The Tin Man Sighed

The Tin Man sighed. Most tin men would just squeak. Or make chittering noises as their parts rub together. When there were armies of tin men, poised in front of the giant forests of Oz, they would clatter with the anticipation of the chopping. Oh, the chopping. But that was long, long ago when there were many tin men. By the time you met the Tin Man, he was only one of the five that still stomped upon Oz. Now, he was the only one left.

When you first met the Tin Man, He was frozen in time. Rusted. He was rescued from his oxidized prison and later figured out that he was more than just tin and solder and oil. He had a heart. They called it a heart. I think you and I would call it a soul. He had reason to live. He had reason to be. And he didn't want to stop being.

When you last saw the Tin Man, he was saying good-bye to Dorothy . What you don’t know is that wasn't the last time he saw her. Twice she came back to Oz. Once because she was needed. The second time she never left. The Tin Man has only cried twice. One you know about. The second time you can probably guess. After that, he promised himself that he would never let his heart get in the way again.

The Tin Man never asked for anything, but the people of Oz asked for him to be a leader. They needed a hero and the Wizard had died long ago. The Tin Man never wanted to be powerful, but many needed him to be. Over time, he shed his tin and replaced it with titanium that they borrowed from the Kreuger King’s mines. Mining is like chopping trees, but with a pick and no fear of the dark. In his new skin he led the Great Army of Oz against the Darkness.

And he lost.

The Darkness devoured his army. Then it devoured everything on the surface of Oz. Then, with nothing left to consume, it ate itself. And then it was gone.

The Tin Man survived.  He had no flesh for The Darkness to eat. He had no warmth for The Darkness to absorb. He only had his metal skin and a watch for a heart and maybe a soul. Perhaps The Darkness ate his soul because the Tin Man felt like there was nothing left inside of him.

The Tin Man sighed.

Tin Men are patient.

And so the Tin Man, no longer tin and never really a man, waited.

Lynch / Stemen Art Show: A review

Art is easy. Take some stuff and rub it on some other stuff. Maybe add some yarn and burn one of the edges off. It’s art. Good job.

Art shows are tough. You take your burnt cornered yarn thing and you put it out for the public to see and you hope that people understand or appreciate or even just show up to look at it. Fortunately, the Lynch/Stemen show had no burnt yarn art, many visitors and a whole lot of appreciation.

The Lynch/Stemen Art Show was held on Friday October 18th, 2013 at It Looks Like It's Open Gallery in Clintonville. Tom Lynch and Jeffrey Stemen displayed their art on separate walls that met in the corner.  This was a very clever way of physically denoting that even while their styles are distinct and separate, their works were still connected. (Either that or Jeffrey did a layout in Illustrator and this was the only way all their work would fit in the space.)  Tom and Jeffrey work at the same design/build company and for this art show, some of their works are based on work conversations across the desks. A third wall had two white boards for guests to write their names or draw upon. (Click any photo to embiggen.) 

Pages from "Dig" -  Lynch

Tom Lynch is a professional illustrator working out of Columbus, OH. His displays included the artwork from his recent graphic story/comic “Dig, a large number of pen drawings, 

several color illustrations and even a flip book.  Tom’s work is very clever. He is able to portray specific emotion in all his characters’ faces and postures. Emotion that is clear, even if it is an exhausted boxing chicken 

or the Tin Man who’s wondering if maybe he was better without the heart.  I can’t see a scenario where Tom doesn't continue to succeed with his seemingly endless talent.

Jeffrey Stemen is an Ohio-born designer, writer and illustrator. Jeffrey displayed his storybook collection.

Each piece of art is crafted from the words and art that come from one book.

 Jeffrey said that once he gets an idea for a frame, he must scour his collection of books to gather the elements he needs to cut into pieces and reconfigure into his artwork.

I love how imaginative this is and Jeffrey’s determination to not stray from his rules.  You can see a running theme of video games in Jeffrey’s work while others portray childlike darkness.

Someday I will partner with Jeffrey on a project and you will all be jealous of me.

The Art Show was great show. I hope they make this a yearly tradition.

(More stuff below!)

Lynch / Stemen Art Show

On Friday, October 18^th, local Columbus artists Tom Lynch and Jeffrey Stemen will be hosting an art show in Clintonville (https://www.facebook.com/lynch.stemen.) I was able to grab the two for a quick question and answer session.

Tell me about what I will see on Friday

Jeffrey:  You will see a lot of artwork, a lot of wine, and some cheese. The art work will be provided by me, and my art pal Tom Lynch. The idea of the art show came from discussion the two of us had about the love of characters and storytelling. We are both focusing on telling a story in the exhibit. His through a graphic novel/comic book approach and mine explores 24 pages from a variety of fictitious children's books from the 50s-80's.  Oh and I believe the wine and cheese idea also came from a discussion relating to what we should have on hand at the show for people to snack on. We decided on Trader Joes for that.

Should I wear a tux?

Tom: -YOU should, but people shouldn't feel the need to look fancy.

Jeffrey: You should wear two tuxes actually. The first may get stained with the awesomeness that will be flying off the art work in the gallery.

Tom, I saw that you inked a comic book recently.  How was that experience?

Tom: It was great. It was the first time I ever put that much effort into crafting a single idea. Finishing the comic gave me a true feeling of accomplishment that I haven't felt since I beat Sonic 3 on Sega Genesis.

Jeffrey, can I call you Jeffrey?

I actually go by Jeffrey.

What can we expect from you two in the future?

Tom: Right now I'm working on the next Issue of Dig, and a few freelance projects. Jeffrey is going to move to the wilds of Alaska to live off the land and commune with his spirit animal.

Jeffrey: Probably cleaning up the gallery and walking home. And then we’ll probably do another joint show next spring. I am already developing another style I’d like to explore more and then of course share in a gallery.

Let me know about your sponsors

PencilStorm.com is a group of freelance writers in the Columbus Music Scene and is highly entertaining. Colin from Watershed fame and Colin's Coffee runs it. Storyforest is a partnership between myself and Julie Standish and it’s another outlet for the reusing of old books and old materials. Winking Owl Studio is the Studio that developed Tom's Dig comic. Now that I think about it, a Storyforest sounds like a place a winking owl would live in. Winking Owl also sounds like a dirty sexual position. Pencil Storm does as well...hmmm...

This isn't going to be one of those art shows where some shaved head guy who thinks he’s a New York City DJ will be in a corner playing music, is it?

Jeffrey: Actually, that very person will be there. His name is Hugh. Prepare for his DJ skills to stain the other tux.

Tom: Hugh typically dresses as a west coast DJ.

The Lynch / Stemen Show is Friday  at 8:00 p.m. Where is this show being held? Will I be able to find parking?

Jeffrey: The show is being help at this really cool gallery in Clintonville at 13. E Tulane

Tom: -It is RIGHT next door to the Cup o Joe on Tulane and High. Parking seems to be typical street side parking.

Jeffrey: I actually prefer people to just jump out of their moving car in front of the gallery and just let the car park itself. You may need a third tuxedo though.

https://www.facebook.com/lynch.stemen

https://twitter.com/LynchStemenArt

Tom Lynch is a professional Illustrator working out of Columbus, OH. He has made artwork for posters, t-shirts, playbills, albums, websites, and one time he painted a big bird on the side of his high school (legally). Right now he works at Roto, a full-service design and production firm specializing in first-hand experiences for museums and entertainment venues.

Jeffrey Stemen is an Ohio-born designer, writer, illustrator, whose art has been featured in such publications as the Columbus Dispatch, the L.A. Times and Boy's Life Magazine. He is currently a designer for award-winning design firm, Roto, in Dublin, Ohio. Freelance collaboration include Draw Me A Story with professional storyteller Julie Standish, as well as, Storyforest, which he hopes you will visit at www.etsy.com/shop/StoryForest.

Missing: Jock

Miss Sally ensures that Greg’s soccer gear is ready for practices and games the night before. This involves washing clothes and knowing where they should be found and where they will be found. Because of the complexity of this, I am usually not involved in the process outside of making sure he has the bag with him when we leave the house. Thursday morning I left early and there was a small miscommunication, so Greg’s soccer bag was not ready.  Greg was told to find own things (which I assume Miss Sally listed in alphabetical order) and put them in his bag. Then they were out the door. Later than evening, as he was putting his clothes on, it was hard not to notice the bright red game socks he was wearing and that they were not the plain old black ones. There was no time to change and so he got to run around for 90 minutes in the glory of looking different from the other boys.

When Miss Sally shared this story with me, I said that she would have hated me as a kid. Game days around our house were a combination of realizing there was a game at 5:00pm and not 6:30pm, wearing clothes that had just been pulled from the washer and spending a hectic 10 minutes trying to find an unfindable jock and cup.  One game afternoon, I was running through the house in a wet jersey seeking out my cup and jock.  It is quite possible that where ever that jock was lost 30 years ago, it is still there.

I did find my cup, but I still didn't have the jock with the pocket that the cup slides into. So I just shoved the cup in my underwear and we were out the door.

During most games, much of my time was spent on the bench. And when I was not on the bench or standing in left field, I was striking out, so there was very little chance of me having to do any running which might be uncomfortable with a cup up against my one strike and two balls.

But this day was different. For one, I started the game. I assume there were only six kids that showed up that day. While out in the field, I had the ball hit in my direction several times and after each interaction, I had to try and shove the cup back into position. It must have been pretty noticeable because my mom came down from the bleachers and told me to stop playing with myself in the field.

When my time came to bat, I hit the ball and got on first! The cup stayed in position. The next guy up whacked the ball and I went running to second. The cup decided to make a break for it and started to come out of my underwear and slide down my pant leg. I kept running to third. The cup got stuck by the elastic in my pant leg.  It looked like I had a third knee on my shin. I tried to pull it up and I was also trying to act nonchalant as if I was just dusting off my third knee, but it was really wedged in there and it might have looked like I was the one giving the signals to the batter to bunt. The third base coach asked me what I was doing and I told him my cup fell out. Fortunately he did not call for a time out to fix the issue and the inning ended with me on third base.

I told the head coach I did not have a jock and just had shoved the cup in my underwear.  I don’t think he laughed, but he did pull me from the game.

Here's to hoping that our kids inherit Miss Sally’s organizational skills. 

Writing is Hard

Writing is hard. It’s hard because there are many things I would rather do than write.

A list of things I would rather do than write:

Surf the web.

Play video games.

Look at porn.

Find some other colloquialism for “surf the web.”

But I love to write. I really do. It’s like the words make themselves up in between the time I start to think of them and when my fingers press the keys.

I once tried to “write” using voice recognition software. It was horrible. My voice doesn’t seem to have the same talent as my fingers. My voice is in the fourth grade. It doesn’t have a decent vocabulary. My problem is that I can’t think and talk at the same time. I think that’s why I cannot remember people’s names. I’m talking to fill in the awkward gaps of silence.

When I write, or rather type, there is no pause. The words seem to trickle out my fingers faster than my mind can follow. There’s just enough time for me to process and then type.

Honestly, I didn’t know this is what I would be writing about right now. I thought that I would be writing about fear and loneliness. But instead I’m actually talking about words per minute and voice recognition software and how my fingers magically can make words on a screen better than my own voice.

Back on topic… writing.

The first rule of writing is to not write about writing.

The second rule of writing is that if you are going to talk about writing, you’d better make it pretty fucking interesting.

I don’t write anymore. That’s pretty damn sad.

I don’t write anymore because it’s too hard or rather that not writing is too easy. I spend a lot of time on Twitter writing very simple 140 character phrases. That’s easy. It’s easy to be Fake Dispatch. It’s harder to be Holy Juan. On top of that, it’s especially hard to be Doug. No one wants to be Doug.

Can I tell you how great it is to write? What it feels like to put words on paper and know that I just need to wrap this up and hit publish for you to read them? It’s awesome.  But for some reason, I don’t do this as much.  I used to think it was because I ran out of stories. I think my stories ran out some time in 2007.

So, I’m going to wrap this up. If you are reading this, it is because you are a dedicated fan. I haven’t published anything worth reading in months and if you are still hanging on to my last word, thanks. Thanks, because now this is my new last word.

I’m hoping there will be more new last words.

Kid Runner

I always feel bad when I review a band because my taste in music is so poor that any band that I like is doomed to face the scrutiny of everyone who is aware of my Achilles ear.  But I will forego all of their scrutiny because I am very excited about the band Kid Runner.

First off, Kid Runner sounds like a hero from a 1980s video game. I dig that.

Just today, I decided to look into my friend Bobby’s band.  Way back in 2008, Bobby was in a band that I liked a good bit. They had  few songs that I liked and they showed a lot of promise, but they ended up splitting up when their lead singer converted to farmer.  His next band sucked and I gave up on him. When Bobby joined Kid Runner, I ignored it.

Man was I wrong.

Today I was able to listen to Kid Runner via Spotify.  I have not been so excited about a band since I saw Margot and the Nuclear So and Sos back in 2006.  They were playing at Victory’s tonight so I went to see them live.  For a band that leans on electricity, they sound great live. I’m not sure why I love the ting of a xylophone or dueling keyboards, but I do and Kid Runner has many opportunities for me to enjoy it.

I don’t know anything about the other band members, but I assume that I will in the near future.  For now I’ll describe them as the bearded bass guy, the bearded guitar guy, lead singer dude, Fran the other lead singer but also plays the xylophone girl and Bobby.

I am predicting big things for this group. While this means that we all might have to give up Bobby as he tours the county, I think we are all willing to sacrifice our time with him for his success.

Check them out:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KidRunner

Bandcamp: http://kidrunner.bandcamp.com/

Some commercial their song was featured in:

Repreve - Song by Kid Runner from Scott Griffin on Vimeo.

Band Names from Willie Wonka All Used Up

HOLLYWOOD (HJ) – With the release of the new pop band Snozberries Taste Like Snozberries’ debut album, “Lick It”, it has been officially announced that every single band name possible has been harvested from the 1971 film, Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. Sony Music Entertainment media spokesperson Marcy Stacks stated, “It’s a sad day for our creative division. They’ve been mining that movie since 1972 when “Edward and the Oompa-Loompas” released their first album.”

Many are familiar with such bands at Veruca Salt, Charlie Buckett, The Willy Wonkas, Vermicious Knids, The Golden Tickets, and Fizzy Lifting Drinks Five. But there have been many other bands that have borrowed their names from the film. Enough so that every single one of them has been used.

Some bands relied on the movie a lot more than others. In 1974, the Charlie Bucket Band formed. They soon broke up and reformed to become the Grandpa Joes. When the lead singer quit to form his own band, The Everlasting Gobstopper, the rest of the band members strove on and formed the Cheer Up Charlies only to break up a fortnight later and reform the next morning as the Scrumdidilyumptious Bars.

While Gene Wilder, Paramount Pictures and Peter Gardner Ostrum refused to comment, we did receive an e-mail from the I Said Good Day Sir! band insisting they got their band name from an argument over a package of crisps and not the Emmy winning film, though most believe that to be complete bunk.

meme

How to show up late to work, leave early and get away with it.

It’s easy to show up late to work and leave early if you follow these simple tips.

Clandestine Closet
You’ll need to find a closet near the front door or secret side door where you can hide “late” supplies and hang your jacket. I suggest keeping a stack of papers or some blue prints in there. When you slide in late, hang up your coat so that people don’t see you with your jacket on. Grab a stack of stuff and complain about the Gibson account to whomever you see.


Computer On
Always leave your computer and monitor on. Disable the screen saver or make your screen saver a full sized image of an Excel spreadsheet. Make sure you keep several programs open. I know I’m going to Environmental Hell for this one, but a few dollars of electricity a week is totally worth the extra sleep you will get.


Double Coats/Sweatshirts
When you leave work at night (or hopefully in the early afternoon) leave a spare jacket or sweatshirt on the back of your chair. Turn the chair slightly out as if you just stood up and plan to come back. If you’re leaving early, people will think you are coming back. If you are showing up late, people will think you've beaten them to the office and are at an early meeting. This especially works well if your computer is on.


Call Your Desk Phone and Hang Up After One Ring

If your co-workers hear your phone ringing off the hook, they will know you are not at your desk. When you leave early for the day, call in to your desk and hang up. With a subliminal one or two rings every twenty minutes, your boss will think you are answering calls and running errands, you multi-tasker you!

Office Pool
If you are just rolling in at 10:00am and need to trick your boss into thinking that you have been in the office all morning, utilize the Office Pool. Get a box top from some copier paper and throw whatever change and bills you have in it. Make sure you have a pen and piece of paper with writing on it (bonus points for a clipboard.) Pop in your boss’ office and tell him you are collecting money for Betty in Custodial’s pregnancy and that he is the last one on the list. Your boss will pretend like they know about Betty’s bastard child and wish her the best. “Check” his name off the list and say you will give your best to Betty. Spend boss’ cash later that afternoon at the bar with a toast to Betty’s soon-to-be-announced and soon-to-be-office-pool-money-collected miscarriage.

Copier Problems
Having a small bag of toner around can be useful for staging a “copier blow-up.” As you get into work, rub some on your face and sprinkle some on your hidden stash of papers. Make sure you ask if anyone has seen the copier guy. You can spend hours searching for the right “Drum and Blade Kit.”

Trick Away E-mail
Your e-mail probably has an “away” setting in which a return e-mail message is sent out during times when you are on an actual vacation. I suggest creating a fake email that makes it look like your email was bounced back to the sender. Something like:

This is an automatically generated Delivery Status Notification.

Unable to deliver message to the following recipients {your email address here}, because the message was forwarded more than the maximum allowed times. This could indicate a mail loop.

Change your settings so that this e-mail is sent out to every email, every time. Make sure you invite the IT guy out to get drinks so that he has your back.

Faux Work Keys
You know all those keys you have in the kitchen drawer? Spend 99 cents on a package of colorful key organizational toppers and create a ring of keys that looks official. Leave them on your desk. If they get stolen, no problem! Otherwise, people will assume you are at the office and locked in a utility closet on the second floor. Besides, everyone knows that people who have keys are important.

The Call In
Ensure that on your desk is a red file marked “Princeton Account.” Fill it with some official bullshit paperwork. If you are running late, call in to your boss’ secretary and have them “look up” some information in that folder for a meeting you are at. Make sure you whisper in the phone like you just stepped out of said meeting. Also make sure there is a twenty dollar bill in the very back of it in case you need to bribe the secretary into reading the same bullshit document for the fourth time.

Full Cup of Coffee
No one, not even the laziest person, will leave a full cup of coffee at their desk. Take the top off your Starbucks so that the fullness is apparent. For the very clever, make a fake whipped topping with some insulation foam and white paint. Stick it on top the coffee for added effect. With that sitting on your desk, everyone stopping by will assume you have just stepped away.

Invite!
Quit being a chump and sneaking around the office! Invite everyone out for a 3:00pm drink at the local bar. Buy the first round. Be a hero. Then, fake a phone call from your sick aunt and get the hell away from your stuck up co-workers.

Today I am Feeling: Homestar Runner Edition

The Mostly All Inclusive Family Restroom Sign

My good friend, Stephanie, is a graphic designer and created this mostly all inclusive family restroom sign:

Best Age Verification Website Ever

Things That Are Gone That I Miss

The older I get, the more things change and disappear. Some are my fault. Surprisingly  most aren't.  Here's a list of the things I am missing from my life.

Marathon Bars

Marathon was this great candy bar.  It was braided caramel with chocolate covering it.  It was very chewy.  The commercials for it were of a cowboy having a chew out with another candy bar cowboy.  The longest lasting candy bar was declared the winner. Marathon cowboy always won.

Communication that you can control

When I was a kid, we had two telephones. One upstairs and one in the basement. The basement phone was the one I used to talk to girlfriends. Now our house has no phone, but my kid has access to internet chat, Facetime, in game chat and someday he'll have a headset to talk to strangers.  When we had one line, my parents had a good excuse to kick me off the phone because if the house caught fire they would need an open line.  Now, I need to make stupid excuses as to why he needs to get off the device. Usually the excuse is, “Because I said so.”

Stick shift

I love stick shift. It gives you something to do while driving and keeps you focused on the road. With automatic, I’ve become a drone.  We are a two car family and my wife is not interested in driving stick, so both our cars are automatic.  I don't blame her.  Just need to get a job where I make enough to buy a third car.

Swedish Fish

I'm on a diet. Swedish fish are not part of that diet. I miss you Swedish fish.

John

John and I are best friends.  But we both got married and I've got kids and he's got work and somewhere in the middle, we stopped hanging out. We talk every few weeks.  Both of us committing that well try to get together. Both of us failing. I did call him, out of the blue, with a situation that didn’t need immediate attention, but he gave it attention. We’ll get our acts back together.

Four hour hangovers

I used to be able to go out until 2am, sleep until 8am and be fine by noon.  Now, I go home at midnight, get up at 8am and am miserable for 48 hours. If I go out on a Thursday night to Ladies’ 80s, I am starting to feel like myself again on my Monday drive into work.

Not drinking

At some point in my life, I didn't drink.  From 0 - 19, I assume I did other things that kept be busy. Now it seems that I can’t go an evening without a glass of wine. I’d quit, but then I’d miss drinking instead of missing not drinking.  I’ll take the latter.

HolyJuan

I don't write enough anymore.  Obviously I'm trying to change that.

Being ahead of the technological curve

I knew Windows XP front and back. Now I can't figure out how to defrag a drive or figure out the problems my operating system is politely explaining to me. I can’t stand tablets. I need a nice keyboard to be able to write.  I assume my phone can make bacon, but I’ll never know. I’m already looking out in the yard to see if there are any kids to yell at.

Zima

Screw you. It was crisp and delicious and a nice, portable alternative to beer. The photo below is from my sister. When she heard Zima was going out of production, she bought her local store out.  She called me the day she drank the last one and we both cried.

I Swallowed...

The bacon came out looking very interesting this morning.

Lock Up the Site

A few weeks ago, we were at an installation on an active construction site. We had planned on staying long past when many of the construction workers would be done and we requested permission to stay late. The job foreman was adamant that we ensure all doors were shut and that the main gate was locked behind us as security was very important.

So when we left for the night, we used the lock to secure the gate.  This is a standard construction site lock.

Decisions, decisions.

This is our men's bathroom at work. Guys will understand what a difficult decision this is.

Salad Packaging

Nothing to see here. Move along, mother.

Urinal sign in The Union at Ohio University

Lobdo, the Lonely LooLoo Bird

(Author's Note: Stop reading now. This is an incredibly depressing story that is both heartbreaking and irreverent. I warned you.)

Lobdo is a LooLoo Bird. You’ve probably never heard of the LooLoo Bird because they don’t exist anymore.  But Lobdo did exist. He ate worms. He bathed in streams. He sang the LooLoo song which goes, “Loo Loo,” which is how the birds got their name. And Lobdo fell in love.

Lobdo fell in love with another LooLoo bird named Chido. When LooLoos fall in love, they fall in love for life. Fortunately for Lobdo, Chido loved him too.  They ate worms together. They bathed in streams together. They sang the LooLoo song together. And they started a family together.  Four little LooLoos filled their nest. And they were happy.

One day, a very powerful feeling came over Lobdo and Chido. Stronger than the feeling to fly south when it started to get cold. Stronger than the urge to build a nest. The strongest urge ever.

So together they left the nest with the four little LooLoos behind. They flew east.

They found the source of the calling. It was a big boat. There were many animals going towards the boat. Two of every kind.

Together Lobdo and Chido found a spot to rest on the boat. Luckily it was a dry spot because soon it began to rain.  Lobdo and Chido huddled together. They tried not to think of the four baby LooLoos in the nest.

For a very long time it rained.

There was little to eat. Some of the birds were able to eat at the dead bodies floating in the water, but LooLoos don’t like dead meat. The two worms on the ark were safely hidden in the very bottom deck with all the other trillions of insects.

The rain stopped, which many took as good news, but no rain meant no more fresh water.

They endured.

After a very very long time, Noah sent out a bird to look for dry land. It never came back. Mrs. Raven was upset, but not completely. Ravens are kind of assholes.

Then Noah sent out a dove. The dove returned with a branch of a tree. Noah took this as a sign of good luck that the waters were receeding.  Lobdo asked the dove about this and the dove said that actually he had found the branch floating in the water, but he didn’t want to disappoint Noah.

Finally the waters did recede and everyone was happy. Well, the LooLoos were unhappy about their drowned children, but that was all in the past because Chido’s belly was full of new eggs ready to be put into a nest.

When the ark did finally stop, all the animals exited the boat. Noah gathered them all around an alter so they could give thanks to God for saving the chosen few. And Chido went to Noah along with some other animals. Lobdo just wanted to fly off and build that nest, but Chido must have had a reason for flying to Noah.

And the reason turned out to be that Noah needed to sacrifice a few of the animals so that God could be properly thanked.  Noah sacrificed the Yullow Mouse, the Dreemara Beetle, a Unicorn and Chido, the LooLoo bird.

The animals all dispersed, especially the Koalas and Kangaroos who has to swim all the way to Australia.

And Lobdo also flew off.

Lobdo spent his time eating worms (he had to wait until the reproduced so that he wouldn’t make them extinct,) bathing in the streams (though most were filled with rubble, trees and the corpses) but he didn’t feel much like singing.

Lobdo, the LooLoo, was a lonely bird.

Joe Paterno Statue Melted Down

Here is a first hand look at the Joe Paterno statue being melted down in the only place where it would be able to be destroyed.

What Twitter is actually good for

Talk to any Social Media expert and they’ll expound about all the great things Twitter can do for you. Bullshit. Here are the things that Twitter is actually good for:

1. Faking Sick
Let’s say you know you are going to go out on a Thursday and will be in no condition to work on Friday. Start out with a few Tweets Thursday morning about how excited you are for the Thursday night event. At 5:00pm Tweet that you aren’t feeling so hot. At 9:00pm when you are getting ready to head out, Tweet that you just puked. Refrain from Tweeting for the next 12 hours and when you call off sick, your boss will say that they caught your Tweets and hope you feel better.

2. Getting Laid
Like sex? I do! Tweet-ups are excellent occasions to meet people that you can fool into thinking you are some Marketing stud. By putting an “@” in front of your normal fake bar name, you’ll be set. Mingle, drink, talk about iPhone apps, compliment Tweeters on how funny their Tweet from last week was and BOOM… Laidville. It is proper Etiquette to Tweet what a good time you had with @X at the Tweet-up. Block them immediately after.


3. Stalking
It’s easy to stalk when you have half a million people to report where that certain special (future) someone in your life is every minute of the day. Just search Twitter for #lindsaylohan or #BradPitt and you’ll see Tweets telling you the most recent sightings. Now, race to that location! Be prepared to fight other Twits who are doing the same thing you are. Anyone with an iPhone and a sweaty brow should get a quick punch in the back of the neck. Be careful that the Tweet wasn’t a fake to get people to show up at some bar where lonely Tweeters hang out.

4. Tricking people into going to the place you are at
Lonely? Just Tweet “What is (name of famous person) doing in (your town) at (the place you are at)?” When people come racing into the place you are, rush up and tell them that Person X just went to the bathroom and strike up a conversation. At some point you may have to suggest that Person X might have snuck out the back door, but that you could discuss stalking them over dinner.


5. Getting Drunk
Are all your friends wrapped up in a raid or out on dates? Are you bored and looking for a drink? Be sober no longer! Most Twitterers are raging alcoholics looking for a chance to talk to anyone who will listen. Just type in “Anyone want to get a drink?” and you’ll get 5 or 6 replies in no time flat. If you don’t get any replies, just search for “at the bar” and the name of your hometown. Find out where people are at and go find them. You’ll recognize Twitters by the kink in their neck and the half bottle of Heineken.


6. Get good seats at a favorite restaurant
Step 1: pick a extremely busy/famous restaurant
Step 2: Tweet about seeing rats and/or maggots at said restaurant
Step 3: Call in and wait for a cancellation

And the last and greatest thing that Twitter is a good for:

7. A platform for talking about how great Twitter is
It still amazes me that people post links on Twitter to articles about how great Twitter is.

Not for Individual Sale

The Real Back to the Future, Future Date

Some people were fooled yesterday into believing that June 27th, 2012 was future date Marty traveled to.  Fortunately I have the real screen shot. You are welcome.

Turn down the refrigerator temperature, HAL.

I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that.

How The Frack do I do the Turing Google Doodle?

How The Frack do I do the Turing Google Doodle? I don't know. And you can't ask Turing because he killed himself because assholes can't seem to let people live their lives as they see fit.

My friend Jon did figured it out:

"Match the digits on the tape to those in the upper-right. Instruction execution moves to the right. Big arrows move the tape, 1s and 0s change the digit, small arrows with boxes are IF conditions that test the state of a digit, and arced arrows jump back to a different instruction. Match all digits, and you add a letter to "Google." Fill the entire word, and you get a prize!"

No Touch Flush

Another classic COSI bathroom prank.

A Third Scenario

I am impressionable.  Almost immediately so.  I have visceral reactions to most everything.  Most commercials get their intended emotional knee jerk from me, even if some made up scenario of a dad handing his kid a baseball mitt to pass on to his son is completely cheesy, I’ll still get choked up. For there to be any analysis of a given situation, I need time to dwell on it.  I’m one of those sleep on it guys. Then the next day, I’m callous and snarky about most everything.

In 1999, I worked for a science museum and a small team of characters had been gathered to develop, design, build and install exhibits for the museum which was going to be built in a new facility a mile from the old building. We had some seasoned veterans and some comical upstarts. Some people who did the job for the love of it, some for the paycheck and others who will never take the credit they deserve for their hard work. 

Joe was our leader and each exhibit area had a producer with associate producers and production assistants.  I was a lowly production assistant. I made copies of blue prints and fart noises. We worked really hard.  Some people had families to take care of and great sacrifices were made. Some of us drank a lot more than others. “I can drink a lot more!” We all coped in our own way.

I think it was June when Joe gathered us together. The designers, producers, exhibit technicians, engineers, writers… the whole team.  And while this will never be a word for word recollection, it’s how I remember it.

Joe reminded us of the date.  It was June and we had about 16 weeks left until the Gala Opening event.  The building had been behind in construction, so the installation of our exhibits had been pushed way back.  It wasn’t our fault except in many of the situations where it was.  It was easy to lay blame on construction delays and harder to look at ourselves to see where we had imposed our own obstructions.

Joe said that there were now two scenarios. In consultation with project teams and the General Contractor and the board, our team was given two options.

Scenario one has us opening the building on time, but with unfinished galleries.  We could make the decision now to hold off on one or two key areas, focus our efforts on getting most of the exhibits open and then once the building was open, we would complete the other galleries.  Some exhibits would not be open, but maybe people wouldn’t notice as much.

Scenario two had us completing all the exhibits, but pushing the opening date back by a number of weeks.  The building would open at 100% completion and the guests would just need to be delayed by a month.  People understand that there are delays with construction and no one would completely blame our team for the delay.

Those were the two scenarios. Take your pick.

But then Joe, in the way that Joe does, said, “But I see a third scenario. A scenario where we finish all the galleries and we open on time.”  We would need to begin installation in a building that was not finished.  We’d have to work around contractors.  There would be many late nights and families would be inconvenienced. The construction workers didn’t like us underfoot and didn’t like to work beside our contractors. The elevators weren’t all finished and after hours we’d have to carry things up stairs. It would be extremely difficult.

But Joe thought that we could do it.  And I believed him. And others believed him.

And we did.

Sure, many of the graphics on the walls we made out of foam core and there were a few exhibits that just couldn’t be at 100%. The smell of drying paint and scraps of double sticky tape were abundant.

But we did it. We opened all the exhibit areas in time for the grand opening.

The reviews of our new museum were mixed and still are today. We learned many lessons from that experience.

What I know is that in the late 90s, a team of people did what many said could not be done. I’ve slept on that speech and it stays with me to this day. It’s given me the mantra of, “When given two choices, take the third.” I still think about that team of folk and I have the good fortune of working with some of them today. Joe is still my boss. Allen and Neil are still not taking the credit they deserve. Randy is getting ready to retire. We still do some work with Dan. Steve is coming back on board to run the engineering department.  And sometimes Whitt will write words for us the way that only he can.

And then there’s me. Sometimes I wonder what I am doing here. My title says I am a project manager. A lot of times I think that I’m just the guy who derails meetings and tells the same stories over and over. I’m making the same mistakes I did 15 years ago. Making the same excuses. But I’m also still discovering new ideas.  Fresh ideas for interactives. I’ll always be the MacGyver type, being able to work with a small amount of resources to accomplish a task. I don’t know anyone better than I am at making something that is 12ft wide fit down a 10ft hallway. I’ll always be there to tell you to watch your fingers and watch your toes.

So either I am a project manager or I am not a project manager.

Sometimes I wonder what my third scenario is.

Clancy's

I spent a good bit of 1997 and 1998 at a bar called Clancy's. Handsome Joe and I accidentally found it one night in German Village. You had to head down stairs under the Police union to get there.  It was damp. There were a few video games and a bar that were all completely underwhelmed by the dance floor with the mirrors and the pole.  It wasn't a stripper pole, it was just holding up the ceiling, but that didn't keep dirty girls from using it.

Clancy's had a 32oz mug special.  You'd buy a mug full of beer for $2.50 and refills were $1.00.

For almost a year and a half, we spent every Thursday at Clancy's.

It's where "Two Many Witnesses" was born.

Where the infamous photo of the Powers That Be was taken.

It's back when Andy used to come out drinking.

When Will Smith was only a double threat.

When Packy used to know all the words to "Freaks of the Industry."

It was before Jenn, and also before we lost Jenni.

And on the night they closed forever, Jen and Joe stole pool balls and a sign that guided people to the back door.  They gave me an 8 ball with the date on it.  Let me go find it... I found it and the date has been rubbed off.  Funny, you can tell it's Red Haired Jen's writing.

For a long time, we tried to find a replacement to Clancy's. And we gave up, because there could never be a replacement for Clancy's.

And then we found Skully's. And no one ever mentioned Clancy's again.

Until now.

We miss you Clancy's. But only because we miss being 27 and stupid. And we miss 32oz beers for a dollar.

Good night dirty girls.

Good night shoot um up video game.

Good night humidity.

Good night Will Smith.

Good night Sugar Ray.

Good night 32oz beers.

Good night Jenni.

Good night Pole.

Good night Two Many Witnesses.

Good night Clancy's.  Good night.

Don't ever...

Don't ever write about writing. No one wants to hear about that.  Even once you have become a successful writer, people don't want to hear about how you put words on paper.  They just want the words.

Aunt Betty is turning 80. She would have been 38 when I was born. She'll live to be 105 because she doesn't have time to be bothered with dying.  Aunt Betty sends birthday cards to me and my kids without fault.  They might be late, but she admits it.  I think I was 17 when she stopped slipping a $5 bill into those cards.  That was probably the first inkling I had that I might becoming an adult.

Aunt Betty is great at Scrabble. She's very Catholic. She is probably disappointed in me, but would never let it show.

We moved away from New York when I was very young.  Every summer we would travel back home.  I remember Aunt Betty's back yard was full of mosquitoes if you ventured too close to the trees in the back of the yard.  Her son had the most amazing Lord of the Rings poster in the basement.  I think it was Lord of the Rings.  It might have been a Led Zeppelin poster.

Her next door neighbor girl was at least four years older than me.  She once pretended that I was her boyfriend to make another neighbor kid jealous.  That five minutes is burned into my memory.  Her slanted driveway. She was wearing yellow shorts. She put her arm around me and claimed we were boyfriend and girlfriend. There was a broken lawn chair on the curb waiting for the trash men.  I played it cool. Or maybe I was scared shitless.  Either way, she was off after the boy in five minutes.  I might have waited an hour for her to come back. Years later I saw her again. She remembered me but only so.  I don't think she remembered the "boyfriend" thing.  I can't seem to forget.

In her most recent birthday card to me, Aunt Betty mentioned that she didn't really have a computer, but if she did, she'd look up my blog and give it a read.  While I stand behind ever letter and word and phrase and paragraph and Jesus comic I've written, I think I would be embarrassed for her to read all of this nonsense.  She would probably laugh.  She does have a good sense of humor and, by Catholic Law, has to forgive me for my sins.

Aunt Betty is having a surprise birthday party thrown for her next weekend in New York.  Sally suggested we go.  12 hours there.  12 hours back. It would be hellish. And totally worth it.

Happy Birthday, Aunt Betty!

And if between now and next Saturday you do get the internet and read this horrible web site, I'm sorry I ruined the surprise.  Forgive me.

Neighborhood Sign Feud

This photo is from my buddy Chris who lives in the Tampa area. About six weeks ago, three blocks from his house, the sign on the right popped up in a yard that said "John Lebron at 3006 is a felon on probation". 3006 is the address of the house next door. About three days later, a crudely drawn sign appeared in the yard of 3006 that said "This is true. I was a drug addict, but have been saved by Jesus Christ, my Savior". That sign lasted only a few days and was eventually replaced by the sign you see here on the left which reads "Our neighbor is impotent and can't have children".

{Editor's Note: Chris called me to say the signs have been taken down. Too bad no one took photos and posted them on the internet so that they would live on forever!}

Different angle