Hello, I’m Veronica
The sky is not completely dark at night. Were the sky absolutely dark, one would not be able to see the silhouette of an object against the sky.
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Poultry Par Excellence
Among its endless and varied topics, Wikipedia includes a list of “notable chicken restaurants” (just about all of them U.S.-based). In the fast-food subcategory alone, you find over 75 fowl food-stops. I recognized about one in ten as I scanned the list, including Bojangles’, Bush’s, Church’s, El Pollo Loco, KFC, Popeye’s, Raising Cane’s, Wild Wings, and Zaxby’s. That’s a lot of drive-thru chicken. Yet put ’em all in the back seat, because I side with those clever Holstein dairy cows, begging me to “Eat Mor Chikin”. And I do eat more – at Chick-fil-A.
As the kids morphed from teenagers to adults, fast food pretty much disappeared from our eating-out options. Starbucks aside (because coffee is the elixir of life), we stopped navigating the circuitous drive-thru’s of McDonald’s and the like. Our palates demanded better and healthier. More appealing sit-down options beckoned on every street corner. But Chick-fil-A stubbornly persisted in the mix, as if waving a banner with the words, “Exception To The Rule”.
Dwarf House – Hapeville, GA No matter how you label it, there’s a lot to like about Chick-fil-A. For one, it’s the great American success story. Its origins trace back to founder S. Truett Cathy, and a 1960’s-era restaurant near Atlanta called Dwarf House. Its popularity swelled through twenty years of growth in shopping mall food courts. Its first free-standing restaurant opened in 1986. Today, you’ll find more than 2,400 Chick-fil-A’s scattered across the continent, including a prominent three-story location in mid-town Manhattan, and several in Toronto, Canada.
It’s all about the food, of course. Chick-fil-A’s most-ordered entree – the classic chicken sandwich (breaded, with pickles and a butter-toasted bun) – is a recipe unchanged since its inception fifty years ago. The signature waffle fries accompanying the entrees are the most popular item on the entire menu. And Chick-fil-A’s lemonade and milkshakes have a devoted following all by themselves. Some patrons cruise the drive-thru for nothing but the drinks.
The Chick-fil-A’ “classic” There’s more to like about Chick-fil-A. Their brand of customer service is exceptional. Chick-fil-A is the only restaurant I know where you’ll hear the words “my pleasure” in exchange for your “thank you”. Between your order, payment, and the window itself, you’ll probably get “my pleasure’” three times in a single drive-thru. That kind of courtesy never gets old.
American Customer Satisfaction Index (ACSI) How about the numbers? Chick-fil-A is the third-biggest U.S. restaurant chain ranked by sales (behind only Starbucks and McDonald’s). Their sales have quintupled in the last ten years, to over $10.2 billion. Chick-fil-A’s market share among fast-food chicken restaurants hovers around 33%. Their nearest competitor – KFC – is a distant 15.3%.
Here’s one more reason to love Chick-fil-A: they’re closed on Sundays (as well as Thanksgiving and Christmas). In the company’s own words, “Our decision to close on Sunday was our way of honoring God and of directing our attention to things that mattered more than our business.” No matter the faith angle, you have to respect a restaurant giving its entire workforce the day off once a week. Not to mention, a closed Chick-fil-A just makes the heart grow fonder.
A recent Wall Street Journal (WSJ) profile on Chick-fil-A shows they don’t mess with success. McDonald’s regularly tests its patrons with trendy offerings (“Bacon Smokehouse Burger”). Burger King reinvents itself with its upcoming “Impossible” (veggie) Whopper. Meanwhile, Chick-fil-A maintains a little-changed menu of what’s been selling for decades: responsibly sourced, domestically produced, no-filler-no-preservative chicken.At the conclusion of the WSJ article, I found one hundred reader comments about Chick-fil-A. I scanned half of them, and every last one was positive. That’s a first for me. In today’s cynical world, 100% positive feedback may be the most telling statistic of all.
Final factoid. For all my allegiance to Chick-fil-A, I must admit I didn’t know the origin of the name – until now. Go figure, it’s just a mash-up of “chicken fillet”. And the “-A”? “Grade A”, a subtle nod to the quality of the Chick-fil-A product. No wonder those cows push you to lay off beef. They’re offering chicken par excellence instead.Some content sourced from the official website of Chick-fil-A.
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Hot Little Numbers
Yesterday, I became reacquainted with “hack” – a harsh bit of a word. On the one hand, hack is when you take big chops into a tree with your ax. Nothing wrong with that. Hack is also whether you can cope with a given situation (i.e. “can you hack it?”). Nothing wrong with that either. But then again, hack is uncontrollable coughing caused by a bad cold. Or even worse, hack is breaking into a computer or account, with not-so-nice intentions.
I experienced not-so-nice hack yesterday. My wife and I are waging war with a cold we’ve had since Easter. Together we’re coughing up a storm (sounds of thunder). More to the subject at hand, our bank left a tidy little message on our answering machine last night. “…do we have reason to suspect fraudulent charges on our Visa card?” So, I logged onto our account and scrolled down to the last couple of days of activity. There the little devils hid – six small charges, all for the food-delivery service “DoorDash“.
Have I ever used DoorDash? (No.) Do I even know what DoorDash is? (I do now.) I have no use for DoorDash, nor them for me. We live in the country; wide, open spaces in every direction. The only way we get pizza delivery is to agree to meet the driver halfway. The only way we get trash service is to pay “fuel surcharges” on top of the monthly bill. We’re too far out for DoorDash. Just for grins, I entered our address into DoorDash’s website and up popped my options. Cool! For thirty days I get free service on delivery orders above $10. Not cool – I have zero nearby restaurants offering DoorDash. Guess its pizza for dinner again tonight.
Data Source: FTC Consumer Sentinel Network Data Book 2016 But I digress. Back to the hack. To my bank’s “credit”, they handle minor fraud efficiently. They noticed the hack before I did (bless their computer algorithms). Once I called back and denied any knowledge of DoorDash, they blocked my card and promptly dropped a new one into the mail. A few days from now, I’ll be off and charging again, the only real inconvenience being to update my linked accounts.
I wish I could leave it at that. After all, this incident won’t cost me a penny. Those who pay annual fees and interest charges unknowingly pay the cost of credit card fraud as well ($40 billion every year). I just can’t get past the fact someone out there enjoyed six free DoorDash deliveries courtesy of my credit.
The scammers are winning this game hands-down. A physical credit card allows crazy-easy access to its critical information. Take your pick as you regularly surrender your data: 1) through your phone, 2) through your computer, 3) through self-service devices (i.e. gas pump, ATM), and 4) by simply handing over your card at a place of business.
Left: actual card slot. Right: Skimmer data-collection “cover”. My DoorDash friend picked up my numbers through one of the last two ways – I’m sure of it. I never give out my credit card over the phone, and the websites I use have some form of verifiable security. Alas, self-service devices and handing over cards are no-win situations. With the former, you encounter skimmers (discrete data-collection devices placed over card readers). With the latter, you risk the merchant or waitstaff copying your numbers when out of sight. They probably use a skimmer as well.
The only real solution to credit card fraud – sad to say – is not using the card at all. Pay for your gas with cash. Write a check for the cash you would’ve taken out of the ATM. Technology is improving the situation (i.e. Apple Pay, table-side pay systems), but until these approaches become the norm, you’ll continue to deal with situations where your card goes out-of-sight.
Frankly, I’m not asking for much here. All I want is my bank to collar my DoorDash friend and let me know he/she faces the consequences of their actions. But I know my little scammer is not worth their time. Instead, he/she keeps getting free food, and annual fees and interest rates tick up a little bit more.My brand new Visa card arrives later in the week. I’ll activate it and update my linked accounts. The inconvenience to me amounts to less than thirty minutes. But the annoyance of it all – well – that feeling lasts a whole lot longer. I just hope, by the time DoorDash gets to my neighborhood, I’m no longer perturbed and willing to give it a try.
Hope they’ll take cash.
Some content sourced from the March 2019 Upgraded Points article, “The Best Ways to Prevent Credit Card Fraud & Theft”.
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Crushed Rock
Checked the tires lately? No, no, no – not the air pressure – the treads. Take a good look the next time you grab the car keys. Besides pebbles in the grooves or nicks in the rubber, your tires might sport a bright swipe of yellow on the sidewall. That, my friends, is the calling card of the local police, tracking your parking habits. You could say you’re a “marked man”. But sadly – at least for me – the time has come for that chalk to go back to just being rock.
The Sixth Circuit U.S. Court of Appeals sits in Cincinnati, with a jurisdiction of Michigan, Ohio, Kentucky, and Tennessee. Recently, a disgruntled Michiganite, possessor of fifteen parking tickets in three years (all issued by the same enforcement officer – creepy), decided she’d had enough and filed suit. Just this week, the Sixth decided yes, in fact; chalking tires is unconstitutional. By definition, chalking is somehow “a search of personal property”. By ruling of the Sixth, that search is considered unreasonable under the Fourth Amendment. Whoa. All because of a little chalk?I’m trying to decide if “trivial” or “ludicrous” is the better word for this little story (see news article and twelve-page ruling here). Clearly, I don’t understand the fuss. Is chalking an invasion of our personal space? Are we channeling our inner little kid and crying, “don’t touch my stuff”? Have we arrived at the Land of Ridiculousness, where issuing a parking citation requires a search warrant?
In my Mayberry world, chalking tires is kind of charming. It’s a mark of a small town. Perhaps the council didn’t like the look of parking meters. Perhaps they couldn’t afford them. Whatever the reason, they released parking enforcement by foot (or bicycle), to cruise up and down the blocks “swiping tires”. Two hours later, those marks sometimes become parking citations.College campuses are common ground for chalking tires, so the mixed opinions of students on this week’s ruling came as a surprise. Some worry new technology (camera shots? microchips?) will be more intrusive. Others are simply glad parking enforcement will be hands-off. Still others will miss the opportunity of “clever” ways to beat the system (a. Spray tires with a non-stick coating. b. Cover tires completely with chalk. c. Take tires with you after you park.)
I feel bad for chalk factories. Parking enforcement was a significant, high-profile use of their product, and now that’s been taken away. A substance of little more than calcium carbonate just lost some major press. The rest of chalk’s uses – by comparison – are downright banal.
White Cliffs of Dover, England When was the last time you encountered chalk? Probably been awhile. Unless you’re a teacher at the blackboard, a tailor marking clothes, a gymnast, rock-climber, weightlifter, or cuing up a game of pool, it’s safe to say you haven’t used chalk lately. Unless you’ve sailed in front of the White Cliffs of Dover, you probably haven’t even seen chalk lately.
How about chalk memories? My earliest comes from the playground of my elementary school. Before the days of painted lines, girls would chalk out hopscotch squares on the asphalt, doing their skips as they collected items from the squares (we boys were too cool for hopscotch). My favorite chalk memory comes from college, when my engineering professor laid out equations on the blackboard, then turned to talk to the class. As he spoke, he’d subconsciously hold the chalk aside his nose. By the end of the lecture his face was fairly covered in chalk dust.A few weeks ago, my wife and I took a trip to Charleston, SC, and to nearby Folly Beach. The (now defunct) Morris Island lighthouse stands several hundred yards off the coast. A mile-long asphalt trail takes you from the parking lot to the beach, as close as you can get to the lighthouse. That trail is the photo below. Hundreds of pictures and sayings; bold, colorful sidewalk art. You literally walk the chalk.
The next time I get a parking ticket (and there will be a next time), I’ll be tempted to check my tires. No longer. Instead, I’ll just chalk it up to days-gone-by, when marking tires was simply a good intention, not a violation of the U.S. Constitution.What a world.
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Boston Long
Durgin-Park, the venerable restaurant inside of Boston’s Faneuil Hall, recently closed its doors after almost two hundred years of operation. You read that right; D-P opened for business a few decades after the Revolutionary War, but served its last patron this year, citing “an inability to turn a profit”. For America at least, that’s some serious history. For Beantown on the other hand, that’s par for the course. After all, this week the Boston Marathon completed its 123rd consecutive running.
I am in awe of runners who qualify for – let alone run – the Boston Marathon. It’s daunting enough to compete for 26.2 miles, but you can’t join the “fun” in Boston unless you complete a qualifying marathon in under 3 hours (men, ages 18-34), or 3.5 hours (women). Consider, 3 hours is an average pace of 7 min./mile. To appreciate that, go to the gym, crank up the treadmill to eight or nine miles/hour, and see how long you can maintain it. Now imagine running that fast for three hours straight, up and down the city streets of Boston. It’s superhuman.
The Boston is the world’s oldest annual marathon. Simply achieving the age-specific qualification time is the goal of most elite long-distance runners. But if that’s all you know about New England’s most-spectated event, you’re missing out on some fascinating race-related trivia. Here’s a sampling:
- The Boston is run every “Patriots’ Day” (the third Monday in April), a holiday to commemorate the start of the American Revolutionary War. Effectively, the marathon is a nod to freedom.
- The Boston was first run in 1897, one hundred years after the first Olympic marathon in Athens, Greece. That marathon, as most know, was inspired by the fabled run of the Greek soldier Phillipides from Marathon to Athens, announcing a battle victory over the Persians. Effectively, Phillipides’ run was also a nod to freedom.
- The Boston Red Sox play every Patriots’ Day in Fenway Park. The game finishes in time for the fans to walk a mile east along the Charles River, arriving in Copley Square as the marathon runners are crossing the finish line.
- Until 1986, the men’s and women’s winners received a wreath of olive branches and a trophy; no cash prize. Today? First place: $150k, Second: $75k, Third: $40k, and Fourth: $25k. Might want to dust off the running shoes and start training.
- Check out Derek Murphy’s “marathon investigation” blog here. Derrick started his sleuthing five years ago and outed over 250 cheaters, including several who faked their race qualification times in order to run. Too bad Derrick wasn’t around for the 1980 race, when Rosie Ruiz pulled off the marathon’s most famous heist (see her story here).
- In the 2011 race, Geoffrey Mutai of Kenya effectively broke the world marathon record (even though it wasn’t deemed official), finishing in 2:03:03. Try that pace on a treadmill. Set the speed at twelve miles/hour and… well… let it spin from a safe distance and just watch.
- The Boston draws an average of 30,000 participants each year, cheered on by 500,000 spectators. The participants are divided into men’s and women’s categories of “elite runners” (i.e. pros), the remaining qualified runners (waves of 10,000), wheelchair-bound, and hand-cyclists. The Boston even accommodates blind runners.
- The Boston is famous for Heartbreak Hill; the incline located a few miles from the finish where runners tend to hit an endurance “wall”. Why the name? In the 1936 race, Johnny Kelley caught up with rival Tarzan Brown on that hill, giving him a pat on the back as he passed by. Bad move. Brown took the gesture as a challenge, found another gear, and went on to win the race. Brown effectively “broke Kelly’s heart” and the hill gained a name forever.
- Halfway through the Boston, the lively women from nearby Wellesley College form a long “Scream Tunnel”, yelling and blowing kisses as the runners pass by. These ladies are so loud, you’ll know the Scream Tunnel is coming a mile before you get there.
- And finally… the Boston Marathon is not really run in Boston; not until the final couple of miles. Before that, you’re touring twenty-four miles of eight neighboring towns instead.
Remarkably, this year’s Boston Marathon included four finishers in the top hundred from right here in Colorado Springs. The next day, my cycle instructor casually mentioned she’d run the race before. Ditto my former boss at Hewlett-Packard. And my sister-in-law has a good chance of qualifying in the next couple of years. Superhumans. As for me? I do like to run, but I’d be happy enough just to spectate beside those hundreds of thousands of “Boston Strong”. I’m just sorry I can’t have dinner at Durgin-Park afterwards.
Some content sourced from Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”; and the Mental Floss article, “11 Fast Facts About the Boston Marathon”.
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Smile for the Camera
I could dedicate an entire blog to Americans and their deliberately awful driving habits. Think about the last time an impatient driver just about kissed your rear bumper – practically screaming you over to the slow lane (and how you stayed in the lane anyway just to make ’em madder). Or how about merging onto a rushing interstate highway, only to be denied by drivers who want to “win” the right lane? Lately, a new habit takes the checkered flag for most-annoying: drivers sneaking through intersections when the light just turns red. You know these evaders; the car dashing through after the car sneaking through on the yellow. For these drivers, it’s time to smile. Colorado Springs has installed red-light cameras.
Red-light cameras have been around for years, but our fair city decided it’s finally time for the photo ops. At two of our busiest intersections, the city just put the finishing touches on the cameras. For the next thirty days they’ll kind of test the waters; see how much action they get. No tickets, just photos. To that I say: forget the thirty-day trial and begin the citations. Eleven hours after the cameras started snapping last Tuesday, the city had already recorded sixty-two red-light violations. Sixty-two! Do the math and you amass 4,000 violations per month. Do the math again – at $75 per violation – and you bank $300k. That’s two cameras and only two intersections.
This photo shoot will get fun in a hurry. After the thirty-day trial the city adds another two cameras at another two intersections, with another thirty-day trial, and so on and so on. The entire program is easily funded by all those $75 fines. I don’t know the cost of a red-light camera, but at the rate we’re going we’ll have the entire city camera’d in no time.My opinion on red-light cameras is hardly below board. I think they’re a wonderful use of technology. Not a day goes by where I don’t witness an “extra” car in the intersection. When it happens, two thoughts come to mind. First, it’s a miracle we don’t have an accident. Second, the violator bought into this opportunity long before it happened. Think about it. The light turns red at the same time the cross-light turns green. There should be an accident. But the red-light violator banks on the delayed reaction of the driver accelerating on the green. He/she sneaks through before the opposing car really gets going. It’s a gamble on human lives – every time.
Speaking of the $75 fine, a moving violation is supposed to set you back $150. Yet getting caught by a red-light camera doesn’t count as “moving”. Care to explain that? Aren’t you “moving” as you deliberately break the law? Regardless, they’re making this program as friendly as possible. The police review the infraction and the photos in all cases. You must enter the intersection after the signal turns red to be cited. You don’t even get points on your driving record.
A few years ago, my son got a ticket from a red-light camera in another city. He didn’t realize his infraction (or so he claims) until the citation arrived in the mail. Conveniently, you get a URL for the photos so you can see exactly what happened. The technology is remarkable; five or six pics, including the license plate on the vehicle (front and rear), a full shot of the vehicle in the intersection while the signal is red, and that smile-for-the-camera shot of the driver. With photos from all angles, there’s no arguing the infraction.
As if to underscore the need for this program in Colorado Springs, last Friday a driver blew through a red light, collided with two other cars, and sent several people to the hospital with serious injuries. Just happened to be one of the two intersections where the city installed the cameras. I’d say they got this right. I’d also say this program is long overdue. No more “colorblind driving”, people. Red is red.
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The sky is not completely dark at night. Were the sky absolutely dark, one would not be able to see the silhouette of an object against the sky.
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