Taking sides

Let’s close out August with a couple of things that have been in the news lately.

First, WaPo did a story on the data science company Palantir a week ago, focusing on employee unrest over the use of their technology to help ICE target immigrants (documented or otherwise) in its raids. Coming a week after the big Business Roundtable declaration that shareholder value shouldn’t be the only corporate consideration, the Palantir story might have blown just the whiff of proletarian cordite at C-suites around the world.

Although I don’t know that technocrats earning six figures plus equity and yoga classes exactly qualify as proles, it’s still gotta be unsettling. They don’t want their tech to be used for violating human rights. Imagine.

Well, the subject of Palantir cropped up on the Grace Hopper Celebration Facebook group; the company was a gold sponsor at this year’s conference, and some women were not happy about it. Many thousands of the 25,000 attendees either are immigrants or they come from immigrant backgrounds. The notion of AnitaB.org (which holds the women-in-computing conference) taking money from a company that profits hugely from ICE contracts did not sit well.

I posted a link to the WaPo story and commented that if technocrats shrug off as above their pay grade the fact that their products and services are being used to the detriment of the planet and its inhabitants, they’re part of the problem. I refrained from mentioning the developers of Zyklon B, but that’s my go-to example of not caring about how your cool invention is going to be used.

Well, late Wednesday, AnitaB.org announced it’s kicked Palantir out and returning their sponsorship fee ($30K in 2018; probably $40K this year). It’s a principled stand, and bravo to them.

(Yes, there are plenty of other tech companies with ICE, CBP, DHS and other government contracts—Microsoft, Google, SFDC… Palantir is particularly egregious and you gotta start someplace.)

The other thing in the news is the old union anthem, “Which Side Are You On?” It features in Amy McGrath’s latest campaign video in her run against #MoscowMitch McConnell in Kentucky.

He’s a peach, #MoscowMitch is. The instant I get a paycheck again, I’m donating to McGrath. The necrotic turtle has to go.

So here’s Natalie Merchant singing it. Crank up the volume and open your windows. We can change things for the better.

Feather head

This little guy’s been a regular in my back yard this summer:

I was concerned about what could have caused the loss of his head feathers, though he seemed perfectly capable otherwise.

I’ve not seen him in a while. I hope that means his feathers grew in and he just now looks like the other cardinals.

One step forward

Okay, sports fans—the offer has landed. And there are definitely a few points I wish to amend, so this is going to be interesting.

But it’s real, it is not insulting and I am ready to take this on.

Weathered

We’ve had right much rain in the past month, both with and without lightning and thunder. I shot a bit of video to show you:

But what’s funny is that on the day of one of these gullywashers, here’s what Comcast was predicting:

Gratitude Monday: unlooked for joy

Every time I participate in a friend’s novena to Saint Bartholomew, I find something new to take to heart. Last year, I wrote about the comfort and inspiration I take from the phrase in the daily prayer thanking God “for the graces you have already granted us through [Bartholomew’s] intercession, especially those which have come unasked and unlooked for.” [Emphasis mine.]

This year I was struck by this opening of the prayer for Day Five: “O Glorious St. Bartholomew, teach us by your holy example to live lives of joy.”

Huh. Lives of joy. Imagine that.

I feel like this is the year for joy to speak to me; that joy is a part of #playingtowin. A friend Googled that distinction between playing to win versus playing not to lose, and it’s that playing to win means leading with your strengths, while playing not to lose means trying to cover your weaknesses. This time, dealing with the silliness at my old employer and embarking on yet another job search, that is precisely the change I have made. I do have strengths and they far outweigh the sum of my weaknesses. I’m leading with them.

And it occurs to me, after Day Five, that this feeling of strength is a source of joy, which even the occasional fear is unable to erode.

That sense (even if unarticulated to myself) informed my dealings with recruiters, helpful friends and hiring managers. In the series of interviews I had this month for my aspirational job with my aspirational company in my aspirational field, I approached each interaction with actual joy, which manifested itself in confidence. It wasn’t just, “This is what I want,” it was, “This is what I can do.” And I believed it.

Apparently so did they: I am waiting to receive their offer letter, which the recruiter assures me is working its way through their process. Everyone I spoke with is as excited as I am at the prospect of me joining the team.

Imagine that.

I am so grateful for the graces and blessings of this journey, for everything I’ve learnt on the way, for the help and guidance I’ve received (often unasked and unlooked for) and for discovering joy in the process.

Followed by a wall shadow

The other afternoon I went into the kitchen to top up my iced tea and noticed an interesting shadow on the wall.

Sun was reflecting off the rear window of an SUV in the cluster parking lot, and the rays outlined a shoot of one of the shrubs in my front yard. I thought it was pretty.

It’s Friday, folks. In August. That’s all I got today.

Not grapes of wrath

Back in March I heard a story on NPR about vineyard owners near the Klondike fire in Oregon last year getting stiffed by California wineries whose owners said they wouldn’t buy the 2018 harvest as contracted because the grapes had been tainted by smoke. These growers had survived the fire, but were still going to lose a lot, so it was not very short of miraculous that a bunch of Oregonian wineries banded together to buy the grapes, get them harvested and make them into wines under the Solidarity label.

Something about that story prompted me to go on the Cellar 503 website and order a three-pack of the wines, due out late this summer. They weren’t particularly cheap, but I thought that if I could help out these guys and get some wine in return, why not?

Also, I really like Willamette Valley pinots, so I reckoned the chances were good that I wouldn’t be disappointed.

Then, of course, I forgot all about it—it’s been quite the five months.

Well, lookee what arrived yesterday:

I can’t say I know anything about the Rogue Valley wines, but I’m looking forward to learning. And I’m glad I was able to support the effort, even in a small way.

Neighborhood walk

I was killing some time before a doctor’s appointment yesterday and took a walk around what I suppose passes for beautiful downtown McLean. A couple of observations:

The 7-Eleven in question is smack next to a Starbucks. I expect it’s at least a regional promotion, this dollar coffee, but I did wonder how effective it is against the juggernaut next door's attractions.

Also, this was interesting: “$1 coffee; all sizes”. The last time I recall getting coffee from a 7-Eleven was about 16 years ago, on my way to Lancaster, Penn., so my memory is hazy as to whether it was any good. But who’s going to pay a buck for a small coffee when that same dollar will buy you an extra-large bucket-o-caffeine?

Also—I don’t care how much coffee you can get for whatever bargain price: I’m not downloading another scrape-my-data app onto my mobile. End of.

 The other objet trouvé was this pair of sandals, very neatly placed next to the parking lot of the doctor’s building:

What’s the story behind that, I wonder?

Home improvement

So, this came across my Twitter feed a couple of days ago:

I understand that apartments in Paris are expensive, and that you’d want to make every square meter count, but…

Non.

Gratitude Monday: cooling off

We’re definitely in the Dog Days here in the District They Call Columbia. It is the second half of August, after all, and this is only to be expected. We’ve got temps in the 90s and humidity right up there alongside. Whatever gullywashers of storms we get don’t ever seem to break the heat.

Summer is the price we pay, after all, for the glories of Spring and Autumn.

So here are two things I’m grateful for today: central air conditioning and ice. My bog-standard fridge-freezer doesn’t have an ice maker, and I grumble about having to fill ice trays like my ancestors did. But being able to drink ice-cold beverages in a cooled house on hot days is a wondrous thing, and I’m deeply thankful for it.