Tariffs (and movie review)
I watched Wall Street (original with Michael Douglas, and the Sheens), They Live (with the very meaty Roddy Piper) and American Psycho over the weekend. I wasn’t planning on having a 1980s-themed indictment of corporate greed marathon, but there it is.
This probably ruminated in my mind until yesterday, when, during a phone call with a friend, it occurred to me that my customers would be affected. Up to that point, I was focused on ensuring I had what I needed, but I didn’t consider my customers’ point of view. I’m shipping packages that were ordered with (potentially) one set of calculations which might be different by the time of receipt.
That sounds extremely frustrating for all the obvious reasons as well as the fact that a person is disempowered to act in their own best interests. Who would buy something if the terms at the time of purchase might be different at the time of delivery? I’m not beside myself with rage, but I damn well could be.
My shipping/returns policy still applies, so the duties or tariffs a person might need to pay are still the responsibility of the purchaser. Again, there’s nothing I can do about those. All I can say at this moment in time is no matter how upset you might be at being asked/forced to participate in the silliest manmade crisis of modern times, I am equally, if not greater than so.
Pierre
p.s. As a child of the 20th century who watched two greed driven national catastrophes (2001, 2009) and one incompetency driven one (COVIC 19), the movie Wall Street was quaint to me. It was fun to hear the blandishing corporate “big talk”, but overall, it was…adorable. Charming. What times!
They Live was not bad, but I would not call it a “good” movie. The fight scene was about five minutes too long. Music was good. Message was good.
American Psycho was a violent, gory horror movie, and I don’t care for those, but it was so ridiculous, so over the top, and so hyper-saturated that it was amusing. (All the scenes with the young hot shots are silly, but the business card scene is de rigeur the best. If you ever find yourself in conversation with an exclusionary American nationalist, you can say Mr. Bale is an immigrant who stole an American job. (I think he’s Welsh.)