By now, I know myself well enough to know that New Years' resolutions are a waste of time. I've made and broken enough resolutions over the years to know that I can't depend on myself to keep all those well-intentioned promises.
Over the years, I've made and broken promises to quit drinking, quit smoking, eat better, exercise more, go to church, stop gambling, be a better person, work harder, work less, get more sleep, eat my vegetables, say my prayers, etc. etc ad infinitum. All these wonderful ideas for making life better, so carefully thought out in December forgotten before Valentine's Day.
And then there were all those resolutions made in the drunken, hungover haze of New Years' morning. How many times did I vow I'd had my last drink before noon on Jan. 1 and forget long before midnight?
In spite of the odds, in spite of my past record, I will try again this year. Maybe by sending my resolutions out to the world I'll feel a greater sense of responsibility. Knowing that some school kid in Hong Kong might stumble across my blog makes me somehow more accountable.
In 2011, I resolve to be a kinder person to everyone. Make that everyone except bill collectors. I know that they really are human beings doing a crummy job for crummy wages, but no kindness for them.
In 2011, I resolve to be more optimistic. In spite of all the evidence to the contrary, I will remind myself every day that life is good.
In 2011, I resolve to be grateful for what I have and share my wealth of gratitude with others.
I will also quit smoking, start walking, listen more and talk less.
Wish me luck. Your comments and suggestions are welcomed.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Buying A Car
Today I am going out with my son to try to buy a car. I'm going along for the ride to keep my boy from getting his head knocked off by a salesman. Hopefully, my calm presence will prevent him from making a terrible mistake. Hey, there's a first time for everything.
I've tried in the past to assist all my children when the time came to buy a car. For the most part, they've ignored my advice and limited my assistance to providing cash.
I am not a meddlesome father. For the most part, my adult children conduct their lives the way they see fit, with the mixed results you'd expect from amateurs. When it comes to schools, work or the people they marry, I keep my nose out of their business. I stick to what I know and I know how to buy cars. I know how to buy cars because I used to sell cars and I know all the tricks the dealers use to pick your pockets.
Today, we'll start our search at CarMax, the home of "no haggle pricing." Whoever invented the idea of "no haggle pricing" was a marketing genius.
It certainly has a ring to it. "No haggle pricing" sounds so much more appealing than "Just pay what we say and go away." But that's really what they mean by "no haggle pricing."
Many people find haggling over the price of a vehicle distasteful. That's the beauty of the slogan. Car dealers spent decades trying very hard to make the buying process as distasteful as possible. At Carmax and other "no haggle" dealers, they will take the most distasteful part of the process out if you'll just agree to lay down and do what you're told. You'll wind up paying hundreds or thousands more than necessary, but you can avoid the hassel of negotiating with a salesman, his sales manager and the owner.
We're certainly going to test the "no haggle" slogan today. We'll begin by ascertaining how much his beat-up 1996 Honda van is worth. I wouldn't give you $100 for the wreck, but I'm expecting the folks at CarMax to pony up a couple of grand for it. They'll have to if this deal is going to work because he'll need that money for his down payment.
CarMax doesn't sell 15 year old wrecks like Will's Odessey. But that doesn't mean they won't buy it and send it off to auction. They won't make a dime on the sale, but that's really not the point. They'll make their money selling cars, not buying them. Many times, it works both ways for the dealer, but not in this case. They will likely be willing to take a loss on the trade if they'll make enough profit on the sale to justify it.
Today is likely just a test run. I don't expect to buy a car today. I want to do what the dealer does, build excitement and anticipation. But it's the salesman I want to build up, not Will. My job today is to keep him calm and collected so as to avoid a costly mistake.
The salesman wants to close the deal TODAY. He will have other customers to deal with tomorrow. He wants to get you and your dream car off the lot TODAY. Listen to his pitch and you'll hear that word frequently. Tomorrow is out theme today. Tomorrow, the price will be lower. Tomorrow, he'll need to make a sale more than today. Tomorrow, we win. Tomorrow it's going to rain. Tomorrow, no one else will be interested in that car he's trying to sell TODAY.
UPDATE: It turns out Car Max really means it when they say "no haggling" We never got past their $500 offer for Will's Odessey. Financing anything may be difficult for a kid with no credit history. I scouted out a few "Tote the Note" joints, but they don't have much to pick from. A lot of the lots were half-empty.
The Odessey continues...
I've tried in the past to assist all my children when the time came to buy a car. For the most part, they've ignored my advice and limited my assistance to providing cash.
I am not a meddlesome father. For the most part, my adult children conduct their lives the way they see fit, with the mixed results you'd expect from amateurs. When it comes to schools, work or the people they marry, I keep my nose out of their business. I stick to what I know and I know how to buy cars. I know how to buy cars because I used to sell cars and I know all the tricks the dealers use to pick your pockets.
Today, we'll start our search at CarMax, the home of "no haggle pricing." Whoever invented the idea of "no haggle pricing" was a marketing genius.
It certainly has a ring to it. "No haggle pricing" sounds so much more appealing than "Just pay what we say and go away." But that's really what they mean by "no haggle pricing."
Many people find haggling over the price of a vehicle distasteful. That's the beauty of the slogan. Car dealers spent decades trying very hard to make the buying process as distasteful as possible. At Carmax and other "no haggle" dealers, they will take the most distasteful part of the process out if you'll just agree to lay down and do what you're told. You'll wind up paying hundreds or thousands more than necessary, but you can avoid the hassel of negotiating with a salesman, his sales manager and the owner.
We're certainly going to test the "no haggle" slogan today. We'll begin by ascertaining how much his beat-up 1996 Honda van is worth. I wouldn't give you $100 for the wreck, but I'm expecting the folks at CarMax to pony up a couple of grand for it. They'll have to if this deal is going to work because he'll need that money for his down payment.
CarMax doesn't sell 15 year old wrecks like Will's Odessey. But that doesn't mean they won't buy it and send it off to auction. They won't make a dime on the sale, but that's really not the point. They'll make their money selling cars, not buying them. Many times, it works both ways for the dealer, but not in this case. They will likely be willing to take a loss on the trade if they'll make enough profit on the sale to justify it.
Today is likely just a test run. I don't expect to buy a car today. I want to do what the dealer does, build excitement and anticipation. But it's the salesman I want to build up, not Will. My job today is to keep him calm and collected so as to avoid a costly mistake.
The salesman wants to close the deal TODAY. He will have other customers to deal with tomorrow. He wants to get you and your dream car off the lot TODAY. Listen to his pitch and you'll hear that word frequently. Tomorrow is out theme today. Tomorrow, the price will be lower. Tomorrow, he'll need to make a sale more than today. Tomorrow, we win. Tomorrow it's going to rain. Tomorrow, no one else will be interested in that car he's trying to sell TODAY.
UPDATE: It turns out Car Max really means it when they say "no haggling" We never got past their $500 offer for Will's Odessey. Financing anything may be difficult for a kid with no credit history. I scouted out a few "Tote the Note" joints, but they don't have much to pick from. A lot of the lots were half-empty.
The Odessey continues...
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Street News has no street cred
Last month, I came across a web site called Memphis Street News that proported to be an online news service geared to Memphis. I noticed that the articles on the web site seemed vaguely familiar. A Google search quickly showed that the "articles" on the Street web site were originally published in The Commercial Appeal, a print publication in the Bluff City. Someone at Street News was simply cutting up the original stories published in the Commercial Appeal and piecing them back together for use on the web site. If the Street News was a college student, this would be known as plagiarism and expulsion would be in order. But in this case, the offender is guilty of copyright infringemnt for the unauthorized use of the Commercial Appeal's intellectual property.
The web site's owner, Tony Falasca, took exception to my criticism and threatened to sue me. This is the sort of bullying tactic I've seen before. Tony isn't the first person to threaten to sue me over words I wrote and published. Fortunately, it's just an empty threat, a bully's best effort to silence criticism of his questionable business practises.
Apparently Tony knows as little about the law as he does about journalism. In order to win a libel case, he will have to prove that I knowingly published false information about him and his web site. Nothing I wrote about his web site was untrue. A quick Google search of his web site and the Commercial Appeal archives will clearly demonstrate that he published stories taken directly from the print publication. No lies, no libel.
But even if the truth weren't on my side, I have yet another defense that Tony and his attorney should consider. I'm flat broke. In the unlikely event that Tony could somehow win a judgement in court, he will never collect damages because there's nothing to collect. I suppose he could win my 15-year-old car, but beyond that, there's precious little to collect.
The web site's owner, Tony Falasca, took exception to my criticism and threatened to sue me. This is the sort of bullying tactic I've seen before. Tony isn't the first person to threaten to sue me over words I wrote and published. Fortunately, it's just an empty threat, a bully's best effort to silence criticism of his questionable business practises.
Apparently Tony knows as little about the law as he does about journalism. In order to win a libel case, he will have to prove that I knowingly published false information about him and his web site. Nothing I wrote about his web site was untrue. A quick Google search of his web site and the Commercial Appeal archives will clearly demonstrate that he published stories taken directly from the print publication. No lies, no libel.
But even if the truth weren't on my side, I have yet another defense that Tony and his attorney should consider. I'm flat broke. In the unlikely event that Tony could somehow win a judgement in court, he will never collect damages because there's nothing to collect. I suppose he could win my 15-year-old car, but beyond that, there's precious little to collect.
Pickler's Pickle
David Pickler is a member of the Shelby County Board of Education. A senior member of the school board, Pickler serves as the chairman of the board. Earlier this year, Pickler proposed that the county school board seek special school district status from the state.
Special school district status would allow the Shelby County school board to impose taxes to fund education and would freeze the current borders of the county school system. Within Shelby County, the city of Memphis operates its own school system. The county-run schools are mostly white, in suburban areas outside Memphis. The Memphis city schools are predominantly black and serve an inner city community plagued by poverty and crime.
In recent years, Memphis has expanded its boundaries through annexation. With each annexation, schools that were built by the county school system were turned over to Memphis officials following annexation.
Pickler argued that the county schools needed special status in order to make long-range plans. He said that special school district status would permanently freeze the current district boundaries, preventing Memphis from annexing county-operated schools.
Both city and county schools are funded, in part, with county property tax revenues. Under the current formula, the much larger city school system receives $3 for every $1 allocated to county schools. In addition to county tax revenues, the city school system also receives funding from city taxpayers. Memphis school officials heave learned that counting on the city's share of funding can be problematic. A few years ago, in order to cut city taxes, Memphis City Council cut the city's funding for schools by millions. Memphis schools filed suit and won in court, but have yet to receive the money that was withheld.
Pickler's plan to create a special school district, with taxing authority, aroused Memphis school officials. If approved, the county schools would have authority to tax residents. Funds generated by the special district tax would not have to be shared with Memphis schools. The result - county taxes would decline while city tax rates would increase substantially.
As a result, Memphis school officials voted to disband the city school system. If approved in a referendum of city residents, the city school system would cease to exist, leaving it the responsibility of the county school system to operate the city schools as well.
Disbanding a large inner city school system seems like an act of surrender to me. But the idea has been gaining traction within the city. Some see consolidating the suburban and city school systems as the last hope for united this divided community. Memphis voters will decide the question some time in February, when the weather is likely to produce a slim turnout. A vocal minority of voters could produce a stunning change in the way kids are educated in Shelby County and Memphis.
This certainly isn't the way Pickler envisioned things when he first proposed setting up a special school district.
Special school district status would allow the Shelby County school board to impose taxes to fund education and would freeze the current borders of the county school system. Within Shelby County, the city of Memphis operates its own school system. The county-run schools are mostly white, in suburban areas outside Memphis. The Memphis city schools are predominantly black and serve an inner city community plagued by poverty and crime.
In recent years, Memphis has expanded its boundaries through annexation. With each annexation, schools that were built by the county school system were turned over to Memphis officials following annexation.
Pickler argued that the county schools needed special status in order to make long-range plans. He said that special school district status would permanently freeze the current district boundaries, preventing Memphis from annexing county-operated schools.
Both city and county schools are funded, in part, with county property tax revenues. Under the current formula, the much larger city school system receives $3 for every $1 allocated to county schools. In addition to county tax revenues, the city school system also receives funding from city taxpayers. Memphis school officials heave learned that counting on the city's share of funding can be problematic. A few years ago, in order to cut city taxes, Memphis City Council cut the city's funding for schools by millions. Memphis schools filed suit and won in court, but have yet to receive the money that was withheld.
Pickler's plan to create a special school district, with taxing authority, aroused Memphis school officials. If approved, the county schools would have authority to tax residents. Funds generated by the special district tax would not have to be shared with Memphis schools. The result - county taxes would decline while city tax rates would increase substantially.
As a result, Memphis school officials voted to disband the city school system. If approved in a referendum of city residents, the city school system would cease to exist, leaving it the responsibility of the county school system to operate the city schools as well.
Disbanding a large inner city school system seems like an act of surrender to me. But the idea has been gaining traction within the city. Some see consolidating the suburban and city school systems as the last hope for united this divided community. Memphis voters will decide the question some time in February, when the weather is likely to produce a slim turnout. A vocal minority of voters could produce a stunning change in the way kids are educated in Shelby County and Memphis.
This certainly isn't the way Pickler envisioned things when he first proposed setting up a special school district.
Macy's
My brief career as a sales associate at Macys came to an end on Christmas Eve. I was hired as a seasonal employee back in November.
I began my new career on Black Friday. The only training I received was a three-hour computer tutorial followed by a tour of the store. I managed to get through that crazy first day by smiling a lot at the customers. We were so busy, the nine-hour shift went by quickly. It was on the slow days and nights that I realized what a mindless, depressing job it could be. How many times can you fold and refold Dockers and sweaters without losing your mind? I didn't find out, but I suspect it would get to you after a while.
I can only imagine how boring a job it can be when there are no customers to wait on, or greet, or ring up. And I also imagine that there are many, many hours like that for sales people who work full-time.
The toughest part of the job for me was the wear and tear of being on your feet for eight hours, standing on hard marble floors. At the end of a day, my dogs would be barking. I learned to spend as much time as possible on the small carpeted spots on the sales floor. Thankfully, Macys does have carpet at the cash registers.
Just like a car dealership, Macys starts each day by trying to pump up the sales force. I don't think it really works, but they do it anyway. I never could get pumped up at 7:45 am, especially if I worked the night before. I guess it gives the managers something to do to make them feel managerial.
I worked for a couple of managers, young folks in what was probably their first management position. For the first few days, they felt like they had to make suggestions or give orders every time I saw them. After a few days, they decided I could keep myself busy without their supervision. It really wasn't hard - wait on customers or fold pants and sweaters. Since I wasn't mad about folding sweaters, I made sure no one walking through my department was neglected.
Working in retail at Christmas wasn't the horror story I anticipated. Oh, the wages are pitiful and the hours sporadic, but I wasn't subjected to abuse at the hands of customers. In a month at Macys', I only came across two real assholes. Most people responded to me the way I responded to them, with a smile.
I was worried about running into old friends or acquaintences. Worried that they'd see me in this trivial job and pity my fall. That never happened. I did run into many people I knew, but they all seemed to understand that I was there to do a job and earn some money. In today's economy, even a crummy job is better than no job.
The best customers were folks who had once stood in my shoes with aching feet. I don't know how many times a customer told me, "I used to work in retail. I feel sorry for you."
Would I do it again? Well, I hope the economy improves and provides me with some alternatives, but if things don't get better, I suspect I'll be back at Macys' next year, folding sweaters and smiling through aching feet.
I began my new career on Black Friday. The only training I received was a three-hour computer tutorial followed by a tour of the store. I managed to get through that crazy first day by smiling a lot at the customers. We were so busy, the nine-hour shift went by quickly. It was on the slow days and nights that I realized what a mindless, depressing job it could be. How many times can you fold and refold Dockers and sweaters without losing your mind? I didn't find out, but I suspect it would get to you after a while.
I can only imagine how boring a job it can be when there are no customers to wait on, or greet, or ring up. And I also imagine that there are many, many hours like that for sales people who work full-time.
The toughest part of the job for me was the wear and tear of being on your feet for eight hours, standing on hard marble floors. At the end of a day, my dogs would be barking. I learned to spend as much time as possible on the small carpeted spots on the sales floor. Thankfully, Macys does have carpet at the cash registers.
Just like a car dealership, Macys starts each day by trying to pump up the sales force. I don't think it really works, but they do it anyway. I never could get pumped up at 7:45 am, especially if I worked the night before. I guess it gives the managers something to do to make them feel managerial.
I worked for a couple of managers, young folks in what was probably their first management position. For the first few days, they felt like they had to make suggestions or give orders every time I saw them. After a few days, they decided I could keep myself busy without their supervision. It really wasn't hard - wait on customers or fold pants and sweaters. Since I wasn't mad about folding sweaters, I made sure no one walking through my department was neglected.
Working in retail at Christmas wasn't the horror story I anticipated. Oh, the wages are pitiful and the hours sporadic, but I wasn't subjected to abuse at the hands of customers. In a month at Macys', I only came across two real assholes. Most people responded to me the way I responded to them, with a smile.
I was worried about running into old friends or acquaintences. Worried that they'd see me in this trivial job and pity my fall. That never happened. I did run into many people I knew, but they all seemed to understand that I was there to do a job and earn some money. In today's economy, even a crummy job is better than no job.
The best customers were folks who had once stood in my shoes with aching feet. I don't know how many times a customer told me, "I used to work in retail. I feel sorry for you."
Would I do it again? Well, I hope the economy improves and provides me with some alternatives, but if things don't get better, I suspect I'll be back at Macys' next year, folding sweaters and smiling through aching feet.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Race Town
If there is a city in America that is more divided racially than Memphis, Tn. I have never been there. I suspect that if America ever again has race riots in the streets, the riots will begin in Memphis.
While other American cities torn by the race riots of the 60s have moved on, Memphis remains stubbornly fixed in place. While most of America has progressed from the days of segregation, Memphis continues to pick at the sores of a shameful period in American history. Even though recent decades have seen an influx of Mexicans, Cambodians, Chinese and Indian residents, Memphis continues to view every conflict as a racial conflict between black and white.
There are very few integrated neighborhoods in Memphis. The ghettos in North Memphis and South Memphis are solidly black. Whites gravitate to the gated communities in East Memphis. The city itself is majority black, while just beyond the city limits, whites are the overwhelming majority, the result of decades of "white flight" to the suburbs.
Two generations after school desegregation ended, Memphis city schools are more segregated than ever, with some schools reporting nearly 100% minority students. Outside the city limits, Shelby County operates a separate school system that is majority white.
Memphis churches are even more racially divided than its schools or neighborhoods.
Other cities have moved beyond the divisiveness of the Jim Crow South. Why is Memphis a notable exception?
Politics is certainly one of the main reasons. For nearly 40 years now, black politicians have worked to maintain the divide between blacks and whites in order to hold political power on the local level. The Ford family built a political dynasty by playing to the resentment of black residents who once were barred from many aspects of life. The scion of the Ford dynasty portrayed whites as devils in order to maintain his congressional seat. Memphis mayor Willie Herenton repeatedly stoked the fires of racial hatred in order to win five terms as the city's first black mayor. Herenton would portray his critics as racists and Uncle Toms while enriching himself with real estate deals and ignoring the needs of the black poor.
When law enforcement caught a number of black officials soliciting and receiving bribes, these thieves attempted to convince the public they were singled out because of race by racist prosecutors. The county commission is similarly divided - with black Democrats holding seats within the city limits and white Republicans controlling the suburban bloc.
But perhaps the worst offender in creating racial tension may be the daily newspaper, The Commercial Appeal. Hardly a week goes by where the newspaper hasn't published a story guaranteed to heighten racial tensions. Today's newspaper is a prime example. In one front page story, the CA informs readers that black men still make significantly less money than white men. Is this really news? In the same edition, a letter to the editor criticizes an earlier article that suggested that the Civil War was fought to end slavery. The letter received more than 170 responses online. One hundred and fifty years later, Memphians want to refight what's called the War of Northern Aggression.
For years, a racist named Mike Fleming had a daily talk show which he used to fuel racial tensions in order to attract ratings. Fleming is forgotten now. He's disappeared except for an occasional television appearance as a so-called "political expert." But the daily newspaper that once employed Fleming has taken up his cause, continuing to stir racial tensions in Memphis at every opportunity. I hope I am far away when those tensions once more come to a boil.
While other American cities torn by the race riots of the 60s have moved on, Memphis remains stubbornly fixed in place. While most of America has progressed from the days of segregation, Memphis continues to pick at the sores of a shameful period in American history. Even though recent decades have seen an influx of Mexicans, Cambodians, Chinese and Indian residents, Memphis continues to view every conflict as a racial conflict between black and white.
There are very few integrated neighborhoods in Memphis. The ghettos in North Memphis and South Memphis are solidly black. Whites gravitate to the gated communities in East Memphis. The city itself is majority black, while just beyond the city limits, whites are the overwhelming majority, the result of decades of "white flight" to the suburbs.
Two generations after school desegregation ended, Memphis city schools are more segregated than ever, with some schools reporting nearly 100% minority students. Outside the city limits, Shelby County operates a separate school system that is majority white.
Memphis churches are even more racially divided than its schools or neighborhoods.
Other cities have moved beyond the divisiveness of the Jim Crow South. Why is Memphis a notable exception?
Politics is certainly one of the main reasons. For nearly 40 years now, black politicians have worked to maintain the divide between blacks and whites in order to hold political power on the local level. The Ford family built a political dynasty by playing to the resentment of black residents who once were barred from many aspects of life. The scion of the Ford dynasty portrayed whites as devils in order to maintain his congressional seat. Memphis mayor Willie Herenton repeatedly stoked the fires of racial hatred in order to win five terms as the city's first black mayor. Herenton would portray his critics as racists and Uncle Toms while enriching himself with real estate deals and ignoring the needs of the black poor.
When law enforcement caught a number of black officials soliciting and receiving bribes, these thieves attempted to convince the public they were singled out because of race by racist prosecutors. The county commission is similarly divided - with black Democrats holding seats within the city limits and white Republicans controlling the suburban bloc.
But perhaps the worst offender in creating racial tension may be the daily newspaper, The Commercial Appeal. Hardly a week goes by where the newspaper hasn't published a story guaranteed to heighten racial tensions. Today's newspaper is a prime example. In one front page story, the CA informs readers that black men still make significantly less money than white men. Is this really news? In the same edition, a letter to the editor criticizes an earlier article that suggested that the Civil War was fought to end slavery. The letter received more than 170 responses online. One hundred and fifty years later, Memphians want to refight what's called the War of Northern Aggression.
For years, a racist named Mike Fleming had a daily talk show which he used to fuel racial tensions in order to attract ratings. Fleming is forgotten now. He's disappeared except for an occasional television appearance as a so-called "political expert." But the daily newspaper that once employed Fleming has taken up his cause, continuing to stir racial tensions in Memphis at every opportunity. I hope I am far away when those tensions once more come to a boil.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Remington College: A Warning for Students
It's amazing to me that, of all the millions of possible ads that could have posted alongside my scribbling, I keep getting ads for Remington College. I won't repeat all my previous remarks about this scam college, but I would advise readers to scroll back to my Nov. 18 blog on Remington before they consider enrolling at this institution.
Here, in brief, are a few reasons NOT to attend Remington College:
1> Your diploma, if you ever receive one, is basically worthless.
2> Credits you receive while at Remington will not tranfer anywhere. After two years of hard work, you'll still be a freshman.
3> You will be taught by unqualified instructors, including graduates of Remington College.
4> You will have thousands in student loan debt but won't be able to find a job to pay them off.
Need more reasons? Scroll back to last month's warning.
Here, in brief, are a few reasons NOT to attend Remington College:
1> Your diploma, if you ever receive one, is basically worthless.
2> Credits you receive while at Remington will not tranfer anywhere. After two years of hard work, you'll still be a freshman.
3> You will be taught by unqualified instructors, including graduates of Remington College.
4> You will have thousands in student loan debt but won't be able to find a job to pay them off.
Need more reasons? Scroll back to last month's warning.
Bill Mazeroski broke my heart
Last night, I spent three hours watching a 50-year-old baseball game even though I knew how it would end. I watched as if it were being played live because, even though it was a game I'll never forget, it was a game I'd never seen before except for the final pitch.
On October 13, 1960, I was in the third grade at Saint Joan of Arc School in Jackson Heights, New York. I was in Sister Saint Catherine's class. Sister Saint Catherine was tough. She thought our education was somehow more important than the seventh game of the World Series. While kids in other classes were listening to Mel Allen broadcast the game, we were listening to Sister Saint Catherine explain the suffering of the martyred missionaries who'd come to America to win souls for Jesus.
We didn't have televisions in the classrooms at Saint Joan's. Some kids would sneak in a transistor radio to listen to the World Series back before baseball's biggest games were played in the dark. Frankie Giannone brought his Japanese pocket radio to class and he kept us all informed of the score while we pretended to be paying attention to Sister St. Catherine.
We'd only begun the afternoon lesson when Frankie informed us that the Pirates had taken a 2-0 lead in the first inning on a home run by Rocky Nelson. The news didn't bother us. It was only the first inning. There would be plenty of time for a Yankee comeback, we thought.
Our early optimism faded somewhat in the next inning when Giannone announced that the Bucs had scored another two runs as starting pitcher Bob Turley was removed for Bill Stafford. The young Stafford quickly gave way to little Bobby Shantz, a 5'6" righty who would silence the Pirate bats for much of the afternoon.
Sitting in the back of the classroom with a tiny earpiece hidden from Sister Saint Catherine, Frankie kept us informed of the game's big plays. When Moose Skowron led off the Yankees fifth with a home run, we all knew something good had happened even before Frankie could relay the news. The shouts coming from the other classrooms told us something good had happened. Skowron's solo homer closed the gap to 4-1 and we knew the Yankees would come back.
It was in the sixth inning, as Sister was drilling us on the multiplication tables, that the Yankees staged an heroic comeback. Second baseman Bobby Richardson began the comeback with a single. Shortstop Tony Kubek followed with a walk to bring up the mighty Roger Maris. The following season, Maris would erase Babe Ruth's record 60-home run season, but on this day in Pittsburgh, he lofted a lazy pop-up to third.
With one out, Mickey Mantle revived the Yankees' hopes with a single to right, scoring Richardson with New York's second run. With runners on the corners, Yogi Berra ripped a three-run homer to right field to give the Yanks a 5-4 lead. Cheers erupted throughout the school, except in Sister Saint Catherine's classroom.
Little Bobby Shantz continued to frustrate the Pirate hitters through the sixth inning. In the seventh, Shantz began to tire and the Bucs began to mount a rally before Shantz got Bill Mazeroski to hit into an inning-ending double play.
By the time the Yanks came up in the eighth, the school day was nearly over. As some of the boys were erasing the blackboard, the Yanks added two more runs on a walk to Berra, singles from Skowron and catcher Johnny Blanchard and a run-scoring double by Tony Kubek. The Pirates trailed 7-4 as they came to bat in the eighth.
As always, Sister Saint Catherine led her students in prayer as we waited for the school bell to ring dismissal. During the Hail Marys, the Pirates rallied.
Pinch hitter Gino Cimolli opened the eighth with a single. Next, Bob Virdon lined a hard shot to short. What should have been a double play ball took a bad hop at the last second and struck Kubek in the throat. Kubek had to leave the game and was replaced by Joe DeMaestri.
The next Pirate hitter, shortstop Dick Groat, singled to left to score Cimolli. Casey Stengel came out and replaced Shantz with Jim Coates. The Old Professer had Whitey Ford, the greatest World Series pitcher in history, warming up in the bullpen. But Ford had pitched a complete game shutout the day before, so Stengel went with Coates.
Coates was able to get Rocky Nelson to fly out to right for the second out. Clementa was coming up to bat as we gathered up our books to march out of school. Clemente hit a soft grounder to first that Skowron fielded, but Coates was slow getting over to cover the bag and Clemente beat out a single to drive in a run and keep the inning alive.
As we were walking down the stairs, Frankie removed the earphone so we could all hear the game. Just as he did, Hal Smith launched a Coates pitch into the stands for a three-run home run. The Pirates took an 8-7 lead, prompting one of our classmates to utter a word seldom heard in the hallowed halls of Saint Joan's.
Sister heard the offensive word as she was leading the class down the stairs. There in the stairwell, she brought our march to freedom to an immediate halt. We would leave, she told us, when the offender stepped forward to receive his just punishment. The seconds went by like hours as Sister stood down her terrified charges.
Stengel replaced Coates with Ralph Terry, who got the last out in the eighth. The standoff continued as the Yanks came to bat in the ninth, needing two runs to tie. Frankie hid the radio in his jacket pocket and tried to hear the play-by-play as Sister Saint Catherine lectured the class on the evils of curse words.
Finally, as Richardson opened with another single, Tommy Kern stepped up to take the fall. Tommy was always a stand-up guy, but never more than that late afternoon. Tommy was sent back to the classroom while the rest of us resumed our march up 82nd Street where we would be set free.
As we walked up the block, Dale Long hit a pinch hit single. Maris again popped out and Mantle followed with an RBI single. Yogi Berra hit a line shot to first that allowed the tying run to score as Mantle dove to avoid a tag that would have ended the game.
Sister Saint Catherine set us free as the top of the ninth came to an end. It was tied 9-9 in the ninth with the Pirates coming to bat.
It was at the corner of 82nd Street and 35th Ave. that I had to make a choice. I could stand with Frankie at the bus stop and listen to his pocket radio, or I could run to find the nearest TV set to see the end of the game.
I decided to make a run for it. I could have run the four blocks to my home, but the game could be over by the time I made it up to our third floor apartment. I decided instead to run down 82nd. Street to 37th Ave. I knew that Davega's appliance store on 81st Street would have the game on a set in the store window. I raced down 82nd Street, crowded with school kids and their mothers, shoppers and people coming and going to work.
I reached Davega's window just in time to see Ralph Terry's second pitch to Mazeroski. The second baseman swung, and lifted a high fly ball to left field. I watched in horror as Yogi Berra turned his back to home plate and watched as the ball cleared the fence. In that moment, it was over. The Pirates had won the World Series. I stood a moment frozen, unable to move, as the Pirates and their fans mobbed Mazeroski at home plate.
In that moment, my eight-year-old heart was broken. Summer had ended and with one swing of the bat, Bill Mazeroski had brought winter to New York City.
Fifty years later, I have not forgotten that moment, that home run that changed my eight-year-old world. But until last night, I'd never had the chance to see that game in its entirety.
On October 13, 1960, I was in the third grade at Saint Joan of Arc School in Jackson Heights, New York. I was in Sister Saint Catherine's class. Sister Saint Catherine was tough. She thought our education was somehow more important than the seventh game of the World Series. While kids in other classes were listening to Mel Allen broadcast the game, we were listening to Sister Saint Catherine explain the suffering of the martyred missionaries who'd come to America to win souls for Jesus.
We didn't have televisions in the classrooms at Saint Joan's. Some kids would sneak in a transistor radio to listen to the World Series back before baseball's biggest games were played in the dark. Frankie Giannone brought his Japanese pocket radio to class and he kept us all informed of the score while we pretended to be paying attention to Sister St. Catherine.
We'd only begun the afternoon lesson when Frankie informed us that the Pirates had taken a 2-0 lead in the first inning on a home run by Rocky Nelson. The news didn't bother us. It was only the first inning. There would be plenty of time for a Yankee comeback, we thought.
Our early optimism faded somewhat in the next inning when Giannone announced that the Bucs had scored another two runs as starting pitcher Bob Turley was removed for Bill Stafford. The young Stafford quickly gave way to little Bobby Shantz, a 5'6" righty who would silence the Pirate bats for much of the afternoon.
Sitting in the back of the classroom with a tiny earpiece hidden from Sister Saint Catherine, Frankie kept us informed of the game's big plays. When Moose Skowron led off the Yankees fifth with a home run, we all knew something good had happened even before Frankie could relay the news. The shouts coming from the other classrooms told us something good had happened. Skowron's solo homer closed the gap to 4-1 and we knew the Yankees would come back.
It was in the sixth inning, as Sister was drilling us on the multiplication tables, that the Yankees staged an heroic comeback. Second baseman Bobby Richardson began the comeback with a single. Shortstop Tony Kubek followed with a walk to bring up the mighty Roger Maris. The following season, Maris would erase Babe Ruth's record 60-home run season, but on this day in Pittsburgh, he lofted a lazy pop-up to third.
With one out, Mickey Mantle revived the Yankees' hopes with a single to right, scoring Richardson with New York's second run. With runners on the corners, Yogi Berra ripped a three-run homer to right field to give the Yanks a 5-4 lead. Cheers erupted throughout the school, except in Sister Saint Catherine's classroom.
Little Bobby Shantz continued to frustrate the Pirate hitters through the sixth inning. In the seventh, Shantz began to tire and the Bucs began to mount a rally before Shantz got Bill Mazeroski to hit into an inning-ending double play.
By the time the Yanks came up in the eighth, the school day was nearly over. As some of the boys were erasing the blackboard, the Yanks added two more runs on a walk to Berra, singles from Skowron and catcher Johnny Blanchard and a run-scoring double by Tony Kubek. The Pirates trailed 7-4 as they came to bat in the eighth.
As always, Sister Saint Catherine led her students in prayer as we waited for the school bell to ring dismissal. During the Hail Marys, the Pirates rallied.
Pinch hitter Gino Cimolli opened the eighth with a single. Next, Bob Virdon lined a hard shot to short. What should have been a double play ball took a bad hop at the last second and struck Kubek in the throat. Kubek had to leave the game and was replaced by Joe DeMaestri.
The next Pirate hitter, shortstop Dick Groat, singled to left to score Cimolli. Casey Stengel came out and replaced Shantz with Jim Coates. The Old Professer had Whitey Ford, the greatest World Series pitcher in history, warming up in the bullpen. But Ford had pitched a complete game shutout the day before, so Stengel went with Coates.
Coates was able to get Rocky Nelson to fly out to right for the second out. Clementa was coming up to bat as we gathered up our books to march out of school. Clemente hit a soft grounder to first that Skowron fielded, but Coates was slow getting over to cover the bag and Clemente beat out a single to drive in a run and keep the inning alive.
As we were walking down the stairs, Frankie removed the earphone so we could all hear the game. Just as he did, Hal Smith launched a Coates pitch into the stands for a three-run home run. The Pirates took an 8-7 lead, prompting one of our classmates to utter a word seldom heard in the hallowed halls of Saint Joan's.
Sister heard the offensive word as she was leading the class down the stairs. There in the stairwell, she brought our march to freedom to an immediate halt. We would leave, she told us, when the offender stepped forward to receive his just punishment. The seconds went by like hours as Sister stood down her terrified charges.
Stengel replaced Coates with Ralph Terry, who got the last out in the eighth. The standoff continued as the Yanks came to bat in the ninth, needing two runs to tie. Frankie hid the radio in his jacket pocket and tried to hear the play-by-play as Sister Saint Catherine lectured the class on the evils of curse words.
Finally, as Richardson opened with another single, Tommy Kern stepped up to take the fall. Tommy was always a stand-up guy, but never more than that late afternoon. Tommy was sent back to the classroom while the rest of us resumed our march up 82nd Street where we would be set free.
As we walked up the block, Dale Long hit a pinch hit single. Maris again popped out and Mantle followed with an RBI single. Yogi Berra hit a line shot to first that allowed the tying run to score as Mantle dove to avoid a tag that would have ended the game.
Sister Saint Catherine set us free as the top of the ninth came to an end. It was tied 9-9 in the ninth with the Pirates coming to bat.
It was at the corner of 82nd Street and 35th Ave. that I had to make a choice. I could stand with Frankie at the bus stop and listen to his pocket radio, or I could run to find the nearest TV set to see the end of the game.
I decided to make a run for it. I could have run the four blocks to my home, but the game could be over by the time I made it up to our third floor apartment. I decided instead to run down 82nd. Street to 37th Ave. I knew that Davega's appliance store on 81st Street would have the game on a set in the store window. I raced down 82nd Street, crowded with school kids and their mothers, shoppers and people coming and going to work.
I reached Davega's window just in time to see Ralph Terry's second pitch to Mazeroski. The second baseman swung, and lifted a high fly ball to left field. I watched in horror as Yogi Berra turned his back to home plate and watched as the ball cleared the fence. In that moment, it was over. The Pirates had won the World Series. I stood a moment frozen, unable to move, as the Pirates and their fans mobbed Mazeroski at home plate.
In that moment, my eight-year-old heart was broken. Summer had ended and with one swing of the bat, Bill Mazeroski had brought winter to New York City.
Fifty years later, I have not forgotten that moment, that home run that changed my eight-year-old world. But until last night, I'd never had the chance to see that game in its entirety.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Poor Cannon Smith
Now those are three words that are seldom used together, but today I have to feel some sympathy for the son of the richest man in Memphis.
Cannon Smith is a student at the University of Memphis. He is a member of the Tiger football team and for a time was the starting quarterback. The son of Fed Ex founder Fred Smith would have been a big man on most any college campus, but at the University of Memphis, Daddy's company's name is over the school's shiny new building.
Apparently Cannon Smith went out with friends last night, got drunk, and landed in jail. College students get drunk and jailed every day. The overwhelming majority of these arrests never make the headlines. But if your name is Cannon Smith, there will be a dozen reporters and cameras waiting for you when you make bail. When this kid makes his walk of shame for the 5 pm news, he may wish he'd stayed safely tucked away in a cell.
On some level, I can justify the news media for reporting the arrest. But I really can't understand the breathless way Memphis media will jump on so many minor stories. If Cannon Smith was a pilot for Fed Ex, this would be a legitimate news story. But poor Cannon Smith isn't a pilot. He's the second-string quarterback on a very bad college football team. By this time tomorrow, thousands of people who had never heard of Cannon Smith will know that he was arrested.
Cannon Smith is a college kid and a jock. College kids and jocks tend to get drunk and obnoxious at times. This isn't news. If the media is going to report minor crimes such as public drunkeness, are there any minor violations that do not merit media attention?
Cannon Smith is a student at the University of Memphis. He is a member of the Tiger football team and for a time was the starting quarterback. The son of Fed Ex founder Fred Smith would have been a big man on most any college campus, but at the University of Memphis, Daddy's company's name is over the school's shiny new building.
Apparently Cannon Smith went out with friends last night, got drunk, and landed in jail. College students get drunk and jailed every day. The overwhelming majority of these arrests never make the headlines. But if your name is Cannon Smith, there will be a dozen reporters and cameras waiting for you when you make bail. When this kid makes his walk of shame for the 5 pm news, he may wish he'd stayed safely tucked away in a cell.
On some level, I can justify the news media for reporting the arrest. But I really can't understand the breathless way Memphis media will jump on so many minor stories. If Cannon Smith was a pilot for Fed Ex, this would be a legitimate news story. But poor Cannon Smith isn't a pilot. He's the second-string quarterback on a very bad college football team. By this time tomorrow, thousands of people who had never heard of Cannon Smith will know that he was arrested.
Cannon Smith is a college kid and a jock. College kids and jocks tend to get drunk and obnoxious at times. This isn't news. If the media is going to report minor crimes such as public drunkeness, are there any minor violations that do not merit media attention?
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Crime & Punishment
Mark Madoff, the 46-year-old sone of Ponzi swindler Bernie Madoff, hung himself in his Manhattan apartment yesterday. The son hung himself from a dog leash wrapped around a beam in the apartment's living room while his two-year-old son slept in another room.
The son of the swindler killed himself on the second anniversary of his father's arrest for defrauding clients of millions of dollars. Bernie Madoff was arrested after Mark and his brother went to authorities with information regarding his father's Ponzi scheme.
Bernie Madoff ruined many wealthy families who entrusted their fortune to his care. Many of his former clients lost their entire fortune in the investment banker's scheme and several former clients killed themselves in the days after the Ponzi scheme was revealed. The father's scheme even took advantage of long-time friends.
Bernie Madoff was quickly tried and convicted of massive fraud and will likely spend his remaining days locked in a federal prison in North Carolina.
But today, with the death of his son, Bernie Madoff is finaly paying the price for his crime. He will sit in his prison cell knowing that his actions led to the death of his own son. In this case, the punishment fits the crime.
I was visiting Palm Beach in the days just after Madoff's arrest, when word of the lost millions started to come out. The fear in that wealthy community was palpable. Many of Madoff's biggest clients lived in the area, behind gated walls. But it was soon very clear that many of these wealthy families were facing ruin after trusting Madoff with their fortunes.
Although there were certainly tragic stories of ruined lives, I have trouble sympathizing with the victims of Madoff's scheme. After all, all such schemes depend upon the greed of the victims in order to succeed. Madoff was able to steal millions from wealthy investors by promising far greater returns that they could receive from other investments, returns that should have seemed impossible to wealthy, sophisticated investors.
Lawyers and accountants will spend decades attempting to record a small fraction of the funds Madoff abscounded. The court fights will go on long after Bernie Madoff is dead and gone.
The courts were able to seize much of what remained of Madoff's ill-gotten fortune. They auctioned off his property, his jewels and yacht in order to reimburse his victims. They put his in shackles and put him behind bars for the rest of his life. But the death of his own son is probably the worst punishment the swindler could have received, a penalty far beyond the power of the courts to impose. In the little time Bernie Madoff has left on earth, he will every day have to face his role in the destruction of his own son. I can't think of a more powerful punishment.
The son of the swindler killed himself on the second anniversary of his father's arrest for defrauding clients of millions of dollars. Bernie Madoff was arrested after Mark and his brother went to authorities with information regarding his father's Ponzi scheme.
Bernie Madoff ruined many wealthy families who entrusted their fortune to his care. Many of his former clients lost their entire fortune in the investment banker's scheme and several former clients killed themselves in the days after the Ponzi scheme was revealed. The father's scheme even took advantage of long-time friends.
Bernie Madoff was quickly tried and convicted of massive fraud and will likely spend his remaining days locked in a federal prison in North Carolina.
But today, with the death of his son, Bernie Madoff is finaly paying the price for his crime. He will sit in his prison cell knowing that his actions led to the death of his own son. In this case, the punishment fits the crime.
I was visiting Palm Beach in the days just after Madoff's arrest, when word of the lost millions started to come out. The fear in that wealthy community was palpable. Many of Madoff's biggest clients lived in the area, behind gated walls. But it was soon very clear that many of these wealthy families were facing ruin after trusting Madoff with their fortunes.
Although there were certainly tragic stories of ruined lives, I have trouble sympathizing with the victims of Madoff's scheme. After all, all such schemes depend upon the greed of the victims in order to succeed. Madoff was able to steal millions from wealthy investors by promising far greater returns that they could receive from other investments, returns that should have seemed impossible to wealthy, sophisticated investors.
Lawyers and accountants will spend decades attempting to record a small fraction of the funds Madoff abscounded. The court fights will go on long after Bernie Madoff is dead and gone.
The courts were able to seize much of what remained of Madoff's ill-gotten fortune. They auctioned off his property, his jewels and yacht in order to reimburse his victims. They put his in shackles and put him behind bars for the rest of his life. But the death of his own son is probably the worst punishment the swindler could have received, a penalty far beyond the power of the courts to impose. In the little time Bernie Madoff has left on earth, he will every day have to face his role in the destruction of his own son. I can't think of a more powerful punishment.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
A Recession Perspective
Two years into the great recession and there's no end in sight for millions of Americans. Just weeks before Christmas, two million Americans will lose the unemployment benefits they've relied upon for as long as 99 weeks. They will be joined by millions more in the months ahead.
In Washington, the Congress has decided that the federal government cannot afford to provide additional assistance to millions of unemployed Americans. The same Congress appears ready and eager to approve continuing tax breaks for the nation's wealthiest taxpayers.
The same government that can find billions to bailout Wall Street and General Motors; the one that spends millions a day waging war in Iraq and Afghanistan, can't find any additional money for the unemployed. The very same people who point to the federal deficit and insist we can't afford extending unemployment would have the government borrow additional billions to fund tax breaks for the very wealthiest taxpayers.
Government statistics say the unemployment rate is around ten percent, but such figures don't count discouraged unemployed workers who have given up looking for work. They also don't take into account millions more under-employed workers, people like myself. These folks are working in part-time jobs, sometimes two or three part-time jobs, because they can't find full-time work.
Opponents of extending unemployment benefits only encourage the jobless to remain jobless, rejecting low-wage work in favor of a government check. This is a ridiculous argument. In most states, the unemployment benefit tops out at around $300. While there are certainly a handful of folks who would rather collect a check than work, I don't think most Americans would reject a job with decent wages and benefits in favor of a government check. No one is "living large" on $300 a week.
As a child of the 50s, I grew up hearing about the Great Depression. It was still recent history then and its affects on people who lived through it still lingered. My dad told stories of homeless men who'd show up at his home in Astoria, NY looking to do work in exchange for a meal.
As an adult, I studied that period in our history. I loved "Let Us Now Praise Famous Men" by James Agee and "The Grapes of Wrath." I thought that the 30s would have been an interesting time in which to live. And to this day, I believe that Franklin D. Roosevelt was one of our greatest presidents.
I don't believe that the Great Recession aka the Bush Recession has produced the same results as the crash of 1929. At least not yet, I don't believe that the suffering is nearly as widespread. Watching the Black Friday crowds that jammed our malls here in Memphis, I had to wonder if perhaps the recession ended and I wasn't notified. In a time when many of their neighbors are struggling just to keep their homes and feed their families, thousands of shoppers filled the parking lot as early as 5 am. A drive down to Tunica will find the casino parking lots filled every weekend. While the recession has brought misery to millions, there are millions more who have survived unscathed.
I suppose that is why extending unemployment benefits is proving to be a tough sell in Washington. The politicians react to their most vocal constituents and apparently it is the wealthy who are making the most noise. It is a truly sad commentary on this country.
I think it's time for the middle class to stand up and make their voices heard. It is time to send notice to Washington that class warfare as waged by conservative Republicans will only further divide the nation at a time when we need to come together. Perhaps 2011 is the year when the working class takes to its feet and hits the street to demand affordable health care, unemployment benefits for the jobless and better schools for our children. Demand an end to war in Iraq and Afghanistan and punishment for the thieves on Wall Street who plundered the treasury and nearly destroyed the American economy.
Perhaps there still aren't enough Americans suffering. Perhaps things will have to become much worse before the middle class is stirred to stand up against an unjust government controlled by corporate titans and their lobbyists. If and when the working people of this country decide to take back their country, there will be blood on the streets in Washington and lower Manhattan.
In Washington, the Congress has decided that the federal government cannot afford to provide additional assistance to millions of unemployed Americans. The same Congress appears ready and eager to approve continuing tax breaks for the nation's wealthiest taxpayers.
The same government that can find billions to bailout Wall Street and General Motors; the one that spends millions a day waging war in Iraq and Afghanistan, can't find any additional money for the unemployed. The very same people who point to the federal deficit and insist we can't afford extending unemployment would have the government borrow additional billions to fund tax breaks for the very wealthiest taxpayers.
Government statistics say the unemployment rate is around ten percent, but such figures don't count discouraged unemployed workers who have given up looking for work. They also don't take into account millions more under-employed workers, people like myself. These folks are working in part-time jobs, sometimes two or three part-time jobs, because they can't find full-time work.
Opponents of extending unemployment benefits only encourage the jobless to remain jobless, rejecting low-wage work in favor of a government check. This is a ridiculous argument. In most states, the unemployment benefit tops out at around $300. While there are certainly a handful of folks who would rather collect a check than work, I don't think most Americans would reject a job with decent wages and benefits in favor of a government check. No one is "living large" on $300 a week.
As a child of the 50s, I grew up hearing about the Great Depression. It was still recent history then and its affects on people who lived through it still lingered. My dad told stories of homeless men who'd show up at his home in Astoria, NY looking to do work in exchange for a meal.
As an adult, I studied that period in our history. I loved "Let Us Now Praise Famous Men" by James Agee and "The Grapes of Wrath." I thought that the 30s would have been an interesting time in which to live. And to this day, I believe that Franklin D. Roosevelt was one of our greatest presidents.
I don't believe that the Great Recession aka the Bush Recession has produced the same results as the crash of 1929. At least not yet, I don't believe that the suffering is nearly as widespread. Watching the Black Friday crowds that jammed our malls here in Memphis, I had to wonder if perhaps the recession ended and I wasn't notified. In a time when many of their neighbors are struggling just to keep their homes and feed their families, thousands of shoppers filled the parking lot as early as 5 am. A drive down to Tunica will find the casino parking lots filled every weekend. While the recession has brought misery to millions, there are millions more who have survived unscathed.
I suppose that is why extending unemployment benefits is proving to be a tough sell in Washington. The politicians react to their most vocal constituents and apparently it is the wealthy who are making the most noise. It is a truly sad commentary on this country.
I think it's time for the middle class to stand up and make their voices heard. It is time to send notice to Washington that class warfare as waged by conservative Republicans will only further divide the nation at a time when we need to come together. Perhaps 2011 is the year when the working class takes to its feet and hits the street to demand affordable health care, unemployment benefits for the jobless and better schools for our children. Demand an end to war in Iraq and Afghanistan and punishment for the thieves on Wall Street who plundered the treasury and nearly destroyed the American economy.
Perhaps there still aren't enough Americans suffering. Perhaps things will have to become much worse before the middle class is stirred to stand up against an unjust government controlled by corporate titans and their lobbyists. If and when the working people of this country decide to take back their country, there will be blood on the streets in Washington and lower Manhattan.
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