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Home > Statewide > Cal Warns Businesses, Landlords Using Felonies and COVID to Discriminate
Cal Warns Businesses, Landlords Using Felonies and COVID to Discriminate
Edward Henderson, California Black Media
The California state government has been reminding businesses across the state that it is illegal to discriminate against job applicants because of they have committed felonies or misdemeanors in the past. Authorities in Sacramento have also taken steps to make sure businesses do not use COVID-related restrictions to deny entry to customers they do not want based on race or other factors.
So far, the state has sent more than 500 notices to businesses informing them that they have violated protections put in place to protect people seeking work.
"The California Department of Fair Employment and Housing (DFEH) announced a new effort to identify and correct violations of the Fair Chance Act, a pioneering state law that seeks to reduce barriers to employment for individuals with criminal histories," a statement the DFEH released last week reads.
The Fair Chance act, which took effect on January 1, 2018, was written to increase access to employment for Californians with criminal histories in an effort to reduce recidivism, among other goals. Employers with five or more employees are prohibited from asking a job candidate about conviction history during the hiring process or when advertising a vacancy.
The DFEH says it is implementing new technologies to conduct mass searches of online job applications that include unlawful statements. For example, some businesses explicitly state in hiring advertisements that they would not consider applicants with criminal records.
"Using technology to proactively find violations of the state's anti-discrimination laws is a powerful strategy for our department to protect Californians' civil rights," said DFEH Director Kevin Kish. "DFEH is committed to preventing employment discrimination through innovative enforcement actions and by providing clear guidance to employers."
DFEH also released a toolkit to aid employers in adhering to the Fair Chance Act guidelines. The toolkit includes sample forms and guides that employers can use to follow required procedures; a suggested statement that employers can add to job advertisements and applications to let applicants know that they will consider individuals with criminal histories; answers to frequently asked questions (FAQs) about the Fair Chance Act and an informational video that explains the Fair Chance Act.
In addition, DFEH plans to release an interactive training and an online app in 2022.
The DFEH also released guidelines for businesses that will be implementing COVID-19 related entry restrictions to protect against discrimination based on race, sex, religious background and nationality.
While businesses have been encouraged to stay vigilant with mask mandates and vaccination verification for entry, the DFEH says it has also found it necessary to preemptively address refusal of entry that could be racially motivated masked as a COVID precaution.
"As Californians navigate the COVID-19 pandemic, the Department of Fair Employment and Housing has provided guidance to protect civil rights and mitigate risk of COVID-19 transmission in employment, housing, healthcare, and, in our guidance released today, businesses open to the public," said Kish. "We can and must uphold civil rights while simultaneously disrupting the spread of COVID-19."
DFEH encourages individuals to report job advertisements in violation of the Fair Chance Act or other instances of discrimination.
DFEH is also encouraging the public to report housing ads that include discriminatory language that exclude certain racial groups, immigrants, people with felonies, applicants with Section 8 or HUD vouchers; etc.
Visit the DFEH website to file complaints.
Coming Soon to Cali: A "Zero-Fee" Public Banking Option
Cal DOJ: Look Out for Illegal Cannabis Edibles Mimicking Popular Snacks, Candy


The president of Cuba says a tornado in eastern Havana has killed three people and injured 174 others.
The Cuban capital was battered late on Sunday and in the early hours of Monday by powerful winds and heavy rains.
A blackout hit many Havana neighbourhoods around 9pm local time.
Cuban president Miguel Diaz-Canel posted photos of himself on Twitter with rescue workers besides what appeared to be a vehicle overturned by the storm.
Little further information about the storm appeared in state media.
Photos posted by Cuban media and Havana residents on Twitter showed cars crushed by fallen lampposts and cars trapped in floodwaters around the city.


The summer is in full force here in Barcelona and what better way to cool off than a personalized 3d printed ice cream!? Our resident food scientist experimented with some homemade ice cream recipes until she got one that worked great on the FoodForm. Our friends at Cocktail Lab were also in need of a cool treat, and they were kind enough to let us use their Polyscience Anti-Griddle.
The FoodForm is the perfect match for printing on a variety of surfaces, and the pairing with the Anti-Griddle was a great combination of two great technologies.
As you can see (more video coming soon) we created a chilled ice cream swirl which was easy to remove and eat with our hands. Lots more coming soon!


My sheep ever hear My voice, and I ever know them, and they ever follow Me" (John 10:27, Expanded Greek Translation - EGT).
Jesus was talking to the Pharisees of the Jews in the discussions recorded in John chapter 10. However, Jesus clearly dropped in a word to clearly let the Church know that these sheep referred also to the Spirit birthed sons in the Body of Christ. Jesus states, "And other sheep ever have which are not of this fold [Israel]; them [the Church] also I must at intervals bring, and they will forever hear My voice; and there will forever be one flock and one shepherd" (John 10:16, EGT). We are told here that birthed sons will forever hear the voice of our Lord Jesus Christ, our Shepherd. The word does NOT say that His sheep might hear – or that some of His sheep would hear. What the Word cleary says is that His sheep ever hear His voice (John 10:16, 27). That is an eternal truth uttered by our Lord, Himself. If I am not hearing His voice, either I am not one of His sheep, or either I am too clouded by sin or the cares of this world to hear His voice. Certainly, there are many other voices to distract us. If we are not ever hearing His voice, there is something that is not of Him in us. We need to know that we are truly His sheep.
Our Heavenly Father has sent the Holy Spirit to birth us into the body of Christ and into the family of God. He desires to have a personal relationship and a loving fellowship with us. The whole eternal plan revolves around our Father choosing us "in Christ before the foundation of the world" (Eph. 1:4). Our Father put his son in us to be that connecting Person to tie us to him for that love fellowship. His Son in us is our righteousness. His Son in us is our holiness (I Cor. 1:30). His Son in us is the connecting link to our fellowship with the Father. The Holy Spirit came to teach and reveal Christ in us. The Holy Spirit transforms our thought life and renews the mind to the mind of Christ that is ever in us (John 14:26, 25:26, 16:13-15; Rom. 12:2; I Cor. 2:16). The Son in us then reveals the Father (Matt. 11:27). The more we know the Son in us through the Holy Spirit transformed mind, the more Christ's love will be manifested in the mind, and the more we will love our Heavenly Father, and the more we will choose things in line with Him. Our Father sent "the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying out, Abba, Father!" (Gal. 4:6).


On behalf of Guarda Group Holdings, I am delighted to announce that our Perth based wall chasing business has picked up 3 major clients in the last month which will effectively more than double 2018 volumes and revenues compared with 2017.
This new business is a result of the ability of Enviro Chasing Services, a subsidiary of Guarda Group, to offer safer wall chasing services via our purpose-designed saws and other equipment. Builders and electrical contractors are recognising the risks associated with conventional wall chasing and acting accordingly. "
For more information about Guarda Group please click here.


We are delighted to share Lola Bowron's poem which has been shortlisted for the Armistice 100 Schools Poetry Competition. Lola is invited to the awards ceremony at the University of Lincoln when Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy will announce the competition winners.
You float in the scarlet sea.
Our blood and our fear.
Hope is blooming like a bud in the spring.
Much has changed since we were young.
Have all been carelessly cast aside.
As I ran among the rows of thousands.
Would we still be holding onto each other?
You lie, in and around the pungent poppies.
But all I know is that the people do not care.


Bolton home insurance quotes for your buildings, contents and personal possessions outside the house from many different insurers all at once.
Leading, independent, Bolton based, insurance brokers for Manchester, Lancashire and the North West. We offer a FREE insurance review and expert advice from our.
The Arkwright Insurance Brokers Ltd in Bolton offers many types of Insurance like car Insurance, home Insurance, life Insurance and even pet Insurance. Use the details below to get youself a cheap Insurance quote online. See where the Arkwright Insurance Brokers Ltd is located using the map or find out more from: http://www.arkwrightinsurance.co.uk/.
Car insurance premiums are falling, The postcodes with the cheapest car insurance. (Bolton) £736.53-4.4%. 108. HA.
Discover the incredible range of new and Approved Used Renault cars for sale at Renault Bolton. Servicing, MOTs, vehicle leasing and Motability offers also available.
Local search business listings for Car Insurance in Bolton, Lancashire, BL1 and the surrounding BL postcode districts.
Wigan teenagers jailed for beating, robbing and kidnapping a 'friend' – A Bolton. a car being driven by Prates. As they attempted to pull it over, Prates, who was accompanied by Joshua Cadman an.
There are many types of lathe machine but each machine consist some basic part which are. car; car donation; car insurance; Lathe; Blog Archive 2018.


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Q: Flexbox UL LI in two columns with fist column content align RIGHT and second column content align LEFT I need help with flexbox ul and li columns and their content aligns. Actually, I would like to use column-count if it is possible to divide one UL into two columns. Flex-wrapper  which holds ul as container needs to center the whole UL list (content), but the first column and second column need to have opposite content alignment. I am stuck on another column. Any advice?
                          (flex-wrapper) align: center

       text-align:right ( column 1 )    ( column 2 ) text-align: left

Fully air-conditioned

Free private parking area

Free outdoor shower

Free barbecue on disposal

Free Wi-Fi Internet

Multilingual host

Free local TV and SatTV stations

Pets are not allowed

Smoking allowed outdoor

.flex-wrapper {
  -moz-column-count: 2;
  -webkit-column-count: 2;
  column-count: 2;
  text-align: center;
  list-style-type: none;
  list-style-image: none;
  margin: 0;
}

.flex-wrapper ul li {
  text-align: right;
  margin-bottom: 0;
  padding: 4px 0 4px 0;
  width: 100%;
  font-size: 22px;
  line-height: 30px;
}

A:

.flex-wrapper {
  -moz-column-count: 2;
  -webkit-column-count: 2;
  column-count: 2;
  text-align: center;
  list-style-type: none;
  list-style-image: none;
  margin: 0;
}

.flex-wrapper ul li {
  text-align: left;
  margin-bottom: 0;
  padding: 4px 0;
  width: 100%;
  font-size: 22px;
  line-height: 30px;
}

.flex-wrapper ul li:nth-child(-n+4) {
  text-align: right;
}

.flex-wrapper-2 {
  display: flex;
  justify-content: center;
  list-style-type: none;
  list-style-image: none;
  margin: 0;
}

.flex-wrapper-2 ul {
  display: flex;
  flex-direction: column;
  flex-basis: 50%;
}

.flex-wrapper-2 ul li {
  text-align: left;
  margin-bottom: 0;
  padding: 4px 0;
  font-size: 22px;
  line-height: 30px;
}

.flex-wrapper-2 ul:nth-child(1) li {
  text-align: right;
}

Wrapper 1

Fully air-conditioned

Free private parking area

Free outdoor shower

Free barbecue on disposal

Free Wi-Fi Internet

Multilingual host

Free local TV and SatTV stations

Pets are not allowed

Smoking allowed outdoor

Wrapper 2

Fully air-conditioned

Free private parking area

Free outdoor shower

Free barbecue on disposal

Free Wi-Fi Internet

Multilingual host

Free local TV and SatTV stations

Pets are not allowed

Smoking allowed outdoor

Use CSS :nth-child selector like thus:
.flex-wrapper ul li:nth-child(-n+4) {
    text-align: right;
}

A: I don't think it's currently possible to do exactly what your asking for using only CSS3 while still accounting for a dynamic list size.
The trouble is accessing column-count breakpoints in css. If you can find the middle element then you can use a sibling selector to change all subsequent items to 'align: left'. I couldn't find a way to do this, but it may warrant further investigation. Here's a starting point: Middle Child Pseudo-Class
If you can get the computed x-offset from the parent (aka left: n) after it calculates the column break then you can use attribute syntax to identify which elements are in the right column. Again, I couldn't find any documentation on how to do this.
I won't say it's impossible to do exactly what you want, but I wouldn't get your hopes up. However, if you are willing to drop the use of column-count and accept an alternating left > right > left > right order instead of left fill > right fill order, then it's totally doable.
here's the CSS:
.flex-wrapper {
    display: flex;
    justify-content: center; /* or use align-items: center for a direction: column */
}
ul {
    display: flex;
    flex-wrap: wrap;
}
li {
    width: 50%;
}
li:nth-child(odd) {
    text-align: right;
}

While this method doesn't achieve the order you want, it does produce the style without the need to modify your html or add javascript. It also handles dynamic list sizes.
I'm actually really curious if someone can find a perfect solution for this.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


Whether you are looking to go on a guided holiday or a free & easy holiday in Melbourne, exploring a variety of activities for your trip that is convenience is important. Find suggested itinerary that covers some of the most popular Melbourne's landmarks at the best time.
Check out the bundled deals for each package under promotion.


This combination tour will lead you through Balinese Temple and Green Rice terraces. Jump into the Waterfall and enjoy the taste of Coffee Luwak. Then off to Ubud for a insightful look into the local arts and crafts, which are at the core of the Balinese culture.
This temple is a local Balinese Hindu temple looked after by the local residents of Batuan countryside. The temple is designed very beautifully, full of Balinese ornaments and the roof temple building is made from the fiber of chromatic black palm tree.
It is a coffee, cocoa and tea plantation in Ubud – Bali. The island is apparently famous for its excellent coffee especially Coffee Luwak which is mainly produced in the Indonesian Archipelago.This coffee is made from the beans of coffee berries which have been eaten by Luwak the Asian Palm Civet (Paradoxurus hermaphroditus) and other related civets, then passed through its digestive tract. Then in their digestive tracts, fermentation occurs. The coffee beans finish the journey by passing through civets' intestines and defecate. After that, farmers will collect the still-intact beans from the forest floor followed by cleaning, roasting and grounding process just like any other coffee.
You will get a chance to learn about the fine arts and painting. Balinese art and paintings have been classified into several groups and styles in Ubud village. Mas Village is located in Ubud sub district and Gianyar Regency, east part of Bali. Mas Village is one of villages in Bali fundamentally identified as an artistic countryside by focusing in artistic of wood carving, here you will see how creative people making wood carving. Celuk village, the place to see patient Balinese artists make silver jewellery. This village is also renowned for its Silver Filigree and gold jewellery with special design and great quality. Tohpati village is known as the center of Batik weaving, here you will observe people make Batik painting.


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Bible > Sermons > Psalm 119:1-176
Introductory to Whole Psalm
S. Conway
Psalm 119:1-176
Blessed are the undefiled in the way, who walk in the law of the LORD.…
I. WHOM WAS IT WRITTEN BY?
1. Some assert that it is David's work. They profess to be able to find proofs of his style and manner, and there is no limit to the laudations they pass on this psalm; but extravagant rhetoric proves nothing.
2. But all the chief and most reliable of expositors refuse to admit the Davidic authorship. The style is far later than that of David. In the Lamentations of Jeremiah there is a similar alphabetical composition. It is altogether an artificial and didactic composition, widely different from that which we have most reason to assign to the age and pen of David. Moreover, so far as we know, that general reading of the Law, which this psalm presupposes, could not have been without the wide circulation of copies of the Law. But of such circulation we have no evidence until the time of Ezra. Moreover, the life of David, as it is portrayed in the Scriptures, seems quite out of keeping with the tone, spirit, and allusions of this psalm.
3. It is not possible to name any individual person as the author. But we gather from the psalm that it was written by a devoted servant of God, whoever be may have been; that he was probably a young man - one of those of whom St. John would say, "I have written unto you young men, because ye are strong, and have overcome the wicked one." Vers. 9, 99, 100, warrant the supposition that he was young. But, nevertheless, deeply taught of God to love the Word of God, and to continually feed upon it. Very lowly minded and humble before God. See the general tone of the psalm, and especially the last eight verses. He seems to have been much tried (vers. 21, 23, 36, 37). His one fear being lest he should prove unworthy, and be ashamed (vers. 6, 7, 22, 31), If we were to look for one in whom the various conditions of authorship meet, we should turn to the Book of Daniel; either he himself, or one of those three noble Hebrew youths his book tells of, might well have been the writer of this psalm.
II. WHEREFORE IT WAS WRITTEN.
1. Perhaps as a memoir of the writer's own experience, and for his own help.
2. But yet more probably for the instruction of others. Hence the alphabetic, acrostic style, which was adopted as an aid to memory; just as preachers now divide their sermons into various heads.
3. And for the glory of God - that his grace might be praised.
4. For the commendation of the Word of God. The psalmist would bear his emphatic testimony to the preciousness of that Word.
5. And for the stirring up of those who should read the psalm to diligent search for the treasures of that Word. Personal testimony such as is so largely given in this psalm has ever great power over the minds of others.
III. ITS GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS.
1. It is from a believer to believers. The infidel and scoffer are not contemplated in the design of the psalm.
2. It is for the edification and growth in holiness of the people of God.
3. It is intensely spiritual. Rites and ceremonies and appeals to the mere reason are absent from it; it speaks to the soul.
4. It is universal in character. Limited to no one period, to no one land, to no one nation, but for all.
5. Its spiritual force and power are witnessed to by the God-fearing of all ages. - S.C.
KJV: ALEPH. Blessed are the undefiled in the way, who walk in the law of the LORD.
WEB: Blessed are those whose ways are blameless, who walk according to Yahweh's law.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


text:
Time Wars & other SciFi Tales
by Gordon Rowlinson
The Grass is Always Greener
Gordon Rowlinson
"The grass looks greener over there," Fred Smith breathed a frustrated sigh as be leaned his portly body on the rail of his front porch. His eyes and his mind were fixed on the home of his next door neighbor, Jones.
The Jones's house was slightly smaller. But beyond that he was falling hopelessly behind in suburban status symbols. Last month, when he saw Carl Jones at work building a fireplace and chimney, Smith decided that his homestead needed home improvements too. He was easily talked into aluminum siding by a fast talking salesman. The siding, while forever freeing the lazy Smith from house painting, made his house look cheap and lower-middle class. Last year Carl Jones dug an in-ground swimming pool in his back yard. Two months later, Fred Smith could no longer stand living without a pool. He emptied his childrens' college savings and bought an above-ground pool from Sears. In hindsight now, Fred had to admit that the pool was a bad idea. His cheap pool bought on sale paled in comparison to the Jones' concrete in-ground beauty.
Yes, he was having trouble keeping up with the Jones's. Even the grass looked greener over there.
"I wonder if it's that new Jones lawnmower that makes his lawn so damn green," he thought bitterly. He began to weigh the relative values of lawnmowers in his mind.
"Bullshit," he said aloud. It couldn't be the lawnmower. Carl Jones must be putting some special fertilizer on his lawn to make it so green and healthy. He slammed his meaty hand on the porch rail in disgust. He knew be was getting further behind. Perplexed as to what to do about the Jones problem, be resolved to sit back down on the porch chair and pop open another Friday afternoon beer. He was in mid-swallow when another major problem occurred to him. This was the last cold brew in the house. He pondered for a moment on what to do about it.
Absent-mindedly he glanced down the street. His envious, green eyes fell on a familiar, black Corvette that had turned at the light and started down the street. The dark car's sudden arrival darkened his black mood. He disgustedly stamped his foot on the unpainted porch. A small cloud of porch dust swelled around his unpolished shoes.
After a nimble turn into the Jones driveway, the car came to a swift stop. Out stepped Carl Jones arrayed in a tapered, pinstriped business suit. He was younger by five years than Smith. But his boyish good looks and athletic build made him appear ten years younger. Jones glanced over to the Smith homestead. The two neighbors eyes met. They gave the other the required silent nod of acknowledgment. The two men were not friends.
With legs strong from weekly workouts, Jones strutted up the walk and disappeared into his house. Smith noted his rival was in more of a hurry than usual, but he always seemed to be moving in fast motion.
After a few minutes, Jones curiously reappeared. Still dressed in his impeccable, pinstriped uniform, he slipped back into his Vette and charged off.
Suddenly an outrageous career idea sparked in Smith's brain. For the past 20 years, he had been a receivables accountant in his father-in-law's firm. It was a respectably paying dead-end job with an office and pompous title as perks. The best part of the job was that "dad" only required him to work about 4 hours a day. As Fred Smith was lazy and unambitious, the job was perfect for him. It suddenly occurred to him that he could crack down and study the new accounting principles - then take the CPA exam. Certified public accountants were always in demand in the job market. A CPA job would be a big salary increase for him. He could leave his nepotism job behind and buy 10 swimming pools.
The briefest moment passed and the whimsical idea-dream evaporated. The many years of sloth and lazy days had forever numbed his mind so that energetic and ambitious ideas could never gain a foothold. He was doomed to a lifetime of under-achievement and mediocrity. Barring some magical miracle such as winning the state lottery or inheriting money from a presently unknown, long lost, rich relative, he was destined to fall further and further behind his rival in status symbols..
Such magical miracles never happened to him. There was no magic in his hometown of Salem, Massachusetts. Fred chugged the remainder of his beer and shuffled into the house. An unidentifiable but pleasant aroma was emanating from the kitchen.
"How long until dinner?" he asked sticking his head into the kitchen.
Martha Smith turned from a steaming pot on the range.
"About an hour. Can you look for the kids?" she asked, knowing he wouldn't look for the kids.
"Sure," he mumbled, knowing that she knew that he wasn't going to look for the kids. He liked Martha. Maybe he still loved her. She had a figure that was as resilient as motherhood and the years allowed. But he often wondered what it would be like to try a younger, firmer, wilder woman. He wasn't interested in anything serious-just a quick roll in the hay-a walk on the wild side. To his dismay, no such golden opportunities had come his way. Sometimes he wondered if perhaps his spare tire beer gut, middle-aged balding hair, and often boorish manner made him appear unattractive to the opposite sex. He doubted it.
He picked his nose as he barged out the front door. Impatiently, he backed his Volvo wagon out the drive. The steering linkage whined and strained as he turned the car east towards the familiar direction of Salem harbor.
Salem, Massachusetts, like many old New England towns, was full of taverns, quaint shops, restaurants and endlessly winding, narrow side streets. For a small town, it had a colorful history. Early Salem was an important seaport. However the most well-known bit of Salem history occurred during the late 1700's. The early settlers in Salem were very puritan and fearful of magic. During a strange wave of witchcraft hysteria, 18 people were put to death. Today most look upon the Salem with hunts as a bizarre miscarriage of justice. The infamous incident put Salem on the map and forever left a ugly stain on what otherwise was a small town's positive history.
Smith drove the little car past the Salem commons. To him the commons, with its black, iron rail fence and shadowy, overhanging trees, always seemed foreboding. Sometimes he got the weird, scary feeling that there were still witches in the Salem commons. The Volvo's tires squealed slightly as he turned onto Harbor Street. Not paying attention to his driving, he started to think about Carl Jones. That Jones seemed to have it all- including a beautiful wife. The young, sexy, good looks of Amanda Jones had long cast a spell over Fred Smith. She was blond and still in her twenties. When talking to her face to face, Fred always found it hard to look her in the eye. His eyes always wanted to look down at her chest.
One summer night last year, be happened to look out the window towards the Jones house and was lucky enough to catch a brief glimpse of the Jones goddess in just a bra and panties. She was standing in a lighted room and had forgotten to close the curtains. The chance view of the near-naked woman lasted only a few seconds. But his forbidden desires forever imprinted the mental image of her sensual body like a photograph in his brain.
He wanted everything Carl Jones had...including his green grass.
"Jones. Damn!" His neighbor was driving him crazy. Smith pounded his fat, frustrated fist on the steering wheel. He had to stop thinking about Jones.
"Jones! Jones! Jones !"
"Damn! I didn't mean to kill her-just knock her around a little," Carl Jones said to himself as he slammed an angry fist on the wooden bar. He looked down at his gin and tonic. "Got to calm down and not panic. Got to cut my losses and get out of this jam."
He quickly downed his drink and gestured impatiently at the bartender. "Another gin and tonic."
The young woman behind the bar responded.
Jones looked around the small pub. This wasn't his usual watering hole. He just needed to calm down and kill a Friday night before he made his next move. There was something in the decor or the atmosphere of the place that was slightly spooky. But he couldn't figure out what it was. It was old but not a classy joint. The Large ceiling beams together with the faded wooden walls, gave him the impression of being inside an old pub during the day when the Clipper ships ruled the New England seas. A large gray cat was sleeping in the corner under the Beer neon light. The tiffany lamps that hung from the coiling reminded him of stained glass from a church-but he wasn't an expert on stained glass. He hadn't been inside a church in years.
Absentmindedly he pulled an envelope from his left jacket pocket. Inside was a one-way airplane ticket to Mexico. He pulled another envelope from his right jacket pocket. Inside was a cashier's check from Merrill Lynch for $96,233.00. Several hours earlier, he had his broker sell all his stocks and bonds. That check and the $3,100.18 cash from the savings and checking accounts he closed out today, were all the assets he could liquidate on such short notice. What went wrong? He always viewed himself as a sharp operator-never one to make rash desperate moves.
He couldn't help but get a vague feeling that something basic was wrong with his life. His life was full of material toys and exotic vacations, yet he never seemed happy. Sometimes when he came home dead tired, he would see the lazy Smith already relaxing on his porch with a beer in his hand. Part of him yearned for a less stressful easy job and a family life. The problem was, after so many years of trying to be the early bird that gets the worm, he had no idea how to slow down and change.
He had always been a hard charger. His first boss, the sales manager for Davis Cadillac, had once told him "salesman are born not made." Jones was hard evidence in favor of that theory. Still in his teens, Jones somehow fast-talked Davis into giving him a try. Before Davis could check on his incredibly fictional and creative references, Jones had sold his first car. Before he could congratulate him, Carl had sold his second car. The kid was a natural. Young Carl understood that people wanted to be sold. If he could convince a customer that the car was flashy and sexy, the customer would be reassured that he was making the right decision and he'd be happy.
His first marriage broke up when he was in his early twenties. At the time, he was sure the breakup resulted from their both being too young. When his second marriage broke up, he blamed his wife's desire for other men. After his third marriage broke up, he started to realize that he always viewed money and his job as more important than his marriage. It was a nasty divorce and he received an unfavorable settlement. Alimony checks for the divorces drove him crazy.
When the Cadillac dealership went belly-up, he tried selling other products: precision industrial tools, mutual funds, and now dog food. Dog food seemed to be a low class thing to sell and he hated to be called a dog food salesman. But he stumbled into a real opportunity at the Wow Bow Pet Food Company. When the regional sales manager went to that big sales conference in the sky at the tender age of 50, Jones was quickly moved up into the sales manager position.
He was at a high point in his life when he met Amanda. Amanda was bright, beautiful, socially well-schooled. Being 10 years younger, she was a middle-aged businessman's fantasy-dream woman. He was starting to think that with this marriage, he was on the way to happiness until today...
At noon while calculating the regional sales quotas, Amanda showed up at his warehouse office. It was a strange appearance. He always discouraged her from calling and bothering him at work. At his warehouse office, she seemed even more nervous. She sat down slowly.
"I want out of the marriage," she suddenly blurted out to a confused, bewildered Jones. Amanda, eyes moist, gave familiar reasons for wanting a breakup. He had been more interested in his career than her. She was lonely. She had found someone else.
To Carl, Amanda's words were like an old romantic "B" movie seen too many times. He had heard the script before. His blood boiled.
"No!" He slapped her hard.
Amanda shocked at being hit, swung wildly back with all her might. Her clumsy half-fist hit him in the mouth, splitting his lip.
Anger exploded. He grabbed a metal object off his desk. Sudden passions pushed the normally cool salesman over the edge. He swung without thinking.
She fell like a wounded duck. There was a dull thud as her limp body hit the cheap office carpet. Blood flowed from an ugly temple gash.
To his horror, he saw that she wasn't moving. He dropped the object. He fell to his knees beside her. The temple wound was spilling blood onto the maroon carpet.
Badly frightened, he checked for a pulse. There was none. He checked again-five, six, seven times.
There was no heartbeat. She was dead.
He knew he had lost it and for an instant let his emotions rule his actions. He had never struck a woman before. In his past, there had been too many rejections, too many "other" men too many breakups, and, most importantly, too much money lost in previous divorces. Absentmindedly he looked down at the floor at the metal object he had used to kill her. It was his sales trophy from 5 years ago. Somehow it seemed fitting.
His cool, quick-thinking, calculating manner somehow returned. He stood up. He knew he had to get rid of the body to protect himself. Like a child who did something wrong and was afraid of getting caught, he peeked out of his office door. Everyone was at lunch. No one had seen her come into his office. Perfect.
All he had to do was get the body out of here and bury it somewhere in the New Hampshire woods. Tomorrow morning, he'd report his wife missing. Simple.
Running to the warehouse, he quickly selected a crate dolly and a standard Wow Bow Dog Food crate. "Alfred Hitchcock would be proud of me," he mused as he stuffed Amanda into the crate and wheeled the crate into the warehouse. There weren't many people in the warehouse. It was lunchtime on a Friday afternoon. There was a truck at loading dock 4 and someone was in the shipping office.
No one would question the sales manager taking a crate of samples on the road. He dropped off the crate on dock 2 and ran to get his car.
"This is much cheaper than a divorce," he thought with amusement as he started his Vette. He then realized that he was acting very coolly and wasn't feeling remorse about his wife. Maybe it was good that one way or another the marriage was over. Did he really have no regrets about murder? He paused a moment to think.
He did have regret. He regretted that he didn't have more life insurance on Amanda than the $5,000 he signed up for. Quickly he backed the car up to Dock 2. Leaving the motor running, he climbed the short stairs back onto the Loading Dock.
The crate was gone.
He couldn't believe it. He looked wildly about. He walked over to the bay at Dock 2. This was where he had left the crate. The crate was gone. The warehouse was exactly as it was before he went to move his car.
Wait...He suddenly noticed the truck in Dock 4 was gone.
Wiping the sweat from his palms, he dashed into the shipping office. Jones burst through the small office cracking the window pane glass as the door slammed against the inner wall.
"Where the hell is the crate I just left on Dock 2.
A freckle-faced kid, about 18, sitting at the shipping desk was surprised and frightened at the same time. He tried to eat the burrito he was holding and talk at the same time. He ended up almost choking to death.
"Uh...yeah...Uh...Can't talk."
"I said where is the crate that was on Dock 2?"
"I just put it on the truck at Dock 4. I thought it was part of his load. He just took off..." A giant glob of brown filling fell out of the kid's burrito and fell on the front of his Santana T-shirt.
"What's the truck's destination?"
The nervous shipping clerk picked up several shipping reports smearing taco sauce on the pages.
"I'm here all alone until everyone comes back from lunch. That truck was going to stores on one of these destinations..."
Jones angrily reached over and grabbed the shipping reports from the shaking clerk's hands. As he he read the destination on the three reports, he saw his life unravel before his eyes. The destinations were Nashua NH, Providence RI, and Hartford CT. Those cities were in separate directions. There was no way to go to all the stores in the three cities at the same time. Without thinking, he dashed out of the shipping office to the Vette.
"Hey-that window glass is broken." the kid yelled after him.
Jones ran to his car. The motor had stopped running. The sports car was out of gas.
"This is a bad dream," Jones said in despair. The crate was gone. All hope of catching one of the trucks was gone. His life as he knew it was gone.
The crate was on a truck going to one of those three cities. Saturday morning the crate would be unloaded into one of many grocery stories in those cities. It would be Saturday morning at the earliest before anyone even looked into the dog food crate.
Sunday or Monday the police would be coming to the Wow Bow warehouse asking questions about the body. From her purse in the crate, the cops could find her identity. His fingerprints on the body and the bloodstains on the carpet were enough evidence for a second degree murder rap.
As he slowly slid down in the car seat he tried to make some quick plans. He was sunk, but be estimated that it would be Sunday or Monday before everything hit the fan. His life was in limbo until then. He had to get out of town. Taking out his pocket note pad, he tried to calculate how much of his assets he could liquidate this Friday afternoon. Unfortunately, he couldn't sell his house and pool on a moment's notice. Jones opened his wallet to get the number of his broker. Inside the wallet was a picture of Amanda.
Suddenly he broke into tears.
"The best of my life is over...I lost most of my money!"
He wept with grief, not because he lost a loved one, but because he, lost a large amount of what he worked for and learned to revere and was the most important thing in life...money.
Carl Jones finished his second gin and tonic and looked down at the airplane ticket to Mexico on the bar. He wondered if he could lose the police's trail south of the border. He had taken Spanish in high school. But the only phrase he remembered was 'Yo no hablo Espanol.' He decided he needed another drink and looked for the bartender.
Jones wondered in hindsight if the strongest asset in his character was also his fatal flaw. His aggressive money making sales drive had produced an enviable standard of living and financial security. But he didn't know how to turn himself off. His cold drive completely absorbed him and had extracted much from his personal life. He rarely socialized and was never home. He bad few friends be could trust, and all his marriages didn't work out. As he was willing to sacrifice everything for his career, it seemed that every dime he earned robbed him of a piece of his soul.
"How about another one?" he said when he caught the bartender's eye.
"The name's Cleo. Another gin and tonic?" She moved over and served the troubled salesman. She was a tall woman with straight black hair that came down to her waist. Gold dangling earrings accented her somewhat exotic looks. The black T-shirt she was wearing had Cleo written neatly on the front.
"Sure. Say - what's a pretty young girl like you tending bar in old boring Salem?"
The bartender smiled. "I love Salem. I happen to be a descendant of the first person that was accused of being a witch."
"That makes you a witch then."
"I don't know much witchcraft. But I recently found some old diaries of my great-great-grandmother's.
There's really something to some of that old black magic. She smiled again and left to get some beers for the crowd at the other side of the bar who were watching the Red Sox game.
Jones turned away from the pretty bartender and noticed a pudgy man walk through the small entranceway. He was surprised to recognize the pudgy man as his lazy neighbor Fred Smith. He disliked Smith. He always thought of Smith as a jackal. Smith hungered for the rewards in life. But he wasn't willing to work hard for them.
�The fact that Smith would bang out in a low-class dive like this shows that he's a jerk,� he thought. He realized with a bit of annoyance that be too was drinking and hanging out in this low-class jerk dive. He didn't want to have a drink with Smith. But it was too late to hide.
Fred Smith paused at the entranceway of the small bar as his eyes adjusted to the light. As he glanced around the old-style room, he spotted Carl Jones half-sitting, half-standing at the end of the bar. He was in a mood to relax. He didn't want to share a drink with his status symbol rival. Unfortunately, Jones had spotted him walking in and it was too late to turn and run out. Not knowing what to do, he flashed a shit-sating smile and joined Jones.
"Coming here to get away from it all?" the salesman asked, breaking the ice.
"Uh, I came here to get away from my family. How about you?" Smith grunted as he slid onto a barstool.
"I had a rough day at the office." That was no lie. "Cleo-A drink for my fri...my neighbor here."
Cleo quickly came over and poured a beer for Fred.
"Fred, Cleo here is one of the last witches in Salem-isn't that right?"
The long-haired bartender looked at the two men.
"Maybe. I've been reading and studying some old diaries of my great-grandmothers who were witches."
Fred Smith was slightly relieved when the bartender moved off to serve the loud sports crowd on the other side of the bar. Like the Salem Commons, something about her spooked him. He turned to Carl Jones.
"I never told you this but you've got it made." He waved a beefy hand in the air for emphasis. "I've got to put up with yapping kids, a father-in-law always telling me what to do and a mortgage. You have a young wife, a sports car, and a good sales career with a future. I'd trade places with you any day."
" My sales job isn't easy." Carl sipped his drink slowly. Let me tell you something. I keep having this crazy recurring dream. I dream I'm on the track team at my old high school. I sprint as fast as I can. At the finish line, I'm ahead and I'm about to win, but the race officials suddenly move the finish line. Now, instead of being a 100-yard dash, it's a quarter mile race. Even though I'm dead tired, I run as fast as I can, and I'm ahead at the end. But now, the race changes to a mile race. At the end of the mile, the race is transformed into a 5 kilometer road race. Every time I reach the finish line and I'm winning, I learn that the race has been lengthened. I keep getting more and more tired and it's harder to stay ahead. The other runners keep challenging me for the lead. The race never ends and I never get to reach the finish line and win."
Carl didn't know if it was the gin and tonic or if it was the fact that he would be leaving Salem tomorrow. He had never told anyone about his recurring nightmare before. He looked at Fred. The pudgy man had a blank, dumb expression on his face. He could tell he was not reaching him.
"Fred, every time I reach a now income level or get a promotion in this rat race, I still want more. I've never slowed down enough to smell the roses or raise a family. Look at you. You're lucky to have a nice wife and kids. Someday those kids will go to college and make you proud. Then those kids will make you a grandfather."
Carl Jones paused for a moment. He looked at his face in his mirror behind the bar. Staring back at him was a cold and alone man with a screwed-up life. He wished be could start all over and coast through a lazy life the way Fred did. He was tired of racing and never reaching the finish line.
"I wish I could trade places with you."
"I don't believe this." Fred finished his draft beer and pointed a pudgy sausage-like finger at Carl. "You wish you were me and I wish I was you."
Carl laughed and turned to the bartender. "Hey Cleo-Do you have any witch spells that can change me into Fred and Fred into me?"
Cleo returned to refill Fred's beer. She had overheard most of the conversation between the two unhappy men.
"Are you two sure that's what you want?" She said.
"Give us your best shot." Carl was amused. Fred was a bit frightened but kept quiet.
She drew another beer for Fred and got another drink for Carl. Reaching into her jeans pocket, she produced a small container of black powder. She added the smallest pinch of the strange powder to the men's drinks and gave the drinks to the watching men.
"What's that?" asked Jones dryly.
"Powdered eye of...ah...never mind. You don't want to know. Now drink."
The men complied and took several swallows. She closed her eyes as if she were concentrating and put her palms on the foreheads of Jones and Smith. Swaying slowly back and forth, she murmured several mumbo jumbo phrases. Then she quickly stepped back and looked curiously at the two men.
"Do you know any other magic tricks?" joked Jones.
"We didn't change at all," added Smith.
Cleo shrugged. "I guess I'm still a witch in training."
Jones was amused and unconcerned by the witchcraft incident He decided to stay at the bar and have a few more drinks. Amanda would not be home waiting for him tonight. Smith was unnerved. He didn't like dealing with things he didn't understand-which was quite a lot. He made an excuse about going home and abruptly left without finishing his beer.
At the family dinner table, Smith was still bothered by the incident. He was quieter than usual and ate more. After the big dinner, Fred decided some television might ease his fears. He settled back in his favorite living room chair. Picking up the remote control from the slightly threadbare arm of the chair, snapped on the set.
There was a mini-series of the Charles Dickens� classic �Tale of Two Cities� on the set. He hated that boring cultural stuff and quickly changed the channel. Channel 4 was an old Sci-Fi movie. He hated science fiction. It always seemed too unbelievable and too hard to figure out. Channel 29 had a crime drama. Fred Smith smiled. It seemed like a suitable way to kill a couple of hours. The vast wasteland of television soon numbed his mind and put him at ease.
One hour later, when he heard the rumble of Carl Jones� sports car returning next door, he had almost forgotten about the barroom witchcraft.
When he slowly climbed the stairs around midnight to go to bed, he felt safe and secure ensconced within the sheet rock walls in his middle-class suburban castle.
It was past midnight when Cleo finally got home to her small apartment. She locked the door behind her and rushed to her room. Something that had happened earlier was bothering her. Scattering piles of paper on the floor she looked through her old books. Finally, she found it-the diary and notes of her great, great, great grand mother. She had memorized some things from the diary . She wasn't sure these old spells would work. Now that she, for the first time had recklessly and carelessly tried a witch incantation on someone, she was afraid it would work.
Leafing through the old tattered yellow pages, she finally found the souls exchange spell. To her dismay, she saw that earlier that night she had recited the words perfectly.
"Oh, no !" she said as she nervously ran her fingers through her silky, black hair. She realized that she shouldn't have carelessly toyed with something as powerful as the witchcraft of her Salem ancestors. She also regretted letting those two foolish men leave the bar without trying a counter-spell. Both the men seemed initially unaffected. However, she knew that when they fell asleep, they would become more vulnerable. 'When a person dreams, his soul leaves his body. When the soul leaves the physical body, it is easier to influence it to return to a different body.
It seemed that no one in Salem believed in witches' anymore. She did. As a precaution, she carefully memorized the incantation for the counter-spell. If either of those two men showed up at the bar, she could lift her spell.
But she never saw either of the two men again.
"You're right. This is pretty sick. But if you stay on homicide for 15 Years like me, you'll see worse." The older Hartford police detective tried to comfort his slightly upset younger partner. They had just come to investigate after a woman's body was found in a dog food container.
"Who would stuff a body in a dog food container and ship it to grocery stores?" said the young man.
"Listen, the creep that murdered this woman, must know that the body will be found. I want to catch this guy. Let's take a drive to the Wow Bow warehouse and the woman's home and snoop around." The older man ran his hand through his thinning hair.
"Ok. Forensics is coming to dust for prints. I've got this...Amanda Smith's address. It's in Salem - not far from the dog food warehouse."
"Let's grab a quick breakfast and then move." The older detective looked at his watch.
"Forget it-after seeing this, I don't want any breakfast "
Carl Jones awoke slowly Saturday morning. He felt strangely tired and weak, as if something had sapped all the strength out of his body.
Rolling slowly over, he opened his eyes a crack. What be saw, prompted him to open his eyes wide.
This wasn't his bedroom This wasn't his house!
He looked wildly around. Asleep beside him was Martha Smith. This wasn't his wife. He went to sleep in his house last night. This morning he woke up in Fred Smith's house.
Abruptly sitting up, he noticed a huge pot belly on himself. His arms were flabby. Somehow he bad gained 100 pounds overnight.
In a panicked state, he ran to the bathroom. At first, he was afraid to look in the medicine cabinet mirror. The emotional side of his mind had already guessed what had happened to him in the night. The cold, logical side of his brain couldn't believe and accept it. Finally, he moved in front of the small, chipped mirror. The face in the mirror was that of Fred Smith. The moment seemed like an aberration of reality. It couldn't be-yet it was.
He closed his eyes and then opened them again. The face of pudgy Smith was still in the mirror. His body was that of Fred Smith. His mind was that of Carl Jones. It was a perplexing paradox.
His first wife had once said that when you sleep, your soul leaves your body. Last night his soul or mind or whatever left his body and returned in some misplaced, mystical way to Smith's body. That crazy bartender last night really was a witch. He shouldn't have dared her to use her magic.
Impulsively, he looked out the bathroom window at his own house. If he was in Smith's body, what was happening with his body?
Suddenly he heard a knock downstairs on the front door of Smith's house. The noise made him jump. Someone was at the front door. He silently moved down the staircase to the front door. Looking our the door peephole, he received his second surprise of the morning.
The face of the man on the other side of the door was his face. A creeping feeling of unreality came over him as he opened the door.
"I can't believe it. That bartender really is a witch," blurted out an excited Fred Smith in Carl Jones' body.
"Looks like we both got the surprise of our lives today. Want to share a cup of coffee with me?"
"Sure, replied Smith as he walked into his own home. "The kitchen is this way."
Following Smith to the kitchen, Jones thought quickly. His plane was leaving to Mexico at 11 o'clock this morning. But now he had an even better way to dodge the police. He was Fred Smith now. He had the perfect alibi! That weird bartender Cleo could probably change them back to themselves if they went back to the bar. But if he could convince his neighbor to stay "Carl Jones" for the weekend, the cops would come and pin the murder rap on the wrong man. He would get a new chance at life in Fred Smith's body. There's the new "Carl Jones" he thought as he watched his neighbor make coffee.
"Jones" reached for the top shelf and produced a large jar of instant coffee. He began to boil some water. "I was really surprised to wake up and find myself being Carl Jones. I got kind of scared so I came right over." He was amazed at how strong and agile his new body was.
It usually took him 15 minutes to drag himself out of bed. When he had walked out of the Jones house into the fresh morning air, he felt he could run around the block without being winded. It was like being 17 again! He suddenly wished he hadn't come back home right away. Being back in his own house and it's drab, utilitarian furnishings was a disappointing let-down. He wished he had stayed at the Jones place for a while.
"Where's your wife, Amanda?"
"She's visiting a sister," lied "Smith." "She'll be back Sunday afternoon." He always suspected his neighbor had "a thing" for his young wife.
"I see." "Jones" poured the coffee into two mugs.
"Smith" leaned forward. "Hey, you said in the bar you wanted to switch places with me. Why not try it just for the weekend. I don't like the way my life's turned out and could use a slower pace."
There was a long pause as "Smith" had uncovered the secret wishes of both men.
"Jones" found his heart beating faster in his borrowed body. The thought of living like Jones-even for a weekend was too good to be true. He thought of the black Corvette, the fancier house, the backyard pool, the greener grass, the better stronger body, the sexy young trophy wife. He wanted it all! This body-souls exchange was his easy ticket to the good life. Unable to resist the temptation, he swallowed the bait whole. He sipped his coffee slowly trying to mask his inner excitement.
"That's an idea," he limply offered. "It couldn't hurt just to try a switch for the weekend. Sunday night we can go back to the bar, find that witch and switch back." He tried to make his voice sound calm and even. He didn't want to find the witch and switch back Sunday. He wanted to stay Carl Jones!
"Let's try it for the weekend then," said "Smith." He smiled. Hooking his neighbor was easier than closing on a used Chevy.
The rest of the conversation dissolved into small talk. Both wanted to get on with their new lives. "Jones" mumbled an excuse and left.
"Jones" was full of excitement as he ran back to the Jones house. Although they had been neighbors for quite some time, before today he had never seen the inside of the Jones home. The decor was much more modern that the yard sale bought furniture he was used to. Is he danced into the living room, he found a huge white leather sofa. He quickly lay down on it putting his feet up and scuffing the white material with mud from his shoes.
Opposite the pit was an entertainment unit the size of the entire wall. A huge 55-inch flat screen TV with home theater surround sound stared at him. Close by were DVD, CD, MP3 players and several other things that he didn't know the initials. He bounded over to the sophisticated apparatus. Gingerly he pressed several switches at random. Instantly, the sound system burst into life. Loud rock and roll music of the Beatles as well as a Beethoven symphony boomed out of the speakers.
Laughing like a mad scientist playing with a new invention, he grabbed the TV remote control.
The TV snapped on and added to the cacophony of sounds.
Feeling emotions not unlike a crazed shark in a feeding frenzy, he left the TV and music on and ran from the living room to the kitchen. As he left the room, John Lennon voice shouted at him...
Money don't get everything it's true!
But what it don't get I can't use!
Now give me money - That's what I want!
The kitchen was emaculate. At his house the kids were constantly spilling peanut butter or jelly or orange juice all over the table and counters. As a result, all kitchen surfaces in the Smith home were normally coated with a constant unidentifiable sticky slime.
He opened the basement door and hurried down the steps, almost tripping and falling down. He was surprised to discover a paneled and carpeted game room with huge expensive pool table.
A sudden, half-crazed thought came to him-the Vette. He wanted to peel out in the at black sports car like a teen-aged kid. He quickly ran up the steps-surprised at how in condition his body was. Almost slipping on the slippery waxed kitchen floor, he ran to the garage.
The sleek machine was beautiful. He jerked the car door open and jumped in banging his head on the low sport roof. Feeling no pain and barely controlling his giggles he fired up the engine. He had obtained more material wants in one Saturday morning than all his working days at that accounting job. The excitement of his free ride to easy street quickly buried any guilt of abandoning his loyal wife and children. All this because of that bartender who wasn't sure she was a witch.
He revved the rumbling engine louder. As he jauntily slammed the 5-speed shifter into reverse and started to back out, he almost forgot to open the garage door.
"Fred Smith" sat down slowly in the living room chair, noting with annoyance that the arms of the easy chair were threadbare and worn. As he waited for the rest of Smith's household to wake up, he wondered what his new life as a family man would be like.
"A child around 10 in pajamas bounced down the stairs.
"Hi Dad."
The short, portly kid was built like a bowling ball. "Smith" recognized him as Fred Jr. Smith's eldest. Fred Jr. disappeared into the kitchen and returned a minute later with a huge bowl of breakfast cereal that looked to be 99.9 percent sugar. The round youngster quickly snapped the TV onto a Saturday cartoon.
"Hi Daddy, " a small voice behind him said. "Are you watching TV with us today?"
Smiling, "Smith" turned around and came face to face with Debbie-an 8 year oil little girl with freckles and a mouth full of braces.
"Sure. I have to make sure you kids don't watch anything too violent."
"Daddy-can I have a raise on my allowance? You said last Saturday you'd think about it." On her face the little girl had the look of a dog begging for food.
"That's right. I thought about it all week." "Smith" quickly improvised. "Here's the deal. I'll give you a raise in your allowance if you do better at school."
"Oh." Debbie had to think about it. "OK then."
"Good morning," came a voice from the stairs. Slowly coming down the stairs in her bathrobe, was Martha Smith, his new wife.
Comparing her to the younger women he was used to was like comparing a small flashy sports car to an old station wagon. Still there was a bit of warmth and cheerfulness in her voice.
"At least she isn't the type that will fool around on me." he thought.
"I'd make you some breakfast," she said. But I need to do some grocery shopping." She wandered into the kitchen and began looking into cupboards.
"Aw mom. I'm hungry" whined little Fred Jr. The grating, bratty sound of his voice was like fingernails on a blackboard.
"Listen - if you give me the list, I'll do the shopping," "Smith" said.
Martha was pleased and confused at he same time. Fred was never up this early and he never volunteered to do the shopping before. She gingerly handed her "husband" the grocery list.
"Smith" took the list from the stunned woman and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Martha was speechless. It wasn't like Fred to show affection so spontaneously. Fred certainly 'wasn't acting like himself this morning.
"Smith" proudly strutted out to the rusty Volvo. He was getting the hang of this family man stuff. With his street-smarts and can-do attitude, he was confident he could be a better Smith than Smith himself. However an hour of trudging around the supermarket brought him back to reality. He was shocked at how tired he was. Being accustomed to a fit body that was capable of running 10 kilometers in 48 minutes, It surprised him that the simple non-strenuous act of grocery shopping could exhaust a person. He made a mental note to get his new Fred Smith body into shape.
Pulling into the Smith's driveway, he saw several police cars at his old house next door. Two cruisers with lights off were parked in the Jones driveway.
"The cops are already here!" he thought in horror.
He had to consciously fight off the panicky urge to quickly turn the car around and drive away-anywhere. He wanted no part of dealing with the cops. Closing his eyes, he repeated his air-tight alibi, "I am Fred Smith...I am Fred Smith...I am Fred Smith." His heart was pounding in his cheat like a sledge hammer.
After a few deep breaths, his cool, calculating manner returned and he could function again. Opening the Volvo door, acting as if nothing was wrong, be reached back and began bringing the groceries into the house.
Martha was looking out the window when he came inside.
"Fred, there's police cars next door."
"Yeah, I wonder what that character Carl Jones did wrong." Placing two grocery bags on the kitchen table, sat down to rest. He was relieved he was safe.
"Fred, I need that turkey right away.� I have to prepare it for tonight's dinner. Could you get it now?"
"Smith" somehow picked his tired body up and shuffled outside. He stepped outside just in time to witness the final destruction of his former life. Four policemen were leading a handcuffed "Jones," out the front door.
"No! No! I didn't kill anybody! I met this Salem witch last night. She changed me into Carl Jones."
"That's a novel alibi."
"Smith" hid behind the adjoining hedge and watched intently with equal portions of horror, amusement and relief. He could easily guess the next few scenes in the sad story of Carl Jones. The cops would lock up "Jones" with out bail. "Jones" would probably make a fool of himself by telling a crazy body-switch story that no one but an avid Star Trek science fiction fan would believe. Some relentless, heartless D.A. would put "Jones" away with this airtight case. "Carl Jones", was on a one-way treadmill-trapped in the unfeeling machinery of criminal justice designed to destroy his life and crush his dreams of the good life.
As the police opened the door of the cruiser '"Jones" began to get hysterical.
"Don't hurt me! Please...I didn't do anything. I want to be Fred again!"
Two large cops expertly held on. They quickly stuffed him in the car and slammed the door. They had dealt with crazies before.
As the car drove away, "Jones" cocked his bead and took one last look at his street, his old home and the life had had been so quick and eager to throw away. His old home-so near yet so far-seemed like heaven to him now. He regretted how easily he had thrown his boring life away and wanted his family back. He realized how foolish he was to trust Salem witch magic to instantly change his boring family life to a more flashy, exciting life filled with material things.
"Smith" stood up and watched the police cars disappear down the street. He chuckled as he walked to the car. He reached in back and picked up the turkey. It was large. The dead great bird looked large enough to feed the Smith family and a couple of armies.
Carrying the turkey from the Volvo to the house, he felt a sudden pain shoot down the left arm of his borrowed body.
"Uh oh..."
The numbing pain got worse. It spread down the entire left side of his body. He dropped the turkey. Something made him fall to his knees. To his horror and dismay, he realized what was happening to him. He recognized the symptoms of a heart attack from a warning chart he saw at his health club. When he was Carl Jones, he had spent hours building up his cardiovascular system jogging and riding stationary bikes. All those efforts at exercise and health went for naught as he was Fred Smith now. The old Smith spent the majority of his time eating fatty, salty foods, drinking beer and watching television. This lifestyle had left his body a walking time-bomb of flab, high blood pressure, and cholesterol.
The time-bomb had finally exploded.
The new Fred Smith fell down on his belly. It was getting frighteningly hard to breath. The pain kept getting worse. As he felt his strength and consciousness slipping away, he realized this was the end.
He turned his head and looked through the hedge at his old house.
He realized he shouldn't switched bodies and stolen the life of Fred Smith. Instead of longing for the things he didn't have, he wished he could have his Carl Jones life back and try to change the things in his life that didn't work.
The pain seemed to ease a bit as he slid further and further into unconsciousness. His last thought was about the grass. As he longingly looked over at his old home, the grass certainly looked greener over there than here at the Smith lawn. That green, green, green grass...
Martha Smith got out her recipes for preparing a turkey dinner. She didn't think it was necessary to eat such large dinners all the time. But Fred liked big meals, and she tried to be a good wife.
Where was Fred? Five minutes ago he had gone outside to bring in the groceries from the car. Momentarily confused, she put down her recipe book and walked out of the kitchen. Opening the front door, she went outside to look for the turkey.
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An enjoyable read, to be sure. Just a couple of things beyond that: The paragraph 4th from the bottom seems jumbled. I'd rather see something like this: He realized he should not have switched bodies to steal the life of Fred Smith. Instead of longing for the things he didn't have, he wished now that he could get his Carl Jones life back. Why didn't he just change the things in his life that didn't work? Also, I'm not sure the "" marks around the names was the way to go. It looks as if something is being spoken. Maybe 'Fred Smith' would be better? A fun lunchtime read.
A satisfying story---nice to see everyone get their just desserts. The second ending with the turkey comment was a bit of overkill though. Now I want a story about the witch.


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The State of State Math Standards 2005
W. Stephen Wilson Bastiaan J. Braams Chester E. Finn, Jr. Wilfried Schmid Ralph A. Raimi William Quirk Thomas Parker Lawrence Braden David Klein
States still have far to go in setting rigorous, high quality expectations for K-12 math instruction. Although a majority have replaced or revised their math standards since 2000, many have failed to make substantial improvements. The review was led by David Klein, Professor of Mathematics at California State University-Northridge, and evaluates the content, writing quality, and clarity of K-12 math standards in each state. Klein and his team attribute many of the shortcomings to overuse and wrong applications of manipulatives and calculators; wrong-headed guidance from the National Council of Teachers of Mathematics; and lack of true mathematics competence among those writing the standards.
Dr. Wilson is Professor of Mathematics at the Johns Hopkins University where he has chaired the Department of Mathematics. In 2006, he was the Advisor for Mathematics in the Office of Elementary and Secondary Education at the U.S. Department of Education. Dr. Wilson also helped revise Washington State's K-12 mathematics standards and evaluated textbooks for the state. He has participated in numerous projects on standards,…
Bastiaan J. Braams
Chester E. Finn, Jr., scholar, educator and public servant, has devoted his career to improving education in the United States. At Fordham, he is now Distinguished Senior Fellow and President Emeritus. He's also a Senior Fellow at Stanford's Hoover Institution.
Finn served as Fordham's President from 1997 to 2014, after many earlier roles in education, academe and government. From 1999 until 2002, he was John M.…
Wilfried Schmid
Ralph A. Raimi
William Quirk
Thomas Parker
Lawrence Braden
Pathway to Success: Columbus Preparatory Academy raises the bar on rigor
Lyman Millard 1.8.2020
OhioReport
The Supplemental Curriculum Bazaar: Is What's Online Any Good?
Morgan Polikoff, Jennifer Dean 12.10.2019
NationalReport
Standards & Accountability
Poverty Isn't Destiny
Aaron Churchill 12.5.2019
© 2018 The Thomas B. Fordham Institute
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Find detailed information on The Ansley. Browse through photos, videos map of this District 11 condominium!
Ansley Above the Park is overlooking the Piedmont Park and the skyline of Atlanta. The units here all have a wrap around balcony for great views and you will.
The Ansley is a high rise apartment block located in the vicinity of Novena, The interior of the units are fitted with modern and quality fixtures and fittings.
Shutze, The Villa Condominium offers a unique residential experience in the heart of Atlanta. The Villa is part of Ansley Park, and is adjacent to the Ansley Golf Club. View photos of The Villa's exteriors, interiors, and lifestyle to see why.
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Learn about The Ansley - prices, photos, maps, nearby MRT / LRT, amenities, Condo properties for rent & for sale, reviews, and more!
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Condo Interior design by our Award Winning Tridel Interior Design Team. See more ideas about Condo interior design, Flat interior design and Apartments.


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Roberto J. Parry (Rosario, 30 de marzo de 1884-Buenos Aires, 1 de septiembre de 1949) fue un abogado y político argentino de la Unión Cívica Radical, que se desempeñó como diputado nacional por la provincia de Buenos Aires y como presidente del Comité Nacional de la Unión Cívica Radical.

Biografía
Nació en Rosario en 1884. Se recibió de abogado en la Facultad de Ciencias Jurídicas y Sociales de la Universidad Nacional de La Plata y ejerció en Mercedes (Buenos Aires). Fue colaborador de revistas jurídicas y fundó una editorial jurídica.

Militante de la Unión Cívica Radical (UCR), fue secretario del Comité Nacional del partido e integró el comité personalista (yrigoyenista) que buscó reorganizar el partido en la provincia de Buenos Aires tras el golpe de Estado de 1930. Opositor a Marcelo T. de Alvear, se alejó del partido entre 1934 y 1943, regresando en la línea interna del movimiento de Intransigencia y Renovación. En enero de 1948, alcanzó la presidencia del Comité Nacional de la UCR, siendo el primer intransigente en el cargo.

En 1920, fue elegido diputado nacional por la provincia de Buenos Aires, completando su mandato en 1924. Se desempeñó como presidente de la comisión de Justicia.

En 1948 volvió a ser elegido diputado nacional, con mandato hasta 1952. No pudo completarlo, al fallecer el 1 de septiembre de 1949 en Buenos Aires. Había sido vocal en la comisión de Territorios Nacionales. Fue homenajeado en la Cámara de Diputados.

Referencias

Nacidos en Rosario (Argentina)
Alumnado de la Facultad de Ciencias Jurídicas y Sociales de la Universidad Nacional de La Plata
Abogados de la provincia de Buenos Aires
Políticos de la Unión Cívica Radical
Diputados del Congreso de la Nación Argentina por la Provincia de Buenos Aires

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


Get in touch with our Clarksburg Party Bus Rental team.
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Mysuru: The more than a century old Mysuru Railway Station is all set for redevelopment. It includes widening of Mysuru Railway Station entrance and getting both the reservation and unreserved counters under one roof.
On an average, every day, more than 30,000 passengers originate from this station, especially to Bengaluru. Apart from these passengers almost equal number of people come to drop these passengers. Every day, the number of people coming to Mysuru station is increasing manifold. Hence to decongest the railway station near the entry point and provide much better facilities to the passengers, the railway authorities have decided on redevelopment. The existing six platforms will remain the same.
Due to floating of passengers especially during the peak and weekend time, the entry point at Mysuru Railway Station which is narrow will be widened by 10 ft on both sides. Apart from this, reservation and unreserved ticket counters are separate. As per the proposed redevelopment plan, the reservation counter, unreserved ticket counter and enquiries will all come under one roof. Once it becomes a reality, the passengers need not move from one place to another to get reserved and unreserved tickets. As per the redevelopment plan, four reservation counters will be coming up at with the existing unreserved ticket counters. Now there are eight unreserved ticket counters; as part of the redevelopment plan, two more will be added. The present parcel office will be shifted to Platform 6 near LIC gate.
The proposed redevelopment of Mysuru Railway Station was confirmed to Newskarnataka by A K Singh, General Manager, South Western Railway. After taking charge as General Manager of South Western Railway, Singh, for the first time, had visited Mysuru a few days ago and held a meeting with Mysuru division railway officials at DRM meeting hall. During his visit to Mysuru, he also inspected the station and in appreciation of its upkeep, announced Rs 50,000 cash award.


One of the major highlights of last week was an in-depth interview Africa's richest man, Aliko Dangote had with Bloomberg correspondent, Francine Lacqua. In the interview, Dangote revealed much about his personal life as well as business journey so far. While many are harping on the surprising revelations that emerged from the interview, this article takes a look at 4 lessons that entrepreneurs can from Dangote's interview.
I think actually what I figured out was looking at the entire African continent, especially sub-Saharan, and saying, "What do we actually produce?" What I learned is that the majority of African countries imported cement. The better way, I thought, would be to empower Africa—to meet our own infrastructural needs so that we could be more self-sufficient.
They say 'Fortune favors the brave' and that applies to business as well. For new business that are scared to challenge the way things are done but continue to toe the line of predecessors, the likelihood of achieving major success is low. For Dangote, in an era where almost every other billionaire in Nigeria runs oil businesses, he remains the odd one out having made his money from other sources.
Being an entrepreneur is never easy. Problems will come from right, left and center. People will talk you down, the business may be slow at times, and many other issues may come up. The only thing that can push you these difficult times is your passion for achieving your dream. Many people see Dangote and believe he always had it rosy. Not many would believe his business was in debt as recently as 2010.
We had already studied doing 300,000 barrels a day back in 2005. At that time I couldn't even fathom a larger refinery. I had no financial capacity. Then in about 2010 we paid all Dangote Group's debts, which amounted to $2 billion…We don't want to listen to the critics, because their intention is to destroy us. We are using our own money. This is my lifetime project. I have to back it up with my own life to make sure it is delivered.
There is no way you can have a population of 320 million in West Africa and no self-sufficiency. So the first thing to do is food security. We have land, we have water, we have the climate—we shouldn't be a massive importer of food. With modern farming you can get 8 to 10 tons per hectare. I believe Dangote Group is in the right position to drive this trajectory.
Beginning in 2020 our major investment will be in the U.S. and Europe… Beginning in 2020, 60 percent of our future investments will be outside Africa, so we can have a balance.
Let's say that by 2025, I'm looking at [putting in] between $20 billion and $50 billion [in Europe or the U.S].
Our business strategy has always been like that, yes. We don't want to be No. 2 in anything that we do. We want to be No. 1. Worst case, we can be No. 2 but targeted to become No. 1.


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Published on iItaly.org (http://www.iitaly.org)
Bistecca alla Fiorentina (Florentine-Style Steak)
Eataly Magazine (January 09, 2019)
Nearly every Tuscan home cook is an expert at bistecca fiorentina, a traditional Florentine recipe that calls for only five ingredients. The steak is typically from Chianina cattle — an ancient Tuscan breed known for its prized and tasty meat — seasoned with local spices, and grilled over red-hot coals. It's traditionally served "rare," but we won't judge if you ask for medium. (Not too much, anyway.)
1 T-bone or porterhouse steak, at least 3 inches thick & 3-3½ pounds
1 bunch fresh rosemary
1 bunch fresh sage
Kosher salt & freshly ground black pepper, to taste
Preheat a grill pan on medium-high heat. Pat the steak dry, and season both sides generously with salt and pepper.
Tie the rosemary and sage bunches together with butcher's twine to form an herb brush. Use the herbs to brush the steak with olive oil.
Place the steak on the grill pan, and char it well: cook about 12 minutes on the first side, flip, and cook about 9 minutes on the second side. Like we said earlier, this steak is traditionally served rare.
When the steak is done, remove it from the grill pan and allow it to stand for 5 minutes, so that the juices are retained when the meat is cut. Carve off the fillet and strip steaks and slice before serving. Serve hot, and enjoy!
Source URL: http://www.iitaly.org/magazine/dining-in-out/eataly-magazine/article/bistecca-alla-fiorentina-florentine-style-steak
[1] http://www.iitaly.org/files/steak-bistecca-meat-toscana-tuscanyjpg-0


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Ute Lemper returns to Cafe Carlyle, February 27-March 3
Ute Lemper returns to Café Carlyle with an all-new show, Rendezvous With Marlene, February 27 - March 3. Rendezvous With Marlene is based on a 3-hour phone call and exchange between Marlene Dietrich and Ute in 1988. After receiving the French Molière Award for her performance in Cabaret in Paris, Ute had sent a postcard to Marlene, who had lived at 12 Avenue de Montaigne since 1979, essentially apologizing for all the media attention comparing her to Marlene Dietrich. Ute was just at the beginning of her career in theatre and music, whereas Marlene looked back on a long, fulfilled life of movies, music, incredible collaborations, love stories and stardom. Ute considers it a secret gift to have heard Marlene talk about her life, her work and style, her love for the poet Rilke, her complicated relationship with Germany, her sorrow and her fascinations.
Six days before Ute's opening night playing the part of Lola in the 1992 Blue Angel production in Berlin - the role that had made Marlene a star in 1928 - Marlene Dietrich passed away in Paris. After her glamorous funeral in La Madeleine, Marlene finally came back to Berlin to be put to rest. Ute tells us Marlene's story along with singing songs from all chapters of her life -- from the Berlin Cabaret Years to her fabulous Burt Bacharach collaborations.
Now 30 years later, after her own extensive international career and also complicated relationship with her home country Germany that she only returns to for concerts, and living the last 30 years between New York, London and Paris, Ute reflects with humor and depth on that unique moment with Marlene.
Performances will take place Tuesday - Saturday at 8:45pm. Weekday pricing begins at $65 per person / Bar Seating: $40 / Premium Seating: $115. Weekend pricing begins at $80 per person / Bar Seating: $50 / Premium Seating: $130. Reservations can be made by phone at 212.744.1600 or online via Ticketweb. Café Carlyle is located in The Carlyle, A Rosewood Hotel (35 East 76th Street, at Madison Avenue).
Ute Lemper's career is vast and varied. She has made her mark on the stage, in films, in concert and as a unique recording artist on more than 30 albums over an esteemed 30-year career. She has been universally praised for her interpretations of Berlin cabaret songs, the works of Kurt Weill and Berthold Brecht and the Chansons of Marlene Dietrich, Edith Piaf, Jacques Brel, Léo Ferré, Jacques Prévert, Nino Rota, Astor Piazzolla, her own compositions, as well as her portrays in musicals and plays on Broadway, in Paris, Berlin and in London's West End.
More Information: http://https://www.ticketweb.com/venue/cafe-carlyle-new-york-ny/284974?pl=


She thought she'd write a poem.
to strike a cord within you.
hovering in the hinter regions.
But it couldn't be done.
only to be channeled back once more.
Cheryl Spinner currently lives in Durham, N.C., where she is a doctoral student in the English Department at Duke University. She received her Master's Degree in English at Georgetown University in the spring of 2010. A native of Queens, N.Y., her writing intertwines yiddishe kopf with a certain kind of New Yawk flair. You can follow her research blog at electricladieszap.wordpress.com.


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Average monthly fuel cost came to HUF 22,000 in 2018
Bence Gaál
Monday, April 29, 2019, 11:00
The average monthly fuel consumption cost of Hungarian motorists in 2018 amounted to HUF 22,000, with 73% of car owners between 30 and 59 years of age using their vehicles multiple times a week, according to a survey by K&H Bank.
The ratio of those who drive regularly increased by 2% compared to 2017. According to the survey, in 2016, only 60% of car owners in the age group drove regularly.
There was some difference in car usage between the sexes last year, with 82% of men driving regularly, compared to only 65% of women. In the capital, the number of those who drove multiple times every week was just below 60%, while the ratio of regular drivers in western Hungary was above 80%.
The survey also notes that the average age of cars is around 13 years, somewhat lower than the official data of the Central Statistical Office (KSH), which puts the average age at more than 14 years. A disparity between regions is observable here as well, with 49% of those who live in eastern Hungary driving cars older than 15 years, while only 29% of cars in Budapest are above that age.
The monthly cost of HUF 22,000 is some 12% higher than a year before, which the survey claims is in line with the increase in fuel prices.
According to the KSH, the average price of petrol was HUF 381 per liter in 2018, with that of diesel coming to HUF 395 per liter, representing increases of 7% and 11%, respectively. About 19% of motorists spent HUF 20,000-30,000 on fuel per month, with 13% spending HUF 30,000-50,000, while 7% spent more than HUF 50,000.
Across the year, respondents drove about 16,000 kilometers on average, similar to the 2017 figure. On average, men drove more (20,000 km) and women less (12,000 km) per year.
K&H also asked drivers what they feared most about driving. The vast majority, 86%, claimed that they were most afraid of another driver causing damage to their vehicle. About 62% regarded someone breaking into their car as a significant threat, and 61% said they fear their car might break down on a domestic trip.
More than half of respondents (61% of women and 52% of men) said they were afraid of damaging their car themselves. Overall, 52% feared causing damage to someone else's vehicle.
motorist
Headline inflation slows to 3.4% in June
Hungary's 12-month consumer price index (CPI) stood at 3.4% in June, slowing from 3.9% in both April and May, the Central Statistical Office (KSH) reported. In a month-on-month comparison, consumer prices dropped 0.2%, after rising 0.7% in May.
Retail sales growth slows to 3% in May
Retail sales in Hungary climbed just 3.0% in May from the same month a year earlier, decelerating from 8.5% growth in April, data released by the Central Statistical Office (KSH) on Thursday show.
Thu, July 4, 2019, 12:30
Storms in May-June cause significant damage
Storms raging in May and June caused significant damage to households, with 2,900 reports submitted to K&H Insurance alone, and with the total value of damages reaching HUF 119 million, according to a press release from the insurer.
First LNG refueling station in Hungary opens
The first LNG refueling station in Hungary opened today at the Szigetszentmiklós resting station of the M0 orbital motorway at the southwest edge of the capital, awaiting truck drivers.
Mon, June 24, 2019, 13:00
Pannon Fuel
TEN-T
Hungary touts ZalaZone in Germany
Hungary is currently promoting its new ZalaZone test track for self-driving vehicles on a roadshow in Germany. Berlin was the second stop on the roadshow on Tuesday, after Munich, with stops in Stuttgart and Düsseldorf to follow.
Wed, June 19, 2019, 13:30
ZalaZone
test track
self-driving
Moody's upgrades K&H, Erste Bank
Ratings agency Moody's Investors Service on Tuesday upgraded the long-term local currency deposit ratings of two Hungarian banks, according to news portal hvg.hu.
Moody's
Sparking app offers new means of modern parking
New Hungarian app Sparking recognizes one's car through its most important external characteristics, offering not only modern parking solutions but opening opportunities to make a range of car-related services cashless and automatic, according to a press release sent to the Budapest Business Journal.
Sparking
modern parking
Dubitz
Hungarians waiting for EV prices to fall
About 60% of Hungarians would be happy to switch to driving electronic cars, should they received a favorable offer, with high prices being the largest deterring factor, according to research by Big Four company EY and Ipsos.
Kapitány wins European Convenience Industry Leader of the Year
Shell's Hungarian global executive vice president István Kapitány has been recognized as European Convenience Industry Leader of the Year by the Association for Convenience and Fuel Retailing (NACS), says a press release sent to the Budapest Business Journal.
Tue, June 11, 2019, 12:30


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Bengt Holmström
Paul A. Samuelson Professor of Economics, Massachusetts Institute of Technology
Leading Scholar in Microeconomics
2016 Nobel Prize Laureate in Economics
Personalborn in 1949 in Finland.
EducationPh.D. in Economics at Stanford University.
Academic AppointmentsPaul A. Samuelson Professor of Economics at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Formerly, Edwin J. Beinecke Professor of Management at Yale University's School of Management (1983 - 1994). Research associate of the National Bureau of Economic Research. Served as board member of Nokia (1999 - 2012). Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. Fellow and former president (2011) of the Econometric Society.
Holmström is a microeconomic theorist, best known for his research on the theory of contracting and incentives especially as applied to the theory of the firm, to corporate governance and most recently to financial crises and the supply of liquidity.


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LAX Gets Interactive: Inside the New Tom Bradley International Terminal
2013/07/03 · By Venus Kitagawa-Stojsic and Sophie Woodrooffe
LAX's radically redesigned international terminal is set to open next month, boasting spectacular architecture and high-res screens fit for branded storytelling. Here's a sneak peek.
The Great Hall is situated in the centre of the terminal. The Time Tower is visible to the right and the Story Board is at left. Image by Moment Factory.
The Los Angeles International Airport is the sixth busiest airport in the world. More than 63 million people passed through its terminals last year alone. From a branding perspective, that means 63 million opportunities to interact and impress.
With the unveiling of the new Tom Bradley International Terminal (TBIT), LAX stands to become a destination in itself. Forget the travel tedium captured in Up in the Air; the ultra-modern terminal has been designed to serve passengers with interactive content and bring some romance back to the travel experience.
A repurposed elevator tower stands a commanding 72-feet high in the terminal and features an array of visuals on an interactive surface that responds to the movements of passers-by. The piece was designed, explains MRA Founder and project lead Mike Rubin, "to become the iconic clock tower that you see in the grand European railroad stations."
The revitalization of the TBIT – the first since the 1980s – is the centerpiece of the $4.1 billion LAX Capital Improvements Program, considered the city's biggest ever public works project.
The extra gates (18 in all), additional space (150,000 square foot Great Hall), as well as upgraded customs areas, increased passenger capacity and nods toward sustainability (the building was designed to achieve LEED Silver certification) are intended to modernize the terminal and improve the airport's reputation for inefficiency (LAX has been voted one of the worst airports in the U.S.).
But it's the terminal's new multimedia environment that's helping to make LAX a model of the 21st Century airport.
The 120-foot Story Board features cinematic shots of Los Angeles and other destination locations. Image by Moment Factory.
MRA International created a first-of-its-kind Integrated Environmental Media System (IEMS) that uses sensor technologies and real-time data to create digitized and interactive architectural elements. It's a far cry from rows of flat screen monitors playing loops of local news and weather updates.
Sardi Design and Fentress Architects collaborated on the content and building design along with Moment Factory, the new media and entertainment studio behind Madonna's latest world tour and the Super Bowl XLVI's halftime show.
The terminal's newly constructed Great Hall, where passengers will mingle at luxury boutiques and restaurants before heading to their gates, is the site of the seven architectural structures outfitted with the IEMS.
The columns are synchronized with flight information, displaying images that correspond with outgoing flights. Image via Moment Factory.
Ten 28-foot columns display ambient scenes of worldwide destinations on LCD monitors that synchronize with departing flights. A 120-foot Story Board suspended from the curved ceiling welcomes passengers into the Great Hall with cinematic shots of the Los Angeles area and other destination cities, which Moment Factory describes as "ambient narrative."
"It's really about bringing people together and making a really engaging public space," explains Moment Factory founder Sakchin Bessette. The goal of the content, he says, is to blend the useful with the beautiful.
"You can just stand there and watch something with someone beside you, and then move on and use the information," says Bessette.
But it's not just about creating an enriching experience for weary travelers; MRA has designed the IEMS to function as a revenue stream so that the platform is funded by private, as opposed to public dollars. The firm is calling it "the first sponsorship program at a U.S. airport."
The giant departure screen uses "visual data" to help passengers navigate flight times. Image by Venus Kitagawa-Stojsic.
Moment Factory produced the "foundation content" for the IEMS (unbranded videos, including cinematic shots of destinations) as well as a media platform through which specially created branded content will be displayed once the terminal opens later this year.
But for Bessette, it all comes back to keeping people enamoured with air travel.
"The journey starts at the airport," he says. "You don't need to have arrived at the destination to start enjoying the journey and start dreaming."
Venus Kitagawa-Stojsic is a producer of audio programming at Spafax's Orange, California office. She has worked in music all her life, including jobs as a music therapist, radio music director and band manager and was the voice of dictionary.com's (short-lived) podcast.
Sophie Woodrooffe was the editor of Sparksheet. She has an MA in Philosophy from the University of Alberta. Follow her on Twitter @dswdrff.
Journalism designed solely around search engines is journalism that I'm not interested in, that most readers aren't interested in.
David Plotz
Slate of Mind: Q&A with David Plotz
Airports as Local Destinations?
Why Don't Airports Have Movie Theatres?
Hotel Everywhere: Hospitality Brands That Travel With You
Branding is Blurry
Crisis Mode: Four Travel Disasters and How Marketers Handled Them
Sparksheet's 2015 Trend Watch
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Shelly Stevenson
2013/07/04 at 2:15 pm | Permalink
Only been through LAX once and it was more than depressing. New terminal looks more like a modern art gallery than a terminal. Kudos!


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Healing Trauma: Beyond Gangs and Prisons
To create lives of possibilities, we need to decriminalize trauma.
The unique trauma of growing up a gang member in one of Los Angeles' gangs has a cure: Homeboy Industries. Brave New Films' latest short documentary Healing Trauma: Beyond Gangs and Prisons dives into the transformational stories of former gang members who have found hope through Homeboy Industries' career, education and mental health services.
"No kid is seeking anything when they join a gang. Every kid is fleeing from something when they join a gang." – Father Gregory Boyle, founder and Director of Homeboy Industries, the largest gang intervention and re-integration organization in the country.
For the homeboys and homegirls featured in "Healing Trauma," abusive childhoods inevitably led to an anger that resulted in their criminal lifestyle that landed them in prison.
For the homeboys and homegirls featured in Healing Trauma, abusive childhoods inevitably led to an anger that resulted in their criminal lifestyle that landed them in prison. Upon their release, these former gang members found their redemption with Homeboy Industries, Father Greg Boyle, and the many re-integrating programs offered through the Los Angeles-based organization.
Mass incarceration is a broken system the U.S. government keeps funneling taxpayers' money into – and it's not making us any safer. Without sentencing justice, people – primarily poor people of color – will continue to be locked up and released in a vicious cycle that fails to address the root causes of systemic issues such as trauma, poverty, and racism.
Sentencing justice means addressing the underlying systems that have created mass incarceration. Healing Trauma: Beyond Gangs and Prisons is the third film in Brave New Films' Sentencing Reform series. The series features locally-led organizations that are working to end generational trauma through education, community-based services, employment and therapy. The need for sentencing justice highlights every personal story in the series; it's a vital need.
Robert Greenwald
President, Brave New Films
By Robert Greenwald posted on August 20, 2018