September 20, 2006

In which I call out an inconsiderate person as such

It’s going to be a long night at the office, so I went to Randall’s for a Diet Pepsi and a TV dinner a few minutes ago. I approached one of the express lanes, which was clearly marked with a large sign: 15 items or fewer.

The woman in front of me had approximately 40 items splayed all over the conveyor belt, which bugged me. But I didn’t say anything. Then, as the woman was bagging her groceries, she asked the cashier why there wasn’t an employee there bagging her groceries.

The cashier responded that it’s an express lane, and the sackers work at the regular lanes.

The shopper, a bit flustered, then said, “I didn’t know that.”

Bullshit.

First of all, there’s a large sign proclaiming “Express Lane,” and specifying the details thereof. On this sign, the letters and background are in contrasting colors, and the text is printed in block letters in the English language. The sign is suspended directly above the entrance to the lane. Furthermore, it’s positioned in such a way that you can’t see the light indicating the lane is open without having the sign directly in your field of vision.

Secondly, this store is configured like virtually every other grocery store in the English-speaking world. The first two or three lanes are always express lanes.

The cashier started to say something, and the woman cut her off: “Why didn’t you tell me? You should have told me.”

Now, I have a working knowledge of human nature. I understand that all people — myself included — have an inclination to duck responsibility for their mistakes. No one likes to think they’ve failed, so people shift the blame. I understand that. But this woman didn’t blame circumstances, or society, or something else out of her control. She blamed an innocent person for her wrong action. And that pissed me off. I had to say something, so I did.

“No, she shouldn’t have told you,” I said. I turned and pointed to the sign above the register, a sign you can’t miss, even if you’re a stupid, inconsiderate boor.

“There’s a big sign right there. It says ‘15 items or fewer’ in 8-inch letters. You can’t miss it.”

The woman quickly, but not quickly enough, bagged her groceries and left in a huff. I paid for my purchase and the cashier gave me a smile. Made my day.


June 14, 2006

Scraps of thoughts

Like many people, I jot down lots of notes throughout the day. In my case, I use Post-Its, which are stuck in a row right in front of my computer keyboard.

I was cleaning them off, and I realized that they were just scraps of thoughts. Here today, gone tomorrow. In many cases, I don’t even remember what the note was supposed to mean. I wrote it down long enough to do something with it.

Here are some of the things I found important enough to write down:

  • Smokey Bones
  • 8/1980
  • BCC everyone
  • 4/3/06 79.12
  • in ETJ of Pflugerville
  • 6am-4pm
  • $20 pig
  • R Lexington

I know what some of these mean. Others I don’t.


May 19, 2006

Assigned seating on The Company Plane?

The Whited Curse strikes again — Southwest Airlines is considering scrapping its open-seating policy:

The airline is overhauling its computerized-reservation system to add the ability to assign seats and offer international flights. Officials say neither change is for sure.

The earliest Southwest could switch to assigned seating, used by every other major U.S. carrier, is 2008, Chief Executive Gary Kelly said Wednesday. The system won’t be able to handle the tax and customs information required for international travel until the following year, he said.

It would be a mistake to move away from open seating. As SciGuy has discussed, it’s faster and more efficient than assigned seating. One of Southwest’s major competitive advantages is its quick turnaround time. Planes don’t make money sitting on the ground, so Southwest keeps ‘em in the air. By shaving just a few minutes off each flight, you can accumulate enough saved time during the day to fly one more hop. The flipside is also true: waste an extra few minutes on the ground every flight, and you run out of daylight pretty soon.

To see, let’s crunch some numbers. Let’s say a Southwest plane’s workday is 12 hours; the first takeoff is at 8:00 a.m., and the plane has to be on the ground in its final destination city by 8:00 p.m. Let’s assume 1-hour flights with 20 minutes on the ground in between flights. For simplicity’s sake, all flights are within the same time zone.

The timetable looks like this:

  • Flight 1: 8:00-9:00
  • Flight 2: 9:20-10:20
  • Flight 3: 10:40-11:40
  • Flight 4: 12:00-1:00
  • Flight 5: 1:20-2:20
  • Flight 6: 2:40-3:40
  • Flight 7: 4:00-5:00
  • Flight 8: 5:20-6:20
  • Flight 9: 6:40-7:40

That’s 9 flights a day. To make it easy, we’ll assume 100 passengers per flight, each paying $100. That’s 10 grand in revenue per flight. Fly this route every day for a year, and you pull in $32.85 million.
Now let’s say you introduce assigned seating, and let’s say it adds just 5 more minutes on the ground, per flight. Now your timetable looks like this:

  • Flight 1: 8:00-9:00
  • Flight 2: 9:25-10:25
  • Flight 3: 10:50-11:50
  • Flight 4: 12:15-1:15
  • Flight 5: 1:40-2:40
  • Flight 6: 3:05-4:05
  • Flight 7: 4:30-5:30
  • Flight 8: 5:55-6:55

Because of all the dilly-dallying on the ground, Flight 9 won’t get in before closing time, so it gets cut. Using the same assumptions as before, annual revenue just fell from $32.85 million to $29.2 million, a loss of $3.65 million or 11.1 percent. And that’s just on one route. Extrapolate that figure systemwide, and you’re talking some serious coin.

Of course, this idea makes sense if enough passengers are willing to pay a premium for assigned seating. It would have to be a pretty big premium, though — 11.1 percent just to break even. I don’t think many Southwest customers would pay it, given the choice. I sure as hell wouldn’t.

[Hat-tip: Laurence]


May 7, 2006

Thoughts from Gate 38

As I write this, I’m sitting in Concourse C of Tampa International Airport, trying to digest the weekend. I flew out here to visit my friend Meg, a good buddy from my Observer days. Since it’s hard to get away from work, I tend to take my vacations in short spurts — fly out Friday, pack as much action into 48 hours as I possibly can, and fly home Sunday. This weekend was no different.

I enjoy my style of short-duration, high-intensity vacation, but it has its drawbacks. Chief among them is the fact that I get really introspective towards the end.

Meg is a fellow at the Poynter Institute, and several of her friends are fellow journalists. Hanging out with these folks, seeing a cool town with beautiful weather, and generally getting out of Houston really made me second-guess my life. Part of the problem is the thought-distorting effects of nostalgia. Seeing friends from college brings back the good old days, which I know I remember inaccurately.

I remember the fun times: shooting pool at Corby’s, drawn-out dorm-room discussions and snowball fights. Of course, in that sort of nostalgic mindset, I tend to forget the impossible statistics exams, high-pressure deadlines or not being able to get a date. That’s how nostalgia works, I suppose.

But a lot of this little mini-crisis is just good old-fashioned FUD. All these what-ifs buzz around my head, and no one can answer them. What if there’s a perfect house in Chicago or West Texas or London, just waiting for me to make an offer? What if I could make more money at another firm? In another industry? What if I bought a dog or enlisted in the Army or started a business or ran for office?

The second-guessing bothers me because it’s close to disloyalty, as though what I currently have isn’t good enough. And yet, I’m very happy with my life. I have a very comfortable armchair. I live close enough that I can drop in on my family whenever I want. I make a good living at a job I love in an industry I find fascinating. I’m in love with a wonderful girl who loves me back.

Intellectually, I know all those “what-if” questions are unanswerable. I know that constant second-guessing is paralyzing, and I’ve got too much stuff to do. So the solution for now is pretty easy — knock it off. Tomorrow I’ll get up, appraise another building, visit my folks, kiss Diane, and get on with life.

Until my next vacation.


May 4, 2006

Mattsapundit by the numbers

I was looking over my blog’s stats today, and I was blown away by the sheer volume of numbers involved. In the 489 days I’ve maintained Mattsapundit, here’s what my readers and I have generated:

  • 768 posts (1.6/day) in 43 categories
  • 298 comments (0.6/day) from 78 commenters

Here are some stats on my traffic since I’ve been on WordPress (80 days):

  • 4,323 unique visitors (54 visitors/day)
  • 8,622 visits (108 visits/day, 2 visits/visitor/day)
  • 78,567 pages served (982 pages/day, 9 pages/visit)
  • 1.53 GB of data served (19.6 MB/day, 186 KB/visit)

And here are the records:

Most popular time for viewing Mattsapundit is 4:00-5:00 p.m., and the least popular is 1:00-2:00 a.m. The highest-traffic day of the week is Tuesday, and the slowest day is Sunday.

The top referring sites are Lone Star Times, the old Mattsapundit and blogHOUSTON.

The vast majority of readers are in the United States, which I expected. The second most common country is the Netherlands for some reason. I have no idea why. Canada rounds out the top 3.

Windows XP is the most common operating system of Mattsapundit readers, followed by Mac OS X and Linux. Internet Explorer (yuck) is the leading browser, followed closely by Firefox, with Safari in a distant third.

Google is by far the most popular search engine, garnering 89.3% of the searches that end up here. Yahoo and MSN are both in the single digits.

Speaking of search engines, here’s the fun part — the most common search phrases people use to find Mattsapundit. Here are the top 10:

  1. soul glo
  2. wetback mountain
  3. houston roller derby
  4. soul glo video
  5. soul glo audio
  6. mattsapundit
  7. just let your soul glo
  8. carlos mencia wetback mountain
  9. russ sartain
  10. carlos mencias wetback mountain

As a highly trained statistics professional, allow me to make a hypothesis. Y’all really like Coming to America. Good crowd. Along with the popular search phrases, though, there are a lot of bizarre ones. Here are a few:

  • beat you like a redheaded stepchild movies
  • alexander euthanize oliver stone
  • bizarre hooker september holidays
  • transgendered razor bumps african american
  • dried feces on pizza

I’ve asked this before and I’m sure I’ll ask it again: What the hell is the matter with you people?


April 7, 2006

They’re everywhere

Squarebottsdot

This post is dedicated to a ubiquitous but unsung hero of modern transportation infrastructure: the raised pavement marker, or “dot.”

These markers — known in California as “Botts’ dots” after their inventor — are those ubiquitous round or square lumps used as lane markers on roadways all across the Fruited Plain. At first glance, they’re pretty simple. But this apparently simplicity belies a lot of engineering prowess.

Construction

First of all, what are they made of? Well, they come in multiple shapes, and are made of different materials. For an up-close-and-personal look at these little guys, I spoke to Ken Dinning of Professional Pavement Products in Houston, who was gracious enough to tell me everything there is to know about raised pavement markers.

City streets tend to use simple round buttons, measuring 4″ across, like this:

dscn2068

It’s basically just a dome-shaped lump of fired ceramic clay, painted with nonreflective paint and then glazed. It’s 4″ in diameter and 3/4″ thick. The bottom isn’t painted, and has ridges molded into it, giving it a larger surface area for adhesion to the road, which is accomplished using a bituminous glue. (More on that later.) That’s the basic, no-frills marker.

Now we come to the real star of the show, the Class R Raised Retroreflective Pavement Marker. Avery Dennison is the largest manufacturer of Class B dots, but this model is a Glowlite 987, made by the friendly Communists at the Chongqing Universal Pavement Marker Company:

DSCN2069
DSCN2070

As you can see, the construction of a Class B dot is a lot different. It’s a hard ABS plastic shell, filled with a material kinda like concrete. It measures 4″ square and weighs 8 oz. It has a trapezoidal cross-section with a reflector on at least one of the two sloped faces. The reflector, angled at 30° for maximum visibility, exhibits a property called retroreflectivity, meaning all the light shone into the reflector reflects back directly to the source of the light, not in some other direction. No matter what angle you look at the thing, you’ll see the same bright reflection.

Because this type of dot has multiple parts, the colors can be customized in all sorts of ways. The shells come in yellow, white, blue, red and green. The reflectors come in the same colors, and one dot can have two different-colored reflectors. Each color combination has a different application.

For a centerline on a two-way street, the typical dot is a yellow shell with two yellow reflectors. For a lane or shoulder marker, it’s a white shell with a white reflector. But for one-way streets, the lane markers use multiple colors. If you’re driving down a one-way street, you’ll see white reflectors. But the back side — the side you’ll see in the rear-view mirror — has a red reflector, serving as a “wrong way” warning to dumbasses.

Every so often, you’ll see a stray blue dot stuck in the middle of a lane all by its lonesome, with a blue reflector in each direction. This little guy is a silent sentinel of public safety, marking the location of a fire hydrant.

Cost

According to Ken, a typical Class B dot costs about $2 when bought in bulk. But as any Home Depot shopper will tell you, the material price is meaningless. They get you on the labor and adhesives, and the same thing is true with the dot business. The “all-in” price of a dot — including the dot itself, adhesive and installation — is about five bucks.

Installation

Now that you know what the dots are and how much they cost, it’s time to stick ‘em to the road. Highway department use either epoxy or bituminous adhesive, which is similar to roof tar. Texas uses bituminous adhesive, and the specifications for this stuff are pretty demanding. The same adhesive is used for concrete and asphalt roads, and can be applied when the temperature of the road is anywhere from 40°F to 160°F. It has to withstand 200°F temperatures without softening. Dots are not afraid of global warming.

This means you have to heat the stuff to very high temperatures in order to apply it. The adhesive comes in 50-pound and 60-pound blocks, which are fed into a machine that heats it up to around 400°F. The machine crawls along the road and squirts gobs of adhesive at the right intervals. Workers then apply the dots by hand or machine, wiping the reflector lenses with paint-thinner to remove any wayward adhesive. Dots aren’t applied over expansion joints. Florida’s specifications mandate that no more than 2 percent of the dots should come loose or misaligned in the first 45 days of traffic exposure.

Testing

Dots are subjected to a battery of tests that boggles the mind. In California, they’re tested for identification and workmanship, bond strength, glaze thickness, hardness, directional reflectance, index of yellowness, color, autoclave, strength by compressive force and water absorption.

These tests are quite thorough and quite destructive. The dots are examined, manhandled, pulled with machines, shattered with hammers, dipped in hydroflouric acid, baked in ovens, immersed in water, scuffed with steel wool and crushed with 5,000 pounds of direct force.

Only the toughest and strongest dot recruits will be permitted to stand their eternal watch in the highways and byways of the Golden State.

Use and Abuse

In addition to providing visual clues for motorists, their raised nature provides tactile and aural feedback. We’ve all drifted over the line, only to be jerked back to attentive driving by the whump-whump-whump of a sequence of dots.

However, having bumps on the road presents a problem in cold climates — snowplows routinely scrape dots right off the road. In California, standard dots are countersunk in small depressions in the road. However, this is expensive to do, and it reduces the visibility of the dots. Accordingly, manufacturers have developed “snowplowable” dots. 3M’s plowable dot looks like this:

plowable dot

These dots are set in a cast-iron fitting, flush with the roadway or a bit lower. The flat edges along the sides guide a snowplow blade safety over the reflector housing, allowing a close shave every time.

Well, that’s it. Everything you could ever want to know about dots. Thanks to Ken Dinning of Professional Pavement Products for showing me around his store.

BONUS KNOWLEDGE: I learned another interesting fact about the traffic-control business. Speed bumps — “traffic calmers” in the business — are available that will slow down a car, but not an ambulance or fire truck. They’re built just narrower than the width between the tires on an emergency vehicle. Pretty cool, huh?


March 29, 2006

Absolutely, positively

I was sending something via FedEx today, and I noticed something interesting about the carrier’s rate schedules. Thanks to the Rate Finder, I was able to find rates and transit times to send an envelope from Houston to South Bend, Ind. For the sake of discussion, I’ll make the following assumptions:

  • I drop the package off at the last possible dropoff time (8:00 p.m. for the location near me).
  • The package arrives at its destination right on the deadline.
  • The origin and destination are in the same time zone, and they’re both included in “most cities.”

Here’s the data:

fedex table1

Graph the points, and here’s what you get:

fedex graph

Look at the marginal values, and here’s what you get:

fedex table2

This is really the meat of it. Upgrading from the cheapo service to 2Day, Standard Overnight or even Priority Overnight costs a few cents for every hour of improved speed. After all, if you’re torn between 2-day and 3-day service, the package isn’t all that time-sensitive.But First Overnight costs more than $16 per hour of improvement over its cheaper brother, Priority Overnight. I wouldn’t think there are too many situations where 10:30 a.m. isn’t fast enough, but 8:30 a.m. is.

That said, if you’re in one of those situations, it really “absolutely, positively has to get there” first thing in the morning. FedEx knows that in that kind of right-down-to-the-wire, pressure-cooker situation, people will pay. A lot.


March 17, 2006

Self-checkout and the decline of Western Civilization

Time for another grocery store bitch. Wes and I were at Kroger tonight, buying essential supplies for tomorrow’s St. Patrick’s Day party. It was late (11:00 p.m.) or so, and no checkout lanes were open. None. Instead, we had to use the U-Scan self-checkout machines.

I can’t stand those damn things.

I should qualify that. They’re actually pretty convenient when I’m in a hurry, and I just want a Coke or a dozen eggs or something. But when I’ve got a cart full of stuff, I don’t want to check out my own groceries. I don’t want to search for barcodes, I don’t want to weigh fruit, and I don’t want to feed currency into a slot one bill at a time.

One of the problems is usability. After you scan each item, you’re instructed by the maddening feminine voice to “please place the item into the bag.” The bags — flimsy plastic only — are on racks mounted on a big scale. Apparently the weight of each item is programmed into the system as a theft-prevention measure, so some scumbag doesn’t pay for a candy bar and walk off with two cases of Pabst. The problem is that when you have a whole lot of groceries, you run out of room. You try to take one of the full bags off to make more room, and the maddening voice tells you to “place the item back in the bag.”

But my main beef with the damn things is much broader: It’s not my freakin’ job. I already have a job. I get up in the morning and I work very hard at my job. When I go to spend the money I made at my job, I don’t want to do someone else’s job. There’s a reason the good Lord made pizza-faced 16-year-olds, and that reason is so that I don’t have to run a six-pack over a laser grid 17 times.

Some of you might find my anti-U-Scan position at odds with my nature as a free marketeer. After all, Kroger is just trying to make a buck, so what’s wrong with that? Not a thing. The company is certainly free to conduct its business however it wants. But so am I, and that’s why I usually shop at Randalls, where they have real live people to ring up my groceries. Imagine that!

I also have a problem with it on a larger level. Society-wide, the notion of customer service has been slipping because we, the consuming public, have allowed it to slip. Sixty years ago, I bet the notion of routinely pumping your own gas was pretty foreign. Nowadays, it’s pretty rare to even find a full-service pump. In fact, the assholes responsible for the U-Scan monstrosity admit their inspiration, in part, came from the decline in gas station service:

Based on their acceptance of ATMs and pay-at-the-pump fueling, “customers show they are willing to use self-service technology,” says Jim Mueller, director of information technology for Shnuck Markets. “The technology is now more secure and reliable and customers feel comfortable guiding themselves through the checkout process.”

Bullshit.


March 14, 2006

Weight loss by the numbers

Most of y’all know that I’ve been losing some weight lately. Thanks to the excellent Weight Watchers program, I’ve gone from an all-time high of 271.6 to my current weight, as of this morning, of 197.5. That’s a loss of 74.1 pounds.

Clearly, there are lots of figures involved, I thought I’d break down the numbers of losing weight.

No weight-loss program causes the subject to lose fat exclusively. Unfortunately, there’s some loss of lean muscle mass as well. Based on my body fat figures, I estimate that about 60% of the weight I’ve lost has been fat, with the balance being muscle. So here’s the first breakdown:

Total weight loss: 71.4 lbs.
Fat loss: 42.8 lbs.
Muscle loss: 28.6 lbs.

I started on June 20, 2005. Thanks to this nifty little calculator, I can see that I have been on this program for 267 days. That brings us to the next breakdown — weight loss over time. Numbers under a pound are expressed in ounces, and there’s a small margin of error due to rounding.

Total weight loss: 4.3 oz/day, 1.9 lbs/week, 8 lbs/month
Fat loss: 2.6 oz/day, 1.1 lbs/week, 4.8 lbs/month
Muscle loss: 1.7 oz/day, 12 oz/week, 3.2 lbs/month

As common sense will tell you, the only way to lose weight is to expend more calories than you take in. A net calorie deficit means you’ll lose weight. So let’s figure out my deficit. First, we have to convert the above figures to Metric, using yet another nifty little calculator.

Total weight loss:  32,386 grams
Fat loss: 19,432 grams
Muscle loss: 12,954 grams

Fat, as we all learned in high school health class, packs about nine calories per gram. Muscle is four calories/gram. So now let’s look at the losses in calorie terms:

Fat loss: 174,888 calories
Muscle loss: 51,816 calories
Total loss: 226,704

That’s a lot of calories. Such a high number that it’s pretty much meaningless, unless you break it down over time, as we did before.

Total loss/month: 25,472 calories
Total loss/week: 5,944 calories
Total loss/day: 849 calories

So I must be burning, on average, 849 calories/day more than I’m eating. How can that be? Well, let’s figure out my metabolic rate, or the total number of calories I burn in a day. The basal metabolic rate is the energy the body expends just keeping itself alive: breathing lungs, a beating heart, and bajillions of synapses firing takes energy. The commonly used formula is the Harris-Benedict equation:

BMR = 66 + (13.7 X weight in kg) + (5 X height in cm) – (6.8 X age in years)

Fortunately, I am blessed with both height and youth, which help keep the metabolic engine chugging along nicely. Thanks to yet another nifty little calculator we can see my basal metabolic rate is as follows:

BMR: 2,095.3 calories/day.

However, I like to think that my life is a bit more than just breathing. In order to find true daily energy expenditure, you have to take activity into account. In order to do that, you multiply BMR by an activity multiplier. They range from 1.2 for a sedentary lifestyle to 1.9 for someone in intense training. Mine is 1.55, defined as “moderate exercise or sports 3-5 days a week.) So, my total daily energy expenditure (TDEE) is something like:

TDEE: 3,248 calories/day.

Earlier, we established my calorie deficit to be 849 calories/day. To figure out how much I’m eating, we apply this formula:

Intake – TDEE = deficit

And we learn that my average calorie intake has been something like 2,399 calories/day, assuming the above formulas are accurate. The U.S. Food and Drug Administration bases federally-mandated nutrition labels on a 2,000 calorie diet, so it’s possible to eat significantly more than that (in my case, 20% more) and lose a whole lot of weight.

Of course, weight loss is a lot more complicated than that. You don’t just eat a raw lump of calories. You eat food, and different kinds of foods are metabolized differently. That’ll be the subject of my next post.


March 7, 2006

On colored pieces of paper

Paper is a ubiquitous thing. I’m constantly amazed when I empty my pockets every evening at the pieces of paper that have accumulated: receipts, notes, matchbooks, business cards, you name it. They come in all different colors, but in most cases, the color isn’t essential to the item. Matches and business cards can come in any color, as long as the print is contrasted enough to read.
But some documents are so closely linked with their color in the public’s mind that they’re identified solely by their color.

Probably the most common household example is the Yellow Pages, a telephone directory organized by industry. But it’s not the only example. Think of a color, and there’s paper to go with it.

A white paper is a document outlining a policy, product or service, generally in much more depth than an advertisement or sound bite. Then there’s the White Pages, a business or residential telephone directory arranged alphabetically.
Pink sheets is a system of quoting stock prices for over-the-counter stocks, generally small and thinly capitalized companies. The term can also refer to the companies themselves. Depending on the context, a pink slip is either a layoff notice or the title certificate to an automobile.

Speaking of cars, where do you look for the value of a used car? The Kelley Blue Book, of course. (This blue book is packed with useful information, unlike the blue books I filled out in college.) But if you’re in Austrialia, the gold standard for used-car prices is found in the Red Book. This shouldn’t be be confused with Mao Zedong’s Little Red Book or the Redbook women’s magazine.

While we’re on books, there’s the Black Book, which lists the names and photographs of people banned from casinos. This book is a kind of blacklist. (There are whitelists, too, usually in the computer world.) Significantly more enjoyable is the little black book, a playboy’s directory of available women.

If books are too unwieldy for you, try a card. How about the Green Card, which is proof of legal permanent resident status for aliens in the United States. Or there’s the Gold Card, which gives you carte blanche to buy whatever you want. In soccer, yellow and red cards are used to warn and eject a player, respectively.

Okay, enough with all this color. Time to get back to work. Gotta make those greenbacks.


January 23, 2006

Just let your Soul Glo…

I was in the grocery store the other day, and I noticed a section of toiletry-type products marked “Ethnic HBC.” I assume HBC means “hair and beauty care,” or something like that. The products were all targeted at the beauty concerns of black folks, and they bore photographs of attractive black people.

Black guys tend to get razor bumps from shaving, so companies offer special lotions and shaving creams to combat that problem. Black folks tend to have coarse, kinky hair, which requires different care than the straight or curly hair generally found on people of other races.

That’s all fine with me. We’re all different, and we have different needs in beauty products. Look at soap: some people have oily skin, some have very dry skin, some are allergic to fragrances, some break out very easily. These are biological differences, and different products are available to address them.

My problem is with the use of the word “ethnic.” Words mean things, and the grocery chain is stripping this word of its proper meaning. Everyone is ethnic. Here’s how Merriam-Webster defines the word:

of or relating to large groups of people classed according to common racial, national, tribal, religious, linguistic, or cultural origin or background

And that’s the second definition, which I think is more commonly used. The first definition is actually pretty insulting:

HEATHEN

So, instead of using “Black Hair Care” or “African-American Beauty Products,” the company opted instead to say something that could be interpreted as “Heathen Beauty Products” or “Uncivilized Hair Care.” Yikes.

Of course, the company wasn’t trying to say that. It just refused to say “Black” or “African-American,” probably to avoid appearing divisive or segregationist. Instead, it’s stuck saying something which is meaningless at best, and horribly racist at worst.

And yet, the company is inconsistent in its practice. The same store has a section, stocked with foods from Mexico. It’s got Goya products, hot peppers, and even candles with Catholic saints on them. This section is labeled “Hispanic.”

I find it interesting that one ethnic minority can be marketed to explicitly and openly, while another ethnic minority is marketed to only by use of a code word.


January 9, 2006

AT&T gets new logo, still won’t sell me a telegraph

Telecom giant AT&T recently revamped its logo, following its purchase by SBC. Trivial? Maybe at a glance, but the financial implications are enormous. Just think of the costs the company will have to incur:

An extensive re-branding initiative will occur over several months, with changes planned for the following:

  • Nearly 50,000 company vehicles.
  • More than 6,000 company buildings
  • Roughly 40,000 uniforms and hardhats worn by company service representatives.
  • More than 30 million monthly customer bills.
  • Millions of business cards, customer information pamphlets, and phone and online directories.
  • Company Web sites.

We’re talking a long-term change, costing millions upon millions of dollars. You can’t just roll into Earl Scheib and get 50,000 trucks painted overnight. So it’s a big deal.

Time for some critical analysis. Here’s the design that used to grace Ma Bell’s shingle:

The old logo — which was jealously protected — consists of a blue circle made of latitudinal lines, on the upper left portion of which is projected a round, glowing spot. Both a solid (shown above) and a gradient version were produced. The gradient version is pretty much the same, only it has various shades of blue, which offer a more spherical feel. Below this symbol is “AT&T.” Let’s take a look at the portions of the old logo and what they represent:

  • Blue circle: The Earth. It may be American Telephone and Telegraph, but it reaches across the globe.
  • Latitudinal lines: Connote the global and communicative nature of the company, while visually turning a circle into a sphere.
  • Glowing spot: Located in the northern and western hemispheres of this logo, the glowing spot represents the enlightened modernity (thanks to Ma Bell) distinctive of the American telecommunications system. It’s the A in AT&T.
  • “AT&T”: Printed in a bold, don’t-fuck-with-us, monopolistic typeface.

I always liked this logo. It was simple, with only two colors (three, if you count the white). It was instantly recognizable even without the text, like the Chevrolet bow tie, the Nike swoosh, or the Apple apple. And it kinda looked like a baby blue Death Star.

Now, the new design, created by Interbrand:
Here’s my take on the new logo, bit by bit

  • Blue and white circle: Still the earth, though the weather appears to be significantly cloudier than it was in the ’80s, and the planet is much more translucent. Possibly meant to evoke ideas of the transparency and openness that global communications can bring. Or maybe not.
  • Latitudinal lines, with see-through effect: Same idea as the old logo, but intended for a more pronounced 3-D effect. It comes off looking like a beach ball.
  • Glowing spot: Much less pronounced, and reversed in color. Here, the latitudinal blue lines swell. The placement is still in the northern and western hemisphere, though that’s more subtle now, since the top of the globe has been rotated towards the viewer and to the left a few degrees. Again, it’s an effort to emphasize the three-dimensional nature of the design. I’m not sure why; that whole round-earth thing was settled a while back. Or maybe not.
  • Lowercase letters: The boldface is gone, and the letters are kinder and gentler. A sort of cutesy aw-shucks, we’re-still-here false modesty. Crap. An $80 billion corporation has no business acting like a teenaged girl named Staci who dots the I with a heart.

As you can probably tell, I’m not a big fan of this one. I don’t think there’s any major strategic screw-up on AT&T’s part; I just don’t find the new logo aesthetically pleasing. That said, AT&T did a number of things right with this rebranding, and the company should be applauded.

First, the company stayed true to its roots by refusing to rename itself. It’s still AT&T, just like it’s been since the earth cooled. The company was formed by the union of two firms with refreshingly boring names: SBC Communications (formerly Southwestern Bell), and AT&T (formerly American Telephone and Telegraph Company). The brass could’ve made up a name by splicing real words, like American Express did when it spun off its brokerage as “Ameriprise.” Or, it could’ve come up with a stupid name that focus-grouped well, despite being completely devoid of meaning. Altria and Enron come to mind. And in the phone business, we’ve got Verizon. Select a prescription drug at random for another meaningless name. Kudos to the AT&T board, for dancing with the guy that brung ‘em.

Second, the changes in the logo are evolutionary, not revolutionary. The overall design is pretty much the same; it’s just been tweaked a little to bring it up to date. The change is similar to Apple shedding its rainbow in or NBC’s peacock refits, Small, incremental modifications connote stability, something consumers like to see in what is really a utility company, and those changes have been apparent during the history of Bell/SBC/AT&T, something the company points out.

Third, the logo’s three-dimensional design allows for a greater range of motion than the old, flatter mark. I saw a commercial where the ball spun 90 degrees or so, bringing the bolder blue portion across, and it looked nice. One geeky beef: in the commercial, the logo rotated clockwise (from a north pole vantage point). The real world spins counterclockwise. Was this a subtle message that AT&T is company that’s unafraid to go against the grain? Maybe. But probably some animator just nodded off in his astrophysics lectures.

Fourth, the new vans look really cool.

Here’s AT&T’s official corporate stuff about the merger in general, and about the logo’s unveiling. And of course, other bloggers have a lot to say.


October 25, 2005

Where are Houston’s ‘focal points?’

Tory at Houston Strategies has a post about “focal points,” meaning places you’d naturally go to find someone you’re trying to meet:

You are meeting someone in New York on a given day, but don’t know a time or place. Where would you go and when? The surprisingly common answer is “under the clock at Grand Central Station at noon.” Interesting variants include the country (Washington Monument in DC?) or the world (the entrance to the United Nations in New York?).So, of course, this got me thinking about Houston. What’s our focal point? And I think I’d like to propose two variants:

  1. Where would two locals most likely meet?
  2. Where would two people from out-of-town most likely meet?

Tory suggests the water wall at Williams Tower, or the Galleria. It’s a thought-provoking discussion.

So what’s your focal point for the Bayou City?


July 12, 2005

Night Hawk frozen dinner soars on flavor, aesthetically shits on windshield

I promised yesterday that I would eat and review a Night Hawk frozen dinner. Being a man of my word, I rolled into Kroger today, slammed $2.15 on the counter and picked one up. Specifically, it’s a Night Hawk “Taste of Texas” frozen dinner. The box describes it as a “Charbroiled Beef Patty with Gravy, Western Style Beans and Cornbread.”

Federally mandated nutrition facts are as follows:

Calories: 340
Calories from Fat: 130Total Fat: 15g (23% of RDA)
Saturated Fat: 5g (25%)

Cholesterol: 65mg (22%)

Sodium: 850mg (35%)

Total Carbohydrates: 32g (11%)
Dietary Fiber: 3g (12%)
Sugars: 3g

Protein: 20g

Vitamin A: 8%
Vitamin C: 4%
Calcium: 10%
Iron: 20%

I calculated the Weight Watchers Points value at 7, or 23% of my daily allotment of tasty vittles.

Next, the hype. Night Hawk’s package declares:

Charbroiling… it’s what has made the Night Hawk Flavor Unique for over 35 years!Every Night Hawk meal features a top quality meat entree that’s been charbroiled over an open flame to sear in the natural juices and that great charbroiled flavor. And, Night Hawk’s homestyle side dishes perfectly complement every meal.

Night Hawk meals are delicious and easy to enjoy because we take the time to prepare our meals the way would would…if you had the time.

Now, the review.

The meal predictably is delivered in a thin cardboard box, festooned with stylized flames and pictures of a delicious meal served on an attractive stoneware plate with colorful vegetable garnish.

After lustily tearing the box open, I discovered that the actual meal is served in a three-compartmented polyethylene terephthalate tray with a thin wrapper on top. A few wrapper punctures and 2800 microwave watt-minutes later, lunch was served:

Yummy.
The subject.

The meat was excellent, once I let it cool to below fusion temperature. Though the package lists the patty’s ingredients as “beef, water, textured vegetable protein,” It was an attractive piece of meat, with grill marks that didn’t look very fake. It had a good beefy flavor without the overwhelming salty taste of most TV dinners, and it was properly juicy, not soggy or rubbery. Good texture.

The gravy had separated into its components, Brown Liquid Stuff and Translucent Gelatinous Stuff. Pretty nasty looking. After a quick mixing with a fork, however, it turned into decent, but unremarkable brown gravy.

The beans were nearly indistinguishable from Ranch Style beans in flavor and appearance, though the sauce was somewhat congealed. The good people at Night Hawk would do well to thin it out a little bit.

The cornbread was mangled beyond all recognition. Somehow, the upper half of the cornbread nugget had migrated beyond its borders, sticking to the plastic wrap. After cooking, this portion was somewhat rubbery, but served nobly in its function of sopping up the newly reconstituted brown gravy. The bottom half of the cornbread, on the other hand, wasn’t very functional. It was hard, crispy, and not at all suited for soaking up remnants of gravy and congealed bean vehicle. The color was perfect, though.

Alas, I mistakenly selected probably the only Night Hawk meal that doesn’t come with the vaunted Steak Sauce Packet, so no review on that.

All in all, it was pretty good, but I’m still kinda hungry.

Appearance: (out of four)

Taste:

Nutritional Value:

Bang for the Buck:

Overall:


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