What Does the Kamala Harris Pick Signal to the Sanders-Warren Wing of the Party?

In one of the least surprising moments of what has so far been an uncommonly anticlimactic race, Joe Biden on Tuesday did what everyone was already expecting him to do: he chose Senator Kamala Harris of California as his running mate.

The pick comes on the heels of a slew of leaks and on- and off-the-record comments from Biden allies wishing to trash Harris and downplay her chances in the press. The Florida Democratic donor John Morgan lamented to CNBC that Harris “would be running for president the day of the inauguration”. Former Senator Chris Dodd complained that Harris showed “no remorse” after attacking Biden based on his racial justice record. In retrospect, these comments in the media read less like realistic dispatches from within the VP vetting process than attempts to influence it from the outside, perhaps from Biden allies still angry at Harris over the primary. That anger, evidently isn’t shared by the candidate himself.

But more than evidence of mended fences between Biden and Harris, the pick reflects a strategic decision over which sections of voters, and which factions of the Democratic party, the Biden team feels it needs to prioritize in order to win in November. And with the Harris pick, they are resoundingly signaling that it is the centrist and pragmatic voters – particularly older Black voters – and not the younger progressive left, that they feel they have the most to gain from appealing to.

Harris was the early frontrunner for the VP slot in part precisely because her political record reveals only spotty and inconsistent ideological commitments. During her own presidential bid in the primary cycle, she moved left on Medicare for All, Bernie Sanders’ signature issue, but then backtracked right. She claimed to have evolved her thinking on law enforcement and incarceration in one instance, then touted her record as a prosecutor in another. Harris was by no means alone in this ideological shape shifting: she was no more willing to alter her positions for the sake of convenience than, say Mayor Pete Buttigieg. But the shifts signaled that what Harris was selling to the American people was not so much an ideological commitment, like Sanders and Elizabeth Warren to her left, or Amy Klobuchar to her right. What Harris was running on was more cultural and affective. She was not selling a policy platform. She was selling her character; namely, the carefully projected impression that she was thick-skinned, intelligent and unwilling to suffer fools.

For Biden, himself light on policy and heavy on appeals to his own affable familiarity, presumed competence and promises to return the country to a pre-Trump “normal”, this made Harris a good fit. But after a heated, if not especially close, last few months of the primary contest against the party’s progressive standard bearer, Bernie Sanders, there was one line of thinking that posited that a Harris vice-presidential nomination would be risky. As a noncommittal but generally center-left contender, Harris would potentially alienate and certainly fail to excite the younger, more progressive voters who had backed Sanders. Could Biden afford to turn off Bernie’s base by not picking a progressive?

Evidently, he thinks he can, and there is some evidence that he’s right. Though the left raised huge amounts of money for the Sanders campaign, they couldn’t drum up votes: after a long and contentious primary season, Biden won overwhelmingly, in spite of Sanders’ superior fundraising. Bernie’s failure – namely, his campaign’s inability to transform money and significant online enthusiasm into actual voter turnout – may have undercut the left’s ability to build leverage more broadly. It didn’t help matters that Bernie’s base, though enthusiastic, was hostile to overtures from other candidates: when Elizabeth Warren made gestures to Sanders voters, she was met with vitriol, derision and misogynist contempt. Democratic strategists may have begun to understand the Sanders base as an unreliable voting block, one that doesn’t deliver turnout and can’t take yes for an answer. From that perspective, the Biden campaign had few incentives to pick a progressive running mate or to make many policy overtures to the party’s left wing.

But perhaps the more morally grievous downside to the Harris pick lies in her potential to alienate the emergent movement against police brutality that has gained traction this summer in the wake of the murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis. The filmed killing ignited protests that the New York Times says were likely the largest popular demonstrations in American history. Under the rallying cry of Black Lives Matter, these uprisings crystallized a growing distrust of the police and a consensus around racial justice issues that is emerging in a large and surprisingly multiracial contingent of the country. The choice of Harris – a former prosecutor and attorney general whose career has included uncomfortably collegial relationships with the police and a comfort with incarceration as a punishment for even non-violent crimes – risks appearing to dismiss this movement’s righteous and morally urgent demands. But here, too, is a place where the Biden team may feel comfortable taking the left for granted: in a contest against the sadistic and racist Donald Trump, Black Lives Matter protesters have no meaningful choice except to support him.

And yet in spite of a policy history that places her in opposition to the policy demands of the country’s largest and most energetic movements for racial justice, Harris’ vice-presidential nomination is also seen as an acknowledgment of the outsized role played by Black voters, and particularly Black women voters, in Democratic electoral victories.

Despite pat political punditry that says otherwise, the Black vote is not monolithic, and nor is the progressive wing of the party uniformly white. Within the Democratic party, ideological differences fall much more neatly along generational lines than racial ones, and younger Black voters often have very different political instincts than their parents and grandparents. To understand the factional divide within the Democratic party as being between progressive voters, on the one hand, and Black voters, on the other, would be to fundamentally misdiagnose the issue.

But the Harris pick is part of a growing consensus among establishment Democratic strategists that many Democrats owe their electoral victories to the party’s most reliable constituency: the older Black voter, and specifically, the older Black woman voter. It is turnout among such voters that has propelled Democratic candidates to victory in many recent contests, but for too long the party has seemed to take them for granted, relying on the growing racism of the Republican party as a guarantee of Black votes they presumed they did not have to earn. The Harris pick can be seen as an attempt, if a relatively symbolic and shortsighted one, to correct that neglect by putting a Black woman at the center of a party they have long helped to maintain.

Tactically, it’s not hard to see why the Biden team thought that attempting to appeal to Black voters would be a winning strategy. Older Black voters in particular have been reliably loyal to the Democratic party, and are crucially much more likely to vote than younger people of all races. Perhaps this is because, given America’s long history of state-sanctioned racist violence and state-enacted racist neglect, these voters feel they have more on the line. With much to lose, some older Black voters find themselves picking candidates for tactical reasons more so than ideological ones. In the primary, Biden won them by promising them that he could win. It was their support that gave him the nomination.

by Moira Donegan, The Guardian | Read more:
Image: Bebeto Matthews/AP
[ed. Same as it ever was.]

Dolly Parton: 'Of Course Black Lives Matter!'

US country music star Dolly Parton has come out in support of Black Lives Matter, in a rare comment on politics.

She told Billboard Magazine: "Do we think our little white asses are the only ones that matter? No!"

With a broad fan base that spans the right and the left, the singer generally eschews political subjects.

Her comments come amid a nationwide reckoning on race that has impacted all of US society, including country music.

Although Ms Parton has not attended Black Lives Matter marches, she said she supported anti-racism activists' right to protest.

"I understand people having to make themselves known and felt and seen," she told the music magazine.

What did Dolly say about Dixie?

The entertainment mogul - who owns Dollywood amusement park in her home state of Tennessee as well as other attractions - also spoke about her decision in 2018 to drop the "Dixie" from her Dixie Stampede attraction.

A 2017 article in Slate critiqued Ms Parton's attraction, calling it a "lily-white kitsch extravaganza".

"Dixie" was often used as a nickname for the southern states that made up the Confederate States of America during the US Civil War era.

"There's such a thing as innocent ignorance, and so many of us are guilty of that," she told Billboard. "When they said 'Dixie' was an offensive word, I thought, 'Well, I don't want to offend anybody. This is a business. We'll just call it The Stampede.'

"As soon as you realise that [something] is a problem, you should fix it. Don't be a dumbass. That's where my heart is. I would never dream of hurting anybody on purpose."

by BBC |  Read more:

Image: Getty

[ed. How refreshing to see someone say "I would never dream of hurting someone on purpose". How many people can honestly say that about themselves these days.]

via: lost

Let Russ Cook

Russell Wilson didn’t don an apron and a chef’s hat for his first Zoom news conference since training camp began. But the Seahawks’ quarterback didn’t exactly slam shut the oven door on the Twitter sentiment that boiled throughout the offseason:

Let Russ Cook.

For the uninitiated, that phrase, preceded by a hashtag, is a plea to Pete Carroll to take the shackles off Wilson. To lessen the coach’s long-standing reliance on the running game in order to accentuate the team’s best asset — Wilson with the ball in his hands.

Wilson, of course, is far too much the diplomat to ever state that so directly. In response to the question of whether he ever retweeted a #LetRussCook missive, Wilson laughed and said, “No, I never retweeted it.”

But when asked Thursday if he agreed with the sentiment that he needed to be involved sooner, and at a higher pace, in the Seahawks’ offense, Wilson clicked the metaphorical “like” button.

“Yeah, I definitely think so,’’ he said. “I mean, rather than us having to be in the fourth quarter to be able to make stuff happen. I think we have a crazy stat of 56 and 0 when we have the lead by halftime. I think getting ahead is the key.”

The stat is actually that the Seahawks are 57-0 when leading by four or more points at halftime since Wilson took over as starting quarterback in 2012. Last year in many ways was a historical outlier; they won six games when trailing at halftime — tied for the second-highest total of any team since the 1970 merger.

Many of those wins were achieved by finally turning Wilson loose in the fourth quarter, when the situation got dire. In many of their close losses, they failed to execute a similar blueprint — including the one that ended their season, a 28-23 playoff defeat to Green Bay in which the Seahawks trailed 28-10 midway through the third quarter before Wilson was unleashed.

Logic and a decades-long body of statistical evidence in the NFL says that there’s going to be a regression to the mean when it comes to second-half rallies to victory. As legendary as Wilson has become in fourth quarter and overtime comebacks, it would behoove them to stop relying so heavily on his late magic.

All the #LetRussCook movement is saying, if I’m interpreting it correctly, is let him weave some magic early, too. And then you might not need him to pull a win out of his hat.

by Larry Stone, Seattle Times |  Read more:

Image: John Froschauer/AP
[ed. It's understandable management would want to protect their (very large) investment, but every Seahawks fan has been saying this for years. Russ is probably the best running quarterback in the league, let him use all his talents.]

Small Town Colleges May Pose a Public Health Threat

There's a lot riding on a kickoff set for 6 p.m. Saturday, Sept. 12.

The Sterling College Warriors are scheduled to take on the McPherson College Bulldogs at home. If that familiar thud of shoe against football and cheer from the stands doesn't happen, the college that keeps the central Kansas town's economy humming, that gives it cultural vitality, and that separates Sterling from the hollowing out that defines so many other small Midwestern towns, might not survive.

The school, after 133 years, could die and doom the town that takes such pride in the football squad and embraces the student body like family.

"If COVID defeats the athletic season this year, it will probably defeat a lot of small colleges," said Jeb Miller, a non-traditional senior at Sterling College. "And, as a result, harm a lot of small towns. Badly."

Small town institutions

Hundreds of small colleges dotting the country rely on students paying tens of thousands of dollars a year in exchange for a distinctive, personal, high-touch college experience.

Many of those colleges hung on year-to-year even before the pandemic. Now COVID-19 threatens to cut off the oxygen sustaining these schools, and the sports programs that drive enrollment.

But the very thing small colleges need to stay afloat — students coming in, spending money, playing sports — also poses a major risk to relatively isolated little towns that, so far, have dodged major coronavirus outbreaks.

Only about 2,200 people live in Sterling out on the flat, flat plains of south-central Kansas. But this small city boasts an almost idyllic downtown. New office buildings. Two good coffee shops. A nice grocery store, a bowling alley, you name it.

Sterling has good schools, competitive sports teams. Locals say school plays, games and concerts draw big crowds. Without the college, the money, diversity and energy that defines life in Sterling could evaporate quickly.

"There is just so much overlap," said Kyler Comley, a Sterling College senior who's lived in the town all his life. "The community supports the college. The college supports the community. You know, you just see how everything's intertwined and how people are just so overly giving and involved."

Every student attending Sterling College gets paired with a family in town. Those families speak endearingly about their adopted scholars.

The students left in March. Most haven't come back. Like many people here, Sterling criminal justice professor Mark Tremaine said that starting classes up again in person this month is make or break for Sterling College.

"The bottom line is, we've got to get students back to campus. If we're going to survive," he said."We have to accept whatever the risks are and do it."

And that's the plan. Sterling doesn't have much of a choice.

by Frank Morris, NPR |  Read more:

Image: Frank Morris

Hundreds of Sea Lions to be Killed on Columbia River in Effort to Save Endangered Fish

Approval to kill up to 840 sea lions in a portion of the Columbia River and its tributaries over the next five years to boost the survival of salmon and steelhead at risk of extinction is expected from federal officials Friday.

The kill program has been in the works since Congress approved a change in the Marine Mammal Protection Act in 2018, allowing sea lions to be killed to reduce predation on salmon and other species.

The legislation for the first time allows the killing of Steller’s sea lions, in addition to California sea lions, and makes any of the marine mammals fair game within a nearly 200 mile stretch of the mainstem Columbia and its tributaries, between Bonneville and McNary dams. Previously, only California sea lions that had been determined to be problematic predators of salmon were allowed to be killed to benefit fish recovery.

The program is sure to be controversial; nearly 22,000 comments received during public review of the program were opposed and fewer than 200 were for it. But a task force in May overwhelmingly recommended approval of a kill program. Barry Thom, regional administrator for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration for the West Coast Region, is expected to approve an application to implement the program, which was submitted in June of last year from state and tribal fisheries managers.

Kill operations could begin at Bonneville Dam as soon as this fall.

Kessina Lee, regional director for Southwest Washington for the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife is a member of the task force that voted yes. While work is ongoing to improve hatcheries, habitat, hydropower operations and reduce fishing impacts to benefit 13 runs of fish at risk of extinction in the Columbia and Snake Rivers, sea lions also are having an impact, she said.

In the highly altered Columbia and Snake, managers today find themselves killing protected marine mammals eating endangered salmon that in turn are crucial food for critically endangered southern resident killer whales.

“It is a wicked conservation problem,” Lee said.

by Lynda V. Mapes, Seattle Times | Read more:
Image: Don Ryan
[ed. No, it is a wicked dam problem.]

Neil Young

How Can Wall Street Be So Healthy When Main Street Isn’t?

The stock market is not the economy.

Rarely has that adage been as clear as it is now. An amazing, monthslong rally means the S&P 500 is roughly back to where it was before the coronavirus slammed the U.S, even though millions of workers are still getting unemployment benefits and businesses continue to shutter across the country.

The S&P 500, which is the benchmark index for stock funds at the heart of many 401(k) accounts, ended Wednesday at 3,380.35 after briefly topping its closing record of 3,386.15 set on Feb. 19. It’s erased nearly all of the 34% plunge from February into March in less time than it takes a baby to learn how to crawl.

The U.S. and global economies have shown some improvements since the spring, when business lockdowns were widespread, but they are nowhere close to fully healed. The number of virus cases continues to rise across much of the United States, and federal and local politicians for the most part lack a strategy to contain it. Many industries, such as airlines, hotels and dining, could take years to recover from the damage.

The Federal Reserve and the U.S. government get a lot of the credit for the rally after pouring trillions of dollars into the economy. Profits also remained incredibly resilient for the stock market’s most influential companies, such as Apple and Amazon. Rising hopes for a potential vaccine to halt the pandemic, meanwhile, have encouraged investors to look past the current dreary statistics.

Here’s a look at how Wall Street has flourished while Main Street struggles:

THE MARKET’S BIG GUNS

The corner bars, the family restaurants, the hair salons and other small businesses across the U.S. that are teetering or closing for good aren’t listed on the stock market. Apple, Microsoft, Amazon, Facebook and Google’s parent company are, and movements in their stocks alone are dictating the action in the S&P 500 more than ever before.

The pandemic has accelerated work-at-home and other trends that have boosted Big Tech, and their profits are piling up. The five big tech-oriented giants are now worth a combined $7.6 trillion, and by themselves account for more than 22% of the S&P 500′s total value.

Because stocks with the biggest market values carry the most weight in the S&P 500, the movements of Big Tech matter much more than what airlines, cruise-ship operators or other still-struggling companies are doing. American Airlines is down more than 50% for 2020 so far, but its much smaller market value means it doesn’t move the needle like Big Tech. It would take 280 American Airlines to have the heft of one Apple.

The stock market has seen some broadening out of gains recently, with stocks of smaller companies doing better. But Big Tech has done the heaviest lifting in the S&P 500′s rally.

HELP FROM WASHINGTON

A famous saying on Wall Street is: Don’t fight the Fed. The central bank is doing everything it can to support the economy, from cutting interest rates to nearly zero to the unprecedented promise to buy even riskier corporate debt. It’s all aimed at ensuring lending markets have enough cash to run smoothly and to prevent prices from going haywire. Economists say the moves have helped avoid a 2008-09 style meltdown of the financial system.

The Fed has signaled that it will keep its benchmark short-term interest rate at nearly zero through at least 2022, and low rates are often like steroids for stocks. With Treasurys and other bonds paying relatively little in interest, some investors are turning instead to stocks, gold and other investments, boosting their prices.

Congress also approved an unprecedented amount of aid for the economy. Some portions of that aid have already expired, and another economic relief package is tied up in partisan rancor on Capitol Hill. But many investors seem to expect Washington to eventually come to a compromise and throw another lifeline to the economy.

Meanwhile, the economy is recovering but at a much slower pace than its rapid collapse in the spring. After shrinking at an annual pace of 32.9% in the April-June quarter, economists forecast it will rebound at a 20% annual pace in the July-September period. The unemployment rate is 10.2% and is expected to remain in the high single-digits through at least the end of this year.

by Stan Choe, Alex Veiga and Christopher Rugaber, AP | Read more:
Image: Mark Lennihan/AP
[ed. See also: A Quick Guide To What Is Going On With The Economy (Current Affairs).]

How Live Music Is Coping, And What The Near Future Will Bring

Colin Pate was toiling away at his North Philadelphia recording studio in late June when he received an unbelievable text message: "Secret show at Johnny Brenda's tonight, 6:30."

Like so many places, the beloved Philly music venue has been shuttered since the Covid-19 pandemic first flared up in March. The 250-person venue, a staple of the local music scene that served as an early stage for Philly acts like Kurt Vile and The War on Drugs, used to host shows almost every night. While locals can still order take-out food and drinks from the bar, nobody expected a band to play there — or anywhere else for that matter — until sometime next year.

"At first, I thought it was a joke," says Pate, a local musician and recording engineer who has spent the pandemic bouncing between at-home isolation, recording solo in the studio and working at local bars to cover his rent. Like every other musician in town, Pate's hopes of playing any shows were dashed by the outbreak months earlier. By late June, the prospect of attending one seemed just as unlikely.

But this show was different. Rather than switch the upstairs stage lights back on, the venue's staff hauled a PA system onto the roof of the building. Pat Finnerty and the Full Band, an impromptu group of local musicians led by guitarist and singer Pat Finnerty, set up their gear, did a sound check, and proceeded to tear through covers of David Bowie, Marvin Gaye, Neil Young and, appropriately enough given the rooftop perch, The Beatles.

As music filled the streets below, so too did a gathering of mask-wearing locals, eager to experience their first concert in months. Some watched from apartment balconies. Others honked their car horns as they drove by. Most stood on the sidewalks and trolley platform below, maintaining a cautious, pandemic-friendly distance from one another.

"We weren't sure what to expect, but we really pulled it off," says Marley McNamara, a talent buyer at Johnny Brenda's who helped organize the show. "I was happy with the way people were all masked up and being respectful of those around them. It even sounded good, which I was surprised about."

For residents of the city's Fishtown neighborhood, the surprise performance seemed to offer a much-needed distraction after months of social isolation, followed by citywide protests and racial tension that had boiled over in front of the police precinct down the street from Johnny Brenda's just a few weeks earlier. The vibe on the street was decidedly less intense as Finnerty and his friends closed out with the "Ghostbusters" theme song against a multi-colored sunset.

Shows like this are a rare, if imperfect, bright spot for the independent live music industry, which currently sits, like so many, on the brink of catastrophe. Since March, thousands of independent venues across the U.S. have remained closed in response to the coronavirus outbreak. As the pandemic drags on, it has created an existential crisis for these venues and the critical role they play in music scenes and communities across the U.S. The Barracuda in Austin, The Satellite in Los Angeles and Portland's Port City Music Hall are just a few of the venues that have closed for good in recent weeks, with many more at risk of going under.

"It's a really surreal and scary time for everyone, but especially for the music industry," says McNamara. "We can't lose places like Johnny Brenda's."

Without federal intervention, as many as 90% of indie music venues could disappear, according to the National Independent Venue Association (NIVA). To that end, the newly formed advocacy organization is lobbying hard for legislation like the Restart Act or Save Our Stages Act, which would provide large-scale financial assistance to these endangered institutions. (...)

The impact of such a collapse could be culturally devastating. Unlike restaurants or shops, a small or medium-sized music venue is more than just a business serving its customers. They are living, breathing mini-institutions in their own right, each one with its own unique capacity to incubate local bands and artists, host touring ones, and connect them all to the communities of like-minded show attendees that these spaces attract.

For artists, who tend to make the bulk of their income performing live, this could jeopardize their ability to plan successful tours once the pandemic is over. "You can't get on a bus and play at a boarded-up building," Schaefer points out.

As the live music industry awaits an economic lifeline and an eventual vaccine, some are using the standstill to creatively rethink the functionality and economics of live music. While nobody expects new formats like socially distanced, limited capacity shows to address the industry's bigger, more systemic threat, the experimentation may yield clues as to how to safely experience live shows before a full reopening is possible. Crucially, it's also a chance to build more future-proof models for live entertainment.

by John Paul Titlow, NPR |  Read more:

Image: via
[ed. See also: Can Neil Young Block Trump From Using His Songs? It’s Complicated (NYT).]

Super Cub
via: lost

via:

How Personal Victimhood Will Doom The Left

Reaction to the innuendo against Alex Morse perfectly demonstrates how some progressives and all liberals have come to put feelings, symbols and personal self-actualization over any project of real political change.

[ed. I don't know anything about Alex Morse but it's nice to hear someone distill the whole cancel culture bullshit down to its basic essence, especially in politics.]

The Scramble to Pluck 24 Billion Cherries in Eight Weeks

Consider the cherry. Consider this cherry, actually, this one here, hanging off the tree at the very end of a long, deep green row. Look at how its red and gold skin shines in the bright sun. It’s a famous hybrid variety, a Rainier, which means it has sweet yellow flesh and that you’ll have to pay a premium price to eat it. If you do, it will be delicious, the very taste of summer. But first it will have to get to you.

So far, this cherry has been mostly lucky. No disease has come for its tree, though there’s a bad one, little-cherry disease, stalking nearby orchards. No frost kept its springtime blossoms from giving way to fruit. No excessive rain has fallen in the short time since it ripened.

That could have been a disaster, because water likes to pool in the little divot by the stem. There it seeps into the flesh, making the cherry swell. Too much, and the cherry will burst through its own skin, causing splits; whole harvests can be lost this way. So dangerous is poorly timed water that cherry growers rely on fans, wind machines and even low-flying helicopters to dry ripe fruit before it is lost. Yet wind presents its own peril: It can knock cherries against one another or into branches, bruising them so that they’re rejected on the packing line, where fruit is sorted for size and quality with high-tech optical scanners. Rainiers, because of their color, are particularly prone to showing their past with telltale “wind marks,” tiny incursions of brownness on that golden skin. This cherry has just a few.

But it’s not to market yet. The window in which a sweet cherry can be picked for sale is excruciatingly narrow. Cherries don’t continue to ripen once they’re off the tree, the way a peach does, and once picked they don’t store for very long, even when refrigerated. If they’re too ripe, they won’t make it to the packing house, the truck or the airplane, the grocery-store display, your summery dessert. The sugar content must be Goldilocksian — neither too high nor too low. Wait even a couple of days too many, and it may be too late.

Paige Hake, the second generation of her family to farm this orchard, considered the cherry. Then she considered its neighbors, with their own wind marks, in the lambent heat of a June afternoon. She looked down the long green row of trees, lined with its strip of white plastic fabric, meant to reflect sunlight onto the undersides of the cherries, helping them color evenly. She consulted with her father, Orlin Knutson, who has been growing fruit on this stretch of dry sagebrush steppe near Mattawa, Wash., for 41 years, the last 31 of them organically. There was a refrigerated truck waiting by the gate, with a growing stack of full bins next to it. There was rain in the forecast, as well as more heat, and sugar levels in the cherries were rising as they spoke. They wanted to get these cherries harvested today; they were far enough along that it was probably now or never, a whole year of investment and work leading to this one afternoon. But it was getting late, and there were a lot of other cherries that needed to be picked, and today the crew of people available to pick them was smaller than they would have liked. She turned to me and pointed to the wind-marked cherry, still unsure whether it would be worth the cost of trying to get it to market. “Would you buy that at Whole Foods?” she asked.

The yellow cherry was one of a great many across the orchards of Washington State that were just beginning to ripen. Karen Lewis, who works with growers as a tree-fruit specialist for the agricultural extension service of Washington State University, has tried to calculate exactly how many individual cherries need to be picked during a whirlwind season that Jon DeVaney, the president of the Washington State Tree Fruit Association, calls “eight weeks of craziness.” Multiplying all the millions of boxes by the number of cherries they can hold, Lewis determined that as many as 24 billion individual cherries must be plucked, separately, from their trees and placed carefully into bags and buckets and bins, each and every one of them by human hands.

Lewis thinks that people who aren’t used to thinking much about the source of their food, or who assume that the food system is as mechanized and smoothly calibrated as a factory, spitting out produce like so many sticks of gum, ought to spend some time contemplating that figure and what it means. “I’m here to tell you that people do not think we harvest everything by hand,” she says. But hands, belonging to highly skilled workers, are needed for every last cherry. During the harvest, many thousands of people are out picking by dawn, nearly every day, their fingers flying as they watch out for rattlesnakes under dark trees. (Compounding the labor crunch, this is also the time when workers in the region must hand-thin more than 100 million apple trees, so that the remaining fruit can grow larger.) Later in the season, many of the same hands will pick and place each peach and plum and apricot, every single apple — five and a half billion pounds, just of apples, just in Washington, just last year. “I think those numbers are staggering,” Lewis said.

The cherry industry has done everything it can to squeeze every possible bit of extra time into the season. Growers plant at a range of different elevations: Every 100 feet above sea level, one orchard manager says, buys you an extra day until maturity. And they choose different varietals that ripen at slightly different speeds — most red cherries are marketed to the public simply as “dark sweets” but are actually a genetically distinct array, whose different sizes and tastes and unique horticultural personalities are intimately known by growers and pickers. If everything bloomed and matured all at once, Lewis said, there’s no way there would be enough bees, enough trucks, enough bins, to make the scale of the current cherry harvest possible. Most of all, there wouldn’t be enough people. There already aren’t.

For years, the tree-fruit industry in Washington — like the salad industry in California, the blueberry industry in New Jersey, the tomato industry in Florida and countless other sources of the things that we eat — has been struggling to find the workers it needs to keep producing food. Across the country, the number of farmworkers is dwindling. Current workers, who are often immigrants without legal permission to work in the industries that are reliant on them, are getting older; those who are able to are leaving an industry that’s poorly paid and physically damaging and often exploitative; and crackdowns at the border mean that there are fewer new arrivals to take their place. To cope, some growers have turned to a ballooning visa-based “guest worker” program, which comes with its own significant problems, while many others have simply buckled under debt and rising costs, going under or selling their orchards to ever-bigger companies. “Everyone’s squeezed pretty much to the limit,” Knutson said, surveying the dark leaves, the shining fruit, the clear blue sky. “It’s kind of an ugly time.”

Such was the state of things before the coronavirus pandemic arrived, bringing with it a host of new troubles. When I called Lewis early in this year’s cherry harvest, she had just sent out a newsletter that, along with the latest updates on cherry disease and apple varieties, included information on suicide prevention. Piled on top of everything else, she said, “this is enough to take people to their knees.”

In March, when the United States began to lock down to slow the spread of the new virus, some workers noticed a change in how the government talked about them. As leaders planned for closures, it became clear that many of the lowest-paid and least-respected jobs in America were, in fact, the most important: the ones that could not be paused or interrupted or bypassed if society was to keep functioning. You could not, as Knutson put it, simply close the door to a farm for a month and then reopen it. People who had regularly been called illegal suddenly found themselves rebranded as essential.

Harvest seasons were underway or rapidly approaching across the country; without enough workers, the nation’s food would not be produced. Immigration and Customs Enforcement announced that it would “temporarily adjust its enforcement posture,” narrowing its focus to people involved in criminal activity rather than arresting anyone who was undocumented. In California, where labor-intensive fruit-and-vegetable crops account for about 85 percent of the state’s crop sales, farmers handed out letters that workers who feared attracting the attention of law enforcement by going to work during lockdowns could carry with them: not papers by the usual definition, but a paper to show that they were, informally, and just for now, legitimate by virtue of being indispensable.

by Brooke Jarvis, NY Times Magazine| Read more:
Image:Jovelle Tamayo for The New York Times

Japan's Unknown Indigenous Cuisine

On a crisp autumn morning in Hokkaido, Japan’s northernmost island, Sachiko Hoshizawa was meticulously setting out bowls and plates. Immaculately styled in a cheery yellow apron, she ensured that the long tables in front of her had the right selection of crockery, chopsticks and mixing bowls. She then turned to prepare the ingredients, carefully placing pieces of salmon, kelp, potato, carrots and spring onions on the counter of the small kitchen. Finally, she surveyed the scene and stood back behind the counter, perfectly poised with a TV-ready smile on her face, ready for the eager queue of people to swarm into the room.

Hoshizawa – a hugely popular TV cooking show host in Japan – was preparing for a highly anticipated cooking class and I was there to participate. While Japanese cuisine offers a wealth of gastronomic delights, with an endless variety of regional dishes, today she was cooking Ainu cuisine, the food of the indigenous people of Japan. That’s because, long before Japanese food became so emblematic, with sushi and shabu shabu, ramen and yakitori prized the world over, there was another cuisine here that has almost been forgotten.

Most of the world will not have heard of Japan’s indigenous people, let alone their food. The Ainu are the original inhabitants of Hokkaido, who have called this island and parts of the surrounding region their home for many thousands of years, living on and with the land. Unlike the Japanese, who practiced rice farming, the Ainu traditionally hunted, foraged and fished. Their food culture was rich and vibrant – and had a distinct and lasting impact on Japanese cuisine.

“Without Japan’s indigenous people, you wouldn’t have that Japanese taste that’s so famous,” said Remi Ie, Director of Japan at Slow Food International. “They created and fostered the food culture of Japan.”

She’s referring to umami, the savoury “fifth taste” that is often associated with Japanese dishes. It’s found in soy, miso and other fermented foods that give the cuisine its unique flavour. But Japan’s umami in fact has its roots in Ainu culture, in the kombu (a type of edible kelp) that grows in lush underwater forests around Hokkaido’s coastlines and has always been used in traditional Ainu cuisine. (...)

Kombu is a main ingredient in dashi (stock), a simple broth that forms one of the culinary cornerstones of Japanese cooking. It’s also used in a slew of other Japanese dishes, from kombu tsukudani (kombu simmered in soy sauce and mirin) to kombu kamaboko (kombu-wrapped fish cakes). Its umami flavour comes from an abundance of amino acids such as glutamic and aspartic acid, and its taste is almost synonymous with Japanese cuisine.

“Hokkaido kelp has very much influenced Japanese cuisine,” agrees food historian Takashi Morieda. “It [used to be] prohibited to kill animals more than 1,000 years ago [in Japan] due to the influence of Buddhism. That meant we didn’t have fat and oil, so we needed something else to make vegetables delicious. That’s why we use dashi; it brings the umami flavour.”

The Ainu did have fat and oil from the animals they hunted, but also used kombu as a savoury seasoning. They would harvest and dry the kombu, deep fry it and grind it into a powder to be sprinkled on deer meat; or mix the powder with water to form a paste or sauce. And by the 14th Century, they were trading kombu and other goods with the Japanese, thus introducing this umami flavour into Japanese food. Today more than 95% of Japan’s kombu comes from Hokkaido.

“This trade shaped the food culture of Japan. Kelp is the umami we all talk about in the world as the food of Japan,” said Ie.

Hoshizawa agrees, telling me: “We think kombu is the secret of long life. I eat it every day.” (...)

With much of their culture eradicated after the Japanese government formally colonised Hokkaido in the late 1800s and banned their traditional hunting and fishing, there is now a movement to showcase Ainu cuisine and culture to outsiders, as well as a resurgence of interest in their traditions and ingredients. Our cooking class group eagerly followed Hoshizawa’s precise instructions to make salmon ohau (soup) and inakibi (millet) dumplings, boiling the salmon pieces, rolling the starchy dumplings in ground walnuts and stirring a kelp sauce. It was a fascinating insight into a little-known culinary culture, but beyond these dishes, there is a wealth of other ingredients and techniques that make up Ainu cuisine.

by Ellie Cobb, BBC |  Read more:
Image: MJ Photography/Alamy

Please Throw Away Your Onions

In these divisive times, there are always onions. You cannot go wrong with onions. Onions are a staple of cuisines across the world. Are you making German potato salad? You will need onions. Mangú? Also onions. Curries, tacos, or Bolognese? Onions, onions, and onions. We are all cooking at home now. We are churning through so many onions.

Or we were. Now, we cannot even have those. A salmonella outbreak linked to red onions, first reported at the tail end of July, has expanded to 43 states and Canada, the New York Times reports. As of Sunday, nearly 900 people had fallen ill. There have been no deaths.

According to the FDA, the likely source of the outbreak is red onions from California produce supplier Thomson International, but because of the risk of contamination, the company has recalled red, yellow, white, and sweet onions shipped since May 1. The questionable onions, Thompson said, were distributed to “wholesalers, restaurants, and retail stores,” and were distributed under many names: TII Premium, El Competitor, Hartley, Onions 52, Imperial Fresh, Utah Onions, Food Lion, Thomson Premium, TLC Thomson International, Tender Loving Care, Majestic and Kroger [ed. Fred Meyer]. Grocery stores, too, are recalling the onions, as well as any store products made with them. (...)

If you know you have Thomson International onions, the CDC advises that you toss them. If you’re not sure where your onions are from, the agency recommends you get rid of those, too. And Cornell food safety professor Martin Wiedmann told the Times that the onions should be abandoned even if they’re cooked, because of the possibility of cross-contamination. “It’s better to be safe than sorry,” he told the paper. “Just don’t use them.”

by Rachel Sugar, NY Mag/Grub Street | Read more:
Image: MirageC/Getty Images
[ed. The cashier at Fred Meyer (Kroger) mentioned this to me yesterday.]

Two Fish
via: (lost)

Banksy
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[ed. November, 2020]

Odd Virus News

Wearing a neck gaiter may be worse than no mask at all, researchers find (with rebuttal here); and

Forty percent of people with coronavirus infections have no symptoms. Might they be the key to ending the pandemic? (Washington Post)

The Good (But Not Great) News About T-Cells and Herd Immunity (NY Mag/Intelligencer)

Image: Joseph Prezioso/AFP/Getty Images

Is This The Future of Acoustic Guitar? Yamaha LS-TA

Playing an unplugged acoustic guitar is one of life’s greatest simple, uncomplicated joys. But sometimes a guitarist wants just a little more than the raw, naked sound of the acoustic strings resonating in the guitar’s body, such as some reverb or chorus to add depth and dimension to the overall sound. One could always plug into an acoustic guitar amp or use an app and some headphones, but the extra equipment and cables tend to distract from that freewheeling feeling of just picking up a guitar and playing.

Yamaha’s new TransAcoustic technology allows acoustic guitar players to enjoy effects-processed sounds directly from the guitar’s sound chamber without any external boxes, devices or equipment and without changing the overall aesthetics of an acoustic-electric guitar. The effects even work when the guitar is plugged into an amp or mixing board, providing even greater convenience for performing players. Yamaha offers four TransAcoustic models with the technology built into their already popular and acclaimed L and FG series designs, so anyone interested in this technology can rest assured that the guitar itself meets high quality standards. We took a look at the LS-TA model.

First and foremost, the LS-TA is a fine-crafted concert-size flattop steel-string acoustic comparable to the Yamaha LS16 ARE with a solid Engelmann spruce top, solid rosewood back and sides, five-piece mahogany and rosewood neck and ebony fingerboard and bridge. The gold-plated Yamaha die-cast tuners, shell dot neck inlays and rosette ring, clear teardrop-shape pickguard and maple binding with multiply black and white purfling surrounding the top combine to give the guitar a deluxe touch of class. Neck features include a 25 9/16-inch scale, 1 ¾-inch nut width, 15 ¾-inch radius, 20 medium frets and a comfortable, shallow C-shape profile. The top has received Yamaha’s proprietary A.R.E. (Acoustic Resonance Enhancement) treatment that gives new wood the characteristics of aged, vintage wood.

On its own, the guitar is impressive, but the built-in TransAcoustic technology offers an even more compelling reason to check it out. Located on the upper bass bout are three control knobs that turn the TransAcoustic feature on or off, adjust the level of a room or hall reverb effect, adjust the level of a chorus effect, and adjust the level of the line output when the guitar is plugged into an external amplification system. Note, however, that no external amplification is needed to hear the reverb and chorus effects, which instead are amplified internally by the guitar’s natural resonance chamber.

The TransAcoustic technology achieves this via an actuator mounted inside the resonance chamber on the guitar’s back that senses string vibrations, amplifies and processes them, and transfers the processed sound via the guitar’s natural vibrations. It’s sort of like a transducer in reverse—instead of picking up vibrations from the guitar’s body the actuator transfers vibrations to the body. The reverb and chorus effects are also amplified through the guitar’s piezo saddle pickup when the guitar is plugged into an external amp.

by Chris Gill, Guitar World |  Read more:
[ed. Pretty awesome (I think) and around $1,100 new. See also: Yamaha LS-TA (TransAcoustic) with Sunburst Finish (Review - Guitar World).]