In my inbox this morning -

Ford vs. Wal-Mart: A Tale of Two Companies
by David Batstone and David Chandler

The AFL-CIO has launched a major campaign to draw attention to the business practices of Wal-Mart. "The biggest corporation in America today has a business plan that lowers standards, first among its own employees and ultimately for all Americans," says John Sweeney, president of the AFL-CIO.

Is Sweeney's assessment fair and accurate? Wal-Mart, with over $250 billion in annual sales, is more often praised for its streamlined business model. Its inventory system and distribution network are beyond compare in the retail industry.

Wal-Mart's recipe for success, however, does depend as well on squeezing labor costs. The majority of its hourly workers earn less than $8.50 an hour, which means that a full-time sales clerk at Wal-Mart falls under the official U.S. poverty level for a family of four.

Nearly a century ago, Henry Ford planned for his employees to be his best customers. Challenging the conventional wisdom that the best way to maximize profits was to tailor your product to the wealthiest segment of society, Ford decided to market his black Model T as "America's Everyman car."

For Ford, mass production went hand-in-hand with mass consumption. He established a simple benchmark for worker compensation: His workers should be able to buy the product they were making. Ford promised a $5-a-day minimum wage for all his workers - twice the prevailing automobile industry average.

Doing so, Ford created a virtuous circle. Workers flocked to his factory to apply for positions. If they managed to secure a coveted job, then in time they too would be able to afford one of his cars. The company flourished on these twin pillars - a desirable product and a highly motivated employee base. By the time production of the Model T ceased in 1927, Ford had sold more than 15 million cars - half the world's output.

Compare Ford's virtuous cycle with Wal-Mart's dual strategy of ruthless cost-cutting and "Everyday low prices." On the surface, the goal is the same - produce goods that consumers want and can afford to buy. The result in implementation, however, is vastly different.

While Ford's business model helped lay the foundation for a rising middle class in America, the Wal-Mart model reinforces downward mobility. Wal-Mart today is the largest commercial employer of labor in the United States. In 2002, 82 percent of American households bought something at Wal-Mart. Americans must love to shop at Wal-Mart; on the other hand, maybe they have no choice. A sizeable percentage of Wal-Mart's sales come from low-income households.

The effort to minimize production costs is a legitimate business strategy; no argument there. But does Wal-Mart realize that the employees whose wages they squeeze are often the customers upon whom they rely to fuel their business?

While Ford created demand and wealth with a new and innovative product, Wal-Mart displaces existing demand - siphoning consumption from elsewhere by under-cutting prices. Wal-Mart sets the pricing agenda in whichever market it enters. Suppliers and competitors are squeezed - forced either to push jobs overseas themselves, or forced out of business altogether. For every Wal-Mart supercenter that opens in the next five years, two other supermarkets will close.

Now that it has reached the bargain basement on domestic production costs, Wal-Mart is increasingly turning to overseas operations to stock its shelves. Wal-Mart's domination of the U.S. retail economy has ramifications beyond its own profit margin.

Many economists present Wal-Mart as a net-positive for the U.S. economy. The popular interpretation of anti-trust law today holds that large companies are only a threat to the community if their dominance results in rising prices for consumers. Hence, Wal-Mart escapes regulation because the company's domination of the retail sector delivers lower prices, across the board. Little long-term thought is given to the wider implications of the methods the company uses to produce those lower prices.

The single-minded pursuit of economic growth can exact a heavy toll on a community. Our economic goal of creating wealth should coincide with our ideals of human and societal development. In today's business environment dominated by Wal-Mart, Henry Ford's ideas would be as revolutionary as they were when they were first applied.

David Batstone is author of Saving the Corporate Soul and Executive Editor of Sojourners magazine.

David Chandler is the Associate Director of the Center for Non-Profit Management at the University of Miami (FL).

In my inbox this morning -

Ford vs. Wal-Mart: A Tale of Two Companies
by David Batstone and David Chandler

The AFL-CIO has launched a major campaign to draw attention to the business practices of Wal-Mart. "The biggest corporation in America today has a business plan that lowers standards, first among its own employees and ultimately for all Americans," says John Sweeney, president of the AFL-CIO.

Is Sweeney's assessment fair and accurate? Wal-Mart, with over $250 billion in annual sales, is more often praised for its streamlined business model. Its inventory system and distribution network are beyond compare in the retail industry.

Wal-Mart's recipe for success, however, does depend as well on squeezing labor costs. The majority of its hourly workers earn less than $8.50 an hour, which means that a full-time sales clerk at Wal-Mart falls under the official U.S. poverty level for a family of four.

Nearly a century ago, Henry Ford planned for his employees to be his best customers. Challenging the conventional wisdom that the best way to maximize profits was to tailor your product to the wealthiest segment of society, Ford decided to market his black Model T as "America's Everyman car."

For Ford, mass production went hand-in-hand with mass consumption. He established a simple benchmark for worker compensation: His workers should be able to buy the product they were making. Ford promised a $5-a-day minimum wage for all his workers - twice the prevailing automobile industry average.

Doing so, Ford created a virtuous circle. Workers flocked to his factory to apply for positions. If they managed to secure a coveted job, then in time they too would be able to afford one of his cars. The company flourished on these twin pillars - a desirable product and a highly motivated employee base. By the time production of the Model T ceased in 1927, Ford had sold more than 15 million cars - half the world's output.

Compare Ford's virtuous cycle with Wal-Mart's dual strategy of ruthless cost-cutting and "Everyday low prices." On the surface, the goal is the same - produce goods that consumers want and can afford to buy. The result in implementation, however, is vastly different.

While Ford's business model helped lay the foundation for a rising middle class in America, the Wal-Mart model reinforces downward mobility. Wal-Mart today is the largest commercial employer of labor in the United States. In 2002, 82 percent of American households bought something at Wal-Mart. Americans must love to shop at Wal-Mart; on the other hand, maybe they have no choice. A sizeable percentage of Wal-Mart's sales come from low-income households.

The effort to minimize production costs is a legitimate business strategy; no argument there. But does Wal-Mart realize that the employees whose wages they squeeze are often the customers upon whom they rely to fuel their business?

While Ford created demand and wealth with a new and innovative product, Wal-Mart displaces existing demand - siphoning consumption from elsewhere by under-cutting prices. Wal-Mart sets the pricing agenda in whichever market it enters. Suppliers and competitors are squeezed - forced either to push jobs overseas themselves, or forced out of business altogether. For every Wal-Mart supercenter that opens in the next five years, two other supermarkets will close.

Now that it has reached the bargain basement on domestic production costs, Wal-Mart is increasingly turning to overseas operations to stock its shelves. Wal-Mart's domination of the U.S. retail economy has ramifications beyond its own profit margin.

Many economists present Wal-Mart as a net-positive for the U.S. economy. The popular interpretation of anti-trust law today holds that large companies are only a threat to the community if their dominance results in rising prices for consumers. Hence, Wal-Mart escapes regulation because the company's domination of the retail sector delivers lower prices, across the board. Little long-term thought is given to the wider implications of the methods the company uses to produce those lower prices.

The single-minded pursuit of economic growth can exact a heavy toll on a community. Our economic goal of creating wealth should coincide with our ideals of human and societal development. In today's business environment dominated by Wal-Mart, Henry Ford's ideas would be as revolutionary as they were when they were first applied.

David Batstone is author of Saving the Corporate Soul and Executive Editor of Sojourners magazine.

David Chandler is the Associate Director of the Center for Non-Profit Management at the University of Miami (FL).

In my inbox this morning -

Ford vs. Wal-Mart: A Tale of Two Companies
by David Batstone and David Chandler

The AFL-CIO has launched a major campaign to draw attention to the business practices of Wal-Mart. "The biggest corporation in America today has a business plan that lowers standards, first among its own employees and ultimately for all Americans," says John Sweeney, president of the AFL-CIO.

Is Sweeney's assessment fair and accurate? Wal-Mart, with over $250 billion in annual sales, is more often praised for its streamlined business model. Its inventory system and distribution network are beyond compare in the retail industry.

Wal-Mart's recipe for success, however, does depend as well on squeezing labor costs. The majority of its hourly workers earn less than $8.50 an hour, which means that a full-time sales clerk at Wal-Mart falls under the official U.S. poverty level for a family of four.

Nearly a century ago, Henry Ford planned for his employees to be his best customers. Challenging the conventional wisdom that the best way to maximize profits was to tailor your product to the wealthiest segment of society, Ford decided to market his black Model T as "America's Everyman car."

For Ford, mass production went hand-in-hand with mass consumption. He established a simple benchmark for worker compensation: His workers should be able to buy the product they were making. Ford promised a $5-a-day minimum wage for all his workers - twice the prevailing automobile industry average.

Doing so, Ford created a virtuous circle. Workers flocked to his factory to apply for positions. If they managed to secure a coveted job, then in time they too would be able to afford one of his cars. The company flourished on these twin pillars - a desirable product and a highly motivated employee base. By the time production of the Model T ceased in 1927, Ford had sold more than 15 million cars - half the world's output.

Compare Ford's virtuous cycle with Wal-Mart's dual strategy of ruthless cost-cutting and "Everyday low prices." On the surface, the goal is the same - produce goods that consumers want and can afford to buy. The result in implementation, however, is vastly different.

While Ford's business model helped lay the foundation for a rising middle class in America, the Wal-Mart model reinforces downward mobility. Wal-Mart today is the largest commercial employer of labor in the United States. In 2002, 82 percent of American households bought something at Wal-Mart. Americans must love to shop at Wal-Mart; on the other hand, maybe they have no choice. A sizeable percentage of Wal-Mart's sales come from low-income households.

The effort to minimize production costs is a legitimate business strategy; no argument there. But does Wal-Mart realize that the employees whose wages they squeeze are often the customers upon whom they rely to fuel their business?

While Ford created demand and wealth with a new and innovative product, Wal-Mart displaces existing demand - siphoning consumption from elsewhere by under-cutting prices. Wal-Mart sets the pricing agenda in whichever market it enters. Suppliers and competitors are squeezed - forced either to push jobs overseas themselves, or forced out of business altogether. For every Wal-Mart supercenter that opens in the next five years, two other supermarkets will close.

Now that it has reached the bargain basement on domestic production costs, Wal-Mart is increasingly turning to overseas operations to stock its shelves. Wal-Mart's domination of the U.S. retail economy has ramifications beyond its own profit margin.

Many economists present Wal-Mart as a net-positive for the U.S. economy. The popular interpretation of anti-trust law today holds that large companies are only a threat to the community if their dominance results in rising prices for consumers. Hence, Wal-Mart escapes regulation because the company's domination of the retail sector delivers lower prices, across the board. Little long-term thought is given to the wider implications of the methods the company uses to produce those lower prices.

The single-minded pursuit of economic growth can exact a heavy toll on a community. Our economic goal of creating wealth should coincide with our ideals of human and societal development. In today's business environment dominated by Wal-Mart, Henry Ford's ideas would be as revolutionary as they were when they were first applied.

David Batstone is author of Saving the Corporate Soul and Executive Editor of Sojourners magazine.

David Chandler is the Associate Director of the Center for Non-Profit Management at the University of Miami (FL).

And more - *cackles* God, I wish I had been there -

Think outside the big box: Carolers kicked out of stores
by Will Braun

Last Saturday I got kicked out of one mall and four big box stores - a Christmas shopping first for me. Twenty-five people and I, who probably go to church more often than the mall, were there to sing Christmas carols, evidently the kind that get people banished from the fluorescent premises of holiday madness.

Imagine standing in the checkout line at the local Super-Mega Deal-o-rama - in this case, in snowy Winnipeg, Canada - as a cheerful troupe of well-wishers march in the door singing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" - or no, wait...those aren't the traditional lyrics:

Slow down ye frantic shoppers for there's something we must say
If you would spare a moment all the stores would go away
Big business has been telling us what Christmas means today
Now it's time we decided for ourselves, for ourselves
Yes, it's time we decided for ourselves...

Our record was three full songs before being escorted out (in that case, politely). The opposition to our commercial sacrilege, however, did not come from shoppers. We might have been a fringe group oddly immune to public embarrassment, but shoppers didn't treat us that way. Many were curious, some indifferent, and a few responded as though they'd met a long-lost friend.

The Buy Nothing Christmas campaign, the impetus for our singing spree, taps into increasing societal fatigue around the high-pressure commercial Christmas season. The four-year-old international campaign is inspired by Adbuster’s Buy Nothing Day, and the driving force behind it is Aiden Enns, former managing editor at Adbusters magazine. The campaign has Christian origins but appeals more broadly, not unlike the event it seeks to redeem. A campaign poster has Jesus asking, "Where did I say that you should buy so much stuff to celebrate my birthday?"

Enns, a member of Hope Mennonite Church in Winnipeg, says there is a "ready hunger" for the message, citing 3,000-plus daily visitors to buynothingchristmas.org in recent days.

Enns joined our group, which also included a strong United Church youth contingent. For him, retail caroling is less a protest than an invitation to a less frenzied and happier Christmas experience. As for getting ousted from retail establishments, Enns says "mischief is a good thing if something's wrong with 'normal.'" And besides, it's festive mischief. When permitted, we ended a store visit with a hearty round of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" (traditional lyrics).

We banked on the fact that Christmas is the only season in which amateur public singing makes social sense (even if just barely). It's a unique season. There's a tinge of spiritual nostalgia in the air, something that draws one back to those things that most satisfy the human spirit - family, fun, song, goodwill, and even religion. Society breaks out in a bit of a smile.

Our message was a simple call to follow this seasonal inclination toward cheer and goodwill, rather than getting sidetracked by the stuff. It has an intuitive appeal for many. Perhaps people are getting weary of the contradictions. We feel drawn to basic human goodness, yet find ourselves stuck in Deal-orama seeking the perfect gift for that special someone who has everything but who will nonetheless get our "Made in China" plastic package of holiday affection.

Last Valentine's Day, the same mall that disapproved of our carols boldly advertised: "Yes, you can buy love." I e-mailed the mall manager wanting to hear someone defend such a bold-faced contradiction of what we've all known to be true since childhood. Her logic, by necessity, was as counterintuitive as the original claim, a logic akin to that which somehow compels us back into the perennial stress of Christmas excess.

Enns notes little difference between churchgoers and others when it comes to shopping. "That's a sad commentary on the church's compliance with consumer culture." A recent poll conducted by the Center for a New American Dream found widespread disillusionment with consumerism and materialism among Americans. A full 86% of those polled said they are more interested in pursuing "more of what matters in life," as opposed to a "more is better" tack.

The Buy Nothing Christmas campaign grants cultural permission to opt out of the frenzy, to celebrate more than just stuff. The campaign Web site provides a "catalogue" of non-purchased gift ideas and suggestions for making Christmas less stressful, more fun, and more meaningful. And there's nothing Scrooge-like about it: we were the happiest people in the mall.

I am not a hard-core Buy Nothing adherent, but I am pleased with my idea for a non-purchased gift for my father-in-law (whose name I drew). And my "shopped-until-she-dropped" Mom seems to have proclaimed a gift-free Christmas on my side of the family. If we had kids, more creativity would be required.

I know this Christmas will be at least as good as any other. And I suspect next year my holiday nostalgia will include a faint longing for some festive mischief.

Will Braun is a Mennonite writer from Winnipeg, Canada. He can be reached at benottobraun@yahoo.ca.

And more - *cackles* God, I wish I had been there -

Think outside the big box: Carolers kicked out of stores
by Will Braun

Last Saturday I got kicked out of one mall and four big box stores - a Christmas shopping first for me. Twenty-five people and I, who probably go to church more often than the mall, were there to sing Christmas carols, evidently the kind that get people banished from the fluorescent premises of holiday madness.

Imagine standing in the checkout line at the local Super-Mega Deal-o-rama - in this case, in snowy Winnipeg, Canada - as a cheerful troupe of well-wishers march in the door singing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" - or no, wait...those aren't the traditional lyrics:

Slow down ye frantic shoppers for there's something we must say
If you would spare a moment all the stores would go away
Big business has been telling us what Christmas means today
Now it's time we decided for ourselves, for ourselves
Yes, it's time we decided for ourselves...

Our record was three full songs before being escorted out (in that case, politely). The opposition to our commercial sacrilege, however, did not come from shoppers. We might have been a fringe group oddly immune to public embarrassment, but shoppers didn't treat us that way. Many were curious, some indifferent, and a few responded as though they'd met a long-lost friend.

The Buy Nothing Christmas campaign, the impetus for our singing spree, taps into increasing societal fatigue around the high-pressure commercial Christmas season. The four-year-old international campaign is inspired by Adbuster’s Buy Nothing Day, and the driving force behind it is Aiden Enns, former managing editor at Adbusters magazine. The campaign has Christian origins but appeals more broadly, not unlike the event it seeks to redeem. A campaign poster has Jesus asking, "Where did I say that you should buy so much stuff to celebrate my birthday?"

Enns, a member of Hope Mennonite Church in Winnipeg, says there is a "ready hunger" for the message, citing 3,000-plus daily visitors to buynothingchristmas.org in recent days.

Enns joined our group, which also included a strong United Church youth contingent. For him, retail caroling is less a protest than an invitation to a less frenzied and happier Christmas experience. As for getting ousted from retail establishments, Enns says "mischief is a good thing if something's wrong with 'normal.'" And besides, it's festive mischief. When permitted, we ended a store visit with a hearty round of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" (traditional lyrics).

We banked on the fact that Christmas is the only season in which amateur public singing makes social sense (even if just barely). It's a unique season. There's a tinge of spiritual nostalgia in the air, something that draws one back to those things that most satisfy the human spirit - family, fun, song, goodwill, and even religion. Society breaks out in a bit of a smile.

Our message was a simple call to follow this seasonal inclination toward cheer and goodwill, rather than getting sidetracked by the stuff. It has an intuitive appeal for many. Perhaps people are getting weary of the contradictions. We feel drawn to basic human goodness, yet find ourselves stuck in Deal-orama seeking the perfect gift for that special someone who has everything but who will nonetheless get our "Made in China" plastic package of holiday affection.

Last Valentine's Day, the same mall that disapproved of our carols boldly advertised: "Yes, you can buy love." I e-mailed the mall manager wanting to hear someone defend such a bold-faced contradiction of what we've all known to be true since childhood. Her logic, by necessity, was as counterintuitive as the original claim, a logic akin to that which somehow compels us back into the perennial stress of Christmas excess.

Enns notes little difference between churchgoers and others when it comes to shopping. "That's a sad commentary on the church's compliance with consumer culture." A recent poll conducted by the Center for a New American Dream found widespread disillusionment with consumerism and materialism among Americans. A full 86% of those polled said they are more interested in pursuing "more of what matters in life," as opposed to a "more is better" tack.

The Buy Nothing Christmas campaign grants cultural permission to opt out of the frenzy, to celebrate more than just stuff. The campaign Web site provides a "catalogue" of non-purchased gift ideas and suggestions for making Christmas less stressful, more fun, and more meaningful. And there's nothing Scrooge-like about it: we were the happiest people in the mall.

I am not a hard-core Buy Nothing adherent, but I am pleased with my idea for a non-purchased gift for my father-in-law (whose name I drew). And my "shopped-until-she-dropped" Mom seems to have proclaimed a gift-free Christmas on my side of the family. If we had kids, more creativity would be required.

I know this Christmas will be at least as good as any other. And I suspect next year my holiday nostalgia will include a faint longing for some festive mischief.

Will Braun is a Mennonite writer from Winnipeg, Canada. He can be reached at benottobraun@yahoo.ca.

And more - *cackles* God, I wish I had been there -

Think outside the big box: Carolers kicked out of stores
by Will Braun

Last Saturday I got kicked out of one mall and four big box stores - a Christmas shopping first for me. Twenty-five people and I, who probably go to church more often than the mall, were there to sing Christmas carols, evidently the kind that get people banished from the fluorescent premises of holiday madness.

Imagine standing in the checkout line at the local Super-Mega Deal-o-rama - in this case, in snowy Winnipeg, Canada - as a cheerful troupe of well-wishers march in the door singing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" - or no, wait...those aren't the traditional lyrics:

Slow down ye frantic shoppers for there's something we must say
If you would spare a moment all the stores would go away
Big business has been telling us what Christmas means today
Now it's time we decided for ourselves, for ourselves
Yes, it's time we decided for ourselves...

Our record was three full songs before being escorted out (in that case, politely). The opposition to our commercial sacrilege, however, did not come from shoppers. We might have been a fringe group oddly immune to public embarrassment, but shoppers didn't treat us that way. Many were curious, some indifferent, and a few responded as though they'd met a long-lost friend.

The Buy Nothing Christmas campaign, the impetus for our singing spree, taps into increasing societal fatigue around the high-pressure commercial Christmas season. The four-year-old international campaign is inspired by Adbuster’s Buy Nothing Day, and the driving force behind it is Aiden Enns, former managing editor at Adbusters magazine. The campaign has Christian origins but appeals more broadly, not unlike the event it seeks to redeem. A campaign poster has Jesus asking, "Where did I say that you should buy so much stuff to celebrate my birthday?"

Enns, a member of Hope Mennonite Church in Winnipeg, says there is a "ready hunger" for the message, citing 3,000-plus daily visitors to buynothingchristmas.org in recent days.

Enns joined our group, which also included a strong United Church youth contingent. For him, retail caroling is less a protest than an invitation to a less frenzied and happier Christmas experience. As for getting ousted from retail establishments, Enns says "mischief is a good thing if something's wrong with 'normal.'" And besides, it's festive mischief. When permitted, we ended a store visit with a hearty round of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" (traditional lyrics).

We banked on the fact that Christmas is the only season in which amateur public singing makes social sense (even if just barely). It's a unique season. There's a tinge of spiritual nostalgia in the air, something that draws one back to those things that most satisfy the human spirit - family, fun, song, goodwill, and even religion. Society breaks out in a bit of a smile.

Our message was a simple call to follow this seasonal inclination toward cheer and goodwill, rather than getting sidetracked by the stuff. It has an intuitive appeal for many. Perhaps people are getting weary of the contradictions. We feel drawn to basic human goodness, yet find ourselves stuck in Deal-orama seeking the perfect gift for that special someone who has everything but who will nonetheless get our "Made in China" plastic package of holiday affection.

Last Valentine's Day, the same mall that disapproved of our carols boldly advertised: "Yes, you can buy love." I e-mailed the mall manager wanting to hear someone defend such a bold-faced contradiction of what we've all known to be true since childhood. Her logic, by necessity, was as counterintuitive as the original claim, a logic akin to that which somehow compels us back into the perennial stress of Christmas excess.

Enns notes little difference between churchgoers and others when it comes to shopping. "That's a sad commentary on the church's compliance with consumer culture." A recent poll conducted by the Center for a New American Dream found widespread disillusionment with consumerism and materialism among Americans. A full 86% of those polled said they are more interested in pursuing "more of what matters in life," as opposed to a "more is better" tack.

The Buy Nothing Christmas campaign grants cultural permission to opt out of the frenzy, to celebrate more than just stuff. The campaign Web site provides a "catalogue" of non-purchased gift ideas and suggestions for making Christmas less stressful, more fun, and more meaningful. And there's nothing Scrooge-like about it: we were the happiest people in the mall.

I am not a hard-core Buy Nothing adherent, but I am pleased with my idea for a non-purchased gift for my father-in-law (whose name I drew). And my "shopped-until-she-dropped" Mom seems to have proclaimed a gift-free Christmas on my side of the family. If we had kids, more creativity would be required.

I know this Christmas will be at least as good as any other. And I suspect next year my holiday nostalgia will include a faint longing for some festive mischief.

Will Braun is a Mennonite writer from Winnipeg, Canada. He can be reached at benottobraun@yahoo.ca.

You know we're having a Christmas Eve Open House -

You know that, don't you? Want to come and haven't gotten an eVite or other invitation? Tell me and all can be arranged.

We're MST3K Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - curtain goes up about 11:30. (House opens at 10:30 AM.)

Current quotes have me in stitches - useless without the verbal work Jim does.

See ya!

You know we're having a Christmas Eve Open House -

You know that, don't you? Want to come and haven't gotten an eVite or other invitation? Tell me and all can be arranged.

We're MST3K Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - curtain goes up about 11:30. (House opens at 10:30 AM.)

Current quotes have me in stitches - useless without the verbal work Jim does.

See ya!

You know we're having a Christmas Eve Open House -

You know that, don't you? Want to come and haven't gotten an eVite or other invitation? Tell me and all can be arranged.

We're MST3K Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - curtain goes up about 11:30. (House opens at 10:30 AM.)

Current quotes have me in stitches - useless without the verbal work Jim does.

See ya!