney Harbour. A power boat (sometimes referred to as ‘stinkpots’) or big sail boat (always referred to as ‘financial holes’) would have been too easy. We decided to explore by kayak, perhaps replicating the early travels of natives thousands of years ago.
I have never been in a kayak; J was in one once. There are some differences I was surprised to find between modern kayaks and American canoes, with which I am more familiar. The kayak has cool compartments for towels and stuff. Everything still gets wet, but the idea of compartments and tight fighting tops with straps and bands that make it hard for everything but water to enter (including humans) is neat.
Kayaks have a rudder and pedals. This is especially gratifying when you are in a two person kayak and the other person is sitting in the front thinking she is determining the course. It is like being a back seat driver in a car but steering the car from pedals in the back. It gives one a great sense of power, which can be exercised so subtly that the person in front does not know you are steering, unless of course you hit the rocks, which we almost did once.
The kayak rental office has a very large sign and map on the wall prohibiting renters from going too far out into the Harbour. A big black line on the map extends from a lighthouse across the mouth of the Middle Harbour. It reminded me of military maps showing where the minefields were or early navigation maps depicting where the ship-eating dragons lay in wait. I do not know how we signed all the forms and never noticed the big map with the big black line.
Armed with weird shaped paddles, life jackets, water bottles, and sunscreen, we soon embarked on our journey of exploration after being warned the ship was due back in 2 hours unless we wanted to pay more. I cannot imagine the King of England telling Captain Phillip he needed to return by whenever in 1788 or he would be charged more rent for the boat. Oh for the good old days.
After avoiding being run over by speedy stinkpots and bisected by financial holes, we managed to cross the bay and follow the shoreline of beautiful beaches and friendly natives playing in the waves. Soon we were well past the lighthouse, which seemed vaguely familiar but J did not remember it either when asked.
After missing the rocks by the lighthouse (the ship’s log – if the ship had a log - would have noted we were well clear despite J’s protests otherwise), we followed the coast in search of some beach inhabited by ghosts, according to J. I am unsure why we were looking for ghosts but if I had hit the rocks maybe we would have found a few. There is also an area called Quarantine Beach J wanted to find; I was afraid to ask how the place got its name. Why would you ever want to go to a place called Quarantine?
We took in quite a bit of water from errant waves and the wake of boats (and totally unrelated to the ever capable steering) and decided we needed to beach the ship and bail it out before turning back; otherwise we would be swimming back. A pretty little beach lay directly ahead, but we had a bit of a rough arrival crashing on the beach carried by a larger wave. I managed to gash my arm when the rudder flipped upside down and then managed to cut my leg as the next wave crashed the boat into me as I was scrambling out.
Looking around, it was clear we landed at a nudist beach. The women mostly covered up when we crashed the party; the men, especially the overweight ones, stayed natural. Only in my nightmare would I land safely on a beach island occupied by clothed women and naked men.
So we stood there on Naked Men Island, trying to control a water filled boat too heavy to move and with me bleeding profusely. J rushed to find a bucket and bailed while I held the boat and tried to direct the flow of blood into the water and away from the boat seats. I realized shortly thereafter, I was scenting the water for sharks – just what we needed to add to the adventure.
Soon we were off again, having escaped the possible cannibals, and paddling back to port. Unfortunately, the wind had risen considerably and we were paddling directly into the headwinds. J tired after all the paddling, bailing, and pulling and pushing the boat on the beach and became the official lookout. I paddled furiously now convinced we needed to get back as fast as possible before every shark in Australia learned of a possible meatball sandwich in the yellow kayak in Middle Harbour.
We managed to paddle through two sailing regattas on the return trip and avoided the array of big and bigger boats. We missed the rocks again (yes our esteemed lookout reminded me often when things looked closer that they seemed to be from the rear seat), and we pushed through the determined wind. The sharks stayed away, and I finally stopped bleeding.
So in the chronicles of Australian explorations, let the footnote show Scott and J surveyed the coastline of a part of Sydney Harbour on 29 November 2009 and found it to be ever present.
Last week I had lunch with the Governor General of Australia. She seemed like a very nice lady, but I asked the guy sitting next to me why Australia had a Governor General. The only generals in the U.S., where I come from, wear military fatigues, have crew cuts, and look even tougher than the kids who used to hang out in the alleys of Berwyn, Illinois, when I was a kid. Quentin Bryce looks or acts nothing like any generals I have met. The guy next to me said the Governor General was appointed by the Queen (i.e. The Queen of England – Aussies don’t have their own queen, maybe it’s a money saving idea if you want a Queen just borrow one).
I am digressing a bit from my later day exploration of the seas, which occurred this morning. A friend (to save her embarrassment let’s call her "J") and I decided to explore the wilds of Sydney Harbour. A power boat (sometimes referred to as ‘stinkpots’) or big sail boat (always referred to as ‘financial holes’) would have been too easy. We decided to explore by kayak, perhaps replicating the early travels of natives thousands of years ago.
I have never been in a kayak; J was in one once. There are some differences I was surprised to find between modern kayaks and American canoes, with which I am more familiar. The kayak has cool compartments for towels and stuff. Everything still gets wet, but the idea of compartments and tight fighting tops with straps and bands that make it hard for everything but water to enter (including humans) is neat.
Kayaks have a rudder and pedals. This is especially gratifying when you are in a two person kayak and the other person is sitting in the front thinking she is determining the course. It is like being a back seat driver in a car but steering the car from pedals in the back. It gives one a great sense of power, which can be exercised so subtly that the person in front does not know you are steering, unless of course you hit the rocks, which we almost did once.
The kayak rental office has a very large sign and map on the wall prohibiting renters from going too far out into the Harbour. A big black line on the map extends from a lighthouse across the mouth of the Middle Harbour. It reminded me of military maps showing where the minefields were or early navigation maps depicting where the ship-eating dragons lay in wait. I do not know how we signed all the forms and never noticed the big map with the big black line.
Armed with weird shaped paddles, life jackets, water bottles, and sunscreen, we soon embarked on our journey of exploration after being warned the ship was due back in 2 hours unless we wanted to pay more. I cannot imagine the King of England telling Captain Phillip he needed to return by whenever in 1788 or he would be charged more rent for the boat. Oh for the good old days.
After avoiding being run over by speedy stinkpots and bisected by financial holes, we managed to cross the bay and follow the shoreline of beautiful beaches and friendly natives playing in the waves. Soon we were well past the lighthouse, which seemed vaguely familiar but J did not remember it either when asked.
After missing the rocks by the lighthouse (the ship’s log – if the ship had a log - would have noted we were well clear despite J’s protests otherwise), we followed the coast in search of some beach inhabited by ghosts, according to J. I am unsure why we were looking for ghosts but if I had hit the rocks maybe we would have found a few. There is also an area called Quarantine Beach J wanted to find; I was afraid to ask how the place got its name. Why would you ever want to go to a place called Quarantine?
We took in quite a bit of water from errant waves and the wake of boats (and totally unrelated to the ever capable steering) and decided we needed to beach the ship and bail it out before turning back; otherwise we would be swimming back. A pretty little beach lay directly ahead, but we had a bit of a rough arrival crashing on the beach carried by a larger wave. I managed to gash my arm when the rudder flipped upside down and then managed to cut my leg as the next wave crashed the boat into me as I was scrambling out.
Looking around, it was clear we landed at a nudist beach. The women mostly covered up when we crashed the party; the men, especially the overweight ones, stayed natural. Only in my nightmare would I land safely on a beach island occupied by clothed women and naked men.
So we stood there on Naked Men Island, trying to control a water filled boat too heavy to move and with me bleeding profusely. J rushed to find a bucket and bailed while I held the boat and tried to direct the flow of blood into the water and away from the boat seats. I realized shortly thereafter, I was scenting the water for sharks – just what we needed to add to the adventure.
Soon we were off again, having escaped the possible cannibals, and paddling back to port. Unfortunately, the wind had risen considerably and we were paddling directly into the headwinds. J tired after all the paddling, bailing, and pulling and pushing the boat on the beach and became the official lookout. I paddled furiously now convinced we needed to get back as fast as possible before every shark in Australia learned of a possible meatball sandwich in the yellow kayak in Middle Harbour.
We managed to paddle through two sailing regattas on the return trip and avoided the array of big and bigger boats. We missed the rocks again (yes our esteemed lookout reminded me often when things looked closer that they seemed to be from the rear seat), and we pushed through the determined wind. The sharks stayed away, and I finally stopped bleeding.
So in the chronicles of Australian explorations, let the footnote show Scott and J surveyed the coastline of a part of Sydney Harbour on 29 November 2009 and found it to be ever present.
16 November 2009
Mirror Mirror on the Wall
This morning I flunked the mirror test. This is really of great concern. I can’t think of anything worse than flunking the mirror test. The consequences are very bad. I looked again; maybe my aging eyesight is mistaken. No, it appears I really did fail to pass this essential test.
I have been fighting the tendency to gain weight my entire life. When I was young, there was a popular albeit sophomoric joke, “Do you want to lose 10 ugly pounds? Cut off your head.” While not as drastic a measure, when my weight creeps up, I eat less and try to exercise more. It is not a fun regime.
If you consult a doctor about ideal weight, he or she is likely to show average and ideal weight charts based on the latest research. The doc may calculate your BMI (Body Mass Index) or even more esoteric calculations like your waist to hip ratio.
I have less sophisticated ways to calibrate ideal and not so ideal weight measures including:
• The Scale Test. As referenced above, when my weight passes a certain line (170 pounds / 77 kilos), I know it is time.
• The Mirror Test. Whenever I can no longer bear to look at myself naked in the mirror, it is time to go on a diet.
• The Shrinking Pants Test. When my pants become too tight; it is not due to fabric contraction or improper cleaning, it is a clear message from the fat fairy.
So this morning I passed the scale test and my stretched jeans have not shrunk too badly but the mirror does not lie. I am not looking good even holding my stomach in and not breathing.
The challenge of weight management becomes more difficult with age. Over time, we shrink; I understand gravity does it. If you want to maintain that height of yesteryear, sign up for the next lunar mission. On earth, we are doomed.
Therefore it is possible to pass the scale test but flunk the mirror test as the body compresses and showcases the extra kilos. This is just not fair; but what else in the aging process is fair?
Why is losing weight so difficult and to be dreaded so? Probably because it is so easy to gain weight. Let me count the ways the solar system is aligned to make us fat and inhibit efforts to slim down.
• A Fat Baby is a Healthy Baby. Typical of the common beliefs when I was an infant, my mother felt a fat baby was a healthy baby. I think child diseases were a major concern then, and parents felt thin babies’ survival was more at risk than fat babies. So my generation received plenty of food as long as income was there to buy it. My generation has been overfed from our earliest years.
• We are surrounded by high-fat high-calorie tempting food. I often stop for a morning coffee on the way to work. Coffee shops have been able transform a no-calorie, no-fat product (coffee) into a high-fat, high-calorie offering by adding milk, creams and sugars. Then they complement the transformed coffee with high-fat, high-calorie muffins, brownies, biscuits, and cakes. Good luck trying to find something healthy at your local coffee bar.
• High-fat, high-calorie food tastes really good. We have grown up with hamburgers and chips, pizza, fried chicken, and other assorted good tasting bad-for-you stuff. What tastes better, a cupcake or an orange? If you’re not sure, let me tell you– it’s a cupcake with frosting.
• We are addicted to high-fat high-calorie food. Overeating is an addiction. If someone is addicted to smoking or hard drugs, they can quit albeit with difficulty. But you cannot quit eating food. Instead, we have to reduce the intake of what we are addicted to but we must keep consuming stuff or we will die. This is a very difficult position to be in.
• We are comforted by eating. When I am stressed, I often turn to food for comfort and security. I also need activity; I am never comfortable sitting quietly for long periods of time. Some drug company came up with a new disease, “restless leg syndrome.” I have restless body syndrome, but the answer for me is not drugs it is finding a better outlet than eating.
• Social and business settings require drinks and typically big lunches and dinners. This is true. Sometimes I can offset the big meals with a rigorous workout at the gym; other times I should offset big meals by eating less at other times, but this is very difficult. As I consume more, my body calls for even more input. And the weight creeps up, the demand for food increases.
• Friends think they are being nice by telling us how good we look instead of comparing us to a pachyderm in the zoo. Enough said.
Some of the common ways people try to lose weight are more form than substance. A few of my pet peeves follow. I am not a doctor and claim no medical knowledge or expertise but I will share some non-scientific and not necessarily accurate observations.
Common Myths of Overweight People and Diets
• People are fat because their metabolism is low. Wrong. I know lots of overweight people and they all eat more than I do. People are fat because they eat more than they need to sustain their activity level.
• People are fat because they have a “fat gene.” This is a new one. I have no doubt that people have different genetic issues and some may be more attracted to the satisfaction food can provide, but give me a break. This just means you have to be more careful in what you eat.
• You should not diet because you will just re-gain the lost weight. It is true that most who lose weight on a diet will regain the lost weight. However, if the same people never went on a diet and continued to gain at whatever rate they put on the extra pounds in the first place, how much heavier would they be without the time spent eating less? Every day spent eating less is a day not spent eating more.
• Walking burns calories and causes weight loss. Theoretically, if you walked all day, you would burn appreciable calories but you don’t burn many walking around the block. I figure I burn about 100 calories a mile (1.7 km). If I walk for 30 minutes at a brisk pace (say 15 minutes per mile), that is a lousy 200 calories. Eat a brownie and you need to walk for an hour to make up. Yes walking is good for your heart and circulation, just don’t walk to the neighbors’ house and figure you can afford a couple extra beers.
• Going to the gym reduces weight. I try to go to the gym 3 to 4 times a week. I have noticed that there are two types of people who go to the gym. Those who are focused and have a hard workout and those who hang around, socialize, and occasionally lie on the mats and meditate about working out. The latter group evidently assumes that by going to the gym, their mere presence causes the pounds to float away. Dream again.
• It is not how much you eat but what you eat. This is the basis of countless diet books, which all seem to sell well and make the authors bazillions of dollars. The basic fact is you consume a level of energy units (calories) and you burn a level of calories. When you consume too many, you gain weight; when you consume too few you lose weight. Most of the diet formulas are really schemes to reduce your caloric intake. Try eating less and you will achieve the same results.
• If you don’t clean your plate, children in India and China will starve. This theory was popular with The Greatest Generation (i.e. my mother) but the concept is not so great. I never understood the precise connection.
When I was doing work in India a few years ago, I had dinner with a family near Delhi. As the mother encouraged her son to eat more, I asked if her mother used the starving children in China and India story when she was a child. She replied, “Yes but not the China part.” That makes sense.
I have a friend who lives in Houston, Texas, who manages to stay if fairly good shape and never seems concerned about dieting and weight management. But I think Gary’s ideas may not be very scientific. Here are a few of his wisdoms passed on to me that seem to work for him.
• If you break something in two (like a biscuit), many of the calories escape into the air. If you break tasty morsels into multiple pieces, eating only a small piece at a time, most of the calories are simply lost.
• If you eat a piece of fruit or vegetable, that neutralizes bad stuff you also eat. Eat a banana and the secret stuff in the fruit attacks and removes the calories in a donut for example.
• Drinking water causes weight loss. Washing down biscuits and cakes with lots of water makes the calories flow through the body without stopping or adding fat.
• Eating while standing or walking makes the calories harder to collect in the body compared to eating while sitting. No wonder people who ‘eat on the run’ tend to be thinner.
• Hanging around thin people makes you thinner while hanging with fat people makes you fatter. This evidently has something to do with electrons and complicated physics. I guess the fat molecules hop across to others nearby. Have you noticed how couples are often both thin or fat? Proves the point.
I am not looking forward to next week after failing the mirror test today. I will recheck the mirror test tomorrow hoping for a miracle or temporary loss of eyesight, but it appears I am about to embark on a difficult journey that involves combating gravity, the alignment of the solar system, habits bred since birth, evil temptations on every street corner, addiction, and fewer and fewer role models. It sounds like a horror film; only it’s not a film. At least I have some handy techniques from Gary to help me through the process.
I have been fighting the tendency to gain weight my entire life. When I was young, there was a popular albeit sophomoric joke, “Do you want to lose 10 ugly pounds? Cut off your head.” While not as drastic a measure, when my weight creeps up, I eat less and try to exercise more. It is not a fun regime.
If you consult a doctor about ideal weight, he or she is likely to show average and ideal weight charts based on the latest research. The doc may calculate your BMI (Body Mass Index) or even more esoteric calculations like your waist to hip ratio.
I have less sophisticated ways to calibrate ideal and not so ideal weight measures including:
• The Scale Test. As referenced above, when my weight passes a certain line (170 pounds / 77 kilos), I know it is time.
• The Mirror Test. Whenever I can no longer bear to look at myself naked in the mirror, it is time to go on a diet.
• The Shrinking Pants Test. When my pants become too tight; it is not due to fabric contraction or improper cleaning, it is a clear message from the fat fairy.
So this morning I passed the scale test and my stretched jeans have not shrunk too badly but the mirror does not lie. I am not looking good even holding my stomach in and not breathing.
The challenge of weight management becomes more difficult with age. Over time, we shrink; I understand gravity does it. If you want to maintain that height of yesteryear, sign up for the next lunar mission. On earth, we are doomed.
Therefore it is possible to pass the scale test but flunk the mirror test as the body compresses and showcases the extra kilos. This is just not fair; but what else in the aging process is fair?
Why is losing weight so difficult and to be dreaded so? Probably because it is so easy to gain weight. Let me count the ways the solar system is aligned to make us fat and inhibit efforts to slim down.
• A Fat Baby is a Healthy Baby. Typical of the common beliefs when I was an infant, my mother felt a fat baby was a healthy baby. I think child diseases were a major concern then, and parents felt thin babies’ survival was more at risk than fat babies. So my generation received plenty of food as long as income was there to buy it. My generation has been overfed from our earliest years.
• We are surrounded by high-fat high-calorie tempting food. I often stop for a morning coffee on the way to work. Coffee shops have been able transform a no-calorie, no-fat product (coffee) into a high-fat, high-calorie offering by adding milk, creams and sugars. Then they complement the transformed coffee with high-fat, high-calorie muffins, brownies, biscuits, and cakes. Good luck trying to find something healthy at your local coffee bar.
• High-fat, high-calorie food tastes really good. We have grown up with hamburgers and chips, pizza, fried chicken, and other assorted good tasting bad-for-you stuff. What tastes better, a cupcake or an orange? If you’re not sure, let me tell you– it’s a cupcake with frosting.
• We are addicted to high-fat high-calorie food. Overeating is an addiction. If someone is addicted to smoking or hard drugs, they can quit albeit with difficulty. But you cannot quit eating food. Instead, we have to reduce the intake of what we are addicted to but we must keep consuming stuff or we will die. This is a very difficult position to be in.
• We are comforted by eating. When I am stressed, I often turn to food for comfort and security. I also need activity; I am never comfortable sitting quietly for long periods of time. Some drug company came up with a new disease, “restless leg syndrome.” I have restless body syndrome, but the answer for me is not drugs it is finding a better outlet than eating.
• Social and business settings require drinks and typically big lunches and dinners. This is true. Sometimes I can offset the big meals with a rigorous workout at the gym; other times I should offset big meals by eating less at other times, but this is very difficult. As I consume more, my body calls for even more input. And the weight creeps up, the demand for food increases.
• Friends think they are being nice by telling us how good we look instead of comparing us to a pachyderm in the zoo. Enough said.
Some of the common ways people try to lose weight are more form than substance. A few of my pet peeves follow. I am not a doctor and claim no medical knowledge or expertise but I will share some non-scientific and not necessarily accurate observations.
Common Myths of Overweight People and Diets
• People are fat because their metabolism is low. Wrong. I know lots of overweight people and they all eat more than I do. People are fat because they eat more than they need to sustain their activity level.
• People are fat because they have a “fat gene.” This is a new one. I have no doubt that people have different genetic issues and some may be more attracted to the satisfaction food can provide, but give me a break. This just means you have to be more careful in what you eat.
• You should not diet because you will just re-gain the lost weight. It is true that most who lose weight on a diet will regain the lost weight. However, if the same people never went on a diet and continued to gain at whatever rate they put on the extra pounds in the first place, how much heavier would they be without the time spent eating less? Every day spent eating less is a day not spent eating more.
• Walking burns calories and causes weight loss. Theoretically, if you walked all day, you would burn appreciable calories but you don’t burn many walking around the block. I figure I burn about 100 calories a mile (1.7 km). If I walk for 30 minutes at a brisk pace (say 15 minutes per mile), that is a lousy 200 calories. Eat a brownie and you need to walk for an hour to make up. Yes walking is good for your heart and circulation, just don’t walk to the neighbors’ house and figure you can afford a couple extra beers.
• Going to the gym reduces weight. I try to go to the gym 3 to 4 times a week. I have noticed that there are two types of people who go to the gym. Those who are focused and have a hard workout and those who hang around, socialize, and occasionally lie on the mats and meditate about working out. The latter group evidently assumes that by going to the gym, their mere presence causes the pounds to float away. Dream again.
• It is not how much you eat but what you eat. This is the basis of countless diet books, which all seem to sell well and make the authors bazillions of dollars. The basic fact is you consume a level of energy units (calories) and you burn a level of calories. When you consume too many, you gain weight; when you consume too few you lose weight. Most of the diet formulas are really schemes to reduce your caloric intake. Try eating less and you will achieve the same results.
• If you don’t clean your plate, children in India and China will starve. This theory was popular with The Greatest Generation (i.e. my mother) but the concept is not so great. I never understood the precise connection.
When I was doing work in India a few years ago, I had dinner with a family near Delhi. As the mother encouraged her son to eat more, I asked if her mother used the starving children in China and India story when she was a child. She replied, “Yes but not the China part.” That makes sense.
I have a friend who lives in Houston, Texas, who manages to stay if fairly good shape and never seems concerned about dieting and weight management. But I think Gary’s ideas may not be very scientific. Here are a few of his wisdoms passed on to me that seem to work for him.
• If you break something in two (like a biscuit), many of the calories escape into the air. If you break tasty morsels into multiple pieces, eating only a small piece at a time, most of the calories are simply lost.
• If you eat a piece of fruit or vegetable, that neutralizes bad stuff you also eat. Eat a banana and the secret stuff in the fruit attacks and removes the calories in a donut for example.
• Drinking water causes weight loss. Washing down biscuits and cakes with lots of water makes the calories flow through the body without stopping or adding fat.
• Eating while standing or walking makes the calories harder to collect in the body compared to eating while sitting. No wonder people who ‘eat on the run’ tend to be thinner.
• Hanging around thin people makes you thinner while hanging with fat people makes you fatter. This evidently has something to do with electrons and complicated physics. I guess the fat molecules hop across to others nearby. Have you noticed how couples are often both thin or fat? Proves the point.
I am not looking forward to next week after failing the mirror test today. I will recheck the mirror test tomorrow hoping for a miracle or temporary loss of eyesight, but it appears I am about to embark on a difficult journey that involves combating gravity, the alignment of the solar system, habits bred since birth, evil temptations on every street corner, addiction, and fewer and fewer role models. It sounds like a horror film; only it’s not a film. At least I have some handy techniques from Gary to help me through the process.
22 September 2009
Something for Nothing
Ben Franklin, the American Statesman and colonial leader, was once quoted as saying, “A penny saved is a penny earned.” What he probably did not realize was he was establishing the basis for one of the world’s most powerful and impactful economic behaviors which has become a cornerstone for the capitalism and consumerism that has dominated world economies in the 20th and 21st centuries.
How do I know this? It is obvious.
Last week, I experienced the shear joy of exchanging my coffee shop punch card with the requisite 10 distinctive punches for a free cup of coffee. Getting something of value for free is the ultimate consumer victory. I was thrilled.
Upon later reflection and when the after glow of success had diminished, I realized the coffee shop punch card effectively let me save 30 cents a cup for 10 cups. With an outsized salary and considerable savings, 30 cents is just not material to my lifestyle. But it was not the amount saved that was important, it was the idea of getting something for nothing.
One example does not prove theory, however; so let me share the other examples.
Store coupons are a multi billion dollar business. The satisfaction of submitting coupons at the supermarket – 50 cents off on Campbell’s soup with a coupon – means it must be time to buy even if we already have soup. And store sales escalate with double or triple coupon promotions. How many people really need the 50 cents? Not as many as those who use the coupons.
Store loyalty cards are now popular. Every time I buy $400 (cumulative) of prescriptions at a certain pharmacy, they send me a $10 off coupon on my next purchase. This brings me back to collect my $10 worth of free merchandise. If they reduced their prices 2.5%, it would have the same economic affect but then I would not be getting something for free.
Airline miles are reaching absurd levels of non reward. Fly 50,000 miles on a major airline, and you are theoretically entitled to a free ticket. Only the airlines offer very few seats to mileage using customers and the seats are almost always to destinations that no one wants to go. But it is fun to watch the free miles accumulate and think you can use them someday.
When I was divorced, my wife demanded a share of the miles I accumulated during our marriage. I transferred Continental miles to her account as requested and at a cost of $750 per 50,000 miles imposed by Continental for the transfer. She immediately went out and used the miles to purchase a $500 ticket to fly to Houston and felt she was so lucky to find a mileage seat. Nice marketing Continental.
When I signed up for a credit card at my local bank, I was offered the choice of a free card or a fee based card that accumulated miles on Qantas. The mileage card made no sense economically but when I asked the banker, he told me everyone gets the mileage card. After paying the annual fee, the customers view they are getting miles for free.
Last year my company sent out traditional Holiday Cards at Christmas time but included a voucher for 2 free movie tickets. “Why would anyone care about 2 free tickets to the movie? I asked.” What little I knew. The tickets were very popular because the employees felt they received something for nothing.
Every month there is at least one outdoor market in my neighborhood. The card tables are filled with useless stuff but sales are brisk at perceived bargain prices. For example, you can buy candles that smell like vanilla beans for $10 compared to $15-$20 at department stores. It would not occur to me to go to a department store in search of a vanilla bean smelling candle; but now I don’t have to. And I bought it at a discount!
Ben Franklin’s admonition has spread around the world. The quest to find a bargain is portrayed in the cult Australian film, “The Castle”, as a dialog refrain between father and son as they buy useless stuff at perceived low prices.
So what drives our behavior to save pennies when our pockets are full of dollars? Perhaps it is Ben Franklin’s early words of advice. Or maybe it was the Great Depression and stories and behaviors passed down from that generation. Or maybe it is part of our consumer culture and one of the behavioral rules to play the game. I am not smart enough to know, but I do know 10 more coffees and I will get a free one.
How do I know this? It is obvious.
Last week, I experienced the shear joy of exchanging my coffee shop punch card with the requisite 10 distinctive punches for a free cup of coffee. Getting something of value for free is the ultimate consumer victory. I was thrilled.
Upon later reflection and when the after glow of success had diminished, I realized the coffee shop punch card effectively let me save 30 cents a cup for 10 cups. With an outsized salary and considerable savings, 30 cents is just not material to my lifestyle. But it was not the amount saved that was important, it was the idea of getting something for nothing.
One example does not prove theory, however; so let me share the other examples.
Store coupons are a multi billion dollar business. The satisfaction of submitting coupons at the supermarket – 50 cents off on Campbell’s soup with a coupon – means it must be time to buy even if we already have soup. And store sales escalate with double or triple coupon promotions. How many people really need the 50 cents? Not as many as those who use the coupons.
Store loyalty cards are now popular. Every time I buy $400 (cumulative) of prescriptions at a certain pharmacy, they send me a $10 off coupon on my next purchase. This brings me back to collect my $10 worth of free merchandise. If they reduced their prices 2.5%, it would have the same economic affect but then I would not be getting something for free.
Airline miles are reaching absurd levels of non reward. Fly 50,000 miles on a major airline, and you are theoretically entitled to a free ticket. Only the airlines offer very few seats to mileage using customers and the seats are almost always to destinations that no one wants to go. But it is fun to watch the free miles accumulate and think you can use them someday.
When I was divorced, my wife demanded a share of the miles I accumulated during our marriage. I transferred Continental miles to her account as requested and at a cost of $750 per 50,000 miles imposed by Continental for the transfer. She immediately went out and used the miles to purchase a $500 ticket to fly to Houston and felt she was so lucky to find a mileage seat. Nice marketing Continental.
When I signed up for a credit card at my local bank, I was offered the choice of a free card or a fee based card that accumulated miles on Qantas. The mileage card made no sense economically but when I asked the banker, he told me everyone gets the mileage card. After paying the annual fee, the customers view they are getting miles for free.
Last year my company sent out traditional Holiday Cards at Christmas time but included a voucher for 2 free movie tickets. “Why would anyone care about 2 free tickets to the movie? I asked.” What little I knew. The tickets were very popular because the employees felt they received something for nothing.
Every month there is at least one outdoor market in my neighborhood. The card tables are filled with useless stuff but sales are brisk at perceived bargain prices. For example, you can buy candles that smell like vanilla beans for $10 compared to $15-$20 at department stores. It would not occur to me to go to a department store in search of a vanilla bean smelling candle; but now I don’t have to. And I bought it at a discount!
Ben Franklin’s admonition has spread around the world. The quest to find a bargain is portrayed in the cult Australian film, “The Castle”, as a dialog refrain between father and son as they buy useless stuff at perceived low prices.
So what drives our behavior to save pennies when our pockets are full of dollars? Perhaps it is Ben Franklin’s early words of advice. Or maybe it was the Great Depression and stories and behaviors passed down from that generation. Or maybe it is part of our consumer culture and one of the behavioral rules to play the game. I am not smart enough to know, but I do know 10 more coffees and I will get a free one.
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