WIRTW #793: the 'Waterloo Sunset' edition

Last Friday in Covent Garden, a street performer pulled me into his act.

"Where are you from?"
"America."

The boos came right on cue. Not playful. Not ironic. Real boos. Not from everyone—but from enough to feel it.

And yes, I knew they were coming. Anyone paying attention to how the world currently sees the U.S. knows. Still, hearing it live hits differently. It stings. Because I hate being cast as the villain—especially when I oppose with every fiber of my being everything that America has become since January 20, 2025.

But in that moment, none of that mattered. I wasn't me. I was "America."

That's the point.

The rest of the world isn't parsing our politics the way we do. They're not distinguishing between voters and non-voters, between MAGA and anti-MAGA. They see the country. Full stop.

The passport does the talking—and right now, it's not saying anything flattering.

To be clear, that moment wasn't my overall experience. Over six days in London, everyone we met was warm, welcoming, and eager to talk. And when the conversation turned to U.S. politics, the reaction was universal: They hate Trump. Not politely. Not abstractly. Viscerally.

But here's the uncomfortable truth: even when people separate you from the politics in conversation, the reputation still sticks at a distance. Countries are judged by what their governments do. Period.

And when a nation elects leaders who attack democratic norms, cozy up to authoritarians, alienate allies, and uproot the world order without thought or care for the global consequences, the world doesn't carve out exceptions for those who voted the other way.

They just see the country. Which means we carry it—all of us.

That's frustrating. It's unfair. It's also reality.

For a long time, Americans treated politics as a domestic sport. Something that affected us internally. Not anymore. The damage is global. And it shows up in small, uncomfortable moments—like a crowd booing when you say where you're from.

That moment wasn't about me. It couldn't have been. They didn't know me. All they knew was that I'm American—and that alone was enough, because their reaction was about what "America" currently represents.

Reputations aren't permanent. They're earned. They can be lost. And, with hard work, they can be regained. If we don't like how the world sees us right now, there's only one way to change it. We don't get to shrug it off. We don't get to pretend it's not our problem. It is our problem. And it's time we started fixing it.

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To hear a full recap of our Spring Break (or Spreak, as my daughter calls it) adventure in London, tune into this week's episode of The Norah and Dad Show, available via Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube, Amazon Music, Overcast, your browser, and everywhere else you get your podcasts.

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Here's what I read this week that you should read, too.

Lawsuits aren't lottery tickets. Or at least they shouldn't be.

Too often, plaintiffs' lawyers file thin, borderline frivolous employment claims hoping for a quick nuisance-value settlement. The math is simple: it's cheaper for an employer to pay a few thousand dollars to make a case disappear than to spend tens (or hundreds) of thousands defending it.

And yes, sometimes that works. The business case often just makes sense for businesses.

But not always. Plenty of employers—especially those who believe they've done nothing wrong—will dig in and fight. Hard.

That's where the real disservice to the employee begins.

5 steps for an employer to win an off-the-clock overtime claim

Jerry Merritt, an agency manager for the Texas Farm Bureau, claimed 816 hours of unpaid overtime. Even assuming he had been misclassified as an independent contractor, he still lost.

Here's why.

Bribery scandals don't start with bad employees; they start with bad culture

When a bribery scandal hits a company, the corporate response is almost always the same: These were bad employees acting on their own.

Maybe. But usually not.

Consider the current mess involving Southern Glazer's Wine & Spirits, the largest alcohol distributor in the United States. 

WIRTW #792: the 'CBC' edition

Happy staff brew better beer.

It's obvious when you think about it.

A team that feels respected, valued, and heard shows up differently. They care more. They collaborate better. They solve problems faster. And yes—the beer, the taproom experience, and the business all benefit.

Yet for an industry built on passion, craft, and community, too many breweries still struggle with workplace culture.

Long hours. Thin margins. High stress. High turnover.

It's easy to focus all your energy on recipes, distribution, and survival while overlooking the single most important ingredient in your brewery: your people.

And when that happens, the consequences show up fast—burnout, disengagement, toxic dynamics, and constant turnover.

Replacing an employee isn’t cheap. Depending on the role, it can cost up to 50% of that employee's annual salary to recruit, hire, and train someone new. In breweries—where production and taproom roles already see high turnover—that cost adds up quickly.

But here's the good news: building a great workplace culture doesn't require a massive budget or a full-time HR department.

It requires intention.

That’s exactly what I'll be talking about at the Craft Brewers Conference this April in Philly.

Happy Staff, Better Craft: Brewing a Better Workplace
📅 Wednesday, April 22
⏰ 10:15–11:15 AM
📍 Room 201-AB

In this session, we'll dig into the connection between employee engagement and brewery success—and why culture isn't just a feel-good concept, but a real business strategy.

We’ll talk about:

• Why happy employees make better beer (and better customer experiences)
• How better communication can prevent most workplace conflicts before they start
• Simple, low-cost ways to recognize and reward your team
• How to design brewing and taproom jobs people actually want to stay in
• What leadership looks like when you lead like a worker instead of a boss

My goal isn't theory. It's practical tools.

The brewing industry is full of passionate people who love what they do. But passion alone isn't a workplace strategy. If breweries want to thrive long term, they have to invest in the people who make the beer, pour the pints, and represent the brand every day.

Great breweries don't just brew great beer.

They build great workplaces.

If you're heading to CBC this year, come join me. I'd love to see you there—and talk about how happier teams can help build stronger breweries.

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Here's what I read this week that you should read, too.

A dollar saved, a tip credit destroyed

Sometimes a case turns on complex legal questions or convoluted fact patterns. Other times it turns on something far simpler—like a single dollar.

 
In Dugan v. Reservoir Restaurant Inc., a $1 deduction just cost a restaurant its entire tip credit. A federal court handed the plaintiffs (a class of servers) a summary judgment win because their employer deducted $1 per shift from their tips to cover items like silverware, pens, and similar supplies.

Here's the setup. The restaurant paid its servers the tipped minimum wage of $2.13 per hour, relying on the FLSA's tip credit to bridge the gap to the $7.25 federal minimum wage. But every shift, the restaurant also took $1 directly from the servers' tips to reimburse the business for operating supplies.

That's where things went sideways.

There are no “quick favors” in wage-and-hour law

"Can you just help with this for a minute?"

That's how off-the-clock cases start.

Not with an intent to steal wages, but with an innocent call for help.

In Arnold v. Marriott, a hotel employee alleges that during busy holiday seasons he and others were directed to help with conference and event setups while not clocked in — including during lunch. Supervisors allegedly observed pre-shift work and didn't ensure it was recorded. On one occasion, when he asked whether he'd be paid for responding to work texts during lunch, he was told yes — but claims he wasn't. He also alleges he raised concerns with management and nothing changed.