Showing posts with label San Francisco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label San Francisco. Show all posts

Monday, December 21, 2020

Kevin's Beyond-Last-Minute Holiday Gift Suggestions 2020, Too Late for Chanukah, and Yet Ideal Even if Late

I wanted to finish this list a week ago. 

Like you wanted to finish your online shopping, but haven't, because you know it won't get delivered in time. And you're not supposed to drive around to drop it off, because you know why.

As today, December 21st is solstice, and thus the shortest day of the year, this will be a remarkably short list of recommendations, with the distinguishing feature that each of the makers is known to me. I do not owe them any money. So there's that, in case you foul-minded people were wondering. Which you weren't until I noted that. Or were you?

Though I personally know these folks, any of them can compete in their expertise on the world stage, so buy with confidence, or bookmark for what we all hope is a flush 2021.

There is stuff in this list that is ten bucks; there is stuff here for a couple grand. Worth a look.

Wednesday, April 8, 2020

The Plague - 7 things Governor Newsom Can Do Better

An Open Letter to the Honorable Governor Gavin Newsom:

On the whole, I've been very pleased by your conduct during this rolling crisis. Those who know me are aware of my three central critiques of you: like many, not using the power you had when you had it (as mayor), mistaking binders of data and policy for measurable changes (I think you pulled down the YouTube videos you made as Mayor explaining your policy ideas, sincerely thinking we San Franciscans would watch a total of 10 hours of talking at the camera), and talking forcefully as though you have said something.

This is me playing the piano at Dan's house for a fundraiser for you in 2007:


This is Dan, another guest, and me looking in the direction of some guy talking.


This is the guy talking.


This is you (when you were San Francisco's mayor) about ten minutes after you blew off my question about MUNI.


All Photos by Mischa Photography (yes, I paid Mischa for the shots)


Now then, here is my terse list:

1.  Brevity is the soul of wit. Only about 20% of each of your daily conferences are new information. 

Keep it to 10 minutes of scripted/unimprovised communication, plus another 10 minutes of screened call-ins (should only be asking new questions). We don't want to be entertained; we want to be informed. You're a good improviser, but we pay you to govern, and me and my professional entertainment buddies, who improvise professionally, script most of what we say.

I turned the radio down to write this during your address, and you're STILL talking. Ministers (professional talkers) talk one hour once a week. Consider that. We appreciate you saying of yourself that you are "long winded" in some of your answers, but would prefer you dropping the habit altogether.

2. Create a single page of pandemic-centric information on the state of California's website, divided into sections with the newest information (e.g. unemployment insurance updates, gig worker updates, data for all patients/deaths, numbers to call for the isolated/lonely, etc.). 

Nobody is taking notes on what you are saying, and consolidating updated information is invaluable, and no California bureaucrats are doing it in this manner. We need one-stop shopping for good information.

3. Somebody told you that your new, pet phrase, "meeting this moment" is helpful and non-divisive. That person is an idiot. The phrase is Orwellian, and off-putting. Be less worried about offending people: keep following your good instincts to bring us together.

4. Kick some ass: the date on the state's unemployment page, I shit you not, is 2018. For those of us who gig for a living, please note the two, contradictory instructions on how to file:






Demote the two persons in charge of the website (one is IT, and the other is policy), and go on a 24 hour hunt for the competent person for those two disciplines already working there, who has written memos demanding that the state do better. Promote them. Now. 

To do this, have your senior staff call people to discover the truth using the phone: everybody in a given bureaucracy knows who is the dead weight, and who is quietly going insane because they know it doesn't have to be this way. Demote & promote, now.

5. Demand that "essential businesses" follow the policies & procedures I outlined here, because magician English major retired piano players can be of use during plagues: 7 Things Your "Essential Business" Isn't Doing

6. Invoke emergency legislation, and place the 15-20% (made up statistic) of homeless who suffer from significant brain trauma (violence or drug-induced), schizophrenia, or bi-polar disorder, and involuntarily conserve them. It is less expensive and kinder to do this than deal with the chaos and damage they will cause in shelters and hotel rooms, and further injuries they will sustain. The majority of the homeless will benefit from just being sheltered for now, and persons who are struggling outdoors will benefit from not making the incompetent fend for themselves during a pandemic.

7. There is a Los Angeles emergency physician getting results (despite Trump's advocacy) with zinc and hydroxychloroquine: COVID19 Combo Curing 

Create a task force staffed by clinicians to daily gather treatment outcomes for several major California hospitals: see if this (or another treatment) is working anecdotally, and see if you can get enough data to make the data though not controlled (i.e. with a control group), definitive nonetheless. You will learn what procedures were tried, what were the outcomes, and see if we can rush toward a successful cure.

8. Well, sorry. It's eight not seven points. At that fundraiser years ago Governor, I asked you a question that I still remember. You had floated a policy that if MUNI (San Francisco's public transit system) didn't hit certain marks of performance, there would be consequences. 

They didn't hit the marks, so I asked you what were the consequences. You hemmed, you hawed, you talked about the weather, but you didn't answer my question.

Earlier in the week, a reporter asked you about your change of policy on masks, and you insisted you'd not changed your policy on it (from for emergency personnel only so as to not exhaust supplies, to yes, everybody should be wearing one). We're not stupid. We remember what you said. 

Here is the new sentence that I need you to say when the situations is so warranted: "I made a mistake, and I've changed my mind."

* * *

Again, I think you're doing a fine job. I think you'd agree that you could do better, and the eight points above would result a sea-change in the effectiveness of your governance during this pandemic. 

Hope this finds you and your family well.

Sincerely,
Kevin the Critic™









Monday, April 6, 2020

The Plague - 7 Things Your Essential Business Isn't Doing

Coles on Polk Doing the Plague Right
Cole’s on Polk Doing the Plague Right

7 Policies That Will Save Lives is a more politic title, but not as compelling.

Greetings from San Francisco. Hope this finds you, dear reader, safe at home, and not watching too much TV. It’s not good for you.

At this point, the main source of new infections are perhaps the places where we all must gather for essentials, food especially.



If you own or manage one of these essential businesses, the chance of you running across this blog posting are slim to none: you hardly have time to eat. But perhaps a customer or employee will share it with you, and you can do your part to help slow the spread of this virus by insisting on these life-saving policies.





The Seven Simple Practices



1. Limit capacity of store to 1/4th of what the fire marshal has posted over the door, enforced by security guard at the door, who asks customers lining up to maintain 6 feet of space around each of themselves.


2. No customer permitted entry without a mask; nobody may work without wearing one.


3. Employees wipe down the keypad after each entry (any approved substance is fine, but if alcohol-based, minimum of 70%), as well as the basket handles, before made available to next customer (make it impossible for a used basket picked up by next person).


4. Employees maintain 6 feet of distance between one another, and their customers.


5. Put red Xs on the ground showing customers where to stand both in cashier lines & specialty cues (butcher, sandwich, etc.). 


6. Get a plexiglass shield up that covers MOST of the area across the counter, and have customers hold their own items for scanning. 


7. Big signs up on doors that are now locked, otherwise hundreds of hands will touch that handle, spreading contagion.

If every essential business in my country (and worldwide) did this, you’d be eliminating the major, remaining point of transmission.

Wishing you all good health and prosperity.



Monday, February 24, 2020

Just Fix It - Teladoc

February 24, 2020

This is a series I'll be writing where I share my invaluable, world-changing insights with companies small and large, who will then ignore me. 


Summary: I've had this app for a couple of years. My medical provider makes it available to me, because presumably the vast majority of things humans need to have treated will can be addressed with a cursory examination, and if indicated, prescription. 

In theory, you schedule a video call with a M.D., who either refers you back to your provider, or prescribes medications.


Just Fix It: Whoever is making this thing has to have huge resources, and they aren't using them well. When I used it two years ago, it worked better than it did last week. That's not how it's supposed to go.

  1. Haven't logged-in in quite some time, and had to do a byzantine password reset, because it insists the saved password was wrong. PW recovery, especially for an app that is very rarely used, should be quick and easy: user name should be your email address.
  2. Made an appointment for 1 pm. Nobody called by 2 pm, so left for the day to do stuff.
  3. Cancelled, and had to call to reschedule for 5:45 pm. To call and reschedule took almost 30 minutes on the phone.
  4. Doc started calling about 3:15. Explained that I was in public, and hoped to hear from him at 5:45.
  5. He called again I think at 5:15 or so, and we got the medical business done.
The idea of the app is fantastic - no reason to go in a room full of other sick people spreading/contracting contagion, when a quick consult where they can take a look at visible symptoms might save everybody time and money.

But again, this did none of the above. Waste of my time, the physician's, and the app maker/parties running it have no excuse: it should be better, not worse than it was two years ago.