1) Song of the week: "Luka" by Suzanne Vega 
2) The Poughkeepsie Journal: Restaurant wine law could work in N.Y. [Développement de la pratique d'emporter ses restes de bouteille après avoir diné au resto]
3) The Los Angeles Times: Vice Fund Parent Faces Charges on Trading [Questions de déontologie sur un fonds commun de placement spécialisé dans le vice]
4) Business Week/Growing Concerns: U.S. Programmers at Overseas Salaries [Comment ne pas délocaliser des emplois en informatique vers l'Inde ? Embaucher des Américains aux prix d'un Indien]
5) Slate/Moneybox: Why low interest rates aren't good news [Alors que les consommateurs américains continuent à emprunter, les entreprises demeurent réticentes au crédit]
6) The Jersey Journal: Hoboken woman hopes to wrap up $10G prize in Rockefeller Center today [Concours d'emballage de cadeaux] 
7) BBC: Bush's turkey raises questions [Polémique sur la fausse dinde de Bush en Irak]
8) The Economist: New Zealand's film industry  [L'industrie cinématographique en Nouvelle Zélande après le Seigneur des Anneaux]
9) The Guardian: Loo with a view [Installation artistique d'un WC sur voie publique à la glace sans tain]
10) The Washington Post/Miss Manners: The Gift of Heartburn [Que faire des cadeaux non-voulus ?]
11) The Economist: Business manners [Commentaire sur les conseils de Miss Manners sur la fin d'année]
12) The Economist: Education in France [Pourquoi les Français aiment-ils tant donner des fessées ?]
13) Slate/Dear Prudence: Relative agony [Conseils sur la vie sentimentale et la vie tout court : Ma belle famille me rend dingue ; Est-ce vraiment mal que les cousins se marient ? J'ai des inquiétudes par rapport à l'oncle du copain de mon jeune fils ; Un ami de mon mari est devenu Témoin de Jéhovah et il nous insupporte]

They know that Santa's on his way
He's bringing lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh
And every mother's child is gonna spy
To see if reindeer really know hot to fly
And so I'm offering this simple wish
To kids from one to ninety-two
Although it's been said many times,
many ways
Merry Chrismas to you

RETURN TO TOP

Inevitably, it's already been nicknamed as the ''doggie bag for wine'' law. Call it what you will; the logic behind new legislation in Connecticut is pretty impressive. In fact, New York lawmakers also ought to consider allowing restaurant customers to take home any wine they don't finish with their meal. 
Before Oct. 1, when the Connecticut law took effect, restaurant patrons might have hesitated to order an expensive bottle of wine with dinner if they didn't think they could finish it. Either they had to drink more than they should, and run the risk of becoming drunken drivers, or they had to leave it behind on their table. 

In New York, that's still the law, Alcohol Beverage Control Deputy Commissioner Mark Anderson said. Any unconsumed alcoholic drink must be disposed of by the restaurant. 

But now, in Connecticut, patrons can have just the right amount of wine with dinner. The restaurant reseals any remaining wine inside the bottle, which is then placed in a bag. 

This could benefit local vintners, who often do a lot of business with local restaurants. It could also improve sales at restaurants -- and give them a nice opportunity to put an advertisement on the bag. 

If New York considers a similar bill, the liability issue must be carefully examined. In Connecticut, restaurants aren't liable, and shouldn't be, if someone gets in legal trouble after drinking the wine in a resealed bottle. In any case, drunken driving and public drunkenness are still serious issues, and should be vigorously prosecuted. 

The Connecticut law also carefully specifies that the wine must be purchased with a sit-down, full-course meal where tableware is used. That should minimize the risk that some customers might try to buy bottles of wine at restaurants when liquor and package stores aren't open. New York is already more than flexible enough on this subject -- the law was recently changed, allowing shopkeepers to do business on Sunday, as long as they stay closed at least one other day each week. 

Within a few months it should be clear whether the Connecticut legislation has any flaws in it. Any legislation drafted in New York could then improve on this interesting idea. 
 

RETURN TO TOP

It wasn't Mutuals.com Inc.'s most sinister-sounding product — the Vice Fund of "socially irresponsible" stocks such as cigarette makers and casino operators — that caught the attention of federal regulators. Rather, they accused the firm and three of its executives Thursday of making thousands of illegal trades. The Dallas-based broker-dealer and investment advisor, founded in 1994, became the sixth company to face charges of improper trading in the widening fund industry scandal.

In civil fraud charges, the Securities and Exchange Commission accused Mutuals.com of late trading and market timing — the chief abuses in the scandal that has tarred the $7.1-trillion mutual fund business — and of using "a whole host of methods" to disguise the activities. "It sounds like they never met a vice they didn't like," said Roy Weitz, editor of the Tarzana-based Web site FundAlarm.com.

The charges don't involve the Vice Fund or the firm's other funds, but another side of its business: helping its 18 nonretail clients, mainly institutions and hedge funds, manage portfolios of funds offered by other firms. The SEC complaint named Chief Executive Richard Sapio, President Eric McDonald and compliance officer Michele Leftwich as defendants. Lawyer Stephen Topetzes of Kirkpatrick & Lockhart in Washington, who is representing the defendants, said they have cooperated with the SEC. However, "Our clients intend to contest vigorously the claims and allegations," Topetzes said, adding that the charges "lack merit."

The SEC, which is seeking undisclosed fines and restitution from the firm, said a court-appointed monitor would review Mutuals.com's operations. Market timing refers to rapid buying and selling of fund shares to exploit price inefficiencies. Though it is not necessarily illegal, many funds bar it because it can hurt long-term investors by driving up trading costs. From July 2001 to September 2003, the SEC alleges, Mutuals.com engaged in improper trading of 294 funds. The firm devised tactics to hide the activity, including making the trades through two brokerages set up just for that purpose, and suggesting that clients use Social Security numbers other than their own to disguise their trades, regulators say.

Late trading, or placing orders to buy or sell fund shares after the market's close but at that day's price (rather than at the next day's price as required by law), occurred at Mutuals.com at least during the first 10 months of this year, the SEC alleges.  The firm and its affiliates allegedly tried to hide the activity by omitting portions of the trading data they gave clearing agents. In the last three years, regulators said, Mutuals.com earned more than $4.5 million in "wrap" fees from its clients, the "vast majority" attributable to market timing and late trading.

Mutuals.com is probably best known for the Vice Fund, a reverse take on so-called socially responsible funds that shun investments in companies considered unfriendly to, say, gun control or public health. The Vice Fund's logo includes a gun sight, a pair of dice and a cigarette; it invests in defense companies, casino operators, cigarette makers and brewers. The fund was launched in August 2002 and had $5.9 million in assets as of Sept. 30. 

Positioned as a long-term growth fund, the portfolio has notched a total return of 28.9% this year, versus 23.4% for the benchmark Standard & Poor's 500 index.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright 2003 Los Angeles Times

RETURN TO TOP

U.S. Programmers at Overseas Salaries 
Rather than send IT work to India, a Boston startup sought locals at the same money. The result: plenty of applicants -- and a lot of questions 
It's the great unanswered business-economic question of our day: How do we replace the hundreds of thousands of information-technology, call-center, paralegal, and other jobs rapidly exiting the U.S. for India, Russia, and other low-wage countries? The main answer that the so-called experts put forth, without a lot of conviction, is that we'll create new "high-value" jobs to replace those leaving the U.S. What are those jobs? No one seems to know. 

In the meantime, the matter of overseas subcontracting appears to have become open-and-shut. If you're an executive with half a brain, you can come to only one conclusion when tallying the differences in costs between hiring computer programmers in the U.S., vs. India or Russia. These days, the jobs are going to Indians and Russians. 

OFFSHORE BARGAINS.  But what if there was another way to skin this particular cat. That's what Jon Carson wondered a few months back, when confronted with the need to complete a major programming project in a hurry, and at the lowest possible cost. Jon is a serial entrepreneur whose latest venture, cMarket, helps nonprofit organizations increase their revenues by putting fund-raising auctions online. I have known Jon for years, and -- full disclosure -- have invested in several of his ventures. I only learned about his computer-programming dilemma after the fact, though. 

cMarket had been pursued, as many business owners are these days, by an intermediary who promised he could cut cMarket's programming costs significantly by outsourcing his needs to India. So last spring, when cMarket signed an agreement with the national Parent Teachers Assn. (PTA) to handle online auctions for its 20,000-plus local chapters and, simultaneously, began taking on charity auctions from Boston to Miami, Jon knew he had to rapidly expand cMarket's capabilities. He had his IT director call the intermediary and tell him that cMarket needed four programmers, pronto. Jon knew the numbers for experienced American programmers doing the specialty work he required: $80,000 a year, with benefits adding an additional $5,000 to $10,000 per programmer. The intermediary came back with the number for the services from India: $40,000 per programmer. 

It seemed like a cut-and-dried decision, the kind U.S. executives are making every day without hesitating, but for some reason Jon hesitated. Much as he likes the idea of having projects completed at the lowest possible cost, and as responsible as he feels to investors, he didn't like the feeling of becoming someone who callously pushes jobs to other countries. "I'm in the entrepreneurial economy," where competition around both costs and revenues is very intense, he says. "But I was personally very uncomfortable. This situation brought me face-to-face with how easy global disintermediation is being made for folks, to the point where it is almost inevitable." 

TOUGH CALL.  As he thought more about his decision, Jon realized he had a valid business reason to hesitate: As the head of a startup that had been going for less than a year, he wasn't at all certain he should take the risk of having essential work done at a far-off location by people he didn't know, and with whom he could communicate only via e-mail and phone. Still, there was that matter of nearly $200,000 in annual savings. Each time he hesitated about making his decision, various confidantes reminded him about the big money at stake. 

And then Jon had a brainstorm. What if he offered Americans the jobs at the same rate he would be paying for Indian programmers? It seemed like a long shot. But it also seemed worth the gamble. So Jon placed some ads in The Boston Globe, offering full-time contract programming work for $45,000 annually. (He had decided that it was worth adding a $5,000 premium to what he'd pay the Indian workers in exchange for having the programmers on site.) 

The result? "We got flooded" with resumes, about 90 in total, many from highly qualified programmers having trouble finding work in the down economy, Jon says. His decision: "For $5,000 it was no contest." Jon went American. And the outcome? "I think I got the best of both worlds. I got local people who came in for 10% more (than Indians). And I found really good ones." 

HERE AND NOW.  In the interim, Jon has promoted two of the programmers to full-time employees, at standard American programming salaries, rather than risk losing them to the marketplace. And he is convinced that having people working onsite gives him control over quality and timing that he wouldn't have enjoyed if he had subcontracted overseas. 

While cMarket has solved its immediate challenge, the implications of Jon's approach are potentially mind-bending. What if other companies begin taking the same approach -- offering Indian-style wages to American workers? On the positive site, we could begin to solve our job-creation problems. But on the negative side, America's standard of living would inevitably decline. There's only one way to find out for sure how it all might shake out, and that is for other executives to replicate Jon's experiment. The results could be quite interesting. 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
David E. Gumpert is the author of Burn Your Business Plan: What Investors Really Want from Entrepreneurs and How to Really Start Your Own Business. Readers can e-mail him at david@davidgumpert.com 

RETURN TO TOP

One of the enduring economic mysteries of the past few years is that even during a period when budget deficits soared to record levels, interest rates have remained low. After all, conventional wisdom has long held that the government, by soaking up massive amounts of capital, would compete with the private sector for a finite pool of capital, and thus push interest rates up. That's why maintaining fiscal discipline has been considered the key to keeping interest rates low. The theory has been dubbed Rubinomics by its critics (mostly former deficit hawks who have been complicit in the creation of the gigantic Bush-Frist-Hastert deficits) in honor of Robert Rubin, the former head of Goldman Sachs who served as Clinton's treasury secretary. But the theory is really more Economics 101 than the gospel according to Bob. As Berkeley economist/blogger J. Bradford DeLong noted here, both Gregory Mankiw, the current chairman of the Council of Economic Advisers, and his predecessor, Glenn Hubbard, made the same argument in their respective macroeconomic textbooks.

The Federal Reserve's unprecedented rate-slashing has certainly helped keep interest rates low. But interest rates aren't determined solely by Alan Greenspan and his cloistered colleagues. In a system like ours, where money is created on demand, interest rates respond in part to the laws of supply and demand. The more eager people and companies are to borrow money, the higher its price—as expressed by interest rates. Since American consumers' urge to go into debt certainly has shown no sign of abating, is the demand to borrow falling somewhere else? The answer is yes: American businesses have lately been showing remarkable restraint. Their belt-tightening behavior should give pause to those among us who have been celebrating the Bush boom and relishing low interest rates.

Consumers borrow cash in relatively small chunks: $5,000 on a credit card, $30,000 for an auto loan, a $400,000 mortgage. But companies borrow in gigantic gulps, millions or tens of millions of dollars at a time. For many companies, the preferred vehicle for short-term purposes is commercial paper. Commercial paper is one of those little-known, unglamorous, and yet enormously important sectors of the capital market. Cheaper and more hassle-free than bank loans or bonds, these unsecured loans enable companies to borrow money for the short term—anywhere from two to 270 days. Companies rely on commercial paper to finance inventory or to tide themselves over between when orders are made and when companies actually collect on sales. Here is the Fed's description of commercial paper. 

So if the economy is red-hot, and companies are engaged in a frenzy of investment, purchasing, and selling, you might expect demand for commercial paper to be rising. But demand for commercial paper has in fact been falling. In this document, which shows the amount of commercial paper outstanding each month since 1991, the figures show huge growth throughout the 1990s, when demand for private capital of all sorts was high. The amount peaked at $1.62 trillion in November 2000, and then began to slide rather dramatically. In November 2003, it stood at $1.3 trillion, down 20 percent from its peak. Since January 2003, the amount outstanding has fallen about 5 percent. The chart contained in this Fed release graphically illustrates the downward trend of the past two years.

When you examine the two main sources of demand for commercial paper—nonfinancial companies and financial companies—a stark divide emerges. The amount of commercial paper held by financial companies has been relatively stable. It stood at $1.18 trillion as of November 2003, off just a few percentage points from the April 2001 peak. But look at the amount of commercial paper outstanding to domestic nonfinancial companies—admittedly a far smaller figure. It stood at $110 billion in November 2003, down 18.5 percent from the December 2002 total—and off a whopping 65 percent from the $315 billion peak in November 2000. That's telling because nonfinancial firms are likely to use proceeds of borrowing to buy things—goods and services—whereas financial companies are likely to use proceeds of short-term borrowing to buy other financial assets. The most recent data shows that as of Dec. 3, nonfinancial domestic companies had further reduced their commercial paper borrowing to $104.2 billion. 

In other words, amid the growth of the last few quarters—stimulated in large part by tax cuts to consumers and mortgage refinancing—companies haven't been clamoring for cash. Ah, but couldn't companies simply be eschewing short-term financing for longer-term debt, like bank loans? After all, interest rates are low; banks are healthy and should be in an expansive mode. 

The Fed follows the amount of loans outstanding to U.S. companies, too. And here again, the numbers have been surprisingly weak. Line 6 in this release, which documents bank loans outstanding to commercial and industrial companies, shows the figure fell from $968 billion in October 2002 to $892.4 in October 2003—a decline of 8 percent. A look at the historical data shows that the amount outstanding has fallen for 20 straight months. And as of Nov. 19, the total was off 18 percent from the February 2001 peak.

Ordinarily, a prolonged period of rock-bottom interest rates should be an excuse for consumers and corporations to party. And the recent data showing job creation, high growth, massive productivity gains, and cheap borrowing rates make a pretty potent cocktail. The problem is that not everybody is joining in the revelry. Indeed, interest rates remain low in part because far too many corporate executives are sitting on the sidelines, sipping club soda. 

Daniel Gross (www.danielgross.net) writes Slate's "Moneybox" column. You can e-mail him at moneybox@slate.com.
RETURN TO TOP

For most people, gift wrapping is a chore. For Brooke Rinehart, it's an art. Rinehart, 23, of Hoboken, has been selected to compete in the today's seventh annual Scotch Brand Most Gifted Wrapper Contest at Rockefeller Center in Manhattan. "I'm the unconventional wrapper," Rinehart said. "I tend to wrap creatively, turning the wrapping into other shapes."  For example, when Rinehart's sister Samantha got married, she welcomed her new brother-in-law into the family by wrapping a bottle of wine into the shape of a menorah in honor of his Jewish heritage. Some of her other shapes include a Christmas tree with clothes hangers for branches, a Santa Claus face inspired by a handbag, and a snowman made entirely of tape and tissue paper. 

Rinehart is originally from Stroudsburg, Pa., where her family still lives, but moved to Hoboken four months ago after attending college in Boston, Mass. She works for LaForce and Stevens public relations agency in Manhattan. "I had my heart set on living in Manhattan, but Hoboken was more affordable, and I fell in love with it," she said. 

Rinehart said she first came across the wrapping contest by chance while browsing the Internet, and entered it with her father's encouragement.  "The wrapping in itself is a gift," said Bill Rinehart, 54, about his daughter's wrapping talent. "I saved many of them (the wrappings) to the point of deteriorating.  "I try to take them apart without destroying them. It's a shame to destroy the wrapping to get to what's inside." He said his daughter would wait for the family to leave the house and when they returned they would find the room filled with amazingly wrapped gifts.  He remembered one gift - a tie - that was rolled into a cylinder of black paper with yellow lines across it, like a highway, complete with a model car traveling down the road. 

Though her gift-wrap creations are for friends and family, Rinehart will not only be competing against other "amateurs" in today's contest, but also against department store pros, too. "The whole thing is thrilling, but I'm not sure if my skills are suited for this type of contest," she said. Rinehart said her biggest weakness, particularly against the professionals, is her lack of speed. "It takes her four days to wrap a gift, because she makes crafts and wonderful things," agreed her mother, Jo Rinehart, 53. "She'll take a different approach to wrapping. Time permitting, she'll make it into something unexpected." 

Today's gift wrapping contest, to be held at the Cucina Co. Restaurant at Rockefeller Center between 8:30 and 10:15 a.m., started as a way to promote a new innovation in the gift-wrapping world: the "pop-up" tape dispenser. Worn like a bracelet, the pop-up tape dispenser releases pre-cut strips of tape once the initial strip is pulled, said Amy Coles, a spokeswoman for 3M, the maker of Scotch tape. "It is a nice event for Scotch tape, because it has become synonymous with gift wrapping," Coles said. 

The contest was advertised on-line and through press releases sent to newspapers and various other venues. Essays from people on why they should be selected to compete poured in, until the final contestants were chosen by an expert gift wrapper provided by 3M. The contestants, chosen from between 100 and 150 wrappers nationally, were notified three weeks ago, Coles said. Rinehart is among eight finalists - four amateurs and four professionals - all competing against each other in three rounds. "The reason for the mixed contestants is to see if the pros really are better than everyday people who wrap gifts," Coles explained. 

After the first round, the four contestants with the highest scores - regardless of whether they entered as professionals or amateurs - will advance to the second round where two more contestants will be eliminated. The two remaining contestants will go for the grand prize: $10,000. The second-place wrapper will be awarded $2,500. 

Each contestant were to be told last night what they will be wrapping in the first and second rounds, but the third-round items remain a surprise and are picked by the public at www.scotchtape.com, with odd-shaped choices like a pair of skis and poles, a 10-gallon hat, a guitar or a hockey stick, and the item can't be boxed to simplify its wrapping. 

Copyright 2003 NJ.com. All Rights Reserved. 

RETURN TO TOP

A roast turkey presented to US troops in Iraq for Thanksgiving by President George W Bush was reportedly only used for decorative purposes. Photographs showed the president holding the turkey next to US troops as if preparing to serve it for their holiday meal. But the Washington Post paper says the bird had been roasted by a contractor to use as a table decoration. Mr Bush paid a surprise visit to Iraq amid unprecedented security last week. 

MORALE BOOST 

Mr Bush stunned 600 troops of the First Armoured Division when he arrived as they were due to begin their Thanksgiving dinner. They had not been told in advance of Mr Bush's visit - the first to Iraq by a US president - and even journalists accompanying him were warned not to report the visit until they had left the country on Air Force One, the president's plane. News of the visit, and the images of Mr Bush holding the turkey aloft while talking to delighted US troops, created a media frenzy in the US and it was hailed as a public relations coup for the Bush administration. It also served as a well-timed morale boost, as concerns continued to grow in the US over the high numbers of casualties in Iraq. 

However, now it seems likely that the soldiers ate pre-prepared turkey instead, not the glistening golden brown creature handled by the US president. But US officials countered they did not know that the turkey was going to be there or that Mr Bush was going to pick it up. 

PLANE DEBATE 

The allegation comes as the White House has been criticised for repeatedly changing its version of events regarding an encounter between Air Force One, and a regular aircraft whose pilot spotted it over British airspace on its way to Iraq. White House spokesman Scott McClellan quoted a statement from the London area's air traffic control centre which said a pilot had asked if the plane behind him was, as he suspected, Air Force One. Air traffic control replied to say only that the plane was a Gulfstream V, which was how it had been described in the flight plan for security reasons. Previously, it had been wrongly implied that the conversation had been between the regular plane's pilot and Air Force One itself. The Bush administration said it had told the anecdote to reveal the inherent danger surrounding the US president as he prepared for the visit, but the incident has been criticised as excessive "spin" on the part of Mr Bush's handlers. 

Published: 2003/12/05 18:02:18 GMT
© BBC MMIII

RETURN TO TOP

“WELLYWOOD,” the term that some headline writers have coined for the chunk of New Zealand's NZ$500m ($320m) film-production business based in and around its capital, seems too silly to last. Even so, fresh from last week's ticker-tape parade and premier for Peter Jackson's “The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King”, Wellington's film makers are enjoying their close-up.

All three “Rings” movies were scripted, designed, costumed, filmed, edited and dubbed in New Zealand. The 48,000 props—from prosthetic limbs and Hobbit feet, to armour, swords, cloaks and daggers—were forged, sewn and spit-and-glued by local artisans coordinated by Wellington's Weta Workshop. Computer-generated monsters and special effects were rendered by Wellington's Weta Digital. The musical scores and sound effects were mixed at Wellington's The Film Unit. Even the algorithm that allows a few evil grotesques to swell into an army of several thousand grotesques came from a Kiwi computer programmer, Stephen Regelous. Mr Jackson—who on occasions had an estimated 20,000 people working for him (including extras for non-computer generated crowd scenes)—was briefly the largest private employer in New Zealand. No wonder he got a parade.

But will “Lord of the Rings” now lead to bigger and better things for New Zealand film? There are some grounds for hope. Besides “Rings”, Gwyneth Paltrow's movie about Sylvia Plath, “Sylvia”, was shot on location in New Zealand, as was a new Tom Cruise epic, “The Last Samurai”. “Whale Rider”, a home-grown, independently produced New Zealand movie, has become an art-house hit in America.

More significantly, Mr Jackson has not squandered his advantage. Just as “Star Wars” director George Lucas built up his movie effects company, Industrial Light and Magic, away from Hollywood—400 miles (645km) north in San Rafael, California—Mr Jackson has constructed, at a large cost to himself, the best film post-production facilities money can buy, 6,700 miles from Hollywood. His NZ$30m facility at The Film Unit will be hired out to film producers willing to decamp to Wellington to edit and dub their movies. 

To keep busy, Weta Digital, Weta Workshop and The Film Unit can count on Mr Jackson, who will start to shoot a remake of King Kong in New Zealand next month (despite the country's scant supply of jungles or skyscrapers). But the only other big-budget productions currently on the books in New Zealand are “Without a Paddle” (billed as “a remake of ‘Deliverance', but as a comedy”), and a new series of “Power Rangers” episodes for TV—hardly enough for Sue Thompson, who runs The Film Unit, to realize her vision of increasing film production turnover to NZ$900m by 2007.

Whether Wellywood can attract more foreign film makers will depend, ultimately, on things that Ms Thompson, and even Mr Jackson, cannot control. Wellington's technological prowess and now well-trained crews aside, all the blockbusters made in New Zealand in the past decade have come for three reasons: because a Kiwi producer or director was committed to the place; because New Zealand offered an unbeatable location (for example, in 2000, “Vertical Limit” cast New Zealand's Mount Cook as the Himalayas); or, crucially, because it was cheaper. When Mr Jackson decided make his trilogy here, the New Zealand dollar cost 41 American cents. It now costs 64 cents. Off the record, even sources close to Mr Jackson concede that today's exchange rate would probably be enough to stop “Lord of the Rings” being made in New Zealand. 

RETURN TO TOP

A special prize ought to be created for any visitor to a gleaming sculpture unveiled yesterday who can avoid jokes about taking the piss out of modern art. 

The piece, Don't Miss a Sec by the Italian artist Monica Bonvicini, is a fully functional toilet. The stainless steel combined sink and lavatory - bought from a prison supplier - housed in a mirror glass cabinet has been installed in the building site opposite Tate Britain. From the outside it reflects the world; from the inside it is shockingly transparent. 

Bonvicini said she conceived of the piece a decade ago while watching guests at art show openings: not so much that they couldn't bear to miss a second of the art as that they couldn't bear to miss networking, gossip, free drinks and flashing their jewellery at one another. 

"So I thought I could make this piece where they could do their business and still not miss a second of the event," she said. 
------
But does it flush? 
State of the art

For his part, Paul Frankish thinks that it is, simply and succinctly, "great". Robin Levien ponders how it erodes boundaries between design and art. Its creator bats away such quibbles with the brook-no-argument kinda defence that it's "a medium for power representation". 

It is, indeed, a toilet - a toilet, that is, according to one newspaper art critic, "disconcerting", or, if you prefer the more grassroots verdict of Frankish, who went to have a look at the outdoor loo yesterday afternoon, "intriguing". 

Truly, it's not your every day, friendly, white piece of porcelain. First, it has a name - Don't Miss a Sec - which, you must concede, not every toilet does. Second, it is bestowed with not just convenient value but artistic, too. It is a piece of public art, created by Monica Benvicini, and is currently squatting on a building site next to Tate Britain, inside a cube lined with one-way mirrors. 

But instead of everyone else being able to peer in - as those with a traditionally British sense of humour might wish to - the user can, unobserved, watch the oblivious passers-by. Rumours that publishers of Schott's Miscellany and Purple Ronnie books are panicking at this possible new trend away from toilet reading to toilet voyeurism are, at the time of writing, unconfirmed. Jokes involving the phrases "toilet humour", "arty-farty" and "load of crap" are probably not necessary. 

Frankish and Levien do have a special interest in the loo for they are, respectively, the marketing director and design director of Armitage Shanks, a name that has sunk into our collective minds during many years of happy usage of their fine comfort stations, as certain, more euphemistic Americans are prone to call the appliance. 

"The idea of making the public toilet more interesting has to be applauded," is Frankish's thumping response. Levien's more convoluted, even Rumsfeldishly, expressed opinion is that it is "encouraging that the toilet has become important to the art world in being the focus of a work that prompts us to question the environment that we are part of". 

As for Bonvicini herself, she "questions" (is there an artist who does anything but?) "architectural form by interrogating the politics of space". Rather less high-falutingly, she apparently holds particular hope that builders will make practical use of her art. And to think we once described a chopped-up cow as disturbingly visceral. 

RETURN TO TOP

It's not just less blessed to receive, a sizable minority of Miss Manners's Gentle Readers claim. It's a downright nuisance. While she is kept busy chastising the greedy for their blatant demands, the background hums with G.R. grumbles:

• "My home has slowly become totally cluttered and overrun with a vast array of crafty, cutesy, tasteless decorative items and accessories given as gifts. I am running out of room, I no longer enjoy the way my home looks, and gift-giving season is upon us."
• "My husband and I boycott items manufactured in a certain country, because these places are notorious for the ill use of their workers, many of whom are underage. We also try to instill in our daughter that Christmas is about love and family and charity and kindness by doing volunteer work and making donations. But every year, we end up at my husband's parents' house and his family gives her far more gifts than she needs, many of them from the precise country we boycott."
• "My brother decided to present to all his siblings a contribution in their name to a certain charity, unfortunately selecting a charitable organization that my wife and I do not support. Indeed, we oppose its mission and goals, and greatly suspect its management of incompetence, at the very least. My brother knows, as well as he knows his own name, how my wife and I feel about this organization."
• "We live in a small apartment and have two garbage bags full of stuffed animals already. I have tried to get it across to both sides of the family that the children don't need any more -- I have even suggested storage units as gifts -- and only one person got the hint."
• "My brother is a minister. Our religious views differ sharply. Each holiday season, he gives my two young children numerous gifts such as books, videos and puzzles, with overly religious messages, which I perceive as an attempt to influence the religious views of my children. I don't want my brother to give them any more such items."

As all of these people swear that they accept graciously whatever they are handed and try not to look crestfallen, Miss Manners is slightly abashed. The gift registry, the gift certificate and gifts of cash would also solve their problems as much as those of the ungraciously greedy.

Miss Manners does not waver in her opposition to the solution of eliminating the elements of thought, symbolism and surprise from presents, and having people simply pay one another for getting through the holidays. But she is feeling responsible for the consequences. What about all that awful, unwanted stuff?

Here is the polite procedure for minimizing the damage.

Hints are in order in advance ("Check out my Web site" is not a hint), as are mutually negotiated deals, such as "There are so many of us now, why don't we agree to get presents just for the children?"

When those fail, as Gentle Readers testify they so often do, the polite recipient protects the donor from knowing the present was a failure. Thanks, and no complaints. To refuse a present is a high insult, and that includes asking the donor to go exchange it.

However -- here comes the relief -- the donor is equally bound to silence, which means that the present does not have to be used or displayed. (Exceptions are wise when the donor is beloved and close at hand, but these are voluntary.) This leaves room for returning, giving to charity and re-gifting, none of which is rude if the rule is strictly observed about protecting the donor from knowing. This requires fresh wrappings and lists of who gave what, and a ban on yard sales and re-gifting anywhere near the donor.

And, most of all, it requires an attitude of "I didn't really expect to make a profit on Christmas anyway."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Q:
Dear Miss Manners: 

I was approached by the sister of a young man (they both work at a local establishment that my husband and I frequent) who was expressing her wish to purchase a rather expensive Christmas present for her brother. Not knowing this girl very well, I told her that it was a very nice gift, but far more than I could ever afford, even for my own husband. 

Her response? "Well, I thought I would take donations from everyone here at the restaurant (myself included). That way, I wouldn't have to bear the brunt of the whole thing." 

I was FLOORED, and would like to know how to politely respond with "not a chance" when asked for a contribution. 

A:
"That's very generous, but wouldn't it be too much of a financial burden for you? Because, of course, then you'd be obliged to help all of us buy what we'd like to give." 

© 2003, Judith Martin

RETURN TO TOP

BEFORE those office Christmas parties begin in earnest, glance at the Harvard Business Review. In its December issue it has an interview with “Miss Manners”, Judith Martin, whose syndicated column advises millions of Americans on vital matters of etiquette—such as whether to wear diamonds before dark or to write college applications in pink ink. In the HBR, Miss Manners argues that the American workplace is now too informal for its own good. Workers are dangerously confusing colleagues and friends. “Office collections for the umpteenth bridal or baby shower have destroyed the sense of boundaries that characterises professional behaviour.”

America's informal business practices have spread so widely that such sentiments can strike a chord anywhere these days. Where they do, employees need to be particularly wary of Christmas. It is a dangerous time for firms that go along with the fashionable belief that workers are most productive if freed from the constraints that etiquette imposes. Not only could the traditional grope in a dark corner at the office “do” end up in dismissal and a criminal record these days, but the intra-office gift-giving rituals can also lead to trouble.

In the current British hit movie, “Love Actually”, the story (in so far as there is one) revolves around the build-up to Christmas. One character, the brother-in-law of a British prime minister, is the boss of a London-based business which convincingly proves that the relationship between a firm's productivity and the personal proximity of its employees is an inverse one. All his staff are so busy inter-relating that they have little time for anything else. When the boss buys his flirtatious assistant a necklace for Christmas and his wife a Joni Mitchell CD, it is almost the end of his marriage. 

What Christmas gift does Miss Manners advise bosses to choose for their assistants? Try giving them a bonus, she suggests. And, dare we suggest, just watch their productivity soar. 

RETURN TO TOP

Should parents smack their children? The great debate, in French

EVER wondered why French children are so unnaturally well-behaved in restaurants? Could the liberal use by French parents of a firm smack be responsible? According to one poll, 84% of them admit to smacking their children, a practice banned in countries from Sweden to Germany, and 51% say they do so often.

The French like to appear baffled, even amused, by others' efforts to ban the habit. A recent British move to outlaw smacking by child-minders made Le Figaro's front page. Certainly, there is no taboo against smacking in public: many a harassed parent can be seen unapologetically slapping a tot in a park or supermarket. It is part of the repertoire of unsentimental child-rearing practices that set France apart from the indulgent child-centric American tradition. Surely, say the French, parents can be trusted to know the difference between the odd slap and repeated physical abuse?

This complacency, however, argue increasingly vocal child-protection groups, masks a serious problem. A culture that legitimises smacking can encourage the concealment of graver abuse. In 2001, 1.9m calls were made to an emergency childline service. Last week, Christian Jacob, the minister for the family, announced the setting up of an institute for child mistreatment. It will gather figures on the problem, assess early-warning policies, and consider whether to let child-protection agencies take civil action against parents suspected of violence. A television awareness campaign, which shows children hitting and shouting at a recalcitrant doll they are play-feeding, and carries the slogan “Being a parent is not child's play”, will also be screened. 

Some campaigners want more. How is mistreatment to be defined? No Slapping No Smacking, an organisation set up in 1998, wants corporal punishment in the home outlawed. Its head, Dr Jacqueline Cornet, argues that smacking, however occasional, undermines children's confidence, weakens their emotional relationships, and encourages the use of violence to resolve disputes. Even French women's magazines and child-rearing books are beginning to counsel against the practice. “A child is not a puppy to be trained”, advises a recent issue of Elle magazine. Stand by for rowdier meal times in the brasserie

RETURN TO TOP

Dearest Prudence,
My in-laws could be a case study in several realms of psychosomatic study. There are three of them, my brother-in-law, father-in-law, and dear old mother-in-law. They each have their own set of traits that make them special. Brother is a lazy, jobless, unmotivated spoiled brat; a multiple DUI recipient/reforming alcoholic (to keep from going to jail, again). Good ol' pop is a pill-popping, chemically induced rambler of useless conversation. And mom likes her pills, too; but she has to have a little breakfast glass of wine before she can take hers. Previously, they stayed on their side of town. But the day my mother-in-law turned to me, with my new baby in her arms, and said, "You are going to be seeing a lot more of us!" I felt like a train had run over me. Since that day, they have become incessant pests worthy of going head-to-head with the swarms of locusts of biblical times. They never call before dropping by, and sometimes it's four or five times a day! I have asked them repeatedly to stop doing this, and they respond by intensifying the frequency of their visits. My wife and I both work at home. She is too busy to have company, as am I. What it boils down to is that they have nothing else to do, so their entertainment is keeping us in turmoil. Mom will show up in the middle of the day dead-drunk and want to watch the baby; 15 minutes later the baby is in a dirty diaper, and mom is passed out cold on the couch. All three have been in and out of treatment centers, therapists' offices, and in the brother's case, jail. My wife has been reduced to a big ball of exposed nerves, crying at the drop of a hat. Having a small child and a full-time job with little help is stressful enough without having to endure these assaults. My wife told me just last night that she could depend on the kindness of a stranger quicker than anyone in her family. They show up and just want to hang out, and nobody is ever "able" to help. And to tell you the truth, I don't trust them with my child anyway. Short of getting a restraining order, I do not know what to do. 

—Stumped
P.S.: Know any sober baby sitters? 

Dear Stump,
You write so well that under the desperation, Prudie detects a hint of humor, though of the black variety. It was interesting that you referred to the damaged family as candidates for a psychosomatic study. Prudie thought you were going to apply the diagnosis used by a neurologist friend who calls them "psycho-ceramic"; that is, cracked pots. In one way you are lucky because your wife finds her relatives as grim and unhelpful as you do. Now here is how you reclaim your life—and your house. Tell this unfortunate trio that because you and your wife work at home, it is no longer possible to have them dropping by. Tell them that you are unable to entertain them, you have work to do, and the days of "drop-ins" are over. If they are really nuts, change the locks and ignore the doorbell. It is crucial that you put your foot down. Make it plain that the new modus operandi is not because they are people with problems, but because you and your wife work. No one should be the prisoner of people with no judgment—even if they are relatives.

—Prudie, immovably 
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Dear Prudence,
At a recent four-generation family gathering, my oldest son (a teenager) spent a fair amount of time with his first cousin, so much so that the 90-year-old great-grandfather of both of them was prompted to launch a fairly vociferous lecture about the inadvisability of cousins marrying and so forth. While I don't think this was on either of their minds, I thought it might be worth asking if it really is a bad idea. I have a vague recollection (all too many of my recollections are vague, but that's another matter) of hearing that the medical evidence suggesting that intercousin marriage was a bad idea due to the likelihood of birth defects was flawed, and that there was essentially no real genetic reason to avoid such liaisons. So I put it to Pru—are there any reasons, medical or otherwise, to discourage such a relationship if it seems to be developing?

—Mystified in Minnesota

Dear Myst,
Marriage of close relatives in an inbred society—like Iceland—often invites genetic mishaps. First-cousin marriages in this country have come to be less verboten than they used to be, though there is always the chance of two recessive genes combining to make ... trouble. BUT the more important question raised in your letter is: What is up with Gramps that he has two teenage kids hanging out at a family party on their way to marriage? A family party, by definition, does not offer anyone to hang with who is NOT a relative. Please regard the old gent's prematurely conjured scenario as a miniperformance without any basis in fact.

—Prudie, disregardingly
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Prudence,
My 11-year-old son has had a difficult time making friends because he is somewhat shy. His closest friend, "Mark," happens to live a few houses down the street from us. I like Mark, and Mark's family is very kind to my son. Lately my son has told me that Mark's uncle "hangs out" with them a lot. Recently I met this uncle for the first time, and something bothers me about him. I have no basis for my distrust other than maternal instinct. I do not want my son around Mark's uncle; however, I do not want my son to lose Mark as a friend. How do I handle this situation? Am I just being a nervous mother?

—Maternally Motivated

Dear Mat,
Prudie would never diss maternal instinct, particularly about a "funny uncle." The thing to do is tell Mark's parents that one of them must be present when your son is doing anything with their son. If pressed, say you're not comfortable with any grown-up who spends an inordinate amount of time with children. Or ... you might try to move the get-togethers to your house. Good luck.

—Prudie, vigilantly
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Hi Prudie!
Quick question: My husband has known a guy since he was 15 when they started to work together. This person became like a younger brother to my husband. Fast-forward: This young man has become a "born-again Jehovah's Witness," and every time he's around my husband, he aggressively lectures him on everything from going to church to quitting smoking. While his intentions are good, this "new person" is not the one my husband wants to remain close with. In fact, he's begun avoiding taking his calls and makes excuses when asked about visiting. Is there a polite way for my spouse to tell this guy that "the new you and the old me aren't compatible any more"?

—Jehovah Dodger

Dear Je,
Quick answer: This is one of those instances where the truth works really well. Your husband should explain his new reticence to socialize by saying that, at his age, he already has a religion and is not interested in being lobbied, even for the Lord or the antitobacco interests.

—Prudie, plainly
RETURN TO TOP