'Why impose a tariff?'

No school shall permit a member of the male biological sex to use a student restroom

'We are heartbroken over the loss of Officer Cooper Dawson'

'It's pretty dark right now'

He starred opposite some of the greats, including Elizabeth Taylor and Katharine Hepburn

'I hope she doesn't'

'They have been a terrible neighbor'

The post Mr. Anxiety or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Trust the Cat by Wesley Nelson appeared first on Catster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren't considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Catster.com. Welcome to the Wednesday Cats of Catster! Every week, we share a story from one of our cat-loving Catsters. This week is about Wes and his fiercely cuddly Russian Blue, Raphael. Parents get it wrong all the time. When we’re children, we assume they have all the answers. Then, as we grow, we assume they have none. Since becoming a cat parent, I’ve realized the dynamic is not exclusive to human relationships. Moving flats recently taught me to be less anxious and less intense, and to trust Raphael will be okay in the end. I don’t think there is a single person in the world who actively enjoys moving. Now, not everyone feels negatively about moving; some are neutral. And most like the feeling of a new home, a new experience, but the move itself? It will be a long search for someone who enjoys one of those. Well, if that’s how we feel, imagine how poor Raphael must feel. Steph and I recently needed to move flats in London, and it was a truly harrowing endeavor. I’ll leave aside the extraneous details because this is meant to be a relaxing chat about cat life and not a rant about DIY. Safe to say, though, what was meant to be a relatively simple set of tasks turned into a nightmare. From paint to floors and even plug sockets, everything that could go wrong found a way to inconveniently do so. All of this is to say that by the time the move was “on,” after months of delay, we were wired into a frenzy of stress and anxiety (surely, moving companies have the most difficult customers in the world?). As you’ll be aware from our previous chats, Raphael is generally a very relaxed cat, but even he could sense the shared tension. Of course, something that exacerbated the tension was my desire to make the process easier for Raphael. Before the move, I read as much as possible on Catster.com regarding how to help Raphael move comfortably. In fact, in the run-up to the move, it was my main point of focus. A couple of the things I considered were: Taking his favorite blankets and spreading them around the new flat a few days in advance to send his scent through the space. Purchasing plug-in pheromone diffusers and allowing them to work for a day in advance. Gently wiping his face with a cloth and then rubbing the cloth on surfaces in the new space at ‘cat height.’ While crouched down, rubbing his blankets on our brand-new floor, I did have a moment of self-doubt. However, I quieted that voice and pressed on. On the day of the move itself, we continued with our hard work: We put him in his Hepper harness and a carrier, just in case anything went wrong. We kept him in his safe space for as long as we feasibly could, right up until the landlord’s cleaners came to clear the space. After moving, we initially isolated his available space, while he relaxed into the new environment. And these are only the items I’m comfortable sharing… Now, I have to admit something at this stage. Steph felt I was being too anxious. You’d be mistaken if you were under the impression she cares any less about Raphael than I do, but she believed that as a reasonably adventurous cat, and a calm one at that, he’d take to the move without a problem. However, I think the stress of the upcoming move had driven me into an anxious frenzy, and this was my outlet. I hate to say it, dear reader. I think she was correct. Once we released him from his carrier-shaped prison and allowed him to explore, he had a whale of a time. He was super relaxed, exploring and sniffing to his heart’s content. Trotting this way, and cantering that way. Climbing here, and hopping there. Totally and utterly in his element. In fact, he was more distressed at being in a different room from us while the unpacking was going on. Kept from the action, “benched” by the team managers at the most interesting part of the game. With one raise of the eyebrow and a curl of her lip, I knew what Steph was trying to tell me, without saying it explicitly. Now, my retort was quick as a flash. Prepared and professional. With a casual air, I retorted, “Well, of course, we don’t know the counterfactual. If I hadn’t bought those diffusers, I’m sure he’d be having a terrible time right now.” As I watched him rolling around on the floor with his toy, did I believe my own words? I wouldn’t want to comment… What I do know is this: it taught me that Raphael is far more capable, comfortable, and accomplished than I give him credit for. He’s always rolled with the punches before, and this was no exception. I think he became an outlet for my own anxieties, and that was a mistake. Did my efforts help him feel more comfortable? I’m sure they did, and do I regret trying? Definitely not. However, in the future, I’ll be a little more trusting of our calm companion. To make me feel better, please tell me about a time you moved with a pet and felt too anxious! This article features Wes and Raphael in our Wednesday Cats of Catster series. Read his previous article: An Introduction to Raphael in Eight Questions (and Answers) The post Mr. Anxiety or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Trust the Cat by Wesley Nelson appeared first on Catster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren't considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Catster.com.

When I was a teenager, the sleek, uber-cool Jaguars featured in movies like “The Italian Job” and “Die Another Day” were the epitome of dream cars. Today, when I can finally afford such a vehicle (and happen to be in the market for a new car) Jaguar just removed itself from my consideration list. True, I am an anecdote of one. But I’m also a branding professional who’s shaking his head at the recklessness of Jaguar’s new brand campaign. And judging from the reaction on social media, I’m not the only one. What do they think they’re doing with one of the world’s most storied brands? Repositioning it, according to managing director Rawdon Glover. “We need to re-establish our brand and at a completely different price point so we need to act differently,” he told the Financial Times. “We wanted to move away from traditional automotive stereotypes.” Fair enough. But there’s a reason stereotypes become stereotypes, particularly in branding. People expect luxury sports car branding from a luxury sports car company—not a tone-deaf homage to DEI dreamworld. Sure, Jaguar must introduce itself to a new generation. All brands do from time to time. But it’s not the first automaker to be faced with such a task, and it could learn from its forebears. Imagine what it would have been like 20-some years ago to walk into an imposing boardroom at General Motors and propose to its management team that the company associate its premier brand, beloved by the Silent Generation, with the long-haired, rebellious rock-and-roll of Led Zeppelin. In the 1970s or 1980s, you would have been thrown out mid-pitch. But by the turn of the century, Cadillac’s customer base was aging out and Led Zeppelin fans had grown up, gotten jobs, had kids of their own, and possessed significant disposable income. They had become good prospective Cadillac buyers, if the brand could make itself relevant to them. The brass at GM wisely recognized the opportunity and embarked on a massive redesign of the Cadillac fleet, giving its vehicles sleek new lines and supercharged engines. The corresponding branding redesign had to be just as daring and consequential. And the branding team was up to the task. Premiering during the 2003 Super Bowl broadcast, Cadillac’s Breakthrough commercial was, in fact, a breakthrough. It wasn’t targeted to the brand’s historical customer base, but neither did it offend them. The rebranding caught the attention of the up-and-coming generation with a then 30-year-old anthem of their youth which had retained just enough of its edge to announce to the world that here was something different. And it worked. When the campaign launched, Cadillac was selling around 172,000 cars a year. Five years later, sales had risen to more than 225,000 vehicles, and GM was able to exempt Cadillac from the profit-squeezing zero-interest financing the company was offering on most of its brands. That was also when Cadillac evolved in my mind from something my grandfather would drive to something in which I might see myself someday. Jaguar could have followed a similar playbook, but those responsible for its new campaign appear to have had objectives that go beyond serving its shareholders. That’s a common occurrence these days (just ask the brass at companies like Anheuser-Busch, John Deere, Harley-Davidson, and Target), but it’s asking for trouble. According to a speech by Jaguar’s UK brand director, the company is interested in “fostering a diverse, inclusive and unified culture that is representative not only of the people who use our products, but in a society in which we all live,” going on to cite 15 DEI groups the company has established and highlight policy revisions including transitioning at work. I suspect that’s where things went awry. There are dozens of vehicle options for the luxury automotive buyer, each of which must remain laser-focused on a thinly sliced brand positioning targeted to a distinct customer type. Commandeering a longstanding and respected brand to proffer visions of a woke, androgynous utopia anathema to its target audience is unfocused at best, counterproductive at worst. Especially following the recent release of the damning Cass Review report on gender identity services in the U.K. and an election in the U.S. in which wokeness was soundly repudiated. The timing was as bad as the idea, with one ad blogger suggesting it’s such a disaster that it may end up being revealed as a brilliant hoax.   That’s doubtful, but to be honest, one piece of supporting evidence is how the commercial self-evidently repudiates itself. Proudly proclaiming “Copy Nothing,” the spot’s saturated colors, wraithlike models, and otherworldly soundtrack could have just as easily been brought to you by Benetton or, for that matter, Skittles. We’ve seen this before. Many times.   The market will ultimately determine the success of the Jaguar rebrand, and the styling, quality, and performance of the vehicles themselves will have much to say about that. But since so much of a car’s appeal is driven by the image of the brand, it will be a shame if Jaguar is hamstrung—or worse—by this self-inflicted wound.  As one of my colleagues put it in an email exchange, “Jaguar has lost its identity. And the Jaguar workers who build the darn cars will lose their jobs.” The post Jaguar’s Wrong Turn appeared first on The Daily Signal.