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TIME: Almanac 1990
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1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso
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time
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041089
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04108900.022
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1990-09-22
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BUSINESS, Page 76OH, NO, HERE COMES JOE
Accompanied by a two-man television crew and three state
vegetable inspectors, Victor Shinkaretsky bursts through the doors
of a small family-leased vegetable store just around the corner
from the Kremlin. Startled customers watch as he begins rummaging
through the beets, potatoes and carrots. "We're checking for
nitrates," Shinkaretsky explains, as the inspectors set up their
portable laboratory equipment.
Soft-spoken and unassuming in private, Victor Shinkaretsky is
a bulldog on the job and on the air. Appearing several times a week
on Good Evening, Moscow!, a prime-time television show that
specializes in covering everyday headaches in the capital,
Shinkaretsky is the Ralph Nader of the U.S.S.R., the champion of
consumers in a country with precious little to consume. Though his
persistence in uncovering agriculture shortcomings has earned him
the nickname "Tomato Joe," he quickly points out, "I also expose
the problems of sanitation, transportation and theft."
Shinkaretsky, who works for state-run Gosteleradio, has no
private office, no producer, no staff. His only status symbol: a
beeper that he carries in his shirt pocket. When it flashes the
number 6, he knows to call Yuri Luzhkov, Moscow's deputy mayor and
the official in charge of the city food supply. "We're in cahoots,"
Shinkaretsky says, and winks.
For one of his most memorable pieces, Shinkaretsky posed as a
worker in a sausage factory. Passing several indifferent guards,
he walked out the factory gate and headed toward a hidden
television camera. Pulling a large ham from under his coat, he told
viewers, "You see how easy it is to steal here." After the report
was aired, the factory tightened security.
Shinkaretsky's voice is a lonely one, since the consumer
movement is just awakening in the Soviet Union. Besides a small
group of activists in the capital, there are fledgling consumer
groups in Leningrad and Kiev. A draft law was introduced in Moscow
in February that would allow customers to exchange shoddy goods,
but Shinkaretsky is not impressed. He wants to start a consumer
journal and set up a council that tests cars, stereos and,
particularly, television sets, a fire hazard because they have a
tendency to explode.
A translator for the Foreign Ministry before switching to
journalism in 1972, Shinkaretsky joined Good Evening, Moscow! three
years ago. "I decided to use glasnost to the hilt," he recalls.
Today he is often recognized on the street, and he is peppered with
questions. At the store where he checked for nitrates, a stooped
old woman approached him and asked, "Can you do something about the
lack of toothpaste?"
The passive way in which many Soviets deal with the drudgery
of daily life infuriates Shinkaretsky. "We shouldn't have to put
up with these things," he says, tightening his jaw in anger. "And
our society should recognize that it is we who are to blame.
Instead of being consumer-minded, many people are parasites. They
expect to be given good food, good roads and good education, but
they don't want to push for anything themselves. This is a
revolution, and no one will do your revolution for you." Bidding
a quick goodbye, Shinkaretsky is off again, this time to visit one
of the city's vegetable depots. Film at 11.