Welcome to Hack Mule Notebook #13—a spooky number for Halloween week!
It’s been another busy week, so I have a full notebook to share.
But first, some quick kudos to KID, the innovation center in downtown Bethesda that introduces children from preschool through high school to the pleasures of solving problems through hands-on learning and invention.
It launched a decade ago as KID Museum, but the name made some people think it was a traditional museum. This week, it rebranded as “KID,” dropping the museum moniker. Thursday’s big rollout event celebrated the new identity.
I was especially pleased to see several of our elected officials, including County Executive Marc Elrich, who was in great form as Election Day approaches and he gets ready for a likely shift to the County Council. Marc is one of the few reliably authentic voices in county politics, and after two terms as County Executive, he will bring a fascinating perspective to the Council.
(I’m buying my popcorn now, because it’s going to be a good show!)
I also saw state delegates Teresa Woorman and Marc Korman along with outgoing District 1 Council Member Andrew Friedson. I’m always amazed that these officials never seem to flag—the state delegates, for instance, have full-time jobs, elected positions, and countless events in the evenings.
The really satisfying thing is that KID is an institution that merits this kind of support. I recently took them on as a client, so you’ll be hearing more.
But now, onto the rest of the week.
Overheard
“My family was very poor during the Depression. Every day my mother made day-old bread.” An elderly Leviathan resident educating a 20-something in the lobby.
Elevator Follies
I was waiting for the elevator here at the Leviathan the other day when a “Did You Know?” trivia question flashed by on the video screen in the lobby.
“Did you know…a protozoa is a single-celled orgasm?”
I did a double take. Did it really say that? Surely I must have misread it.
I stood there for about 10 minutes just to see if I could catch it cycling by again.
Next week: The Private Lives of Paramecia.
Pack It In
Over the past few weeks, riding Metro and Ride On, visiting client offices, and stopping at coffee shops, I’ve noticed something interesting: Briefcases and shoulder bags are gone, and everyone from toddlers to corporate attorneys carries a backpack now.
If you don’t believe me, check out Metro. As I rode down the 10-story escalator at Bethesda Metro, I was watching people ascending. During the two-minute-and-40-second ride, I clocked about 75 people wearing backpacks. No other bags.
I felt like I was watching the world’s oddest scout troop evacuate from the city.
Eager to join the party, I got out my own backpack from grad school in the late 1990s. I hadn’t used it in years, and I was surprised to find that it was literally decomposing—the synthetic lining had broken down and turned sticky.
Time to update my gear!
Last time I bought a backpack, L.L.Bean was ne plus ultra, so I started there. Unfortunately, the collection seems to have only two modes now: elementary school and Alpine expedition. I was hoping for something a little less Amazing Race.
A 20-something friend urged me to check out still-popular Herschel, which had a brief reign as the go-to outfitter for digital natives around 10 years ago.
But after reading reviews on Herschel’s website, I started to wonder if the company sells backpacks or emotional-support devices.
“Because of gravity, all of my things in there sink to the bottom,” reviewer Josh whined.
Damn gravity! Herschel should fix that!
Another was having a personal (and grammatical) meltdown: “I dont want a good day and cant have it with this backpack.”
Huh. Not sure if that’s a feature or a flaw.
One man offered a more existential critique: “No review is a review without pointing out what I did not like…”
You do you, sir.
Then there was the woman who didn’t even review the backpack. She wrote, “I am Nichole, not Nicole. Nichole.”
Poor Herschel—it’s being tanked by its own dedicated and obnoxious fans. L.L.Bean’s reviewers just talk about whether the straps fray and the kids like them.
Anyway, I ended up buying a new L.L.Bean bag. If it lasts as long as the previous version, I’ll still own it when it comes back into style. In the meantime, I can carry my laptop, a 32-ounce water bottle, extra shoes, a small coat, and possibly an air mattress.
Milestones
Still Missing: Amelia Earhart. Purdue University, which helped fund Amelia’s 1937 flight and backed a new search expedition this month, reported the sad news that Amelia is still missing. Turns out the large object spotted in the water off Nikumaroro is a tree, not her plane. My next question is, why is Purdue so damned determined to find that plane? Was Amelia carrying the only key to the faculty restroom or something? Hack Mule will stay on the case.
Shrinking: Halloween candy. In the past, a single bag of fun-sized candies would not only satisfy all the trick-or-treaters I might get here at the Leviathan, but it would provide enough for me to snack on for weeks. Now I’ll be out of stock if the Bridge Club rings the doorbell.
Released: Apple iPhone Duo. Apple’s new folding iPhone hit stores this week and sold out immediately. I’m going to guess that’s because Apple only made 139 of these $2,000+ devices, not because of a sudden surge in demand. (By the way, if anyone wants to buy me one, I’d be happy to review it.)
Seated: Pope Leo. After shaking off lung cancer like a bad cold in less than a week, Pope Leo accepted the honorary title of Papal Confrater of the College of St. George at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor. The move comes one year after Leo gave Charles III his own chair in the Papal Basilica in Rome and made him a Royal Confrater. Leo’s chair happens to reside atop the resting place of Henry VIII, the guy who booted Rome out of England 500 years ago.
Broken: The World. Reports emerged this week that staffers from Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth’s office cracked open a historic Eisenhower globe while attempting to move it to the Secretary’s office. Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower, who later became the 34th U.S. president, used the floor-stand globe when he served as Supreme Allied Commander during World War II. Hack Mule is less worried about the crack than the Sharpie they’ll use to cross out the Gulf of Mexico and Lake Ontario.
Listening
“Isle of Dogs,” Morrissey. This upbeat song is so bleak I burst out laughing when I heard it while working at Filicori Zecchini.
“Nantucket,” Ripe. Trustafarians, burn-outs, green tea, and bourbon. It’s like a Nantucket audio documentary that popped up in the middle of Whole Foods.
“Light Green Reverie,” Jon Batiste. ChatGPT thought I might like this while writing. It was right.
“Good Times,” Goose. Listened to it after an ad-agency friend said she’d just licensed the song rights for an ad campaign.
“A-Punk,” Vampire Weekend. Listening at physical therapy. The therapist said I was doing the reps too fast as a result.
“Run,” Coin. A great song for cruising on the open highway. Alas, I was in traffic on the Beltway when I heard it.
“London Calling,” The Clash. My college-age nephew asked me if I’d ever heard of this song. He’s studying it in history class.
Hack Mule Hits are now available on Spotify and Apple Music.
Listen on Spotify | Listen on Apple Music
Recollections May Vary
Finally this week, Hack Mule is following a breaking story about Thomas Markle, Sr., father of Meghan Markle. Meghan, a former cable actress and entrepreneuratrix, is perhaps best known for marrying the younger son of King Charles, the lanky one with thinning red hair. She is also the least impressive Northwestern graduate ever, based on a poll of alumni sitting here at my keyboard.
The news, however, is no joke. Reports claim that Thomas Markle, Jr., turned his father in to police for having material depicting child sex abuse, which he claims to have found stored in his father’s former home in the Philippines. Markle, Sr., an award-winning Hollywood lighting director, vehemently denied the claims.
According to the Associated Press, the Philippines National Bureau of Investigation and the FBI are cooperating on an investigation.
Meghan, however, did not wait for an investigation to issue her own statement about the matter—and it’s causing a PR mess.
As the story first emerged on Friday, she issued a statement claiming that in 2018 she learned about “troubling and disturbing allegations” against her father in a letter someone sent to London’s Metropolitan Police.
She immediately went on to make it about herself: “I hope it can now be understood that, despite certain media publications’ distortion over the years, any distance from my father and my choice to not allow him to have contact with our children was for one reason: to protect them.”
But here’s the awkward thing: Two years later, in 2020, during litigation over a letter she wrote to her father, her own legal team said that Meghan and Thomas, Sr., “had a very close father/daughter relationship throughout her childhood and remained close until he was targeted three years ago by intrusive UK tabloid media”.
No mention of any allegations. No concerns about children.
The story took an odd twist on Saturday, when Scotland Yard pointed out that the police received a letter about Thomas Markle in 2019, not 2018.
Meghan’s spokesperson issued a prickly response: “If the MPS holds a time-stamped record confirming that the letter was reviewed in 2019, that should be treated as the accurate reference point for when it was received and shared with the Duchess. I think it is reasonable to recognize that she is doing her best to recall the precise timing of events that were not diarized at the time, and that any discrepancy of a few months is an understandable consequence of that passage of time.”
In other words, recollections may vary.
But her statement still leaves me scratching my head. Why on earth would this woman who purports to be a protective mother tie her own children into a tawdry story about their grandfather? Was her first instinct really, “This is a great opportunity to settle some scores”?
Meghan’s comments also suggest that her father’s guilt is a given.
Rather than waiting for the allegations to play out, Meghan stated that her “thoughts are with any children who may have been harmed.” She added, “…[W]hat has now been uncovered is more sickening than one could ever imagine.”
Fascinating. What’s been uncovered? What else does she know? Is there a reason she seems so certain about this? If so, why has this humanitarian never spoken up before this?
I’m also sniffing out a little bit of an institutional comeuppance. Meghan’s statement says that she was “given assurances that these [allegations] were being investigated.” She goes on to add, “I trusted that the authorities were doing the same for other families.”
It’s a very short leap from there to Harry’s claims that the authorities have disregarded his requests for police protection.
Right now, late on October 24, the story is unfolding so fast that it’s impossible to draw firm conclusions about Meghan, her father, or any of the other players, including Scotland Yard.
But I’d still question the wisdom of Meghan’s statement on Friday.
More to come on this.