My Experience with Blue Apron

While recognizing that my somewhat cushy existence as an at-home dad/musician/writer doesn’t give me much leeway for complaining, after being the primary meal planner and preparer of the house for the past twenty years, I decided that I needed a break.  It wasn’t so much the shopping and cooking that bothered me as it was the planning.  Deciding what to eat in order to satisfy everyone’s tastes and restrictions was getting to be a mental chore, so for my 50th birthday I requested a gift certificate to Blue Apron, a meal delivery service that supplies its customers with all the ingredients needed to cook recipes you choose on-line.  Easy peasy, and it seemed like a fine antidote to the meal planning virus I’d contracted. 

While I’ve enjoyed aspects of the service, after eight weeks of using Blue Apron, I’ve decided that the pros don’t outweigh the cons, and this morning I cancelled my service.  Let me preface this by saying that if both my wife and I were working full-time, I might not be so quick to abort the mission.  The fact that I have a lot of flexibility to shop and prepare meals changes the ledger considerably.

So why did I cancel?  There were three things that made me feel uneasy about the service, as good as it might be. 

First, it’s not cheap.  I of course knew that going in, but seeing the bill show up on the credit card each week started to wear on me, especially knowing full-well that I could easily drive to a grocery store to pick up whatever food I needed at a fraction of the cost.  I was paying $10 per person per meal, so $80 a week.  This is not unbelievably expensive, and I doubt a company could do it for much less, but nevertheless, price was one nagging concern.

Second, I found my shopping to be much less frequent, which on the surface is a good thing, but my trips became so infrequent and my habits so poor that our food inventory suffered as a result.  It was so easy to say “I’ve got dinner all set for tonight – we can hang in there one more day before I do another shopping run” that we’d be left to face a breakfast of toast and a lunch of peanut butter sandwiches (not that there's anything wrong with that).  We also kept running out of basic items like milk, yogurt and bananas.  In short, I grew terribly lazy and used Blue Apron as an excuse to avoid shopping at all costs.

But the biggest reason for cancelling the service is the staggering amount of waste created each week by the Blue Apron deliveries.  As a guy who started recycling two decades before curbside pickup was a thing, unnecessary waste is an important point for me.  Ellen Cushing wrote a nice summary of the waste incurred with a service like Blue Apron (competitors have similar issues) and the somewhat disingenuous claim that most of the materials can be recycled.  Blue Apron used to have a free recycling program that allowed customers to send all the contents back to the company, but this has been cancelled, no doubt due to the cost.

If Blue Apron or a service like it could be localized so that – like the Chicago-based Oberweis dairy deliver service – we could have a cooler with reusable ice packs, I would be on-board.  Eliminate the box and the ice packs, include a synthetic insulator to separate cold items from the rest, and this could be a service that yields nothing more than a few small plastic bags.  

There are also grocery delivery businesses like Instacart and Peapod that are good fits for some people, and I may one day yield to that temptation, but for now I’m going to go back to shopping more regularly and forcing my family to share the burden by choosing a few meals each week that they want me to shop and cook for.  At least that’s the plan.  How long before it goes awry?

Our Kids' Lives: Regimented and Expensive

I spend a boatload of cash each year for my son to do something I did for free as a kid. And it annoys the crap out of me.

On Facebook a friend of mine recently posted the following article from the Washington Post:  “I send my kids to sleep-away camp to give them a competitive advantage in life.” These kind of headlines are meant to elicit a response. One camp might be thinking, “Holy crap. I’ve never sent my kids to over-night camp. Could I be denying his opportunity to get into an Ivy League school?” Another camp might think, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Whatever happened to sending kids to camp so that they have a great time?” 

The content of the essay is more thoughtful than the headline, and the takeaway is this: some of the basic things we did as kids for fun may have been beneficial for us in ways we didn’t even know, and it might behoove us as parents to – as the author Laura Clydesdale writes – opt out of the "things-to-put-on-the-college-application arms race.” Instead of creating walking, talking resumes, why not nourish thoughtful, creative, independent human beings? That’s really the goal. The fact that a thoughtful, creative and independent human being will invariably have a competitive edge over robotic peers is icing on the cake.

Several years ago I read an excellent book called “The Last Child in the Woods: Saving our Children from Nature-Deficit disorder.” In it author Richard Louv creates a compelling case for allowing our children to break out of the regimented lifestyles we’ve created for our kids – much of it indoors – and instead give them more access to nature, which not only feeds a child’s development, but can also help alleviate symptoms of ADD, obesity and other widespread ailments of today’s children. Even something as basic is going camping as a family can provide a huge benefit for children, and ultimately provide a huge benefit for nature, as people who have a relationship with nature are far more likely to fight to save it. Time spent at a camp, where a kid can break away from wired worlds, take some time to reflect, and experience activities that are foreign to a life in the city or suburbs, can be as mentally and physically beneficial as it is downright fun.

Now, here’s my beef with all of this. Today, every activity our children are engaged in seems to be planned and administered by adults, and overnight camp is of course no exception. This also means it costs money.

My son plays drums in a band. I played keyboard in a band when I was a teenager. In my son’s band, adults pick the players, adults pick the songs, adults pick who plays on which songs, adults provide the equipment, adults plan the gigs and adults provide logistics. In my band, adults did nothing except provide a space for practice and offer an occasional ride. My son’s band costs me thousands of dollars a year. My band cost me nothing except an occasional headache as we tried to figure out the lyrics to songs pre-Internet.

I learned a lot by being in a band with other teenagers. I learned how to compromise, I learned how to not overplay (though this took several years), I learned about how to get along with different types of people, and I learned about my limitations as a performer, as a musician, and – at times – as a human being. My son has learned some of these things too, but nothing that he’s experienced can compare to sitting in a room with four other musicians and saying, “Okay. We need to learn thirty songs and find a gig so that we can play them. Ready?” There’s no doubt in my mind that my experience was richer and more developmental than my son’s has been.

Similarly, I never went to camp as a child. But I did ride my bike constantly, I walked my dog through the expansive fields behind the middle school near my home, and I played in numerous forests in my hometown, where I would make up games with my friends, climb trees, get into arguments, injure myself or others, and – on a particularly lucky day - discover a Penthouse that a classmate kept hidden in the hallow of a tree. Again, I did this for free. And as cool and rich as my children’s camp experiences have been all these years, I’m not sure the adult-supervised activities provided the same benefit as my independent ventures did.

What’s particularly problematic is this: unless you reach critical mass, “opting-out” simply means your kid spends time alone (which does have some benefits but also its limitations). I would like my son to quit his organized, adult-supervised band, but unless I can convince other parents to do the same, it will lead to a band of one. Not so much fun. Breaking away from regimentation only works when you convince others to do the same.

So what’s the answer? Well, I am going to make a concerted appeal to the parents of my son’s band to quit organized music and have our sons and daughters move forward on their own. Will I be successful? I kind of doubt it. But our kids know how to play their instruments, they know fellow musicians, and now it’s time to sink or swim. My son will be richer for it, and if I succeed, so will his parents.

A smartphone cost-savings alternative

I’m all for spending money where it matters.  For some people, that might be cars or vacations.  For others, fine dining and bottles of wine.  For me, I don’t mind spending money on live musical acts or my yearly pilgrimage to Lambeau  Field.  But I hate spending money on stuff that I don’t particularly value in the first place.  I’ve managed to avoid paying for cable for the past fourteen years, so that’s something, but I still piss away about $90 on a landline and Internet service each month, which irritates the hell out of me. 

Three years ago I purchased my first cell-phone – a dumb phone – and paid a monthly fee of $15 for its use.  Not too bad, but after three years it finally started going on the fritz, so I recently took the plunge into the smart phone waters, hopeful that I could do so without signing away my firstborn to one of the big providers.  A couple of years ago, this might have been an impossible task, but today there are a number of no-contract cell phone plans that are nice alternatives for certain consumers. 

I chose to go with Republic Wireless, a company that customizes the one phone it offers – the fabulous Moto X – so that it utilizes WiFi as the default, switching to a traditional cell network only when necessary.   This means that when you’re at home or in the office, you can use the WiFi available to you, which ultimately allows Republic Wireless to offer packages that are far cheaper than what you’ll find at Verizon, Sprint and AT&T.  I looked at the big providers, and generally the cost was $40 a month for the phone, plus another $50 or so for a data plan.  There are economies of scale, however, so adding another phone or two to the data plan improves the per-phone cost.   Also, the phones are free (or close to free), but that’s only as an enticement to lock you into a long-term plan.

Compare this with Republic Wireless.  Yes, there’s an upfront cost: I paid $299 for my Moto X, which seems like a lot compared to the free phone I could have gotten from one of the big providers, but it’s an excellent price for an excellent 16 GB phone, and now – here’s the best part – I only pay $10 a month to use it.  This includes data, text and phone when I’m in a WiFi network (including internationally), but only text and phone when traveling - no data.  For me this is not a big deal, as I spend most of my time at home.  But if I DO want data everywhere, Republic Wireless offers this for just $25 a month by piggybacking off of Sprint’s network.  And what's really fantastic is I’m allowed to switch plans twice a month, so if, for example, I decide I need data while traveling on vacation, I can bump my plan up to include data for a week or two, and then switch back to my normal $10 a-month plan.  Pretty cool.

Comparing costs long-term, I’ll start saving money with Republic Wireless after only four months.

Month:                 Total cost with normal plan          Total cost with Republic Wireless

1                            90                                                       310

2                            180                                                     320

3                            270                                                     330

4                            360                                                     340

Even if I decide to up my plan to include cell data service, I’ll start saving money after only five months.

1                            90                                                       325

2                            180                                                     350

3                            270                                                     375

4                            360                                                     400

5                            450                                                     425

Over three years, I’ll save between $2000 and $2600 depending on which plan I use at Republic Wireless.  Not too shabby.

If I add a second phone, the savings become slightly less per phone, since on a traditional plan you can combine data between phones.  With two phones on a traditional plan, I’d be paying $40 per phone plus another $60 for a monthly data plan – so $140 per month.  That’s compared to $20 to $50 a month with Republic Wireless (plus an initial investment of $600 to purchase the phones).  Over three years, that’s still a savings of between $2600 and $3700 total.  Again, not chump change.

Republic Wireless clearly isn’t for everyone (anyone who wants a phone other than Moto X, for instance), but it's an excellent alternative to the way things are usually done.  I suspect that in the next year or two, more and more plans will be made available to consumers that slash the cost of phone use, allowing us to spend more money on cars, fine dining or Packer tickets.

Now the question is: do I get rid of my landline?