So, I finally saw this movie I’ve been meaning to see for a while, “Art & Copy”. It’s a sad, disgusting (read: excellent) documentary about the collection of whores and egomaniacs working in the advertising business, and, by extension, about everything that is wrong with our society.

“By the way, if anyone here is in marketing or advertising…kill yourselves…” —Bill Hicks

It was difficult to watch - painful, even; for a variety of reasons. Because my father’s best friend (Jim Durfee) is in the film; because my father, my mother-in-law, and college friend all work(ed) in that horrible business. Because I knew from an early age that my father’s profession had absolutely no nobility — getting paid large sums of money to figure out how to make people buy shit they don’t need. It’s disgusting.

And yet, this film glorifies these people — well, actually, the interviewees do a great job glorifying themselves, for ninety minutes, about all the Good Work they do — and the sick, sad infrastructure that is in place to support this behemoth. There are snippets of factoids presented throughout the flick, about how much money is spent on advertising annually in this country (billions and billions), and how many communications satellite launches annually are for commercial communications (most), but the overriding message — delivered by some of the biggest names/egos in the business — is even worse than Gordon Gekko’s “Greed is Good”, it’s “I can Manufacture Greed for you, for a Price (and an Expense Account)”.

$750K for thirty seconds to try and sell your shit on “American Idol” is all you need to know about what is wrong with this picture. Waste-wise, this kind of money on selling shoes and deodorant is second only to the kind of money we spend on weapons of mass destruction.

“What if we used all this money we spend on guns that shoot things that can fly down a chimney, on guns that can shoot food into the mouths of starving people in Africa?” — Bill Hicks (again)

Every American should see this film, but sadly I think the real takeaway will be lost on most. To me, “inspiring advertising”, which apparently is the kind all these assholes were congratulating themselves for “creating” (one even used the term “midwife”, swear to god) throughout the flick, is the most disgusting of all.

I finished my last job on Friday, and for some reason I thought it would be a good idea to start the new one the following Monday. Guess that means I start my new job tomorrow, and to say I’m excited would be an understatement.

Today was a study in change, an awakening of a dormant mind. I realized I had been on autopilot for months, if not years, and was unhappy about it. Sure, I chose to do something about it a couple months ago, but today I realized just how unhappy I was, how frustrated I was with my old bosses, how disillusioned I had become with my current work. Part of that stems from the way my bosses chose to handle my departure: with a sad display of childish ranting, and then, the silent treatment. I am still wondering how a couple of guys who built a company over 27 years can still behave like children, but no matter. They do not matter any more. Not to me, and not to my former co-workers, as a new CEO has been named (I have high hopes for the future of AEC, but alas I will not bear witness from the inside). Time to move on.

Today I went for a bike ride, the first of the season for me, I’m afraid. It was a nice easy spin along the foothills of the Rockies, and also took me past the Boulder Municipal Airport, which was buzzing with activity. This brought home the realization that I have not been enjoying my favorite activities, like cycling, flying, being in the mountains — hell, even just looking at the mountains. Then I came home and Brenda & I took Hooper out for a ride and then a bite to eat at our favorite pizza joint in Boulder. The couple next to us were in town from Madison, WI, househunting. The guy just got a job with a cycling advocacy outfit in Boulder and he was excited about moving to such a cycling-centric mountain city. I was excited for him too. It reminded my of my mood four years ago, and all these things started me wondering about what lies ahead:

My commute goes from a five minute bike ride to a 45-hour-plus drive or bus ride. My workday will lengthen, and my ability to come home for a lunchtime dog walk or dr appointment or whatever just went out the window. I know, I KNOW, that this commute cannot possibly be anywhere near as bad as my commute from Metropark to Penn Station in NYC, but it will still be an adjustment. One thought Brenda & I have is that ultimately we will move to Denver, which will make the commute shorter, place Brenda in much closer proximity to more work in the Denver area, and open up the possibility of us finally getting an actual house with an actual yard. So long term, that’s the carrot on the stick for me as I once again board the commuter “express” train to hell.

Commute aside, today made me realize how much we would be leaving if we left Boulder. The mountains, the mountains are just fucking spectacular, ok? It’s just not the same looking at them from Denver, when you can even see them from there. In Boulder, they are right there, you feel like you can kiss them from anywhere in town. The bike paths, the breweries, our friends, they are here. And yet, moving to Denver would enable us to buy a proper house and walk to Rockies games.

In the short term, Brenda has the Colorado Shakespeare Festival to attend to, and that is right here in Boulder. So we will mull this big decision over the summer and I will try to adjust to working at a national lab after being a consultant for fifteen years. Should be an interesting few months.

Almost as if to commemorate my new direction, I discovered Wolfram Alpha today, which is a mind expanding little playground that I have been having fun with this evening. Check it out. Talk to ya soon.

I read a recent post on Lifehacker this morning about resume writing (no, I’m not looking for a job, I just read Lifehacker religiously), and readers were encouraged to post their own tips and peeves in the comments. I thought I’d share my thoughts here. (Can you smell the rant coming from there?)

First of all, when did listing your undergraduate GPA on the resume become fashionable? I have discovered, much to my chagrin, that there is a huge emphasis on grade point average in the veterinary school application process, but these people are reviewing applicants for the job of student, essentially. Further, it costs the grad school money to wash people out, so I can see how past performance on test taking is going to be a primary yardstick for a vet school applicant. But when I read a resume from someone looking for a job as a lighting designer and they point out to me that they got a 3.7384 GPA getting their friggin’ undergraduate degree, it makes that person look like a brown nosing, whiny little pest, and I don’t need that shit. I realize that people fresh out of school need to dig deep for stuff to put on a resume, but babe, look elsewhere.

My bigger issue is with people who list worldwide travel destinations under the “Other Skills/Interests” sections that these resumes always seem to have. Listing other skills and interests isn’t inherently bad; doing so can make you seem well-rounded, provide a peek at the rest-of-you and not just the worker bee, and can provide conversation starters for the interviewer. But I’m thinking more like “cycling, photography, playing guitar, travel”. Travel, not where you traveled. Travel is mind expanding, educational, humbling. You tell me you enjoy traveling, I’m gonna assume you are an open minded person who, unlike half this nation, sees that there is a world beyond the USA that should be explored. But you tell me you went to all these exotic places as a sidebar on your resume, well, I’m gonna assume you’re a giant dick. Here’s why:

First off, if you traveled the world and scored a 3.7384 GPA all during your undergrad career, there’s a strong possibility that you are a spoiled rich brat who doesn’t know what work is to begin with—not a good quality for a job applicant. But you also open yourself to the possibility of making yourself look like a fucking idiot who gained nothing from the travel experience. For example, when you list Chili (sic) as one of your globe trekking destinations, I’m assuming you learned absolutely nothing from your trip except how to find a McDonald’s in a foreign land. (Hey, anyone know if they have Chili’s in Chile?) By the way, the fucking idiot who wrote that he’d been to “Chili” on the real-live resume that he handed to me, in a real-live interview, for a real-live job—and who continued to prove my point here throughout the interview—did not get an offer. Fucking idiot.

Oh, and if you’re gonna have an “Other Skills/Interests” section, don’t let that be what makes your resume bleed to yet another page, and don’t list just “Music” as an interest. “Playing guitar” I will accept, but “Music”? Come on man, show some heart. It’s like putting “Food” down there. Might as well put “Air” and “Masturbating” in your skills and interests section, while you’re at it. “Family” and “Friends” are two other curious entries often seen in this section; are those skills, interests, what? Or are you just trying to tell me you’re not the next Son of Sam?

So. Drop the GPA bullshit and let potential vet students worry about that one, use that Skills/Interests section cautiously, and don’t be a giant dick, kids. I’m reading. And judging.

I am unable to speak—have been for days—because I saw Bob Costas’ Olympic hair. You have GOT to be fucking kidding me.

My old college roommate sent me this gem, an a.p. story out of Columbus, Ohio. Read to the end for the kicker; I even put it in bold type, not that it needs any emphasis.

Ohio board reviews report of teacher burning kids By DOUG WHITEMAN, Associated Press Writer
COLUMBUS, Ohio - Members of the Mount Vernon school board met Friday to discuss a finding that a middle school teacher preached his Christian beliefs despite staff complaints, even using a device to burn the image of a cross on students’ arms.

Mount Vernon Middle School teacher John Freshwater also taught creationism in his science class and was insubordinate in failing to remove a Bible and other religious materials from his classroom, a report by independent investigators said.

School board members gathered a day after consulting firm H.R. On Call Inc. released its report. It wasn’t immediately clear what action, if any, officials in the community about 40 miles northeast of Columbus would take against Freshwater.

Superintendent Stephen Short declined to comment before the meeting. Freshwater’s attorney, Roger Weaver, didn’t immediately return a message seeking comment.
The report comes one week after a family filed a lawsuit in U.S. District Court in Columbus against Freshwater and the school district, saying Freshwater burned a cross on their child’s arm that remained for three or four weeks.

Freshwater’s friend Dave Daubenmire defended him.
“With the exception of the cross-burning episode … I believe John Freshwater is teaching the values of the parents in the Mount Vernon school district,” he told The Columbus Dispatch for a story published Friday.

Holy shit.

One time, in high school (not band camp), my friend Brian Scargill called someone an “assbutt” in gym class. I’ll never forget it. I thought it was brilliant, to call a guy an amalgam of slang phrases for the posterior. While I never forgot the moment, or the expression, I’ve never, ever used it. But now I am forced to do so, for fear of calling this idiotic moron something far worse.

Say hello to Assbutt “Breakdancing,White,In2006” Assholeface:

This horrific image captures the New York City Twentysomething Financial Sector Asshole Jerkoff in its natural setting around this time of year, the office holiday party. My dear friend sent me this picture as evidence that she needs to get the hell out of her current job, but I would argue that most office environments are habitats for similar specimens. Sigh…

Yeah, that’s right, there are trolls guarding the pedestrian bridge over Foothills Parkway just a few hundred yards from my house. This story should give you a good insight to some of the characters that inhabit this fine town of Boulder. I consider these people to be my outdoor pets.

It’s not that it’s always crowded, it’s not the hypocrisy of their touting sustainability while selling Chilean Tomatoes in the Garden State, it’s not the fact that they charge five clams for a tomato and cheese sandwich. The real problem with Whole Foods, at least here at the Boulder branch, is that the entire joint is crawling with two kinds of people, both of whom are irritating to the point that they give me a headache.

On the one hand, you have these self-absorbed health nuts wandering the aisles in their Patagonia walking pants and their Crocs and their hydration packs, zipping to and fro, stopping short at every goddamned free sample hawker (of which there are too many crowding the crowded aisles — a topic for another rant later), all the while wearing these sickeningly smug, self-satisfied smirks on their faces that seem to say “look at me; I’m never going to die”.

On the other hand you have these Patchouli-laden Naropa University poetry majors (hippies) to contend with. These free spirit-types like to float around the aisles — slowly, I might add — in search of tempeh, or flax. They get in the way, and they annoy me when they get upset over my overt displays of displeasure with their aroma and their happy attitude.

I just want to get something with meat in it and get the hell outta there, for chrissakes.

After doing battle with these evil forces for 20 minutes, I have usually lost whatever appetite I had, and my blood pressure is up 20 points to boot. I could actually eat nothing but grass smoothies in that joint and I’d still be unhealthier than if I simply went to El Taco Loco every day as is my wont, simply because the chilled-out groovy healthy climate in Whole Foods drives me NUTSO!

(I guess this is the first post on this website filed under Boulder and complaints. Don’t worry, I still love it here. I just hate everyone in Whole Foods. Oh, and the drivers all suck here too.)

Peter Tomarken, the host of the 80’s TV game show “Press Your Luck”, got himself and his wife killed in a plane crash the other day. The ultimate whammy.

From the eyewitness reports and the wreckage, it appears that he had a problem with the plane shortly after takeoff, apparently lost the engine, and was trying to glide back to the airport, and it just wasn’t in the cards. The sad thing is, they were out over water as they were turning around, and at some point it was probably better to ditch in the water rather than trying to “stretch the glide” to land. Instead of a controlled crash into shallow water, it looks like the pilot stalled the plane and caused the plane to nose over and descend very rapidly into the water; if they weren’t killed on impact they were likely incapacitated and drowned in shallow water.

Additional sadness: the Tomarkens were on an Angel Flight, enroute to pick up a patient in need of air transportation to a distant hospital for treatment. Angel Flight is an organization that organizes volunteer private pilots who fly these flights entirely for free.

Trying to stretch the glide is akin to pressing your luck.