Next Thoughts on the Dos Equis Virus (numbers edition)

If you know me at all, you know that I am a numbers person. But I cannot deal with the awful numbers being thrown about - infections, deaths, job losses, projections. So this post will use numbers for (mostly) good.

A. Three - the number of additional Mexican beers I know, limiting my use of them in blog post titles to just three more. But admittedly, one of them is Sol, which I recall is kinda awful. Like the Bud Lite of Mexican beers. Don't agree with my analogy? Try these:
It's like the Cella Lambrusca of Wine
It's like the Montezuma of Tequila
It's like the Trump of Presidents

 It's also very likely my clever joke was funny at most once. Maybe twice. Though I still think I can pull off the next one as the Tsingtao Virus (now THAT is a good beer). It's clever, and a political statement. See what I did there?

2. Capitalism, Arbitrage, or Assholery - this one deserves it's own title. Over the last several weeks, we have slowly been able to acquire the non-acquirables that people have been hoarding - plantain chips, feta cheese, ghee. My order of sanitizing wipes from Amazon early March is now on track to be delivered by next MLK Day.

One product that has consistently evaded us is Comet Cleanser. No store has it, Bon Ami, or anything remotely similar. Somebody has an enormous hoard of Comet. I did find a recipe on the internet and tried to convince Abby to make it as a home-colleged chemistry lab, but realized we have none of the ingredients. It has been so long, I broke down and ordered it on Amazon. A bundle of 3 for $23, which will arrive sometime late May. We just have to come to terms that things will go un-Cometed for a few more months.

But then Jill pointed out that an in-store bottle of Comet retails for $0.83. So the seller through Amazon was marking it up 1,325%. Which made me wonder if I had just figured out why stores are so empty. Checked e-bay, and I currently have the highest bid on a 12-ounce bag of plantain chips, at $63.87. But the auction doesn't end for three weeks, so please don't overbid me.

By the way, is this "assholery" or douchebaggery"? There is a difference. Look for my next book: "Assholery and Douchebaggery: A Guide to the Trump Administration." 

Happy ending - my very-non-sad corner HEB had Comet today (literally the eighth place I checked in five weeks). So I bought 2, spending just under $2. Let me know if you need one. I'll let it go for $182.07. Plus shipping, but no handling. I touch nothing these days.

III. 50 - the number of miles I have ridden on my bike in April, keeping appropriate distance from people and cars. It's not a knock-out number, but it comes with two others - 9 - days of rain so far this month; and 400 - mg of Temodar (my Chemo) that I took earlier in April (and will start again in two weeks).

By the way #2, looking at it written out, Temodar seems a bit like a fortune teller from the movies. Not magical like Zoltan, but Temodar, the chemo teller.

"Oh wise Temodar, what does the future hold for me?"

"I see you generally feeling like crap, and losing some of your appetite. Want me to hook you up with my weed dealer?"

D.  $1,119,000 - the amount of money I borrowed this week from the guvment.  Which ensures 121 - # of employees we will be able to keep on payroll (out of 121) for the foreseeable future.  These forgivable SBA loans ran out of money on the first day, and there are about 700,000 small businesses and non-profits waiting.  Which makes me both grateful and feeling a bit sad for those who have not or may not get it.  Forgive me.

And  by the way #3 (the last one) - there was a specific formula for the request, and we actually asked for $1,119,020.  Our bank rounded it down.  I was going to use the $20 for breakfast tacos.  Which you may not think is a forgivable expense, but this is Austin.  Living in Austin means never having to ask forgiveness for buying breakfast tacos with stimulus money.

5) - seven (ish) - the number of homemade meals I have made over the last two weeks - from the smoked turkey soup to jambalaya, churrasco steak with homemade chimichurri and a chicken dish that I made simply because you put brandy in it and light it on fire. I like doing that. Might do that with my next batch of bacon.

My Next Thoughts on the Tecate Virus

I am happy to report I have moved a bit past shelter-in-place-hole. Figuring out Zoom happy hour helped. Today would have been our final vacation day in the Bay Area, so on Thursday we had a virtual wine tasting with Lisa and Fred. Broke open our finest box of wine. I have several new observations about our new shelter-in-place world. Let's say, well, perhaps there will be 7. Sure. We'll start with that.

1. First and foremost, even though minimal human contact might seem like the ideal situation for an introvert, I am clear now that I need some baseline amount of human contact, beyond my immediate family. And cat contact doesn't count.

2. A few existential questions that had to be answered:
 a) Jill wondered if one had to change out of pajamas before one could start drinking wine, assuming one had been in pajamas all day, working. The answer she came up with was "no", and to be clear, it's a hypothetical, intellectual exercise with no real world example.
 b) I have realized that I need to carefully scan my calendar in the morning, or risk missing that the 11 am conference call with a national funder is in fact a Zoom call. Did a quick shave, just to realize that most people disable their camera anyway.

3. Passover started a couple of days ago. Thinking about it, seems like the perfect holiday for these times. Plagues on the House of Egypt? You've got your CoVid; global warming; Cheeto Voldemort, and last December's frog rain. I started to worry that the slaying of the first-born male child would be next. Then I remembered all my offspring are girls. So, no worries. Then I briefly worried about my nephew Ryan. But since he is part of the tribe, he'll be fine. I hope Stacy remembers to smear blood on the door. I think that was the sign to "Pass Over" the house, or maybe that's just to make sure Amazon leaves your package and drives away.
. So probably if you are going to hoard anything these days, it should be matzah.
4. My agency takes off Good Friday as a holiday. Not sure why, but it seems way low on the priority list for me to address. My specific question, though, is in this new world, how is a work holiday different from a work day? And a follow-up question, any body else having trouble remembering what day of the week it is?

5. Kinda related, I am finding that my morning commute seems to be taking longer each day. I have to get up, go downstairs to get coffee, determine if I have any video calls, shower and shave if I do (and usually even if I don't - don't want to be voted out of the house these days); then walk the few steps to the computer room where I have set up my office. Not sure why this seems to be taking more time every day. Damn cat traffic in the hallway.

6. For a minute, I felt like full-on frontier man. My brother sent us a smoked turkey from the New Braunfels Smokehouse. OK, I didn't raise the turkey, kill it, smoke it, wrap it, box it, and deliver it. But, after I removed the meat, I simmered the carcass with some veggies and made a smoked turkey broth, that I them used to make creamy smoked turkey soup with wild rice. Admittedly, I didn't grow any of the vegetables or rice. Basically, I boiled a turkey carcass. AND - I have now been able to get TWO curbside appointments at HEB. I may be over estimating my self sufficiency. But there are five cherry tomatoes in my garden that will be ready within ten days or so.

I will have more to say on the Dos Equis virus later, including how proud I am to live in a state that makes sure churches and gun stores are deemed essential businesses, but are going to the mat trying to close clinics that provide abortion services because they are "non-essential."

Have to go to my mantra: " At least we are still not Florida. At least we are still not Florida."

Some Initial Thoughts on the Bohemia Virus

Have to start with the unpleasant truth.  Several things added up this week to make me a very grumpy person.  First, this third round of max bonus chemo was harder than the second, and I’ve felt crappy for the last week. Small win - I am now sure I am in the experimental and not control group.  Though to be fair, I’m not in a study, so that wasn’t actually a question.  Being cooped up in the house was less than amazing.  Rainy weekend kept me off my bike, which (interspersed with margaritas) is my recommended treatment plan.  Plus of course the monthly poison.  And finally, there is the whole global pandemic with possibly millions dying.  So yes, I know why I was grumpy, but it still does not excuse me being a shelter-in-place-hole.  Especially since Jill and the girls are the ones who have to put up with me.  Was finally able to ride today, and it really does make things better.

While it remains to be seen if the CARES Act will make a difference, I saw pretty quickly the possibilities. SBA loans to help small businesses and nonprofits keep people on payroll opened Friday.  I applied, and by Sunday had been awarded a $1,119,020 loan that is 100% forgivable if I keep all 121 people employed through June.  Going to use the $20 for breakfast tacos.  Truthfully, that doesn’t suck.

And on a roll, I had an instinct that H-E-B couldn’t possibly have every single curbside appointment filled till Thanksgiving. So I checked at various times, and lo and behold, at 11 pm tonight a spot opened up for tomorrow afternoon.  I grabbed it and filled my cart with the max 75 items.  Honestly, I was so surprised, and the app kept telling me my appointment was going to expire in 15, then 10, then 5 minutes.  So I ordered a bunch of random things, and plan to be pleasantly surprised (I hope).  The only thing I actually remember is plantain chips. They had them!  Yes, these are for a meal I made three weeks ago, but I was going to get them, dammit.  Though I do expect calls for things not available, and substitutions I don’t want. “I couldn’t find plantain chips so I got planter’s nuts.”  But I’m in!  And I plan to tip $50, though I might need to tape that to the hatchback to maintain appropriate social distance.  And that is a lot of quarters.

To Fool or not to Fool

E-mail to my leadership team this morning:

All,

As Jill pointed out to me this morning, April Fool's Day is my holiday.  I decorate the house, send out cards, and have a big family gathering.

With CoVid, I can't do any of that, and likely will just sit at home tonight, enjoying my greatly increased broadband speed and drinking a dos equis.

I do want to reserve the right to revisit the holiday at some time in the future.  I'm not going to say when, but you'll know when it happens.

Hope you are all having a lovely holiday.

--Russell

I actually think this is more effective than last year's attempt.  Now, they will be on edge for the remainder of the year.  You decide.  Here is what they got last year.  It was my first 4/1 with the team, but the problem was that I started the previous July.  Nine months in, and this really fooled no one.

All,

It was so great to have most of us together last week for the board meeting.  It got me thinking how amazing it would be if we were all in one place all of the time.

I know that in the past RST has had discussions about where our administrative offices should be.  There are pros and cons of Dallas and of Austin.  Over the weekend, I did a lot of thinking and a bunch of research.  I think I came up with the perfect solution.

We are Refugee Services of Texas, so we need to be able to serve the whole state.  I thought to myself, why not move our administrative offices to the geographic center of the state?  Some of you heard me joking about moving to Waco.  I'm not talking about Waco.  I'm talking about Brady, Texas.

Brady is the closest town to the geographic center of Texas (map attached).  It's only 227 miles to Dallas (196 to Fort Worth!), 128 to Austin, 287 to Houston, and 380 to Amarillo.  All of those are easy drives.  And if people did need to fly, the San Angelo regional airport is only 80 miles away.

There is a lot of rentable space in town.  I contacted Jolene, the one realtor in Brady, and she told me that the Piggly Wiggly building has been vacant for more than five years, and thinks we can get it way below market rate.

Have I mentioned the annual World Championship Barbeque Goat Cook-Off held every Labor Day weekend?  Enough said.  And one Yelp reviewer says that you haven't lived until you've had the smothered chicken fried steak at Boondocks, right in the heart of downtown Brady.

For those of you with little ones, Brady has all three levels of school: Brady Elementary, Brady Middle, and Brady High.  I remember how difficult it was trying to find the best schools for my kids, so I envy having only one choice.  And all three schools have been consistently ranked "Acceptable."

I am not sure if any of the 5,523 people are refugees, but we could look at starting to resettle in the Brady metroplex.  Brady housed a German prisoner of war camp in WWII, so they have some history of welcoming displaced individuals.

It's a farming and ranching community.  Two of the primary industries is mohair-combing and sand mining.  I bet those pay at least minimum wage, should we be able to resettle folks in the community.  

Brady has a fascinating history.  This is just a little bit from the Wikipedia page (they have a wikipedia page!).  I recommend the full article.  

"When the area was settled in the 1870s, the community was named Brady City after Brady Creek, which runs through town. The name was shortened to Brady when the town was incorporated in 1906. In 1787–88, Spanish explorer José Mares crossed the creek near the site of present Brady. Henry and Nancy Fulcher, the first settlers on Brady Creek, donated land for the townsite in the mid-1870s. Allison Ogden and his father-in-law, Ben Henton, built a store in 1875. A post office opened in 1876. After residents of McCulloch County chose Brady as county seat on May 15, 1876, the town grew fairly quickly. Brady had about 50 residents in 1877, and a stone courthouse was completed in 1878."

I am thinking that it may take us a bit to move all of our operations to Brady.  My initial plan is to try to get us all settled in our new administrative home within one year - by April 1, 2020.

I hope you are as excited as I am!

Happy April.

--Russell