When I went into Sephora (a cosmetics store, for those unfamiliar with it) with Alex, I had a realization: they sell what amounts to dust. Maybe contained in another medium (i.e. a cream), but it’s all essentially “dust”. And they sell it for a lot of money. Thinking further, I thought of laser printer toner, and the similarities between cosmetics and toner: both are special “dust”, and both cost upwards of $100 for one unit/container of it. Is there something about producing this “dust” that makes it expensive, or is it just the markup the manufacturers can achieve because of our ignorance or addiction to style (in the case of toner, addiction to the name brand of the OEM)? And why isn’t there generic cosmetics, analogous to generic toner cartridges?

Over a snack at Panera(!), Alex and I were talking about corporate cultures and how companies attract or drive away certain groups of people as both employees and customers. For instance, Pot Belly Sandwich Works in Troy (and other places) has a culture of “funky artist”. Some of the employees are vegan (as I learned through a discussion with them), and most looked like hipsters. How much of this is corporately desired/encouraged, I don’t know.

Panera, on the other hand, has a more diverse workforce–the one we went to in Pittsburgh had two African-Americans, one guy of unknown decent and three white women working there. Then we thought about McDonalds, and what culture they have. According to their annual reports, McDonalds is moving towards more of a “lounge model” in some urban markets. Presumably, this is to grab more of the “coffee house” market. The locations will reportedly have TVs, wireless Internet and nicer (stuffed?) chairs.

McDonalds advertises mainly to urban African-Americans (looking at their ads of young black men playing basketball and saying they’re “loving it” with their quarter pounder with cheese). When Alex and I worked in Larimer and went into the corner store, it was common to see patrons buying bread and cheese and telling their hungry kids that it was dinner. We assumed these were single mothers who were on a limited income. I’ve read that many use McDonalds in much the same way–a primary food source.

We wondered what role the corner store could play in encouraging nutritious choices, but how about McDonalds? As a corporation that, in many ways, forms people’s thinking about food and nutrition, what role do they have? I acknowledge they are serving salads and fruit now, but I think they could do more. A start may be, for instance, reducing serving sizes of fries or soda. Maybe introducing a fruit-juice sweetened drink. Having *fresh* fruit instead of fries, similar to Panera’s replacement of chips with fruit. McDonalds could, similar to the Healthy Black Families initiative in Pittsburgh, make this thrust a cultural thing. Unfortunately, McDonalds either doesn’t realize the power of their cultural impact, or, more likely, chooses the safe, yet profitable path of giving people what sells, regardless of whether it’s slowly killing them.

Alex sent me a link to a discussion on LinkedIn about an “infrastructure agenda” (discussion on LinkedIn) The poster asks, in summary, “what should the government do about aging infrastructure?” I’ve noticed so much discussion in the media about this issue lately, and for obvious reasons, it strikes me as interesting.

I believe this rally of sorts for the government to do something about aging infrastructure answers my question, “why should people care about infrastructure?” It really makes the purpose of my project “Critical Infrastructure” more clear in that the public policy issues surrounding these systems are really becoming apparent to everyday people.

Billions will be spent on improving these built systems–may as well chime in if you have something to say!

Alex and I visited my parents in Detroit this past weekend. When we were there, we took a ride by Ford’s Van Dyke Plant on Van Dyke Road and 18 Mile Road in Sterling Heights. The place is pretty interesting as a micro-study of industrial labor.

I think I’ve always been aware of the divisions or “caste system” of union vs. non-union laborers. I’ve seen the construction gates at Pittsburgh job sites that say “union entrance only” or heard automobile company employees talk about the “salaried workers” (usually in derogatory ways, of course–they don’t know how the plant “really works”).

The rift between the two is also apparent in the parking lot of the Ford plant, as you can see below (there is labeled “salaried” parking, but no similar “hourly” parking). It’s interesting how the way in which one gets paid can become such a defining factor of ones identity in an industrial environment such as this. I guess it also represents how the company values your work.

When sitting outside eating lunch, I noticed an old Cadillac drive by. I’m *sure* there is a ton of literature on this (a cursory look didn’t find any, however), but I was thinking: isn’t it interesting how one can “read” car body styles and, in doing so, gain some understanding of the times from which the design came? In the 50’s, cars were big and used thick steel–the features were rounded and soft, suggesting attention to quality, no concern in regards to fuel consumption (i.e. no oil crisis) and an optimistic outlook (I think soft features are “optimistic”?).

Today, cars are very utilitarian. Especially looking back at cars still on the road from the 80’s. Cars today use thin metal and plastic, and we are more obsessed with fuel economy (and that’s not a bad thing). Except for SUVs. They aren’t fuel efficient, and sort of embody the desire for “safety” and security in this “dangerous world” coupled with the “me first” attitude of our society.

These observations are not too novel, I know, and I’m also not sure whether I’m ascribing these properties to the cars “post mortem” or if they really are reflected in the cars’ style. Like most other interpretation, I’m sure the truth probably lies somewhere in between.