|
“1998 A Solid Year For New Products.”
Quirk’s Marketing Research Review June 1999 Page 44
The stock market may have had its ups and downs
in 1998, but things were solid on the new product front. For the second
year in a row, packaged goods firms pumped out more than 25, 000 new food,
beverage, health & beauty aids, household and pet products, according to
Naples, N.Y. -based Marketing Intelligence Service, Ltd., a new product
reporting firm. While 1998’s count didn’t eclipse 1997’s record, there was
no shortage of new products to choose from on store shelves
Topping, Dick. "Innovation is the Growth
Engine for Growth." Appliance Engineer July 1999, Page 67
What do Amazon.com, Nokia, Ritz Carlton, and
Daimler-Chrylser have in common? Or how about Coke, Dell, and Hasbro? If
you said innovation, you're right. These companies represent a wide range
of industries and lines of business, but they are each industry leaders in
the battle for market share and earnings. The tie that binds them is their
ability to redefine their business models and processes to create
breakthroughs. That's innovation. And, it leads to growth.
So where does the appliance industry place in
the race for innovation? Unfortunately, it doesn't, too well. Most OEMs
are still locked in a struggle to compete on price with strategies focused
on cost-reduction and quality improvement, rather than innovation. But the
shortcomings of cost-reduction have begun to surface -- companies can't cut
their way to growth. Wall Street recognizes the difference between
incremental improvements from cost-cutting and the long-term promise of
increased earnings from innovation. That recognition shows up in the form
of premiums awarded in the market value of noted innovators.
One appliance producer seems committed to
change, however. Boasting a 10-percent hike in share price and a 15-percent
increase in appliance sales -- an all-time high for the company --- Maytag
Corporation is growing its shareholder value through an innovation
strategy. Known as Intelligent Innovation, Maytag's strategy connects its
new technologies and new thinking to the whole idea of appliance design.
Rather than competing on cost, Maytag actually charges more for its products
because Intelligent Innovation improves the total product: service,
functionality, interface, design, etc., and results in superior product
performance. Intelligent Innovation is Maytag's game plan for success.
It's how the company interacts with consumers, reinforces the strength of
its premium brands, increases sales volume in upper price segments, and
enhances profit margins. The share price indicates that the return on
Maytag's investment is paying off.
In a recent global survey on innovation, 85
percent of senior executes surveyed cited innovation as one of the top five
critical success factors to growth. Yet only 15 percent thought they did an
adequate job of managing innovation. Simply choosing and stating a strategy
does not ensure that it will take hold. Innovation as a strategy is hard to
achieve. Barriers exist on both the technology and market/customer
intelligence fronts. In technology-driven industries like appliances, there
is often a technology-push mentality or a poor understanding of the link
between technologies, products, and markets. There is also the frequent
misconception that innovation is exclusively the responsibility of R&D.
Maytag's got it right. Innovation is about everything a company does:
products, processes, services, and performance, and everyone in the
organization plays a part.
Although product innovations can rejuvenate a
company, one of the more difficult tasks is changing an organization's
mindset and culture -- linking operational excellence and product innovation
through people. To develop and operate effective innovation processes such
as idea generation and screening, information/intelligence gathering, and
planning, an organization is challenged to work across functional and often
business boundaries. To overcome this obstacle, an organization needs to
make a conscious decision to not only change the overall corporation's
vision and strategy, but also change the mindset and culture of the
organization. The culture change at Maytag occurred by actually
integrating the vision and strategy with the business plans. Maytag
created an environment where people thought, "I'm playing in the innovation
arena, but I'm also contributing because I'm making my operations better."
Innovation is also hard to achieve because it
is easily confused with a short-term, one-time breakthrough, a creative line
extension, or a new technology. However, companies who live innovation know
that it can actually be measured and managed in a continuous, long-term
process. Some characteristics to monitor include rapid learning, risk
taking, recognition and rewards, consumer and customer insights, elevated
R&D importance, innovation networks, and manufacturing and operations
processes improvements.
As an organization that now shares
technologies, ideas, and people, it is not afraid to try new ideas and
challenge the status quo. Maytag's COO, Lloyd Ward said, "We're developing
a new model where innovation is institutionalized in the culture to yield a
consistent and powerful driver of growth and long-term competitive
advantage."
Dana Ullman, Time Bandits California
Labor saving devices may not be saving us that
much time, according to a study reported in American Demographics
(Jan. 1997). Women with microwave ovens for instance, spent just four
minutes less per day preparing food than women without microwaves. And
women with washing machines actually spent more time doing laundry than
those without. No word on how much time men were saving by ignoring these
chores completely.
“One Microwave is no Longer Enough for Many
Consumers.” Quirk’s Marketing Research Review, December 1998, Page
56
American consumers are declaring that one
microwave is not enough, according to Decision Analyst, Inc., an Arlington,
Texas, marketing research firm. In the American Appliance Survey of 6,431
households, Decision Analyst discovered that one out of every 10 consumers
has purchased a second, and in some cases, a third microwave oven.
Wright, Steven. The Wisdom of Steven
Wright. Downloaded from his web site.
I just bought a microwave fireplace... You can
spend an evening in front of it in only eight minutes...
Survey Monitor. Quirk’s Marketing
Research Review November 1998 Page 54
No time for breakfast. Breakfast is said to be
the most important meal of the day, but it is the meal most often skipped by
Americans (55 percent). It’s also the easiest meal toprepare and the
shortest one to eat: 38 percent of respondents to a TeleNation poll
conducted for BSMG Worldwide said they spend five to 10 minutes eating
breakfast.
Architecture Magazine December,
1999
Percentage of Americans who order take-out food
at least once a day: 21
Percentage of Americans who order take-out food
every other day 26
Greg Critser, Fat Land. New York:
Houghton Mifflin, 2003. ISBN 0618164723
Page 55
For the leaders of many American congregations,
the challenge of the era was competing with the permissiveness rising in
secular America. That meant “a little bit o’ sugar,” as one pastor
recalls. Along with literalist, moral preaching about things like
homosexuality and abortion would come a new tolerance for “the little
sins.” (Later on, when many of the new leaders had had their own personal
failings televised widely, this doctrine became self-protective as well.)
New seminarians were thus told that “holding the flock together” meant
accentuating similarities. The same thing was taking place within more
liberal circles. At places like fuller Seminary in Pasadena, California,
the student bookstore carried more titles about self-acceptance than it did
about traditional moral failings. (Asked where a book about gluttony or
sloth might be shelved, a visitor was told: “Where else? In self-help.”)
The end result of this reorientation, as Marie Griffith says, was that “the
American church became like therapy. It was suddenly all about love and
tolerance and acceptance, not about individual discipline.’
There is, of course, a societal cost to
religion’s abandonment of the little sins. Religion, like belts or modest
meal portions or argumentative family dinners, is a maker of boundaries.
Religious beliefs generate the development of moral communities, which, in
turn, serve to guide and constrain the action of individuals. As the
sociologist Emile Durkheim observed early in the twentieth century, without
a religion’s “system of interdicts,” a society will flounder. (Toynbee
agreed, albeit in a secular manner, by noting that the disintegration of a
civilization is always marked by a “surrender to a sense of promiscuity.”)
The relevant point here is clear. If, as Durkheim concluded, God and
society “are only one,” can there ever be a little sin, at least where
religion is concerned?
Page 56
By the ‘90s, with such purely theological
considerations, aside, scholars who studied the sociology of religion began
t notice a growing trend: Not only did religion no longer address
overconsumption, it seemed somehow implicated in just the opposite—in aiding
and abetting overeating. In a 1998 study looking at 3500 U.S. adults, the
Purdue university sociologist Kenneth F. Ferraro sought to find out the
answer to two interrelated questions: One, was religion related to body
weight, especially obesity, and two. did religion intensify, mitigate, or
counterbalance the effects of body weight o well-being? to the first, the
answer was qualified: Obesity was highest in states where religious
affiliation was highest, but the specific differences in body weight between
groups were more likely explained by differences in class, ethnicity, and
marital status. Of all the religious groups surveyed, Southern Baptists
were heaviest, followed by Fundamentalist and Pietistic Protestants.
Catholics fell at the middle of the list, while the lowest average body
weight was found among Jews and non-christians. Surveying attitudes within
those groups, Ferraro concluded that obesity was associated with higher
levels of religiosity. If one calculated in the fact that many of these
believers were also of low socioeconomic status, on could almost conclude
that eating and religion had become a unified coping strategy. “Consolation
and comfort from religion and from eating,” Ferraro wrote, “may be a couple
of the few pleasures accessible to populations which are economically and
politically deprived.”
To the second question—did modern religion act
to inhibit gluttony or obesity—the answer was more surprising. It didn’t.
Instead, the church has become a nest of unqualified social acceptance. As
Ferraro wrote” There is no evidence of religion operating as a moral
constraint on obesity.” Instead, Ferraro went on, “higher religious
practice was more common among overweight persons, perhaps reflecting
religion’s emphasis upon tolerating human weakness and its emphasis upon
other forms of deviancy such as alcoholism, smoking and sexual promiscuity.”
Page 57
Ferraro warned that it wasn’t that religion
indirectly promoted higher body weight. Rather, most pastors simply saw
obesity and overeating as too risky a subject. “They feel they would risk
alienating the flock—at least at this point,” say Ferraro. “In that sense
we are in a stage with obesity like we were with smoking in the 1950s and
1960s.”
And so when it came to overeating, gluttony,
and obesity, Christians, like everyone else in America, were in deep, deep
denial. As Jerry Falwell said when he heard about Ferraro’s findings, “I
know gluttony is a bad thing. But I don’t know many gluttons.”
Gilbreth, Frank B. Jr., and Ernestine
Gilbreth Carey. Belles on Their Toes. United States: 1950. ISBN
055325605X, Pages 101-2
Mother planned, on paper, an efficiency-type
kitchenette of the kind used today in a good many apartments. Under her
arrangement, a person could mix a cake, put it in the oven, and do the
dishes, without taking more than a couple of dozen steps. On the strength
of her blueprints, she landed a contract with a New York electric concern.
The fee was one Dad wouldn’t have considered. But it was the first job
Mother had got on her own, and she was proud of it.
Someone in the electric company told the
newspapers about the contract. A woman engineer with eleven children was
considered good copy, and in 1924 the idea of a scientifically planned
kitchen was news. The company arranged a press conference for Mother in New
York. The resulting stories, besides telling of Mother’s plans, managed to
give the impression that our kitchen in Montclair also was a model of
efficiency.
Actually, the exact opposite was true. Our
kitchen, the one Tom used, was a model of inefficiency. Not that there was
a handpump over the sink or a spit to roast fowls on, but it was almost that
bad. Our house had been built when the stress was on spaciousness, and the
original owner had planned the kitchen to accommodate three or four
servants. When Tom baked a cake, or baked what he said was a cake, he had to
walk about half a mile. The distance from the sink, which was at a
back-breaking level, to the old-fashioned gas stove was a good twenty feet.
The food was kept in a pantry twenty feet from the stove and forty from the
sink. And the dishes were in a butler’s pantry, about the same distance
away but in the opposite direction.
The refrigerator was in an alcove by itself.
To get to it, you had to detour around a stand holding the bird cage; around
a table holding Tom’s tools, a plumber’s friend, western story magazines,
and back copies of The Newark Star-Eagle; and usually around Mr.
Chairman, or Fourteen, or both. But on the strength of the write-ups about
the contract, a newsreel man phoned Mother and said he’d like to bring a
crew to Montclair to photograph her in her efficiency kitchen. “I’d love to
have you,” Mother told him, “but you see we haven’t set up the efficiency
kitchen there at the house.”
“I don’t believe that would be exactly
suitable,” Mother gulped.
Campbell, Allison “Meet Lisa Kempston:
homemaker, teacher, wife, mother and efficiency expert” Saint Paul
Pioneer Press, Minn., 06/01/1999
ST. PAUL, Minn. - It’s no summer shower of
activity when Lisa Kempston cooks. It’s a four-day thunderstorm. The
full-time homemaker releases lightning bolts of energy as she bustles about
the kitchen, doubling, tripling and quadrupling recipes to feed her family
of five for an entire year.
By the end of the weekend-long cooking
marathon, a freezer the size of a hot tub will be filled to capacity with
meatballs, enchiladas, lasagna and other family favorites. But for Kempston,
the superhuman effort - even the National Enquirer featured her, referring
to her as a “kitchen magician” - is worthwhile. In the long run, it saves
her time, stress and money….
Luckily, Kempston finds organizing fun. During
her cooking binge, she prepares about 150 family-size entrees and individual
dishes, using 29 recipes - she’s still searching for a magical combination
of 30. Once she decides on the recipes, she collates the grocery list. This
year, she divided the shopping into two trips: perishables and
nonperishables. When she gets home, she tapes up the recipes on her cupboard
doors and stacks the groceries around the kitchen.
Using an assembly-line method, she prepares the
food. A few months after the Big Cook, Kempston shops for bread. Some of her
favorite places are Turtle Bread Company, Breadsmith and Great Harvest. She
tops the loaves with cheese and garlic and freezes them for later. Kempston
is so freezer-fixated that, when the subject of Thai food is brought up, she
says, “That freezes well…”
Even she had to ease into it. When she first
married 10 years ago, she prepared an entire week’s worth of dinners on the
weekend. Then, after Alex was born, she cooked every two months. “I was
getting spoiled - very spoiled,” Kempston says. “I went to four months at
about the time Kate was born.” After becoming comfortable with that
schedule, she decided to stretch it farther. “I went to a year, which is a
little much, but there’s no going back.” That mindset carries over into the
rest of her cooking. At bake sale time, Kempston and the kids make hundreds
of cookies. “I can’t make anything and not triple the recipe,” she says.
“It’s just not efficient.
“’90s-style Dining In: Grocer does the
Cooking.” USA TODAY March 9, 1998, Page 4D
Supermarkets have gone “from being a purveyor
of pantry goods to a purveyor of meals,” says Dave Litwak of Supermarket
Business. Americans are buying.
Between 1986 and 1996, service deli sales
jumped 126% to $21.1 billion, according to Supermarket Business studies.
From October 1996 to October 1997 alone, sales of refrigerated entrees
jumped 34% according to market research firm Information Resources Inc.
None of this comes cheap. Precooked green beans pre-tossed in a pre-made
balsamic vinaigrette can cost 10 to 15 times more than the same amount of
raw beans.
Bodley John. H. Anthropology And
Contemporary Human Problems. California: 1983. ISBN 0874846714,
Page 118
The food systems of industrial nations
represent an enormous advance in the evolutionary progress and a
proportionate loss in long-run adaptive success.
The primary distinguishing feature of these
systems is their fossil fuel energy subsidy, which permits very high crop
yields for very low inputs of human energy. Other critical aspects are the
extreme complexity of the production-consumption chain, and the tendency to
increase the per capita energy and resource cost of food consumption through
expanded dependence on synthetic and highly processed foods and
inefficiently produced animal protein.
These systems are not only far more costly in
terms of per capita demands for energy and resources, but they are
unquestionably more frail than tribal systems, they demand much more
intensive ecosystem management, and they have greater potential for
environmental deterioration. Perhaps, most critically, they can clearly not
be sustained at present rates of increase or even at present levels unless
they are radically restructured. It is also very doubtful that, if such
systems diffuse, they could be supported at all on a global basis, given
present population levels.
These are critical issues because the present
strategy for solving the world food crisis not only ignores the fact that
many of the problems are inherent features of state-level cultures based on
intensive food production systems, but also makes the dangerous assumption
that industrial food systems will feed the world if only they can be
established everywhere.
William R. Greer, “In The ‘Lite’ Decade,
Less Has Become More” New York Times, August 13, 1986, Page A1
Sociologists say that “lite,” which started as
a marketing term used to denote dietetic products, has become a metaphor for
what Americans are seeking in disparate parts of their lives. In their
relationships, for example, they have turned away from soul-searching and
stress of emotional commitment; at the movies, they would rather watch an
invincible hero, like Rambo or the Karate Kid, who never lets the audience
down.
The Light Decade is a time when men and women
can “fall in love without paying the price,” as a Honda Civic advertisement
promises. They can undergo psychoanalysis in one sitting, because today’s
psychotherapy skips the formative years, namely childhood. For health care,
busy executives can turn to a so-called Doc in a Box, a storefront medical
clinic with extended hours, higher prices and no appointment, no referral—no
medical history necessary.
There is light culture (books on tape), light
shopping (buying clothes by video), light politics (candidates who run on
image, not issues), light responsibility (the lowest voter participation
rates of any democracy) and light music (Lite FM, where the heavy bass line
has been removed so that the sound does not jar or stir listeners). And, of
course, there is light food, with which people can cut calories without
changing their diets by using products like Jell-O Light, Cornitos Light
Corn Chips, Heinz Lite Ketchup; and Glace Lite, which, its manufacturer,
Sweet Victory, says “gives you all the rich, delicious pleasures of
300-calorie premium ice cream” at 100 calories a scoop.
Food, notably dietetic food, is where the Light
Decade started. It is also the clearest example of how the philosophy has
caught on. “Lite,” or “light,” foods are now “one of the fastest growing
segments of the American food industry,” according to a recent Federal Food
and Drug administration report.
Before the 16th century, the word
“lite” meant “little, not much, few” in English and was pronounced
differently from “light,” according to Traugott Lawler, a medievalist at
Yale University. But the word fell out of use.
Today’s “lite” is used to indicate fewer
calories or less salt, and essentially refers to weight in the same way
that ight is a reference to weight, Mr. Lawler said. The effect of light
foods on weight loss has been, well, light.
“We know that the number of people who are
obese has increased in the past 10 years,” said Thomas A Wadden, a
psychologist at the Obesity Research Group of the University of
Pennsylvania. “And the percentage of children who are obese is increasing.”
Bernard Phillips, a sociologist at Boston
University, calls the Light Decade a “smorgasbord” approach to life, where
people convince themselves that they can have the best of all worlds,
immediately, by having a lightened version of
everything.
“What happens is the light things become a
gloss to fool ourselves into thinking that we are getting what we want,” he
said. “When you go to the supermarket and buy light beer, this is getting
you away from the notion that there are serious problems with your not being
able to lose weight. You don’t face the weight problem. You go for the
quick fix.”
Clinton R. Sanders, a sociologist at the
University of Connecticut who studies popular culture, says the mobility of
American society, both geographically and economically, has helped to bring
about a Light Decade. “When you have one out of four Americans moving
every year, then one’s connection to people and objects become very light,”
he said. “if we know that we are not going to have those friends next
year, then we are not going to define them as being as important as we would
if we were going to have an ongoing relationship with them.”
Dr. Sanders says that geographic mobility has
increased the number of relationships based on daily routines and
necessities, rather than on a shared background or common interests.
“The kinds of relationships we have most are
secondary,” he said. “They are light relationships, instrumental
relationships. I don’t go down to the grocery store to have a conversation
with the checkout girl.”
That same lack of attachment is evident in the
appliances people buy today. Because modern technology has made them
inexpensive, and because Americans generally have a high standard of living,
appliances have become cheaper to replace than to repair. They are what Dr.
Sanders calls “light appliances, built to fall apart.”
Jerry Knight, The Fat Track TRENDLINES
Now We’re a Nation of Lite-Heavyweights
We guzzle $15 billion worth of diet soft drinks
a year. We gobble up $2.4 billion worth of Healthy Choice, Weight Watchers,
Lean Cuisine and the like and choke down another $1.7 billion worth of Ultra
Slim-Fast, appetite suppressants and pseudo-foods. Our role models are
Tommy Lasorda, Jenny Craig, Richard Simmons, Susan Powter and, on-again,
off-again, Oprah.
But still we get fat. The average American put
on eight pounds between 1980 and 1991, and now one in three adults in the
United States is certifiably overweight, the National Center for Health
Statistics reported recently. That’s 2 billion new pounds of avoidable
avoirdupois among us, an extra 1 million tons of tummy that took root during
a decade when the diet business was growing even faster than our waistlines.
Other research by the Calorie Control council,
a trade association for diet food makers, shows that 90 percent of U.S.
adults now routinely consume foods labeled “diet,” “light,” “reduced
calorie,” “low fat” or some such promise.
That’s up from 81 percent last year and 76
percent in 1992, thanks to a steady proliferation of products created to
satisfy the demand for foods with a caloric advantage. Logically, those
industry growth lines ought to be moving in opposite directions from
statistical tape measures of our waistlines. If we’re eating more low-cal
stuff, we shouldn’t be getting fatter.
“Salty Snacks Need a New Name”, The Shopper Report,
February 1988, Page 3, “Expectations of Efficiency”
Today’s consumers want to shop with less time
and hassle. They count on high technology and computer supported services
to smooth out stress producing situations and to support reduced hassle
lifestyles and shopping styles. Computer clicks, beeps, and whirrs have
become sounds of security that signal that things are working.
Automatic teller machines that provide 24 hour
clickety-click access to checking and saving accounts have become routine
and reliable facts of life. Supermarket scanners, where every click means
another successful scan, have become faster and more efficient. The
proportion of scan failures and time consuming price lookups seems to be
diminishing. Thanks to VCR’s, TV shows can be taped for viewing at the
consumers’ instead of the presenters’ convenience.
Thanks to microwaves, hot foods can be speedily
zapped without watching over them to make sure they don’t burn and without
even bothering with a pot.
Given all this speed and efficiency, consumers
are becoming more critical and even arrogant about the sloppy systems and
human factor inefficiencies they find in many retail operations. They are
increasingly shopping at stores that provide more services and fewer
hassles.
“No Free Lunch Is Fast Becoming No Lunch”
Facilities Design & Management, June 1996, Page 12
About 55% of office workers say they engage in
other activities besides eating during their lunch hour, according to the
Steelcase Workplace Index, a semiannual survey that gauges workplace trends
in the United States. And out of that group, nearly 40% say they now use
their lunch hour to catch up in extra work.
Office workers take, on average, only 36
minutes for lunch each day, with 14% not taking any time for lunch,
according to the survey. Office workers in the Northeast and those earning
above $50,000 are most likely to skip lunch altogether (20%).
Mitchell, Tedd, M.D. "HealthSmart."
USA Weekend February 11-13, 2000.
Page 4
CONSIDER THIS: In the
1960s, the typical American diet was about 40% fat; today, 34%. Sounds
good, right? Unfortunately, during that same period, obesity has increased
by about 30%! How can it be that we're eating less fat and getting fatter?
Just look at the calories we consume. In 1978, the average calorie intake
was 1,969 a day; 1990, 2,200 calories a day.
Alfino, Mark., John S. Caputo, and Robin
Wynyard. Critical Essays on Consumer Culture. U.S.A.: 1998.
ISBN 0275958191
Page 182
Our goal is not so much to reconstruct
Baudrillard’s theoretical position as to see how it contributes to the
postmodern attitude toward McDonald’s. The “scandal” of Baudrillard”s
theory is that we have to begin by saying that a trip to McDonald’s is not
about eating. McDonald’s is not selling hamburgers which first satisfy our
hunger and happen also to have various social connotations. Rather, as a
form of consumption, eating at McDonald’s is about consuming (and
reproducing) the message of McDonald”s.
And what is that? Foremost, the patron
experiences a peculiar kind of abundance. Every meal is a “value” meal.
Every meal is a “complete” meal, affordable by almost anyone. Like a
visitor to a third world country, the patron at McDonald’s is supposed to
feel that his or her money (and concomitantly his or her own feeling of
wealth and value) is worth more. Advertising for McDonald’s consistently
presents a fantasy land of play and abundance. Second, as we have already
noted, the McDonald’s slogan implies a deserved reward.
Fumento, Michael. The Fat of the Land:
The Obesity Epidemic and How Overweight Americans Can Help Themselves.
New York: 1997. ISBN 0670870595, Pages 51 and 271
In the last hundred years there has been an
absolute revolution in labor-saving devices. Many of these are wonderful,
none more so probably than the indoor toilet that saves a trudge through
cold and rain to the outhouse. But many do little more than save a bit of
labor.... Individually, labor-saving devices don’t add up to much. But
together they play an important role in the obesity problem....
Many factors of fairly recent development have
led to the obesity epidemic. Food has become so cheap that not only can the
poorest Americans be fat but indeed it appears the poorest Americans are the
fattest. Labor-saving devices continue to proliferate. Television has more
variety than ever and has now been joined by web-surfing as a major
sedentary activity. And with any major introduction of something that
affects our culture, there is a “shakeup” period in which we learn to
adjust. Consider, for example, automobiles. Even though they were much
slower when they started to come into wide use about a century ago, their
per capita accident and death rates were appalling by today’s standards.
But over time we adjusted. Traffic laws were passed, roads were improved,
myriad safety devices appeared. The result is that death rates have
steadily declined and continue to do so. |
|
Stumpf, Bill. The Ice Palace That Melted
Away. New York: 1998. ISBN 0375402217, Pages 17, 35 and 45
Imagine that McDonald’s restaurants, the
world’s largest retailer of hamburgers, were redesigned to honor labor and
production as well as merchandising and speed. What would it look like?
Imagine that they baked their own buns on the spot. How much better it
would smell! Imagine machines making ketchup, mashing tomatoes, and
spouting steam. Or machines grinding meat and pressing it into burgers.
Perhaps the economies of scale necessary for McDonald’s to sell us their
food so cheaply would preclude a bakery in every franchise. But what would
happen if we could witness the activity and energy of the staff making our
meals—in the heart of the restaurant in full view of you and me.
A restaurant I know of treats its customers to
a regular show of chefs and assistants doing a culinary dance behind large
glass dividers and the food issuing from the visible kitchen. They aren’t
afraid to show anything. A giant material muncher could recycle all the
food packaging on the spot and spit out new cups, bags, and trays. We could
give children a sense of production that seemed a part of their lives.
Rarely in America is labor associated with fun....
Every day, they walked to the farmers’ markets,
and on Sunday afternoon they had barbecues at family-oriented taverns. They
always bought fresh bread at ethnic bakeries on the corner, had fresh milk
and produce delivered to their doors, felt safe in their beds, and even had
time to polish what little silverware they owned. Somehow they lived to old
age, raised a large family, all of whom went to college, survived
prohibition, the Depression, two world wars, rationing, gender inequality,
polio, TB, and measles. In short, they were like millions of Americans.
My grandfather never sought permission to live
less hurriedly, less like a consumer, less oblivious to time. He never
sought recognition for doing so. I would sorely like to have a little of
his independence. I often find joy in walking the dog, washing the car,
shopping for fresh vegetables, cooking dinner, or hanging up my clothes—the
details of life. But somehow looming over me is a great, importunate world
where existence and one’s daily routing are measured out in nanoseconds.
Sometimes I feel like just another petty functionary enmeshed in the classic
carrot-and-stick game, trussed in my work harness, blinders in place, ready
to go, eating from a bag tied to my head,
defecating on the street while I work, running
in place on my Nordic Track, apparently willing to work myself to death.
Just Say No to Gadgets and Gizmos, An Easy
Guide to Reclaiming Our Humanity and Simple Ways By Ken Ringle,
Washington Post Staff Writer Sunday, December 29, 2002; Page F01
If you feel that high-tech has turned our
holidays into the direst of wolves, snarling with electronic toys, staring
like digital cameras and rapacious as a DVD burner, Nicols Fox wants us to
know there's a way to transform them into a cuddly puppy.
Next year, just say no to an electronic
Christmas, she says, and you can reclaim our collective humanity. She says
this in her new book, "Against the Machine," which is subtitled "The Hidden
Luddite Tradition in Literature, Art and Individual Lives."
Meeting the challenge, she acknowledges, will
not be easy. We've been mainlining extraneous technology so long we think we
can't open the cat-food can if the electricity's off. We spend 10 minutes
microwaving four separate cups of coffee rather than spend four minutes
heating the same amount in a pan on the stove. We've got so many friends on
speed dial we've forgotten their phone numbers. This is progress?
"Well, it was supposed to be," she says,
plucking lint from the folds of her navy blue wool dress. "But we kept being
seduced by what technology could do for us and ignoring what was being lost
in the process. Progress wasn't supposed to cost us anything we value."
From beeping cell phones at the "Messiah"
singalong to hip-hop elevator carols, it's easy to make a list of the
cultural lumps of coal that modern life has left in our Christmas stocking.
But less immediately obvious, Fox says, are the absences -- the spiritual
and aesthetic values we've allowed to slip away almost unnoticed in our
collective embrace of machinery from the steam engine to the Palm Pilot.
Fox is not exactly a Luddite, but she's
probably an unindicted co-conspirator. She lives on an island near Southwest
Harbor, Maine, refuses to have an answering machine or a cell phone and says
she brings her black-and-white TV out of the closet only for major events.
Her rabbit-ears antenna pulls in only two snowy channels.
She concedes to a computer as a reality of the
digital publishing age, but says she prefers to compose her books in
longhand so her fingers can't outrun her thoughts.
That may seem a far cry from the followers of
the apocryphal Ned Ludd, who smashed mechanical looms in the British
Midlands between 1811 and 1816 to protest the seismic changes wrought on
weavers and their communities by the Industrial Revolution. But she says the
violence of the Luddites was far from a measure of their cause. What they
were protesting, she says, was not so much the onset of machine-made cloth
as the erosion of their creative birthright as human beings: "Not . . . the
loss of jobs, but . . . the loss of a way of life." And though the Luddite
movement was quickly and rather brutally put down, its spirit lives on in
those of us who despair of ever learning to program our VCRs.
"We tend to see winning and losing in this
country in absolute terms," Fox says. "As if when someone fails to triumph
in an election or a cultural movement they just disappear. But, of course,
they don't disappear. Sometimes they're converted to the winning side, but
often they live on unpersuaded, continuing to believe in and contribute
their point of view."
What her book documents, to an extent that
surprised even her, is how persistent and pervasive the Luddite spirit has
remained in Western culture, casting a shadow that stretches from Wordsworth
and the Romantic poets through the agrarian literary movement of the
Depression-era American South to the back-to-the-land communes of the 1960s.
Sometimes the spirit is expressed in nostalgia
for a simpler time, as in Wordsworth's verse. Sometimes it "rages against
the machine," as in the poetry of William Blake and the novels of D.H.
Lawrence. And sometimes it triggers the establishment of alternative living
experiments, as with people sharing the ideas of Emerson and the
transcendentalists, or a whole school of aesthetics, as in the
late-19th-century Arts and Crafts movement of John Ruskin and William
Morris.
But it's always there, Fox says, and it's there
because "what it represents is not just a rejection of the mechanical in
life, but a reaffirmation of what it means to be human. We have been on this
Earth for thousands of years. We've been mechanized for less than 200.
Obviously we don't owe our survival as a species to technology. It is the
qualities of imagination, and creativity, and our shared humanity that have
kept us from extinction. And those are the qualities we hunger for today."
So what are we supposed to do? Throw out the
stereo and the Cuisinart, sell the cars and computers, and set up
housekeeping in a yurt?
We might end up happier if we did, Fox says,
but that's not what she's advocating.
First of all, she says, we shouldn't be
surprised at or feel guilty about the seductive power of technology. Its
hold on us is not simply the illusion of saved labor or expanded leisure.
Its real hold, she says, is the primal one of sorcery and myth.
"Look at the TV channel changer," Fox says. "We
push a button and images appear and disappear. What is that but witchcraft?
. . . Look at the television itself: It's the tribal storyteller. It's the
campfire we sit around to hear the stories. It's even a deity. We speak of
religion and wisdom as the appearance of light, and television tells its
stories and even sells its products with beams of light. There's something
really primal about our attraction to it, and we should acknowledge that."
At the same time, she says, we need to
understand how much television and its sibling technologies have separated
us from what's real. And then all we really have to do, she says, is "decide
to take control of our lives again."
It can start in small, even tiny, ways:
Fox is wedded to her morning cup of
fresh-ground coffee but gradually realized that the shriek of her electric
coffee grinder was setting her teeth on edge and costing her more in stress
than the pleasure of the coffee was relieving. She junked the electric
grinder for a hand grinder she bought from a mail-order store that caters to
the Amish and discovered that her mornings had been transformed out of all
proportion to the change.
"I realized the noise of the coffee grinder had
been bugging me for years and I didn't even realize it. Now there's a kind
of peacefulness about my mornings I wouldn't trade for anything. And I get a
curious satisfaction out of grinding the coffee beans by hand."
Not everyone, she realizes, cares that much
about coffee grinder noise or even has a grinder. "But all of us have
something . . . that we consider a necessary irritant in our life. And it's
probably not really necessary. It may even be keeping us from discovering
the pleasure in simple things."
When her clothes dryer broke some time ago, she
says, she decided to dry her clothes outside on a line the way her mother
used to. "I discovered that the trip outside to the clothesline forced me to
interact with the day in a new way. I became conscious of the sun and wind
and weather differently. I heard the birds. Now I hang clothes outside every
day, even in the Maine winter. Believe it or not, it's therapeutic."
Fox realizes that questioning something as
fundamental as a clothes dryer will sound weird to most people. She also
knows what works for her won't work for everyone. Her kids are grown, and
she lives alone. Her sister, she says, has lots of young kids and genuinely
needs the time and energy her clothes dryer saves. "But she and her husband
have locked their TV in the closet. Now their children read everything in
sight."
The key, she says, is figuring out which
machines help you live life in a more human way, in harmony with the world
around us. And which we've allowed to rob us of that humanity and intrude on
that harmony.
William Morris, the 19th-century designer best
remembered for the Morris chair, came up with a series of rules for living
with machines without becoming a machine oneself.
"He said if you were a potter making a bowl,"
Fox says, "it made sense to use a tool or a machine to scrape the bottom of
the bowl because that was just boring work and drudgery: It had nothing to
do with the shape or design of the bowl, which was a product of human
imagination and creativity. On the other hand, if you run a machine that
stamps out identical bowls one after the other, you've given over your
humanity to that technology. And we do that all the time."
Fox grew up in Staunton, Va., and spent a lot
of time during the 1950s at her grandparents' rural home in the Shenandoah
Valley. There she learned the pleasures of country life that she sought to
recapture in Maine after an urban adulthood and a broken marriage.
"My mother and grandmother and I used to wash
the dishes together in the kitchen, and we had a lot of really good
conversations in the process. They passed along stories and lessons about
life. . . . I found ways to ask questions there I might have hesitated to
ask in other settings. Washing dishes wasn't just washing dishes. It was a
kind of event."
Then along came electric dishwashers. The
dishwasher, she says, is "a perfect example of the wrong kind of technology.
It leaves you with the non-creative work, the drudgery, which is scraping
the plates and loading and unloading them. And it robs you of the only
interesting aspect of dishwashing, which is how to get off that piece of
cheese that's stuck to the plate. And it removes the opportunity for the
kind of shared family task and conversation that dishwashing used to be."
However that may sound, Fox is not trying to
romanticize dishwashing. She realizes there are times when there are piles
of dishes and too little time and the dishwasher can be a big help. But what
she wants us to understand, she says, is "that it's up to us how we use it.
If we want to just let it sit there and make dishwashing into a family event
occasionally, we can do that. That's our choice. And it might do more for
parent-child relationships than turning on the machine and using the time it
saves to prop ourselves mutely in front of the television."
We can take steps like that every day, she
says: steps to increase the interaction within our families and our
communities and between ourselves and our natural environment. We can stop
buying our children toys that make noises and rob the children of the
pleasure and the imagination of making the noises themselves. We can stop
trying to stimulate our children with electronic toys and realize the most
stimulating thing we can give them is a story we read or a walk we take with
them or an hour we spend with them just listening to what they have to say.
"There's obviously a lot of stress in the way
most of us live, and it's getting worse," she says. "People think they can't
live without three cars, two jobs and an hour-and-a-half commute in
stop-and-go traffic. We spend most of our waking hours watching television
that isn't even real entertainment but just people screaming at us to buy
more things. We literally spend more time charging the batteries of our cell
phones and computers than we do talking to our children. And guilt about
that drives us to spend ourselves into more debt buying the kids things they
don't need but we're convinced they must have.
"And yet all we really want is what the
Luddites wanted. We want to control our own lives. And we can."
Donald b. Kraybill, The Riddle of Amish
Culture. Maryland: The John Hopkins University Press, 2001. ISBN
080186772
Page 19
The technological age has brought the World
Wide Web and high-speed travel, multiplying the number of possible ties
individuals might have around the globe. But in other ways modernization is
also a process of separation that pulls things apart and partitions whole
systems - psychological, social, and organizational—into smaller parts in
the name of efficiency. Many of the social bonds of modern life are
abstract, rational, complex, and detached from a particular social context.
The fragmentation of modern life is often experienced on the personal level
as alienation when ties with meaning, work, and place evaporate.
Modernization often segments social relationships and activities. Working
in a factory instead of at home, going away to college, and moving to a
retirement center break up family units and separate members. Living in one
city, commuting to work in another, and vacationing in a third separates
family, work, and play. This pervasive process of separation threatens to
rupture the traditional ties of close-knit communities.
The process of modernization also pulls people
and things out of their social context. In a small village everyone knows
almost everything about everyone else. Modernity decontextualizes. A
photograph pulls people out of context. In a telephone conversation,
especially with a cell phone, it’s impossible to know the social context of
the other person. Television portrays floating images without context.
Virtual reality on the World Wide Web literally has no context. On the
Internet, lovers are unhitched from social reality. When things are taken
out of context, we lose perspective, meaning, and clarity.
Page 325
Here we have a social system without poverty.
Widows, orphans, and the destitute are cared for by the church. The Amish
are rarely imprisoned. Here is a society virtually free of crime and
violence. Some youth are occasionally arrested for drunken driving, and
children are occasionally paddled, but incidents of violent crime and murder
are conspicuously absent. Amish suicide and mental illness rates are
substantially lower than those in a the larger society. Alcohol abuse,
present among some youth, is practically nil among adults. Divorce is
unheard of. Individuals are not warehoused in bureaucratic institutions --
large schools, massive factories, retirement homes, or psychiatric
hospitals—but are cared for within the family.
Moreover, the generous
resources of social capital in Amish society lower the transaction costs—the
need for insurance, formal agreements, litigation, legal costs, and third
party brokers. Many of the routine exchanges in Amish society are
lubricated with trust and integrity, which reduces the economic cost of
transactions. Recycling goods, frugal management, a thrifty lifestyle, and
a rejection of consumerism produce scant waste. Energy consumption per
capita is remarkably low. Beyond exhaust fumes from diesel power plants and
water contamination by manure runoff, the Amish add little to environmental
pollution. Personal alienation, loneliness and meaninglessness are for the
most part absent. There are, of course, some unhappy marriages, lonely
people, obstinate bishops, cantankerous personalities, and family feuds.
But all things considered, the quality-of-life indicators for Amish society
as a whole are remarkably robust. The Amish have, indeed, created a humane
social system that attends to individual need and generates strong levels of
satisfaction.
Callicot, Baird, J. Earth’s Insights: A
Survey of Ecological Ethics from the Mediterranean Basin to the Australian
Outback. California: 1994, ISBN 0520085590, Page 70
Imagine cooking a stew. The Western concept of
order is like preparing it from a recipe. A certain Stew-universal or
Form—let’s say Hungarian goulash calls for such and such ingredients, in
measured proportions, cooked at a set temperature, for just so long. One
draws up a grocery list and goes to the supermarket and buys the
ingredients. Finally, one assembles the ingredients according to the
specifications of the recipe.
The Chinese concept of order is rather like
cooking a stew in the following way. One collects seasonally available
vegetables and herbs and perhaps a little fresh local seafood—the catch of
the day. One begins not with a recipe but with the particulars that happen
to be at hand, considering not only their generic characteristics but the
idiosyncrasies of each. Perhaps the carrot is a bit overgrown—tough but
tasty; the bok choy, inadvertently left out of yesterday’s stir-fry, a bit
wilted; the potatoes new and very crisp, and so on. One cuts, boils, and
tries; one decides to add a little of this and more of that; one turns up
the flame a little and then, finding it too high,
turns it down—until the blend is just right.
If it is done well, the flavor of each of the components is present in its
insistent particularity, but complemented—and complimented—by all the
others. Each ingredient is enhanced by virtue of its relationship to the
others. The whole is a harmony, not just an aggregate. (I owe this analogy
to Roger T. Ames, personal communication.)
Quick - hit the ‘breaks’ In a mad-dash
24/7 world, a few people are resisting the rush, moving slowly amid the rat
race By Marilyn Gardner, from the July 06, 2004 edition -
http://www.csmonitor.com/2004/0706/p17s01-bogn.html
Life-changing experiences take many forms. For
Carl Honoré, a Canadian journalist, the moment of truth came when he read an
article about “One-Minute Bedtime Stories.” Weary of nightly struggles with
his 2-year-old son, who loved long stories told slowly, his heart leapt. At
last! A way to shave precious minutes off parental bedtime duty!
But reason quickly prevailed. Honoré realized
that his whole life was “an exercise in hurry.” He had become “Scrooge with
a stopwatch, obsessed with saving every last scrap of time, a minute here, a
few seconds there.” There must be a better way to live, he reasoned. But
how?
A self-described “speedaholic,” Honoré packed
his bags and began racking up thousands of frequent-flier miles, studying
the prospects for slowing down in a world obsessed with going fast.
Beginning with an Italian-born movement called Slow Food, based on the
premise that cooking and eating should be leisurely, Honoré found groups and
individuals trying to regain a sense of well-being and pleasure.
Out of that mission came his engaging new book,
“In Praise of Slowness,” which delivers an urgent message: Slow down and
enjoy life.
In America’s 24/7 culture the pace has become
so intense, Honoré charges, that we have forgotten how to enjoy the moment.
In restaurants, we pay the bill and order a taxi while eating dessert. We
sleep too little and work too long, hardly daring to take time off. (“Vacationitis,”
he calls it.) We overprogram our children, creating stress in those as young
as 5.
The solution: Balance - the heart of the Slow
movement’s philosophy.
In his appealing first-person approach, Honoré
offers a you-are-there view of global efforts to challenge the “false god”
of speed. Everywhere, he sees evidence of “a great hunger for slowness:” The
popularity of gardening, book clubs, and knitting reflects a longing for a
more relaxed pace.
In England, he spends a day at a Speed
Awareness Program - penance for a speeding ticket - learning, not always
successfully, how to tame a heavy accelerator foot. He retreats to rural
Wiltshire for three days of meditation. He and his wife even enroll in a
class on Slow Sex.
In Italy, Honoré enjoys a four-hour Slow Food
dinner. In Germany, he hears a group called Tempo Giusto play Mozart and
others more slowly. And in Japan, he visits a school called Apple Time,
founded by desperate parents as a “slow school” alternative to high-stress
classes.
In his zeal to include every example he can
find, Honoré occasionally risks overstating his case. He breathlessly calls
SuperSlow “the weightlifting movement sweeping North America and beyond.”
Sweeping?
For all its benefits, living Slow remains a
luxury unavailable to many. Four-hour dinners are expensive, as are
alternative schools. And middle-class workers often can’t afford to cut
their hours to enjoy more time at home. Yet such quibbles do not detract
from Honoré’s provocative message.
In a fast-lane culture where efficiency is
king, he insists that devotees of Slow are not Luddites. Nor are they
backward or technophobic. Slow and Fast do not have to represent an
either-or choice. Who wants to give up jet travel or the Internet?
Ever the realist, Honoré cautions that
decelerating “will be a struggle until we rewrite the rules that govern
almost every sphere of life - the economy, the workplace, urban design,
education, medicine. This will take a canny mix of gentle persuasion,
visionary leadership, tough legislation, and international consensus.”
The most important question, Honoré says, comes
down to this:
“What is life for?” Making a persuasive case
for balance, he adds, “To let work take over our lives is folly. There are
too many important things that need time, such as friends, hobbies, and
rest.” That also includes the children like his son who hunger at bedtime
for “just one more story” - preferably a long one.
Marilyn Gardner writes about family issues for
the Monitor.
In Praise of Slowness:How a Worldwide
Movement Is Challenging the Cult of Speed By Carl Honoré
HarperSanFrancisco310 pp., $24.95
Kitchen Stories Movie Review:

Kitchen Stories is a quirky Norse/Swedish co-production that functions
equally effectively as a critique of common sociological methods of
observation, a male bonding movie, and a satire of certain aspects of the
countries where it transpires. The film, which takes place during the 1950s,
introduces a Swedish scientist, Folke (Tomas Norström), who travels to
Norway to observe how a volunteer, Isak (Joachim Calmeyer), functions in his
kitchen. It is Folke’s job to map Isak’s every movement in the kitchen so
the results can be used to determine how to engineer a kitchen to best meet
a single man’s needs. (Similar studies really took place in Sweden and the
United States during the 1950s, albeit with married women.)
Before beginning his work, Folke is given
strict instructions not to interact with Isak. He is to sit in a high chair
(one that looks a little like a lifeguard’s perch) in a corner of the
kitchen and watch. The theory is that Isak will go about his business as
usual, oblivious to Folke’s presence. The reality is that the presence of an
observer - even a silent one - influences Isak’s every action. This raises
questions about how legitimate any study can be that relies upon supposedly
impartial observation. Not only is it impossible for a human observer to be
objective about a subject, but the subject will almost always act
differently. (One has to wonder about the “honesty” of people who set up
webcams in their houses with the objective of showing how they live to
anyone who discovers the URL. Do they really go about their business as
usual, or do they “perform” for their audience? And, after a camera has been
around for a long time, is it possible that what we’re seeing is no longer
influenced by an exhibitionist, self-conscious awareness of being watched?)
As one might readily anticipate from a movie of
this sort, Folke and Isak, both of whom are loners, develop a friendship. It
begins with a few innocuous questions and ends with Folke buying Isak a
birthday cake and Isak letting Folke listen to the chatter of radio station
broadcasts that can be heard coming through the silver fillings in his
mouth. There are other characters in the movie, but they fill minor roles,
adding a little color. For the most part, director Bent Hamer is interested
in Folke and Isak. The nature of their interaction will be familiar to those
who have seen any of the countless male bonding pictures available in video
stores, although the acting and writing are of a higher caliber than that
which one typically discovers in Hollywood fare.
One aspect of the film which will likely be
lost to North American viewers is Hamer’s tongue-in-cheek view of Swedish
and Norse stereotypes, and the way he satirizes the mutual antagonism
between the countries. The Swedes are portrayed as cold, uptight individuals
who rely on science and technology, while the Norse are depicted as somewhat
backward, folksy people. One element that typifies their differences is the
side of the road on which they drive - during the ‘50s, the Norse stayed to
the right, while the Swedes took the left (scientifically proven, a
character asserts, to be the safer side).
I’m tempted to describe Kitchen Stories as an
inconsequential film, but that sounds a little too like a pejorative.
Rather, let me say that it’s a simple story told well, with plenty of
lighthearted moments and kernels of thought-provoking material, but little
to really excite the cinematic appetite. In some ways, the central
relationship between Folke and Isak, despite being the most emotionally
satisfying aspect of the film, is the least interesting. Kitchen Stories is
not the kind of motion picture that will receive widespread distribution,
nor will it draw significant crowds. But most who see it will come away with
a positive impression.
Rating: *** out of ****
Marks, Alexandra, “How drinking harms
on-the-job efficiency.” Christian Science Monitor, 12/23/98, Vol. 91
Issue 20, p2
NEW YORK….For the first time, researchers have
documented that it is these social drinkers - not the hard-core alcoholics
or problem drinkers - who are responsible for most of the estimated $67
billion worth of lost productivity that’s attributed each year to
alcohol-related problems. The implications are expected to transform
corporate drinking policies across the country. Most now focus strictly on
people with serious alcohol problems. As a result of this study, researchers
say, they should start educating every worker about the negative “stealth
effects” of even low levels of drinking at work, and any heavy drinking off
the job.
Conducted over four years at seven Fortune 500
companies by JSI and researchers from the Harvard and Boston University
Schools of Health, the study also found that 80 percent of the drinking that
took place during the workday, took place at lunch. The study found that
even a glass of wine or a beer with a burger impaired worker productivity.
Counter to popular wisdom, the study also found
that it was managers, not hourly employees, who were most often drinking
during the workday. Twenty-three percent of upper managers and 11 percent
of first-line supervisors said they had a drink during the workday, compared
with only 8 percent of hourly employees.
Be You Drunken! Baudelaire, 1869
One must always be drunk. That’s all there is
to it; that’s the only solution. In order not to feel the horrible burden
of Time breaking your shoulders and bowing your head to the ground, you
must be drunken without respite.
But; with what? With wine, poetry or virtue,
as you will. Be you drunken.
And if sometimes you awake, on the steps of a
palace in the green herbage of a ditch or in the dreary solitude of your
room, then ask the wind, the waves, the stars, the birds the clocks, ask
everything that runs, that moans that moves on wheels, everything that sings
and speaks—ask them what is the time of day; and the wind, the waves, the
stars, the birds and the clocks will answer you: It is time to get drunk. In
order not to be the martyred slave of Time, be you drunken; Be you drunken
ceaselessly! With wine, poetry or virtue, as you will!
Vienne, Veronique. The Art of Doing
Nothing. New York: 1998. ISBN 0609600745, Page 73
Learn to hold your liquor—literally. How you
hold a glass of wine can make the difference between staying sober and
getting buzzed. Borrow a couple of tricks from wine-tasting pros and you’ll
never have to call a cab to go home and apologize to your host the next day.
Always raise your glass in front of your eyes before you begin to drink.
Sit straight, breathe easy, and make a silent toast to Bacchus, god of
inebriety your adversary for the evening.Don’t cling to your glass. Keep a
respectful distance. When you are not drinking, the edge of your glass
should be at least eight inches from the tip of your nose. Never look up at
the ceiling when you drink. Look through the glass, straight into the room.
Every so often, bring the glass to your lips, tilt it, inhale the aroma—but
don’t drink. Don’t ever take a mindless swing. Taste the wine as you
swallow. The secret to remaining sober is to appreciate what you drink.
|