“This person is already thinking bigger, writing, ‘If this succeeds the people can band together to buy even more companies that get intentionally bankrupt by private equity and we can start bringing back consumer friendly practices or seizing the means of production maybe.’”
“Get in losers, we’re going to buy an airline” is the short bio next to the smiling face of Hunter Peterson, an aviation enthusiast making waves as he tries to disrupt the air travel industry. On Saturday, May 2, at 3 a.m., Spirit Airlines abruptly shuttered, leaving thousands of employees out of work and thousands of travelers holding unusable tickets.
There was no notice or warning. One day, people were booking tickets, and the next, the budget airline went dark. The airline made air travel affordable to a subset of people who otherwise couldn’t afford it.
The FAA and other airlines scrambled to offer solutions for those booked with the budget airline. While Spirit is offering refunds, the loss of a budget airline giant will be felt. Peterson decided to go further by doing something unheard of in the airline industry–crowdsource to buy an airline.
The idea behind crowdsourcing funds is to make the airline people-owned. This means there would be no corporation backing the airline. No overpaid CEO, and no large shareholder who gets to decide the fate of the company. Peterson calls it Spirit 2.0, and much to his surprise, an astonishingly large number of people were interested.
What started as a zany idea quickly turned into an unexpected movement. Peterson set up a website where interested people could pledge money starting at $45–the average price of a Spirit ticket. The potential CEO wanted to keep the price point within reach. None of the money has left anyone’s accounts. Their pledge acts as a placeholder for future funds, but the clock is ticking.
It may sound like an elaborate joke or scheme to go viral, but Peterson is doing the work. Not only has he met with the Spirit Flight Attendants’ Union, but he’s also spoken with attorneys. In videos shared on Instagram, he explains the importance of doing the legal footwork before money leaves people’s accounts.
“I just got off two calls,” Peterson says. “One, with one of the largest law firms in the world that specializes in mergers and acquisitions, aviation distress assets, and debt, and they basically said, this is doable. We can do this. I also got off a call with someone that represents high-net-worth individuals who may be interested in basically giving us some money to just burn to figure out the legalities of this.”
Peterson explains that in less than a week, they’ll be auctioning the operation certificate for Spirit. This means that if this lofty goal is going to be reached, potential small-donor investors need to reach the astronomical $1.75 billion total. Yes, billion.
Before giving the brief update, Peterson’s site letsbuyspiritair.com had already raised over $24 million. The total continues to climb rapidly, with people pledging amounts anywhere from $45 to $850. Since the website popped up, the total pledged has reached $437 million, and it’s restoring hope in people trying to make this proposed people-owned airline a reality.
“ITS ACTUALLY HAPPENING WE CAN DO THIS,” one person screams.
“Is this feeling I have…. hope? It’s been so long since I’ve felt it lol,” another says.
This person is already thinking bigger, writing, “If this succeeds the people can band together to buy even more companies that get intentionally bankrupt by private equity and we can start bringing back consumer friendly practices or seizing the means of production maybe.”
Someone else shares, “This Spirit Airlines 2.0 project is giving me hope for America. I know there are more important fish to fry when it comes to issues in America. But if we are successful with this, imagine all the other issues we can address (e.g. healthcare, reparations, homelessness, etc.) using this framework. Like truly power to the people.”
When Spirit Airlines shut down on Saturday, it left thousands of customers and employees stranded. Customers finding themselves without a flight couldn’t even complain at the ticket counter, as there were no employees there. So basically, the quality of Spirit’s customer service didn’t change because of the bankruptcy.
Spirit, a budget airline whose business model forced other airlines to change the way they did business, had a reputation as the worst airline. If you ever purchased a flight on Spirit and told a friend, their reply was probably, “I’m so sorry.”
I did fly on Spirit once from Washington to Atlanta, which, fortunately, is a very short flight. But yeah, it was cheap. The seats don’t recline, and they feel very cheap, as though they might break underneath you.
Spirit had been in financial trouble since at least the pandemic, and there are several reasons why it went out of business so suddenly. Many blame a court that would not allow them to merge with JetBlue, but Spirit itself cites the “megaspike” in fuel prices caused by Donald Trump’s chosen war with Iran. There was also an attempt by the government to bail Spirit out, but since Donald Trump is not the best negotiator in the world, those talks collapsed. Maybe Trump should have brought in his negotiating dream team of Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner. (snip-MORE)
For months, anytime Donald Trump’s planned ballroom, which he destroyed the East Wing, was criticized, a MAGAt would come along and point out that it was only being paid for by donors and Donald Trump himself. Now that we know that is no longer true, where are those guys?
Of course, it’s not new that what Trump was telling us was a lie. We always knew it was a lie. Remember the lie that Mexico was going to pay for the border wall? Trump began his 2016 campaign on that lie, along with telling us that Mexico was sending us rapists and murderers.
When a promise by Donald Trump falls apart, and it is undisputed that it is a lie, we’re supposed to forget about it. We’re supposed to forget that Donald Trump promised that he would be “too busy” to play golf if he won the presidency. We are supposed to forget that he would eventually release his taxes. We are supposed to forget that he was going to give us a brand new healthcare plan in two weeks, way back in 2016. We are supposed to forget that Donald Trump was going to lower the price of gasoline. We are supposed to forget that promise about no new wars. We are supposed to forget that Donald Trump was going to make housing more affordable. We are supposed to forget that Donald Trump was going to drain the swamp. We are supposed to forget that Donald Trump was going to lower the price of groceries. We are supposed to forget that he was going to release the Epstein files. We are supposed to forget that he was going to end the Russia/Ukraine war in his first 24 hours back in office. And we are supposed to forget that Mexico was going to pay for his racist border wall. (snip-MORE)
I have appointments throughout today, so I’ve set up a few things to read. This one is interesting in that it ties several things together to show us how not only our government but our companies are selling us into thinking we might actually get some fair treatment. It piqued my interest because of the strike last week; it seems “brands” are trying to work against being seen as part of those needing to understand what we the people don’t like how things are and that we expect change. Resist-
Red Lobster wants your attention. You can tell, because their current ads deploy not one but two separate announcers. There’s the expository guy. He’s a little pushy but at least he sticks to the facts. And then there’s the loud guy. He’s got a deep voice. He sounds like he’s broadcasting live from the submerged city of Atlantis. He says it with feeling, and also reverb.
“Because you’ve been asking… a lot… and we made it happen.”
So claims the not-from-Atlantis announcer. But what’s he talking about? We have been asking for many things. To be able to afford homes, for example, or not to have war crimes committed in our names, or to have our planet still exist twenty years from now.
Oh, this is about shrimp. Endless shrimp. It’s back, or so I’m told, in multiple forms. Every time the less pushy guy shares one of the currently available shrimp offerings, his partner pipes up with a complementary point straight from the bottom of the sea.
“Walt’s favorite shrimp.”
“ ENDLESS!”
“Garlic shrimp scampi”
“ENDLESS”
“Shrimp linguini alfredo”
“ENDLESS?”
“And all new marry me shrimp”
“ALL ENDLESS!”
The duo isn’t wrong. Endless shrimp is back. While the previous iteration didn’t technically bankrupt the chain (the real culprit was private equity and real estate chicanery) it was, by all accounts, an absolute mess. American consumers, who rightfully identified that they were getting ripped off in every facet of their lives, leapt at the opportunity to get one over at least one big business.
Back when Endless Shrimp was a permanent feature, shrimp hoarders would occupy tables for hours at a time, not leaving until they beat the house. The real victim of this behavior was, of course, the chain’s underpaid servers (if you walk into a restaurant with “me against these suckers” mindset, you’re less likely to view your waiter as a fellow victim of capitalism and you’re definitely not going to tip well). For the C-Suite, though, the larger concern wasn’t the dignity of their employees. It was a jumbo-sized hole in their bottom line.
It’s like The Boss once sang. Endless shrimp dies baby, that’s a fact. But maybe the endless shrimp that dies, some days comes back. Put your make-up on, do your hair up pretty, and meet me tonight at the only Red Lobster still open in your city.
I’m not all that interested in the relative success or failure of chain restaurant promotions, but I do care about the various ways corporations try to win our affection (meaningful cultural signifiers, or so I’d argue). And contra the two announcer voices, the most interesting thing about Red Lobster’s promotion isn’t the shellfish, either of the Walt’s Favorite or Marry Me varieties. It’s what’s whispered rather than shouted.
You see, the biggest difference between the current iteration of Endless Shrimp and its unprofitable predecessor is that now Red Lobster wants you to know that you (the shrimp-loving consumer) and they (the company) are in this together.
If you want the full story, I highly recommend this piece by Luke Winkie in Slate, but here’s the truncated version. There are varieties of shrimp on the Red Lobster menu that aren’t officially part of the promotion. They’re on the menu, but excluded from the benevolent blanket of endlessness. But if a customer were to ask for unlimited quantities of a non-official item (for example, Crispy Dragon Shrimp, a food item that I’m assured contains no actual dragon), the server is to welcome them into a cool secret. Their official, handbook-mandated line? “These items aren’t on the menu for this promotion, but I would be happy to make an exception for you.”
It’s like they say, “the exception is the rule.” Except literally, and by mandate. Servers are required by corporate policy to act like you and they are cheating the system, in hopes that when you remember the night you rode the dragon (shrimp), you remember it not as a conspiracy-of-one, but a sneaky secret between you and your best friend (Red Lobster restaurants, a subsidiary of the Thai Union Seafood Company).
This is not a new psychological trick. It’s a classic low stakes confidence game. The most effective way to a mark is to convince them that they are, in fact, in on the con themselves. It’s the same move that car salesmen use when they leave the room to “talk to their manager” before returning with a report that “he didn’t want me to give you this deal, but…”
It’s still striking, though, to see the strategy laid out in grandiose internal strategy documents. A beleaguered but iconic American brand name, flailing for its survival, hedges its survival on two bets. First, that you are tired, angry and aware that you’re on the wrong side of a rigged game (correct). And second, that, by offering you a facsimile of camaraderie and a very real pile of seafood, that they can win your loyalty (huh).
“[This is] about more than just shrimp,” the document proclaims. An absolute work of art, that sentence.
“[It’s] about creating an experience that says, ‘We listen to you.”
“When guests see Endless Shrimp back on the menu, they feel heard and valued.”
I have never addressed a sit-down chain’s internal strategy document, but I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say, tears in my eyes: Red Lobster, thank you. THIS is what democracy looks like.
As Eli Zeger argued in his 2020 essay about companies that talk like snarky teens on social media, this particular iteration of the “brand as friend” canard is the product of the marriage of late stage capitalism (and its reliance on the selling of “ideas” rather than goods and services) and the post-Citizen United codification of corporate personhood. Red Lobster isn’t a restaruant anymore. It’s your rule-breaking, shrimp loving, newly empathetic pal. It sees you. In fact, it is the only one who see you. It gets that you’re broke, but more so that you’re alone. It’s no longer offering you cheap shrimp (the price tag for the promotion has risen markedly since its last iteration). It’s promising you something more important– belonging, connection, a port in the storm of alienation and precarity we’re all weathering.
But Red Lobster isn’t alone, in surveying a landscape of mass alienation (economic, relational, spiritual) and seeing a business opportunity. Advertising agencies are publishing unironic blogs chillingly titled “the loneliness crisis: how brands can step up?” Silicon Valley’s greatest minds heard that you wanted community and responded with sycophantic AI chatbots. Apparently, our tech overlords’ understanding of human relationships is a robot who agrees with you all the time, including when you muse about harming yourself. Even the outright scammers get it. Gone are the days of far flung princes offering you a financial windfall. As you may have experienced personally, the hot new con is… pretending to be an acquaintance and inviting you to a party.
This is a step beyond the classic commodification funnel, as documented in nineties leftist classics like No Logo and The Conquest of Cool. The brands are no longer promising a great deal, or even hipness. What’s on offer now is the dream of a welcoming community, one deep enough to solve for the isolation that the companies themselves helped create.
That’s very depressing, of course, both the reminder that our economy has always been built on the exploitation of vulnerability, and the reality that there’s just so much more vulnerability to be exploited at this particular moment.
But there’s another truth, not a counterpoint, but a complement. How fortunate, for those of us who actually want to connect with other human beings, rather than just make a quick buck off of them. We already have what every corporation in the world wishes they had– the fact that, when we offer a space by our side, to either a stranger or a friend, we actually mean it. We’re not trying to trick you into springing for a Main Deck Margarita Flight to go along with your shrimp. We’re not trying to mine your data or add you to a marketing funnel or load you up with debt and junk. We just think this world would be more navigable together rather than apart.
And as an organizing opportunity? From union drives to neighbor-to-neighbor activism to the precious few political campaigns that care more about building community than personal brand building? My goodness. Why do you keep hearing about neighborism these days, and not just from true believers like me? Because more people are admitting every day how hungry they are for connection, and then taking the risk of making an offering.
The terrible news right now is that the hucksters are going to keep selling us a flim flam simulacra of belonging. Yes, the consultants, but also (I fear) the politicians. I strongly suspect the 2028 Democratic primary to feature a million text messages about “neighbors” and “community” penned by a well-heeled K-Street consultants. But the good news is that we aren’t that dumb. We know the brands aren’t our friends. We’ve lived through the great social media con together. We know what the lie looks like, and now we’d much prefer the deeply imperfect, thoroughly messy alternative.
“This idea of, ‘I won’t be erased,’ that’s something that brewed in my childhood,” she said. “I think that’s where the fight comes from. … I don’t want to fail, and I haven’t failed yet. I think that’s the scary part. I’ve never, ever had a floor beneath me.”
Brady-Davis is currently the only Black trans person holding public office in the United States, serving on the Metropolitan Water Reclamation District of Greater Chicago. She previously shared that title with Minneapolis City Councilor Andrea Jenkins, who retired in January.
And while water reclamation commissioner, a job that involves juggling budgets and managing wastewater and stormwater for Cook County, might not sound like a big title, those in the know are eyeing Brady-Davis carefully. She recently toured Washington, D.C., with Rep. Sarah McBride, who made history herself as the first trans person elected to Congress.
Brady-Davis doesn’t rule out the possibility of a congressional run. But she’s coy about her ambitions, talking around a bid for national office.
“For now, my focus is on being effective at the local level — but I’ve thought about how that work could expand to have a broader impact on issues like the environment, LGBTQ rights, and education,” she said.
“I absolutely think she could be a congressperson,” said Tracy Baim, co-founder of Chicago’s LGBTQ+ newspaper Windy City Times, who has watched Davis’ rise. “There’s no doubt in my mind she has the qualifications.”
Precious Brady-Davis speaks during an interview in her office. (Erin Hooley/AP)
Early life
Brady-Davis largely grew up with her grandparents but eventually wound up in foster care, where she was confronted with a version of Christianity that saw homosexuality as sinful.
In her memoir, “I Have Always Been Me,” Brady-Davis recalls going to a Pentecostal youth retreat and having a pastor call her out specifically: “I bind the foul spirit of homosexuality out of you,” she recalled him saying. “You are not a woman. You are a man.”
The preacher and others in the group lunged toward her; Brady-Davis later awoke prostrate on a kitchen floor, traumatized from the experience.
While she worked to conform for a while, as she learned about the world and herself, she gradually rejected those ideas. In college, she began performing in drag, first in her home state of Nebraska and then in Chicago.
At this time, two transitions were taking place. Brady-Davis was starting to live full-time as a woman. And her professional career was starting.
She took a job doing HIV prevention work among youth of color at Chicago’s Center on Halsted, the LGBTQ+ community center in the heart of Chicago’s Boystown neighborhood, amid tension over violence at the 2011 Pride parade and the subsequent crackdown on crime.
Center on Halsted, an LGBTQ+ community center in Chicago’s Northalsted neighborhood, where Precious Brady-Davis worked in HIV prevention among youth of color early in her career. (Jamie Kelter Davis for The 19th)
The job would prove difficult to impossible. While residents were angry with the Center, youth advocates claimed that the Center over-policed young people, calling law enforcement on homeless kids looking for safe places to sleep. Brady-Davis was forced to defend an institution that was being attacked from all sides. It would be her first political test.
“I advocated for those young people the best I could,” she said. “It was just cruel. … When I think that something is wrong, I’m going to speak up about it.”
Baim said she watched Brady-Davis turn every challenge into an advance.
“Precious has managed to navigate so many of the land mines that others have not survived, and came from a very, very grassroots approach to the work, and has really reimagined herself for each iteration,” Baim said.
Brady-Davis would do a stint with About Face Theatre, the LGBTQ+ youth theatre troupe in Chicago, and then join the Sierra Club, where she eventually became northeast communications director and battled President Donald Trump’s Environmental Protection Agency during his first term.
It was work that made sense for her, she said.
“How can I say that my work is invested in diversity, equity and inclusion when I’m not working in all kinds of diversity?” she asked. “Environmental justice felt like another kind of diversity.”
A family legacy
During Brady-Davis’ stint at Center on Halsted, a young man came literally knocking at her door without an appointment. The man, Myles Brady, was bald and eager to chat. He wanted to get involved in programs with youths. He shared that he was transgender, too. The fact surprised Brady-Davis. But he was so talkative that Brady-Davis didn’t know what to make of him.
“Like it was weird to me, and I was very protective of the young people at the Center,” said Brady-Davis. She decided to never follow up with him again.
Brady was persistent. He kept appearing at events. One night he asked Brady-Davis to dinner. She reluctantly agreed.
“I was like, at least I’ll get dinner out of it, right?” she said laughing. “I was like, I’ll go on this date, and I’ll never have to see him again.”
But a few months later Brady-Davis was headed to the Philadelphia Health Conference. She got an email from Brady. “I can’t wait to see you in Philly,” it said.
The message struck her as cute. Later that night while she was out to dinner with trans friends Brady walked in and sat down. Brady-Davis didn’t know it, but he had been invited by others at the table. She was being set up. Brady told Brady-Davis she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and that he wanted to build a life with her and take care of her.
“I saw him so differently that night,” she said. “It was the first time that I truly saw him.”
The two left the conference together and have been together ever since. They were married in 2016, and Brady-Davis appeared on TLC’s “Say Yes to the Dress,” the first transgender bride to be featured on the show.
Precious Brady-Davis and her husband, Myles Brady-Davis, wave to the crowd during the Chicago Pride Parade. The couple were the first transgender parents in Illinois history to be listed as their accurate genders on their children’s birth certificates. (Chicago Pride)
They had two daughters, Zayn and Zyon.
The birth of their first daughter, Zayn, provided another opportunity for advocacy. Brady, who was carrying the child, learned in 2019 that the state of Illinois would list him as a “mother” on the birth certificate and Brady-Davis as “father.” The two teamed up with Lambda Legal and petitioned the state, successfully changing the policy. Brady would be recognized as Zayn’s father, and Brady-Davis was listed as her mother.
“I always say it brings me the most joy to take my kids to school in the morning,” said Brady-Davis. “It’s one of the most normal things that I get to do as a human being. And it’s not about me being trans at all. It’s about me being a mom. …I’m proud of the ways in which I’m parenting my girls to be a part of a world that I hope is more inclusive, diverse.”
Into politics
Sierra Club positioned her well for her next big move, into electoral politics. In 2022, she vied for a spot as a commissioner on the Water Reclamation District. Though she fell short in the primary, the next year Gov. JB Pritzker appointed her to finish the term of the candidate who had beaten her, who had since joined the state legislature.
“Precious Brady-Davis distinguished herself as a trailblazer even before her historic appointment to public office in Cook County,” Pritzker said of Brady Davis in a statement to The 19th. “Throughout her political and nonprofit career, Precious consistently stepped up as the first — first to speak up for the LGBTQ+ community, first to share the story of her path to activism and public office, and first to encourage others to claim their seats at the table.”
Precious Brady-Davis speaks at a Metropolitan Water Reclamation District of Greater Chicago board meeting. After being appointed to the board in 2023, Brady-Davis won her primary this year by large margins. (Courtesy of Precious Brady-Davis)
When time came for her reelection bid this year, Brady-Davis won her primary by large margins.
But whether she finishes her six-year term remains to be seen. Apart from her time in D.C. with McBride, she has been chatting up major political donors. McBride says she would not be surprised to see Brady-Davis serving alongside her in Congress.
“I think the sky is the limit for her, and she is someone who I respect deeply,” McBride said. “It was personally meaningful to walk these halls with a trailblazer whose story is only just beginning.”
“While my opponent obsesses over my gender and uses cowardly tricks to try to avoid facing me, I will continue to fight for practical solutions to problems that actually impact our communities.”
Michigan Democrats are firing back after one of their own—a candidate in a state representative race—filed a complaint with the Wayne County Division of Elections, aiming to boot his primary opponent, Joanna Whaley, from the ballot. This is because Whaley is transgender and went through a legal name change process.
It seems that another contender for Michigan’s 2nd State House District seat, Frank Liberati falsely believed Whaley’s name change hadn’t gone through. So, last week, he accused her of running under a false name in violation of election procedures, official documents show, which were provided to Erin in the Morning by Whaley.
They also showed that Liberati went even further in his anti-trans rhetoric. The complaint invoked Whaley’s deadname (a given name a trans person no longer uses) at every turn, consistently misgendered her, or called Whaley “she/he.”
The Michigan Legislative LGBTQ+ Caucus denounced Liberati’s “transphobic tactics.”
“During a time of increasing and relentless attacks on the trans community, submitting this sort of meritless challenge to the Wayne County Clerk serves no purpose but to stoke the flames of transphobia for personal political gain,” a statement from the Caucus reads.
Democratic lawmakers further called on officials to throw out the complaint. “The Clerk should promptly reject this baseless challenge to Whaley’s candidacy and allow the voters of 2nd State House District to decide this election at the ballot box. Weaponizing transphobia as an electoral tactic has no place whatsoever in Michigan politics, and certainly not in a Democratic Party primary,” the statement said.
Whaley told Erin in the Morning that she expected to encounter transphobia when running for office, but she was shocked when she learned it was from a fellow Democrat.
At the same time, she also said she has been flooded with support from voters, Party members, and leaders who were outraged by Liberati’s maneuver.
“I spoke with the chair of the Michigan Democratic Party, and we are united across the state that this is not how Democrats act,” Whaley said. “This is not what we represent.”
Whaley said Liberati’s complaint was based on outdated court filings. When Whaley first came out, excessive state fees ended up delaying aspects of her legal transition. Since then, the state legislature has passed laws to make name changes less burdensome. Whaley filed again, got her name successfully updated, and has been going by Joanna ever since.
“When a candidate cannot run on their own merits, they resort to lies and distractions,” Whaley said in a public response when news of the challenge first broke. “Our campaign remains focused on the issues that matter to the residents of this district: lowering water and utility bills, expanding healthcare access, fixing our infrastructure, and protecting our freedoms.”
“While my opponent obsesses over my gender and uses cowardly tricks to try to avoid facing me, I will continue to fight for practical solutions to problems that actually impact our communities,” she continued.
This isn’t the first time that issues with name changes and state identification laws have been weaponized against trans voters and/or candidates. Gendered party seat positions, which were initially created to advance the representation of women in office, have since become a barrier for people of marginalized genders who want to run for a position.
Meanwhile, stringent voter ID policies are poised to hinder trans and gender nonconforming people’s ability to vote if their current documentation or gender expression doesn’t match their name and gender assigned at birth. (The name change issue extends beyond trans people; married women who take their husband’s last name have also reported barriers to voting.)
In addition to her candidacy, Whaley is a parent, a hospital chaplain, and a proud Democrat. She told Erin in the Morning she was in part inspired to run for office by Liberati’s brother: Sitting member Tullio Liberati, who crossed party lines last year to vote in favor of a bill that discriminated against transgender women and girls in sports.
Transphobia, it seems, runs in the family. Frank personally signed off on the complaint submitted to officials, notary and all.
Liberati did not immediately respond to a request for comment. Prior to this race, he had served for six years as a state representative in Michigan’s 13th District.
Whaley said she expects the complaint to be resolved and that she hopes to bring the conversation around her candidacy back to the issues that impact everyday voters.
“[Resorting to] this move in the first place shows that we are the campaign to beat,” Whaley said. These are tactics to “knock me out of the race, because [Liberati] can’t win on the issues.”
Lo, while billionaires gathered at the Met Gala to pretend they have class or culture, Amazon workers showed up outside to remind everyone what really funds their costume party.
Piss bottles.
1. The Workers Crashed The Party
Jeff Bezos paid $10 million to attend this year’s rich scumbag costume ball.
And lo, Amazon workers said: absolutely fucking not.
The Met Gala wanted to turn Bezos into a patron of the arts.
Amazon workers turned him back into the Lex Luther villain he is.
Behold, Chris Smalls and Amazon workers outside the Met Gala, reminding America who really built Bezos’ empire.
(There’s a little video embedded on the page that I can’t snag and bring back. Click above on the title, or here to see the videos, and to save yourself time, read the little bit of the rest there, too. Snip)
Scottie's Playtime 