I’m sorry, folks, but after searching Saturday’s news for something — anything — that might be amusing, or at least wouldn’t send everyone running for a place to hide, this is the best I could come up with: a box of giraffe poop seized from an arriving passenger at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. Her answer to the obvious question: because she wanted to make a necklace out of it. Presumably to be worn, either by herself or some lucky recipient. Poop. Giraffe poop. Excrement. Feces. From Kenya. Big, round chunks of the stuff. See for yourselves . . .
That says jewelry to me, all right.
Now, apparently it is legal to bring this . . . uh . . . product into the country, but only with a proper veterinary license. Though why even a veterinarian would need it, is beyond me. In any event, this lady says she has made jewelry creations in the past from moose poop (I assume from local animals, not imported), and was undoubtedly excited at the prospect of branching out to some more exotic species, such as a Kenyan giraffe. In her favor, she did list the item on her Customs declaration, and perhaps she simply didn’t know she needed a license. But she apparently also hadn’t done her research into the possible diseases carried by this . . . uh . . . product. Kenya is host to several types of swine fever, foot-and-mouth disease, and the like, and wearing a decorative item made of the . . . uh . . . baubles could prove disastrous. So, it’s lucky our Customs folks were on their toes — as, I assume, were the giraffes when they produced the . . . uh . . . stuff back home in Kenya.
I don’t believe the lady was charged with any crime or violation, since she had indeed declared her . . . uh . . . contraband. But I find myself wondering whether she shouldn’t be encouraged to seek counseling, and perhaps be guided toward a more traditional hobby. Soap-making comes immediately to mind.
*. *. *
In second place for fun item of the day would be the annual Fat Bear Week competition at Katmai National Park & Preserve in Alaska. These majestic creatures have spent the summer gorging on salmon (and whatever else they eat) to fatten themselves up in preparation for the long winter hibernation, when their sleeping bodies live off of the stored fat.
Ready for a long winter’s nap
These big fellas apparently have names, like “Otis,” “Bear 747” (the reigning champ), and “32 Chunk,” and the competition is fierce. This year’s online contest, though, was one of the government programs in danger of being cancelled if Congress hadn’t been able to push through a stopgap funding deal. Thank goodness it was saved in time!
For all you bear-lovers out there, the voting opened at noon (Eastern time) on Wednesday, and will conclude on October 10th. Last year, there were more than a million votes cast, so it’s not some rinky-dink little contest. Check it out and cast your vote at http://www.fatbearweek.org. Good luck to all of our beautiful contestants, and sweet dreams until spring.
First of all, it’s a bird. A rather large seabird, ranging in size from 6.6 to 11 pounds, with a wingspan of 59-83 inches and a body length of 31-37 inches. In flight, it is described as bearing a slight resemblance to an albatross; but it is a particularly ugly bird, with a huge beak and small, suspicious-looking, beady eyes. At one time, petrels were thought to be a divine warning that storms were on their way; they have been referred to as “water witches,” “Satanites,” and “birds of the devil,” due to their association with storms. But that’s not all they are today.
Northern Giant Petrel, a.k.a. Burevestnik
The Russian word for a petrel is burevestnik. Now, where have I heard that word before, and what does it matter?
Ah, yes, I remember — it’s what the Russians have chosen to name their newest generation of nuclear-powered cruise missile. They — the birds, not the missiles — are “extremely aggressive and will kill other seabirds (usually penguin chicks, sick or injured adult penguins and the chicks of other seabirds), even those as large as an albatross, which they kill either by battering them to death or drowning. At sea, they feed on krill, squid, and fish.”
Okay . . . now I see the connection. In March of 2018, it — the missile, not the bird — was described by Vladimir Putin as “a low-flying stealth missile carrying a nuclear warhead, with almost unlimited range, unpredictable trajectory and ability to bypass interception boundaries.” So they’re both — the birds and the missiles — basically killing machines that swoop in and terminate anything and everything in their path. And I really don’t know how I feel about that “unpredictable trajectory” thing. Plus, to cap it off, in 2019 the Nuclear Threat Initiative (NTI) quoted Russian military expert Alexei Leonkov as describing the Burevestnik thus: “a weapon of retaliation, which Russia would use after Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles to finish military and civilian infrastructure and not leave a chance of survival.” [All quotes from Tim Lister and Sergey Gudkov, CNN, October 5, 2023.]
“This one’s a real killer,” he thinks to himself, gleefully.
Well, that’s pretty specific. It’s also pretty much what one would expect from a nuclear weapon: total annihilation. But why would Vladimir Putin choose this particular time to be testing new nuclear-powered missiles? And why announce it at the annual meeting of the Valdai Discussion Club (a Russian think tank) in the resort city of Sochi, Russia, where it was bound to make the worldwide news reports? Is it to be taken as a warning that “a storm is on the way”? Or is it just more of the saber-rattling for which Mr. Putin is so well-known? We don’t know, of course; although it does seem to tie in nicely with the constant prattling of his Deputy Chairman of the Security Council, Dmitry Medvedev, about a nuclear response. And it’s just one more thing to add to our list of reasons for insomnia.
Just one more sleepless night.
*. *. *
But we’re apparently not the only ones plagued by a lack of sleep; Putin has also had cause lately to lie awake at night . . . which, when you think about it, is only fair. The reason? “Authorities in Russia are looking into an alleged plot to ‘remove’ President Vladidmir Putin, according to a report, after receiving a tip about a suspicious conversation in a karaoke bar.” [Dan Ladden-Hall, Daily Beast, October 5, 2023; as also reported by Telegram Channel VChK-OGPU.] *
* NOTE: This is the first I’ve heard of this particular Telegram (social media) channel, VChK-OGPU, which appears to have named itself after the Russian security service of the 1920s, which later became the KGB. Am I the only one who finds that odd? Odd, and a little disturbing?
Okay, it’s a “report” on a “tip” about a “suspicious conversation” held “in a karaoke bar.” Hardly what one would call a reliable source. But these things can’t be ignored, so let’s see what’s going on, according to this “report.” It seems that the Russian Ministry of Internal Affairs (MVD) have been searching for an employee of an unspecified law enforcement agency, after being tipped to a “secret conspiracy against the head of state.” That employee reportedly had received a call from a man named Mikhail Yurchenko, who was alarmed to have had a conversation with yet another man (the one in the bar) “about the war and future life in Russia.” That third man showed Yurchenko something called a “red service ID,” and said that he had been tasked “to remove Vladimir Putin.” Wisely, Mr. Yurchenko reported the incident to the proper authorities. I am surprised, though, that Mr. Yurchenko’s name has been made public. Wouldn’t that place him in serious jeopardy if the threat turns out to be real? If that’s even his real name, of course.
“But you mustn’t tell a soul.”
Now, we all know that famous people — and particularly people in positions of power — live constantly with the knowledge that there are others out there who really, really don’t like them, and are unstable enough to try to harm them. In other words, the world is full of crazies. And it seems that Vladimir Putin has become completely paranoid, to the extent that he no longer even trusts his own security details. Add this recent report to the mix, and he must be going bonkers.
I don’t know that we’ll ever learn the result of this investigation, unless someone is actually arrested, thereby demonstrating the efficiency of Putin’s security forces. But it’s an interesting side story, and I just thought I’d share it with you today.
And by the way, if you’re waiting for an expression of sympathy from me for Vladimir Putin’s nerve-wracking situation . . . don’t waste your time. It’s not gonna happen.
I love Broadway shows. Old ones, new ones, and especially the musicals . . . I just can’t get enough of them. They are, for me, the perfect escape mechanism. I settle down in my seat as the lights dim, the orchestra charges headlong into the overture, and I feel that little thrill of anticipation as I leave my world behind and allow myself to be transported into whatever world awaits onstage. It doesn’t get any better than this.
Busby Berkeley on Broadway
Okay, so I’m not old enough to have seen a Busby Berkeley spectacular. My mother was, though, and I’ve seen film clips of a few of them. What they lacked in talent, they made up for in sheer numbers, beautiful costumes, and perfect timing. They were the Broadway hits of their day, and the forerunners of our Cats and Lion King.
It all began for me with My Fair Lady, way back in the late 1950s or early ‘60s. It had opened in New York in 1956, and when the road company finally came to Washington’s National Theater, my mother treated herself, my sister and me to three orchestra seats . . . at the bargain price of $4.40 apiece. I believe the New York price was a shocking $8.80. Anyway, I remember sitting there, totally enthralled at the glorious spectacle taking place before my eyes — the sights, the sounds, the color, the very energy of it. And how the entire audience roared when Eliza Doolittle belted out those memorable words at the Ascot races: “C’mon, Dover, move yer bloomin’ arse!” The movies couldn’t compete with this; these people were real! And I was hooked.
“C’mon, Dover . . .”
Some of my all-time favorites are also some of the oldest: Rodgers and Hammerstein’s classics, Carousel, Oklahoma, South Pacific, The Sound of Music. They don’t write scores like that anymore. But so many of the more recent productions have also been nothing short of phenomenal. Such as . . .
Cats and The Lion King: I lump these two together because — aside from the glorious music — they are most memorable for the costuming and the astonishingly lifelike representations of animals. I remember a young family seated in front and a little to the left of us at Lion King. The boy and girl were probably around eight and ten years old, and the expressions on their faces as the cast of animals danced down the aisle, right past them, toward the stage . . . That alone was worth the price of admission — which, I assure you, was no longer $4.40.
“Memory”
Chicago: We almost missed the opening number of this one. Something had caused massive traffic jams in the city, and all the parking garages were full, also for some unremembered reason. I finally used my handicap parking tag (from an earlier surgery) to talk my way into a garage where the nice attendant made a space for me in a corner (and earned himself a big tip). I limped convincingly up the ramp to the street . . . where we then took off and ran the two blocks to the National Theater just in time to be seated before the doors were closed. Drastic times call for drastic measures. And what a show it was!
“All That Jazz”
Fiddler On the Roof: What can I say? Seeing Zero Mostel in this one was nothing short of a privilege, and the music and dancing were incomparable. I couldn’t help visualizing my grandparents in the setting of a Russian shtetl (Jewish settlement, or small village), and I wept shamelessly at the end of the show as they were forced to leave and become part of the diaspora from their Russian homeland. And I’m happy to say that the later movie, starring Topol in the role originated by Zero Mostel, is also outstanding. I must have watched it 100 times by now, and I still cry as they leave their run-down little village of Anatevka. Can’t help it. (At the theater performance, I wept out loud. But so did half the audience, so it wasn’t noticeable.)
“To Life!”
Les Miserables: Hands down my all-time favorite. When this show first came to the Kennedy Center, I didn’t want to see it. I mean, how on earth could anyone make a movie out of one of the most depressing books ever written? But while it was playing, I had occasion to go to the Kennedy Center box office to pick up tickets for another show. I happened to walk by the Opera House venue just as Les Miz was ending and the doors were being opened. When I heard the closing strains from the orchestra pit, and the eruption of cheers from the audience, I stopped dead in my tracks, turned around, and galloped back to the box office to try to get tickets for any performance. Of course, it was sold out . . . and I kicked myself all the way back to my office. I finally did see it when it returned the following year . . . and a second time at the Kennedy Center . . . and once at the National Theater . . . and the Signature Theater in Arlington, Virginia . . . and at Wolf Trap Farm Park. (And by the way, the movie of this one doesn’t come close to the real thing — a poor imitation.)
“Do You Hear the People Sing?”
It’s not all about musical comedy, though. One of the greatest thrills of all time was seeing Mikhail Baryshnikov perform Swan Lake at the Kennedy Center. And being able to attend operas at the Bol’shoi Theatre in Moscow and the Kirov (now renamed the Mariinsky) in St. Petersburg, Russia. And the concerts by Ella Fitzgerald, Harry Belafonte, and others in the ‘50s and ‘60s at Washington’s outdoor Carter Barron Amphitheater. And Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gorme at a little nightclub at 14th and I Streets in downtown D.C.; guitarist Charlie Byrd at the Showboat Lounge on uptown 18th Street; Neil Diamond at the Capital One Arena; and dancing to the old-time Mills Brothers at another 14th Street club; Judy Garland in San Francisco and, years later, her daughter Liza Minnelli back in Washington . . . I was so incredibly lucky to have been born when I was!
I wonder if today’s kids will look back on their good times with the same sense of nostalgia that my generation does. I hope so. Of course, didn’t our parents wonder the same thing about us?
Are they emboldened by the talk of reduced assistance to Ukraine from the United States, U.K., Poland, and other NATO nations? Or are they simply savage, murderous barbarians, intent on taking as many innocent lives as possible in their mad lust for land and power? And should we even be talking about “they” . . . or just “he”?
A gathering of civilians at a wake, in a village store Grozna, Ukraine – October 5, 2023
While our Congress spends its time arguing like children over which former Speaker gets to sit in what office, funding for Ukraine assistance sits on a back burner . . . and people die. While Slovakia votes for a party whose leader is openly and proudly pro-Putin . . . people die. And while Turkey’s President Erdogan unashamedly cozies up to the killer in the Kremlin . . . people die.
We, the United States of America, are supposed to be the world’s leader, not only economically, but morally as well. Just saying we stand behind Ukraine isn’t nearly enough; we need to back up our words with actions. Congress needs to get off its collective ass and get back to the real work for which it was elected. And President Biden — I don’t presume to tell you how to do your job, sir — but perhaps a bit less Mr. Nice Guy and a lot more action . . .
Let’s see now — so many choices from last week’s news. Which one to pick as my subject du jour? The government nearly shutting down? It’s happened before. New York City flooding? Bad, but it needed a thorough washing. Trump suing Christopher Steele over allegations in his infamous dossier? Interesting, but there’s not much really new about another Trump lawsuit. I know — Cardi B. loves Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt! Really? I should write about that? I admire the Roosevelts too, but nobody’s interviewing me about it. So . . . pass. There’s more about the destruction of Nagorno-Karabakh, the passing of Senator Dianne Feinstein, and of course the never-ending war in Ukraine . . .
But wait a second — let’s go back to that Cardi B. thing. I’m curious as to what this . . . er, uh . . . unique individual might have to say about one of American history’s most accomplished and admired couples. So let’s take a look, just for fun.
“Look — I can imitate a dog!”
First, these comments were made during an appearance on something called “First We Feast,” while she apparently munched on hot wings. Charming. Between bites, some of her views on today’s hottest topics were:
1) Extraterrestrials: She doesn’t believe in aliens. (Well, that’s too bad, because I understand they’re really hot for her.)
2) Her wigs: she ranks them, such as “cute” or “scammer.” (What the hell is a “scammer” wig? Is that the one she wears while she’s trying to convince the public that she’s a real entertainer?)
3) Clean versions of her songs: She doesn’t like them — says they’re “so annoying.” (I can’t even.)
4) Then there was a question about the time she took David Letterman out for a cheese sandwich. Seriously. I didn’t really understand that one, because she responded: “That wasn’t even like my favorite part . . . I don’t even care about that part. What stays in my mind for a long time is that I went to FDR’s house.” Sorry about that, Letterman. I hope you, like, at least enjoyed the cheese sandwich.
“Well, it was, like, interesting.”
From this, the interviewer leapt to the conclusion that Ms. B. is “into history,” including the lives of the former president and first lady. Her affirmation: “If anybody loves me, knows me, knows that I love FDR. And I love Eleanor Roosevelt.” Yes, we love you, too, Cardi — We do! We do! And we know all about, like, how you love FDR and Eleanor! (In case you hadn’t noticed, I have a “thing” about the misuse of “like.” It’s beyond annoying.)
Good news, Eleanor and Franklin: Cardi loves you!
But then she went on to amaze her audience with her extensive knowledge of the history of the Roosevelt era: the fact that FDR was the only U.S. president to be elected four times; and how he steered the country through the Great Depression “while he’s in a wheelchair.” She also got a kick out of visiting the house in which Eleanor Roosevelt lived apart from her husband because, according to Cardi the Historian, “FDR’s mama, she was always around and [Eleanor] ain’t really like that. Eleanor wanted her space. Just like me, I want my space all the time.” And she added that she is “obsessed” with World War II and wants to learn everything about it. Everything!
Wow! That is truly newsworthy — so much so that even the History Channel took notice and posted on X (formerly known as, like, Twitter), “Looks like you may have a history career in your future @iamcardib.” And never one to allow the other guy to have the last word, she shared that with her followers, with a stuttering comment: “OMGGG.”
*. *. *
Enough said. Believe it or not, the purpose of this discussion is not to ridicule Ms. B’s interests, her intellect, or her command of the English language (although she really does provide plenty of ammunition, doesn’t she?). No, what I really want to point out is the level to which our — the public’s — interests have sunk. Stop the average person on the street and ask about Afghanistan (the country), or the purpose of the Electoral College (not a university), or the Polar ice caps (not a hockey team); and chances are you’ll get a blank stare that will last so long you’ll begin wondering whether you’re talking to a real-life zombie. But bring up the latest Hollywood divorce, or the attendance at the recent Taylor Swift concert, or who Mick Jagger is leaving his fortune to, and you’ll be rewarded with more information than you ever could have hoped for.
How many thousands?
Because that’s how disconnected from the real world we’ve become. Once again, I remind you that I am not a psychiatrist or psychologist. But it seems to me that this mass retreat from the more serious side of life could well be attributable, at least in part, to the overwhelming volume of horrific news with which we are bombarded every day, day after day after day, such as the few examples I gave at the beginning of this sermon. And there has to be a saturation point — different for each individual — at which we simply turn it off, tune it out, and shut ourselves down. Then we turn for relief to the simple, the mindless, the foolish side of life — and if it’s someone else’s life, so much the better.
Or maybe . . . just maybe . . . there’s a little bit of the voyeur in all of us. Could it be that simple?
There’s nothing wrong with a little mindless fun, of course. But it’s not the be-all-and-end-all of life. So what’s the solution? How do we face the everyday realities of our world — the wars, the mass killings, the natural disasters — and still leave room in our minds and hearts for the good stuff? Because there is good stuff. Although we don’t see it in the daily news reports, since — as I’ve said many times before — if it’s good, it’s apparently not news.
Oddly enough, however, I do find a large measure of goodness on, of all things, Facebook.
For years, I avoided all social media as being pretty much a waste of time, as well as a source of too much information going out to too many people. But I finally added my profile to the Facebook family when I started this blog last year, as a means of promoting it. And it worked. I also reconnected with some very dear friends from years past whom I am thrilled to have back in my life. And I’ve found a world of friendship, and goodness, and humor, and warmth in the everyday postings about cute animals, babies, memories, and travelogs — all things that reassure me that there are many, many good people out there, doing good things for each other, and generally enjoying life.
You never know who you’ll meet . . .
But life, like silliness, is also about more than social media. It’s about connecting, and learning, and experiencing, and growing. For me, it’s been about years of traveling and soaking up the sights and sounds and tastes of foreign lands. And now that I can’t travel any longer, it’s about keeping in touch with those old friends; and reading — everything I can get my. hands on; and writing, writing, writing. In the simplest of terms, it’s about balance.
And that all makes it just a little easier to bear the load of bad stuff we can’t control . . . even the simple, mindless, foolish stuff. Even Cardi B.
When I was in Prague, it was still the capital of a country called Czechoslovakia. And it was a fantasy world, caught up in celebration of the departure of the last of the occupying Soviet troops. There were people partying everywhere; Paul Simon visited and gave a concert, attended by the new President Vaclav Havel, at the Prague football (soccer) stadium; puppeteers gave free shows on the Charles Bridge; and the Pilsner beer flowed like . . . well, like beer, I guess.
I arrived in May of 1991, assigned to work in the new Prague office of an American law firm that had been hired by the Czechoslovak government to aid in the formulation of its new constitution and judicial structure. I made wonderful new friends; tried delicious new foods and beverages; had my own two-room apartment; walked endlessly through the twisted, cobblestoned lanes of the city; and savored every magical moment. It was easily the best three months of my life.
Strategic — and Vulnerable — Slovakia
I returned home in mid-August, and before I’d had time to readjust to the different time zone, I was thrown for a loop by the first of three major events that were to occur between then and the end of that year. Just a few days after my return, on August 19th to be exact, shocking news came out of Moscow of an attempted coup against the Gorbachev regime. After three days the coup failed when Boris Yeltsin so famously stood on a tank to calm the angry crowds of demonstrators. But things were noticeably different.
Then, on September 18th, my mother passed away. Not an event of worldwide significance, but one that led to a major redirection in the course of my life.
And finally, on December 25, 1991, Mikhail Gorbachev resigned as President of Russia and was replaced by the bombastic Mr. Yeltsin. Merry Christmas.
Mikhail Gorbachev and Boris Yeltsin: Passing the Baton
After that last event, the entire world order changed. It had started two years earlier, when the Berlin Wall came tumbling down in late 1989. But by 1991, events had begun to move faster and faster, until no remnants of the former Soviet Bloc were discernible, except perhaps in Russia itself. In place of a single USSR with 15 Soviet Republics, there were 15 internationally-recognized new nations. Russia had shrunk.
And then there were two more new countries on the world map, though outside the borders of the former Soviet Union. In the wake of all of the other changes, on the last day of 1992, Czechoslovakia was split in two, and Slovakia and the Czech Republic (a.k.a. Czechia) officially became two separate, sovereign nations. And they did well for a while, each becoming a member of both NATO and the European Union.
But today, Slovakia seems to be losing its way.
Last Saturday, September 30, 2023, Slovakia’s parliamentary election was won by a party known as “SMER” (or “Social Democracy”) headed by the Moscow-friendly Robert Fico (pronounced “Feetso”). His party received 22.9% — the largest single share — of the total vote among the seven qualifying parties. Although this is not enough of a majority to allow Fico to reclaim his former position as Prime Minister, it does give him the opportunity to form a coalition government and retake the Prime Minister’s office. He has 14 days to accomplish this; and with several other, smaller parties to woo, his odds are considered to be good.
Robert Fico
In addition, the current President of Slovakia, the very popular Zuzana Caputova, has announced her decision not to run for reelection at the expiration of her present term in 2024. Under her progressive leadership, Slovakia has been a staunch supporter of Ukraine during its fight against Russia’s onslaught. But, much the same as in Britain’s constitutional monarchy, her role is largely representative and advisory, with only limited authority.
*. *. *
So what happens if Robert Fico once again becomes Prime Minister of Slovakia? First and foremost, he has stated unequivocally that there will be an immediate end to Slovakia’s military support for Ukraine. He also vowed to block Ukraine’s admittance to NATO. In other words . . . screw Ukraine. He has campaigned on a promise to work toward a negotiated settlement of the Russia-Ukraine war, knowing full well that it would have little hope of success in light of the demands of Russia that Ukraine cede some of its territory — a total non-starter in Ukraine’s view.
The leader of liberal party “PS” (Progressive Slovakia), Michal Simecka, has said the election result was “bad news” for Slovakia. At a news conference on Sunday, October 1st, Mr. Simecka is quoted as saying:
“The fact of the matter is that SMER is the winner. And we of course respect that although we think it’s bad news for the country. And it will be even worse news if Mr. Fico forms the government.”
Stating that his party would do everything possible to prevent Fico from governing, he continued:
“I will be in touch with other political leaders of parties that were elected to parliament — on an informal basis — to discuss ways of preventing that. We think it will be really bad news for the country, for our democracy, for our rule of law, and for our international standing and for our finances and for our economy if Mr. Fico forms the government.” [CNN, October 2, 2023.]
Michal Simecka
*. *. *
Fico has also blamed “Ukrainian Nazis and fascists” for provoking Vladimir Putin into launching his invasion of Ukraine — perfectly mimicking Putin’s own ludicrous claims.
In addition, he has become a close ally of Hungary’s Prime Minister Victor Orban, himself a worrisome Moscow-friendly influence seated on the border of Ukraine. Orban, in congratulating Fico on Saturday’s win, has said, “Always good to work together with a patriot. Looking forward to it!” [CNN, citing X (formerly Twitter), October 2, 2023.]
Victor Orban
*. *. *
Then there is Poland, whose government has strayed so far from the heady days of Lech Walesa as to be virtually unrecognizable. Despite its full support of Ukraine until now, its governing Law and Justice party openly opposes “liberal democracy,” and is leaning more toward the current Hungarian model. What the future holds for Poland is anyone’s guess.
So it’s not just Slovakia that is in peril of falling once more under the sway — and perhaps the tank treads — of authoritarian Russia. But it is the country in this week’s headlines. And, together with Hungary and Poland, they occupy the western border of Ukraine. With Russia’s puppet Belarus to the north and Russia to the east, that leaves only Romania and Moldova to the south. Is it any wonder Ukraine is seriously feeling the pinch?
Surrounded
What I cannot understand is how three countries — Slovakia, Hungary and Poland — who barely three decades ago threw off the shackles of Soviet hegemony — can have such short memories.
I’m sure you’ve experienced it too: the near impossibility of finding good, efficient service these days . . . anywhere. The concept barely even seems to exist any longer.
What brought this to mind recently was an issue I’ve been having lately with muffins. Well, actually the issue is with the market. No, that’s not quite true either; it’s with Instacart, the service that’s supposed to do your shopping for you. Sometimes it works well, and sometimes it falls short. And that’s because it’s all done by people. And people are fallible. And so often, they just don’t seem to try.
Let me give you a little background. I have mobility issues that make it very difficult for me to do a lot of walking, or to reach things on high shelves. So grocery shopping is not a good option for me. But by placing my weekly order online, my market — which contracts with Instacart to do the actual selection of the items — has my groceries selected, bagged, and ready for pickup at the predetermined time. Great, right? Well . . . mostly.
Now, I love corn muffins. I eat smaller meals — snacks, really — during the day, and one of those snacks is usually a corn muffin and some fruit. My market’s bakery muffins are really good, so I order two packages each week (four muffins per pack). But lately, for reasons I cannot fathom, the people at Instacart seem unable to understand that I really want eight muffins at a time, and I’ve only been getting four. And it only happens with the damned muffins! I can order multiples of other things, and it’s no problem. It’s just the freakin’ muffins!!!!!
Now, they’ve only charged me for the one pack, but that’s not the point. The point is, they’re short-changing me on my blasted muffins. So when I get their follow-up email asking me how they did this week, I tell them I’m missing a pack of muffins. But there’s no online option to explain that they didn’t over-charge me, so I get a reply that they have credited my account for the price of a pack of friggin’ muffins. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!! You don’t owe me any money. It’s a service issue. Your employees can’t follow instructions. I just want my stinkin’ muffins, please!
Anyway, you get my point about the muffins. But it’s not just that — it’s everywhere. Have you tried to find a full-service gas station lately? You know, the kind that used to check under the hood, add air to your tires, and wash your windshield? They may be around, but if so, they’re few and far between.
And the last time I went shopping in a department store, it took me ten minutes to locate a sales clerk to take my money; they all seemed to have gone on a break at the same time. I suppose if I’d tried to shoplift something, they’d have come out of the woodwork, but I thought better of that.
“Where did everybody go?”
And what about telephone customer service reps? I won’t even go into the frustration of trying to work through the voice mail to reach an actual human being. But if you’re lucky enough to finally hear a non-mechanical voice, that’s when the real fun begins. Because this person — for some reason, usually a male — is obviously speaking to you from a faraway land, where English is a second or third language, and where this outsourced customer service rep has no idea of the needs or expectations of the average American customer. And he’s reading from a script, with strict instructions that any unscripted questions are to be answered in one way, and one way only: “Yes, I’m very sorry about that.” Sometimes they’ll ad lib and say, “Yes, I do apologize for that.” I always wonder if that’s a firing offense.
“Yes, I do apologize for that.”
These folks from the other side of the globe do have one advantage over many of our American service reps, however: they’re much more polite. Probably because, although they’re working for minimum wage, they’re just happy to have jobs. So be nice. If you think you’re frustrated, imagine how they feel when they look at their paychecks at the end of a week during which their only human contact has been with some self-entitled American screaming at them, “But that’s not what I asked you!”
*. *. *
So how do we light a fire under the thousands of people working in what are supposed to be service industries? Maybe by paying them a living wage? Offering other incentives, more pleasant surroundings, and — here’s a novel idea — a little respect? It might at least be a start in the right direction. It could work in the U.S. as well.
And I, for one, would love to hear them be able to give me actual answers to my questions . . . answers other than “I do apologize for that.”
He just can’t stop himself, can he? I no sooner label him a “False Dmitry” this morning than I read about more of his histrionic threats . . . this time against Germany and the U.K.
Dmitry Medvedev: No More Mr. Nice Guy
Apparently, the Deputy Head of the Russian Security Council was “dismayed” that Germany had the audacity to give long-range Taurus missiles to Ukraine, and to express the opinion — through the chair of the Defence Committee of the German Bundestag — that “Ukraine has the right to attack targets on the territory of the Russian Federation.” So Medvedev’s immediate response on Telegram was: “In this case, attacks on German plants where these missiles are made will be entirely within the norms of international law. These imbeciles really are pushing us towards the Third World [War] . . .” [Ukrainska Pravda, October 1, 2023.]
Okay, I get it now; it’s really simple. Russia has the right to attack, invade, and decimate any country it chooses . . . but no one is allowed to fight back. Wow! Talk about your bully in the schoolyard, increased exponentially by a factor of a million!
What has Dmitry Medvedev been smoking?!!
Seriously, the man has lost it. Because next he goes on to threaten the UK’s military instructors in Ukraine with direct attack, referring to the UK Defence Minister‘s statement that his country would “expand its training programme for Ukrainian soldiers and transfer training and production of military equipment to Ukraine.” [Ukrainska Pravda, October 1, 2023.]
Well, at least he didn’t threaten to bomb London, so I guess we’re supposed to be grateful. Then why aren’t I feeling it?
As far as I know, Medvedev is not the guy with his finger on the Russian nuclear button. But he is one of the few people seated at Putin’s table, still apparently enjoying the boss’ trust. And I worry that, thus far, Putin has done nothing to shut him up when he rants about World War III. So, is Medvedev in fact speaking for Putin?
That’s a thought that will keep me staring at the ceiling tonight.
History has a bad habit of repeating itself, and that seems to be especially true in Russia. Just check out the several “False Dmitry” claimants to the Russian throne of the 16th and 17th Centuries — but only if you have several hours to spare.
Today, we have the 21st Century’s variants of Dmitry I (Dmitry Medvedev – Deputy head of the Russian Security Council) and Dmitry II (Dmitry Peskov – official Kremlin Spokesman), who seem to be the classic case of the left hand not knowing what’s going to come out of the right hand’s mouth at any given time.
Sorry about the mixed-up metaphor, but you know what I mean.
The Two Dmitrys: Medvedev (left) and Peskov (center), with The Boss
So here’s what happened, going back a year to September 30, 2022. On that date, Vladimir Putin signed something known as the “agreement on the accession to Russia” of the Russian-occupied Donetsk, Luhansk, Kherson and Zaporizhzhia oblasts [regions] of Ukraine, gratuitously declaring the residents of those territories to be citizens of the Russian Federation. Not that those Ukrainian citizens (with the exception of a minority of misguided militant miscreants) had actually requested Russian citizenship . . . but that didn’t seem to matter to Putin. It never does.
Oh, and about that “agreement.” I was always under the impression that, in order to have an agreement about anything, you need at least two parties. Otherwise, you’d just be agreeing with yourself, which seems rather pointless. But this “agreement” was signed by the Russian President, approved by the Constitutional Court of the Russian Federation, and later ratified by the Russian State Duma and the Russian Federation Council. What seems to be missing is a signature of anyone from Ukraine. So, isn’t it in fact an ukaz (decree), and not an agreement? Hmm . . .
Unilateral Decision = Decree
Well, regardless of that one tiny question of legality, on September 28, 2023, Mr. Putin signed a law establishing September 30th as the “Day of Reunification” of those four Ukrainian regions. Done and done! Let’s party.
*. *. *
Now, back on August 6, 2023, the aforementioned False Dmitry II — that’s Dmitry Peskov, official loudmouth of the Kremlin — had stated unequivocally that “Russia does not want more Ukrainian territory” . . . and that “those four oblasts, plus Crimea, are enough.” [Ukrainska Pravda, September 30, 2023.] Note that he carefully omitted any mention of the fact that they had illegally been included in the Russian Constitution in the first place. But again . . . details, details, details.
But False Dmitry I — Medvedev — couldn’t leave well enough alone. Because on September 30, 2023 — the first official recognition of the newly memorialized “Day of Reunification” — he was quoted on Telegram as saying:
”The special military operations [known to the rest of the world as the war against Ukraine] will continue until Kyiv’s Nazi regime is annihilated and historically Russian territories are liberated from the enemy. The victory will be ours. More new territories will become part of Russia” [Ukrainska Pravda, September 30, 2023] . . . thus also effectively annihilating False Dmitry II’s credibility — whatever that might have been worth to begin with.
There really isn’t time to dissect that brief paragraph for its multitude of inaccuracies and outright lies. And frankly, it isn’t worth dignifying with a response. It’s just so Stalinesque.
“Because I said so!”
And there you have them: the two newest additions to the Russian version of “Send In the Clowns” — Dmitry Medvedev and Dmitry Peskov — supposedly working their act in unison, but instead tripping over each other’s tongues. “Isn’t it rich . . . ?”
“I was supposed to say that!” “No, I was!”
*. *. *
But wait . . . there’s more. In Russia, there’s always more.
Without warning, the very next day — yesterday, October 1, 2023 — up popped our late friend Yevgeny Prigozhin (not literally, I’m happy to note — that would have been too creepy, even for Russia). In an interesting confluence of events, “dozens of mourners,” including his mother and his son Pavel, showed up and laid flowers at Yevgeny’s grave in St. Petersburg, where he was hailed as a “‘patriot’ who defended Russian interests abroad.” [Alexander Butler and Tara Cobham, Independent, October 1, 2023.] Some supporters were carrying the black flags of the Wagner Group.
And a Wagner recruitment member posted on Telegram: “He can be criticized for certain events, but he was a patriot who defended the motherland’s interests on different continents.” [Independent, October 1, 2023.]
Before the untimely death of Yevgeny Prigozhin in that suspicious, still unexplained airplane crash in August of this year, I wrote six blog chapters entitled “Where’s Yevgeny?” I had to stop, of course, when we were told that his body parts had been identified in a wreckage on a field somewhere northwest of Moscow. We now know exactly where he is buried . . . or, at least, we have the Kremlin’s word for it.
Yevgeny Prigozhin’s final resting place
But Yevgeny’s legacy is one of continuing mystery. What will be the ultimate fate of his Wagner Group? Will a substantial number of its members stay together, or will they — like the old Soviet Union — be broken into discrete parts? What will their purpose be? Will they remain an independent mercenary organization, or will they be absorbed by the Russian military? And . . . the big question . . . who will lead them in their next incarnation?
For the most part, those questions remain unanswered. But one name — Dimitry Sytii — has already popped up in the Central African Republic (CAR), where he is apparently at work endeavoring to preserve the Wagner Group’s multi-billion-dollar African operations.
Dmitry Sytii: The New Prigozhin?
That’s not a small undertaking for anyone, let alone a 34-year-old relative unknown. But he is not unknown within the Wagner Group or to its African clients. Born in Belarus, and a multi-lingual graduate of a French business school with a master’s degree in marketing and business, he worked first for Prigozhin’s Internet Research Agency (you know — the bunch who were so busy interfering in our elections). He has spent the past half-decade managing Wagner’s corporate and propaganda ventures in Africa. He doesn’t look the part of a Wagnerite: unlike their typical beefy, tough-looking military types, his slight build, dark beard and long hair have been described as giving him “an almost saintly look . . . reminiscent of a revolutionary Che Guevara.” [Benoit Faucon and Gabriele Steinhauser, The Wall Street Journal, September 21, 2023.] I’m not sure about the “saintly look,” but he certainly does stand out among his fellow Wagner Group members.
Wagner Group Mercenaries
But he doesn’t claim to be a fighter; he’s a manager, a facilitator, the guy who handles the finances and makes the deals that keep the group operating. According to people “familiar with Wagner’s business operations,” he is said to oversee “a network of front companies that the group has used to export gold, diamonds, lumber and other raw materials from his base in the Central African Republic. Sytii also directs Wagner-funded media outlets and social-media campaigns that share anti-Western propaganda designed to prop up Moscow-friendly leaders . . .” [Faucon and Steinhauser, The Wall Street Journal, September 21, 2023.]
Not a bad resume for such a young man. But he is not without competition, specifically from other mercenary companies managed by oligarchs closely associated with Vladimir Putin. So, as with everything else in Russia, it all tracks back to the catbird seat in the Kremlin . . . and what its occupant will decide remains to be seen.
“el Hefe”
Young Mr. Sytii has one or two other serious hurdles to overcome in the battle for dominance. Despite his invaluable experience and knowledge of the workings of the Wagner Group’s activities in Africa, he was, after all, Prigozhin’s man. And this must necessarily have Putin questioning where Sytii’s loyalties lie — other than to Sytii himself, of course. He also lacks Prigozhin’s history of connections with Putin and the people closest to him: connections that facilitated Prigozhin’s journey to fame and fortune — and to that last, catastrophic fall to earth. Mr. Sytii would do well to keep that in mind.
*. *. *.
It will be interesting to follow the continuing saga of the Wagner Group’s direction post-Prigozhin, and the future of Dmitry Sytii and others as they attempt to navigate the murky waters of Kremlin intrigue. Stay tuned for updates.
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