This week the iconic New York jeweler that makes more money from 4 simple words (will you marry me) than any other company on the planet - aired some of its dirty laundry.

As its $16 billion acquisition to LVMH Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton lay in tatters, Tiffany&Co rolled up its sleeves and started swinging punches –

Not surprisingly our town mandated the use of masks effective last week. Of course I completely forgot, and had to make a mad dash to Target to stock up. Also not surprisingly Target was pretty much sold out of masks. Except for about 10 packets left of “kids masks” - in your choice of coal black or coral pink. Two masks in every packet. $4 a packet…

So here we are. So much for post-COVID. With numbers soaring, the media screaming recession and many schools and universities not opening in the fall, it seems the end to this madness is not in sight afterall.

Onward. 

We’re too busy to pay attention to the media hysteria. We have businesses to run, clients to serve, new projects to launch, supply chain issues to solve, staffing challenges to sort and consumer demand to reignite.

The way I see it every business has three options . . .

Not long ago I stumbled on a little farm stand which is extremely well known here in the south. It’s not exactly a farm stand - more like a farm “boutique store” full of locally sourced meat, produce and their very famous tomato pies. I had heard great things about this farm stand. People would drive for 50 or more miles just to buy their home-made pies. So when I finally made it through their front door, I had high expectations. Boy was I wrong. I could barely get through the front door due to all the “stuff” that was crammed inside the store. Between 7 ft high book shelves, piles of knick knacks and rows of freezers, the place reminded me much more of a garage sale meets appliance clearance store. It was overwhelming.

This past weekend I ate a restaurant that had a “C health-sanitation rating. A long electrical cord hung from a light bulb in the ceiling. The blinds, half broken, did their best to keep out the sun’s rays. The tables, made of formica looked like something straight out of Granny’s kitchen, the mis-matched wooden chairs had surely been rescued from the Salvation Army’s give-away pile. The floor – large grey linoleum tiles that were cracked and faded - had certainly seen better days. The walls covered with yellowing newspaper cut-outs and old horse posters really made you feel like you were walking back in time 40 years. And the menu (don’t expect any at the table), was scribbled on a white piece of paper in sharpie and scotch-taped on the wall.