Danatomically Correct

I am the 9.1% is moving!

2011-10-31T04:30:00.000-07:00

Well, that happened quickly. The folks at Chicago Now have decided to add my series "I am the 9.1%" to their site as a permanent addition. This is a HUGE deal, and I have to thank all the people who've been reading and following along.

Moving my blog to Chicago Now will help bring my story to a larger audience, and hopefully help spread the message of positivity and personal progress to everyone who's trying to navigate the doldrums of unemployment and underemployment.

Please take a gander and start following along over there: http://www.chicagonow.com/i-am-the-9point1-percent.

Cheers!

I am the 9.1%: Lemon Scones and Pendulums

2011-10-28T04:30:00.000-07:00

Borrowed from
awarenesshomefunding.wordpress.com/

This morning, I sipped my coffee and munched on a lemon poppyseed scone while I surfed job listings. Just as I was beginning to notice that listings matching my search terms looked pretty slim, I also noticed that my mug was empty. Normally, this wouldn't be much of an issue, but I needed something to wash my mouthful of scone down. I refilled the mug, but two minutes later there was half a cup of coffee left, but no more scone...and what's the point of coffee without pastry? So I got another scone, but then ran out of coffee again and refilled the cup, and then I needed more scone...

It went on like that for a while, and I can tell you now that A) after seven cups of coffee, I can see through time, and B) scones and coffee coalesce into concrete inside your belly.

All week long, I've felt out of balance, the scone-coffee conundrum just one example. It's all related to the calendar. Last Friday was my one month unemploymentversary, which means that today is the end of the first week of my second month without a job. Knowledge of time passing takes its toll, and it gets harder to keep up the bold face and positive attitude that's fueled me this far. Faith that everything's going to work out for the best gets harder to maintain when every moment of every day is a reminder that there's money going out, but none (or, at least, not nearly enough) coming in.

Money worries are, for me, the spark that causes a firestorm of doubt, diffidence and panic. When I run into troubles paying bills, that stress eats away at me until I can't see silver linings on any clouds, money related or not. Luckily, I've been surviving with my meager savings, but I received two unexpected bills in the last week. By the math, I've figured out exactly how much shorter my survival without income will be as a result of these bills, and I don't like the new numbers.

In tandem, the weight of money worries and transitioning from weeks without a job to months without one are throwing my load out of balance. I'm starting to get critical of my methods in job hunting, my strict daily scheduling and routines. The impatient, emotional side of me is creeping out around the edges, and it's harder to contain outbursts of irritation and impulsive reactions.

For instance, in response to a contract position I applied to, which very closely matched my experience and desires in career direction, I received an email that said:

"While we do not have any positions at your level currently available, things can change at a moment's notice."

This isn't a first, but it increasingly gets under my skin. I applied for a position that I knew full well was below my previous level, but went to great lengths in the cover letter to explain my desire to redirect my career and willingness to move down the ladder a rung or two if necessary. Today, it almost made me snap, and I started drafting a response that, among other things, questioned the recruiter's literacy and suggested they may be in possession extra chromosomes. Fortunately, I never clicked "send," but it was a close call. Instead, I refilled my coffee and brewed more sconecrete.

Mentally, though, I started a downward spiral. What's going to happen? Where did I go wrong? How will I make it? What's the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow? WHAT THE HELL HAVE I BEEN DOING FOR THE LAST FIVE WEEKS??? Then something happened: the doorbell rang. It was a serviceman here to paint some of my siding that had been damaged in a storm. Watching him do his work triggered my mind into a replay of everything that I got done or contributed to getting done during this time:

Patched, sanded and painted my staircase walls
Patched, sanded and painted my living room walls
Rearranged my living room and prepared dining room for new furniture
Converted my workout room into an office
Rearranged my bedroom furniture and incorporated an entertainment station
Purged my closets, unused electronics, books, kitchen cabinets, liquor cabinet, bathrooms, and garage
Installed new carpeting
Tore up old carpeting in Gramma's new house
Moved Gramma into her new house
Moved Auntie C. into a nursing home
Cleaned and purged Auntie C.'s house
Written an entirely new 10 minutes of stand up comedy
Applied to 148 highly targeted, well matched positions
Interviewed for twelve positions
Established a daily blog of 800-1200 words

I started to relax, and the worries subsided. That's a pretty good month in terms of productivity, if nothing else. Comparably, that's more than I've accomplished professionally in the last nine months of employment combined. Likewise, that's more than I've accomplished in my personal life in the past two years. Which again brings me back to the concept of balance. Life is a pendulum that rarely rests. It's constantly swinging, shifting focus from career growth to personal growth. The best situation is to stabilize to a point where there's no swing, the optimum equilibrium point where personal and professional are progressing in unison. But until that can be achieved, learn to accept the swings and see the benefits.

Five weeks ago, I lost my job. Today, I'm a better person for it. I've achieved great things and great perspectives in those five weeks. There's no reason for me to think I can't continue that trend into the next five weeks.

The serviceman finished up his painting, and I sipped my last swig of coffee, washing down my last bite of scone. And as I took a deep breath and started to feel better, my phone rang and I scheduled another interview for next Tuesday.

Who says it's hard to stay positive?

I am the 9.1%: Avoiding Distraction

2011-10-27T04:30:00.000-07:00

Borrowed from www.radiosurvivor.com

Right now, I'm looking at a stack of stamped, sealed envelopes stuffed with checks to cover gas, electricity, sewer and water, and garbage/recycling service. Last Saturday, the checks were signed, the envelopes sealed and stamps applied. Since then, they've sat exactly where they are now and I've glanced at them at least a dozen times and thought, "Hey, I've got to mail those!"

But I get distracted. A new email comes in, the phone rings, new job notifications arrive for my LinkedIn profile, iTunes plays a song I don't like, the cat pukes on the just-folded laundry, and the envelopes approach a state of permanent accessory. Gradually, the fourteen second task of running my bills out to the mailbox is indefinitely prolonged, late fees are automatically applied, a guttural laugh slowly erupts from deep in the once-occupied-by-a-heart-but-now-devoid-of-all-but-malice thorax of a sub-comptroller in the accounts receivable department at Nicor, the cat pukes on the new area rug, and I look at the envelopes and think, "Oh yeah, I've got to mail those!"

Distraction is a monster. Insidious and ever-present, it's the hardest enemy to escape. Even just sitting down to write this blog, I've allowed myself to be interrupted eight times. That's the crux in writing a blog: it's on the Internet, which happens to be the source of every major time suck in my life. I finally managed to click the "new post" button after responding to three Facebook messages, addressing two Facebook notifications, clicking on a Stella Artois ad and falling in a deep and profound love with Audrey and the 9 Step Pouring Ritual. I mean, gosh and golly, how lovely is her draught technique? And the accent...

What the hell was I talking about? Distraction! Right. You've got to fight it, and it takes every ounce of strength in your discipline thermos to do it. I'm so weak to distraction that the simple act of adding the links in the previous paragraph caused another twelve minute lapse in finishing this post. I'm sure this played into losing my job, as my productivity wasn't anywhere near my potential. Maintaining focus on the job at hand is difficult when that job is uninteresting or in conflict with expectations. Even in a job that's a good fit, it's easy to get distracted.

I personally like to think it's not Facebook or YouTube or iTunes or cat puke that's distracting. It's the work you don't want to deal with that's distracting. The negative emotions tied to paying bills or routing drafts for approvals or submitting daily reports to your supervisor are the distraction. That's why those other things own your focus in the moment.

How can distraction be eliminated? The best way I've found is to avoid the idea of multitasking. Historically, I've been a multitasking fiend; twenty different windows open, eight tabs in Chrome, carrying on a phone conversation while responding to an email. It's something I used to pride myself on. Multitasking, though, is just a sanctioned form of distraction. "I know we've got you working on X, Y, and Z right now, but please take a look at A, B, and C immediately. Then get back to X, Y, and Z. But not before we toss γ, λ, and β at you just for fun." Lately, I'm coming around to the idea that results all around are better when every ounce of attention is focused on one project at a time, and short-term deadlines throughout the day are adhered to. This not only achieves better quality on each project, but also helps to set expectations for coworkers.

Multitasking, in my opinion, has become one of the worst evils unleashed on employees by the corporate model. There's an ideal posited by business culture that a productive employee needs to consistently juggle multiple projects, be available 24/7 via email and telephone, and have an accurate answer to any work-related question instantaneously. That's a model that leads to otherwise easily avoidable errors. It seeks quantity not quality and trades efficiency for mindless yield, and what's the point in that? The pressures created by that kind of atmosphere lead to self destruction and poor oversight. Under the strain to keep all those balls in the air, be available constantly, and be ready at a moment's notice to expound upon the details and status of each project, people will fail. What's more, in my experience, the business world isn't the least bit forgiving. Mistakes are not tolerated. Do one thousand things right, and no one notices. Screw one thing up, and everyone calls for your termination. What a horrific combination for a healthy society.

Distraction isn't limited to daily duties. It happens in a macro sense, too. It's easy to get distracted from long term goals by short term successes or failures. In the past month, I've reacquainted myself with goals I set for myself years ago but abandoned through attrition in the intervening time. Some simple, some complex, but all of which I've finally been able to clarify for myself. All this "how did I get here" and "what do I want out of life" evaluation stuff hasn't just been for shits and giggles, and it's revealed to me that I let myself get off the track almost as soon as I got on. At least I've been able to backtrack to a point that now makes sense as a new starting line, and I'm off and running. No more detours, no more diversions, no more distractions.

I am the 9.1%: Goals, Achievement and Clarity

2011-10-26T04:30:00.000-07:00

Borrowed from teensports.webs.com/

See previous post in this series: click here

Goal setting has been a perpetual problem for me. That grasp of the long term has always eluded me. Sure, I've been more than capable of deciding on a very general goal and chasing after it, but it dawns on me now that a more organized and directed approach could serve better. More thought up front probably makes for more desirable results.

When I went to college, I never set any goals for my education. The most clear desire was to enjoy my time and get a generic diploma. It was all very abstract to me, trying to choose the rest of my life based on a few hours of coursework and an office visit with an advisor. During my four years, I never put much thought to the future and lived day to day. Eventually, I settled on a major that allowed me to take the classes I found most interesting in a very general way: public relations. The program consisted of lots of writing, which interested me, as well as emerging digital media. Instead of specializing in a specific area, I chose a broad-based education that exposed me to many different things and played to my strengths while accommodating my weaknesses.

After graduating, it didn't take long for me to realize that employers want that specialization. They want to see some kind of expertise in a specific area; work experience will eventually flesh out the generalized industry exposure. In effect, I'd gone about my college education in a very backward way, and walked out with a fancy piece of paper, but little effective preparation for the professional world. I hadn't taken the time to really explore career options and investigate the future. Instead, I spent the entire time thinking only of the assignments of the week, at best planning out through the end of the semester, never stopping to evaluate the work I was doing and the path I traveled.

To be honest, this is perhaps my greatest regret. College is such an important opportunity to find and follow a passion, and I blindly followed the first advice I was given by my academic advisor. To this day, I'm plagued by my willingness to hand over my future to the decisions of a third party. I learned many valuable things at college, and I was enriched by the experience, but I blew the real opportunity to sink my teeth into something unique.

My only goal following graduation was to find a job in public relations. Sadly, I didn't have the first clue as to what that meant, again, because I didn't take the time to grasp the big picture of the industry during my education. I'm sure this showed in every job interview, because I didn't get a single job offer. Eventually, I worked a string of data entry temp jobs and retail positions and developed a massive, crippling chip on my shoulder, and had the equivalent of a nervous breakdown at 24.

Seven years ago, I set a goal to use my college degree professionally. Up to that point, I hadn't worked a single day in my degreed field. I had, successfully I might add, established myself in ice rink management, but an alarm started going off inside my mind. It would blare through my thoughts, "You spent lots of money on a degree! Use it! USE IT!" Eventually, my ability to enjoy the rink work completely faltered because I couldn't shake that thought for even a second daily. So, just like now, I began compartmentalizing my days into blocks of time. Outside of work, everything I did was designed to advance towards the goal. And after a year of steady effort, I landed a job on the periphery of public relations: marketing and publishing.

That's the point at which I failed in follow-through. I'd taken a step towards the goal, but misidentified that step as goal achievement. Even though that job was at best a launch pad in the right direction, I convinced myself it was the destination. When I'd worked in that position long enough, I padded my resume with that experience and found another marketing position, ignoring the original goal completely. The farther I traveled away from that goal, the more obscure it became, until it no longer existed.

Reflections on who I've been, where I've gone, what I've done, and where I am now not only show how important the journey has been to my development in relation to the goal itself, but also demonstrate the powerful drain of feckless decisions. Recognizing this now is yet more motivation for me to stay on task in a long term fashion. Develop a career goal, write it down, and keep it prominently front of mind. Do all the requisite research to be sure it's the correct goal, and allow for zero distraction or alteration. Make the goal as grand, unrealistic and specific as possible. What better way to drive decisions in a way that emphasizes the importance of the journey? What better way to commit now to consistent progress?

I am the 9.1%: Legacy and Dignity

2011-10-25T04:30:00.000-07:00

Borrowed from www.admin.cam.ac.uk/

See previous post in this series: click here

My mother has an elderly aunt who was just moved into a nursing home. Dementia finally incapacitated her, and she could no longer live on her own. The only reason my mother is involved is because this particular aunt had no children, spent 60 years alienating herself from her family and friends, and quite literally had no one else.

This aunt (we'll call her Auntie C.) had been completely estranged from the family for nearly twenty years, mostly by her choice, but as her generation began to age and die off, my mother reached out to her from a sense of obligation. Starting in the mid-1990's, my mom would regularly take her dinner, take her out shopping and to the doctor, check in and make sure she was still breathing. Because there was no one else, my mom now holds power of attorney, and in this situation that means maintaining the estate and conscientiously dealing with health care decisions. And once the situation concludes, what remains of her aunt's estate all goes directly to distant relatives in Poland.

Power of attorney in a situation like this turns into a full time job. Earlier this year, my mom retired after 43 years of teaching. Instead of enjoying her retirement, now she must deal with this nonsense. In many ways, it's the proper epitaph for dear Auntie C. She's an unfortunate example of someone who lived a long life thriving off the miseries of others, a human engine powered by spite. Her goal at family functions was to systematically demean the achievements of everyone else in the room. There was no single unfortunate misunderstanding that led to her estrangement; past a certain point, let's say the fourth wedding she ruined, no one wanted her around and by all accounts she had no interest in being around.

Even recently, despite my mother's efforts to find any drop of sincerity left in Auntie C., she burned all of her family photos and her wedding dress in her fireplace because, "They're mine, and I can do what I want with them, and I don't want anyone having them." Photos and a wedding dress...things that have no value but sentiment, and she'd be damned if she'd allow anyone the chance to have any pleasant remembrances of her. By her own doing, we have someone who's purposely alienated everyone and everything she's ever known. Someone who's left a legacy of only anger and indignity. When she passes, not a single person will mourn. No one will be left with fond memories, no stories of Auntie C. will be passed down to new generations.

How terrifying is that to contemplate? After 94 years, she'll simply disappear. Her home will most likely be sold, demolished and redeveloped. All her artificial plants and artificial hair (she wore the same wig for as long as anyone cares to remember), untouched since 1954, will wind up in a dumpster. There will be no photos or mementos. Once the emotions about the situation pass through my mom, Auntie C. won't even be memory, as she'll be happily forgotten or filed away in the memories that never get accessed.

What the Hell does this have to do with my unemployment or career perspectives? Well, if nothing else, it's motivation to leave a mark, and not a dark one. Work towards things I believe in, and goals that improve myself, my family and the world that I touch. If 94 years of life can be so easily discarded, my short time on Earth is just as tenuous. I may not be able to control the outcomes of my choices, but I most certainly can control the intentions, and do my best to leave people better for having known me. Furthermore, I'd implore anyone else to do the same.

It just goes to show, even a long life is too short to forego passion. Working in a career you don't believe in, are indifferent to or disdainful of, just to earn is a sin that no one with an ounce of self respect should contemplate. Living for yourself, to line your pocketbook, to diversify your portfolio, will really only get you money. Living for happiness, for your family, for the people in your world and striving for ubiquitous quality in every aspect of your life will get you substance.

Can everyone work their dream job? No, of course not. Unfortunately, the world needs people to do unpleasant jobs. What anyone can do, though, is to treat their job with focus and positivity, never losing sight of the parts that are truly rewarding. Treat the people in your job and in your life with respect and care. You can achieve that which is most important: dignity.

I am the 9.1%: Support Systems and Behavior

2011-10-24T09:23:00.000-07:00

Borrowed from jschae.blogspot.com

See previous post in this series: click here

I've talked about how first thing after losing my job, I arranged to be the official school courier for my girlfriend's son. That established more than a routine; whether I was aware or not, I had taken the first step in tapping my support system.

If I'd been asked what my support system looked like before I got fired, I wouldn't have known what to say. Typically, I tend to bear my problems internally, and then act out aggressively towards the people in my life--my girlfriend can tell you how successful a recipe for personal satisfaction that is.

For whatever reason, my reaction in this situation was different. Very straightforward, purely honest, reaching out to those closest to me for support. As if I was weaving a spider web, I called my girlfriend, then my two best friends, then my family, and so on. I didn't broadcast my situation, at least not at first (I didn't start blogging this until a month into it), but I made a point to reach out to the people who've consistently demonstrated their loyalty to me and dedication to our relationship. Without fail, every single person in that grouping gave me what I needed at the time: a shoulder, a voice, an ear or a laugh. The value of such quality people in my life has been immeasurable, and has contributed in no small part to my ability to stay positive and productive.

There's been so much about this experience that's been completely different than any other personal catastrophe I've endured, not least of which has been my atypical response to every moment of it. High-strung would be an accurate description throughout my life. Tightly-wound and short-fused might also apply. I implore any people close to me to go ahead and share their thoughts in the comments. This time, though, none of my responses have fallen in line with my habits of internalization, hyper-criticality, and overreaction. Something's kept me reasoned and measured. Maybe I've grown up, maybe I've learned that time and time again, the only way to make a bad situation worse is to allow immediate emotions to dictate actions. Or, for that matter, I've been reminded of the inherent good in the people I've chosen to surround myself with and that's kept me in check.

The thought did cross my mind to send elaborate floral arrangements to several of my former coworkers with some variation on the theme, "Fuck you! Sideways! With ridiculously large and pointed objects!" spelled out clearly and lit with sparklers. Fortunately, I was able to decide this was neither prudent nor wise with the help of my support network.

Seriously, though, in the past I've made some spectacularly poor decisions in the heat of reaction. For instance, there was the way I left the first ice rink I managed. After four years, the general manager had different designs on the future of the business that conflicted with my ideas, and after several months of increasing tension, I walked in, delivered a letter of resignation blasting him and his treatment of me and the other employees, his "myopic vision," and "characterless comportment," and also distributed copies to the ownership and the rest of the management staff. On the one hand, I burned every bridge I'd built there, on the other I got to walk away feeling proud of my ten dollar words with a misguided sense of vindication. It's taken me nearly eight years to figure out the folly of what I'd done. Not only did I put my livelihood in danger (luckily, I began working at a different rink immediately), I also branded myself a maniac with my only professional contacts at the time.

I carried my grudge against that manager for years, until very recently. It took a lot of soul searching to figure out that frankly, I was the douchebag in the scenario. Not because I had conflict with my manager, but because I didn't bother to address him professionally or appropriately throughout the months of conflict. The entire time, I stood fast to a position of I'm-right-you're-wrong, and dedicated myself to "winning." Eventually, it was solely my emotions doing the driving, and of course, they led me down the wrong path.

Now, I don't want this misunderstood: everyone should have principles, and they should stand by them. I was right in having my vision for the business, but I was wrong in not being open to other visions, especially considering I wasn't the only person making decisions. Furthermore, it's OK to leave a job for the equivalent of irreconcilable differences. If you can't get behind what your company is doing or how your manager chooses to operate, voice your concerns professionally and exit gracefully. But don't make a huge, noxious ass of yourself in the process. It benefits no one; not you, not your manager, not the company, and the damage lasts longer than suspected.

Righteous indignation is only one trap. Apathy is another. Quietly accepting unacceptable situations is poison. For years, I've done that, and the end result is where I'm sitting today: uncertain and unemployed. The most damage done to my mindset in the office came at the result of not being assertive enough about my career direction, and allowing the simpering condescension of coworkers to invade my mental state. It's up to me to stand up for myself, and I intend to do so more effectively from now on. Offices tend to be stocked with "type A" personalities. Something to remember: "A" is for "asshole." Anyone who proudly refers to themselves as a "type A," and insists on offering unsolicited advice and nonconstructive criticism suffers from a horrific disease that is best treated with avoidance and dismissive responses.

Why am I carrying on about my ridiculous professional failures in the past? Because the most important cog in your support system is you. Using all your experiences, mistakes, triumphs and everything in between, it's up to you to figure out appropriate responses and reactions, and the right steps to continue in a beneficial direction. A great quote to help get through those days when the office dogma is stifling and the people around you are sapping your will to go on:

“Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, first make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes.” — William Gibson

Go to next post in this series: click here

I am the 9.1%: Quality is Job Fun

2011-10-22T04:30:00.000-07:00

(Image borrowed from FerdyChristant.com)

See previous post in this series: click here
I'd like to thank Alltop.com for listing my blog in their careers section (it's waaaaay at the bottom). I've been getting good response to this, and that's a great feather in my cap on which to end the week.

It's a Saturday, the first Saturday of this series. Saturday is leisure time for me, a day that I don't spend time on job hunting or chasing whimsies or pursuing personal projects. There are people out there who'll insist that every moment of waking life be dedicated to momentum, and every step taken should get you closer to achieving your goals. I'm not one of those people.

While I'll agree that maintaining momentum is important, I insist that there must be time allotted for leisure, even when you're down on your luck. Fun is one of the most important figures in any equation resulting in success. If you spend too much time focused on your job hunt, you'll burn out. Once the supply of jobs listings is exhausted, the only thing left to focus on is the lack of jobs, and that's a killer. That eats up all your stores of positivity, and saps away from your feelings of inspiration. No good, DO NOT WANT! Instead, turn to your hobbies and your friends to refuel those stores and good vibes.

If you've been reading along with this series, you know by now that I go to great lengths to keep my days organized into blocks, and in so doing, assign myself deadlines to help keep things on task. It's my way of making sure that my time is spent working towards quality results. Cover letters I'm proud to submit, resumes that make sense, pages of screenplay that make me laugh, blog posts that are engaging and motivational to read (hopefully). I try to apply the same quest for quality to my leisure time.

Here are my rules for any leisure activity:

They must blur my focus. Whatever it is I'm doing has to pull me out of my head completely for the duration of the activity. It's got to be something that forces me out of whatever "zone" I'm in. Frisbee golf, regular golf, video games, reading a book or magazine (preferably fiction). Something that absorbs me completely. One of my favorites is tooling around in Illustrator. Some people love to play Black Ops. I love working through Illustrator tutorials. Don't judge.
They should be social. I spend more than enough time on my own, with only me for company, and I'm boring and irritating company after a few days. Human interaction with people I like is one of the most efficient activities for reinvigorating my well of inspiration and positivity. One hour fishing, riding bikes or playing Mario Kart with my girlfriend's son, watching a hockey game with my best friends or having dinner with my girlfriend is enough to top off my tanks for a good long time.

I feel like it's important to add a sub-topic to this bullet point. People can also be toxic. I'm very careful to quarantine myself from negativity and aggressiveness. There are lots of people out there who resent other people's success, have nothing positive to say or contribute, or only offer backhanded compliments. I used to be one of these people, until I recognized how destructive it was to me and all of the people in my life. It helps immeasurably to systematically identify these people in your life and limit your interaction with them. For me, the first step in getting away from those influences was limiting my time on Facebook and Twitter.

They should be new, different and enriching. As often as possible, I try to do or learn something I've never done before. Keeps me fresh and my mind sharp, and gets me out of my comfort zone. Inhibition stands in the way of success at every turn. Uninhibited pursuit of leisure leads to uninhibited ambition (at least in my mind). Learning to get out of your comfort zone during leisure time opens you up to new experiences in other areas of your life. This isn't to say that I never repeat things; I definitely have my favorite hobbies (Frisbee Golf, cycling...), and I do them as frequently as I can. But there was a point in time when I'd never done those things before, and had to discover how much fun they were. There's only one way to find your favorite things: try them, whether you think you'll like it or not.

That's it. That's my recipe for fun. What I'm trying to achieve here is balance. Quality leisure in response to quality productivity. Best case scenario: a 50/50 split between that two.

Most important though, is that the end goal of everything, leisure as well as productivity, is quality. Whether it's in a job application, an illustration, a freelance job or an evening out with friends. How do you measure quality? Simple: how good do you feel about it when you're done with it? Take the time to review at the end. If you're satisfied, you've achieved quality. If you put your mind and heart into your efforts to your fullest abilities, you've achieved quality. The key to applying this measure is honesty: you've got to be completely honest with yourself in your assessments, or else you'll get comfortable with laziness and deficiency. Keep your standards high, and don't allow yourself the latitude for disappointment.

Go to next post in this series: click here

I am the 9.1%: Odd Jobs Don't Stand Still

2011-10-21T04:30:00.000-07:00

(Image borrowed from TheGamingLiberty.com)

See previous post in this series: click here

Inevitably, during the course of a job hunt, there will be down time. There will be days, maybe even weeks during which not a single job opening will look right. Today, for instance, I searched through seven different job boards from 8:00 a.m. through 11:00 a.m., and came across a total of two jobs that fit my experience and career goals. By 11:00, though, I was merely duplicating efforts and finding the same listings I saw at 8:00. When this becomes persistent, what do you do?

For one thing, this is exactly why I give myself deadlines throughout the day. I set aside three hours a day for job searching. Three hours isn't some arbitrary number I just decided upon, either. After a few days of relentless job searching directly following my termination, I observed that by the three hour mark, any listings I was finding were repeats. I'd either already applied to them, or I'd seen them and filtered them out for fit. If this starts happening early into my three hour job hunt block of the day, I switch gears towards more unconventional means.

When the standard job boards stop working, I roll over, in order, to these methods:

Go directly to the websites of companies and organizations you respect. Most modern businesses post jobs on their websites. This is a good, focused approach if you have a list of preferred employers in mind. Learn to live with disappointment, though, when their listings are thin or even empty.
Troll the temp agencies. Just like most modern employers, temp agencies post openings on their websites. I'm not above resorting to data entry or warehouse work if I have to pay my mortgage while looking for something else. Go straight to the home pages of local and national temp services and start looking for something to get you by. I like Manpower, and I've had luck with them in the past.
Pound the pavement. Get old fashioned, print up some resumes, and walk into local businesses you'd like to work for. This is bold, and perhaps frowned upon by some places. In fact, I've gotten yelled at for doing this and nearly chased from the premises at one office. On the flip side, I've also gotten jobs and freelance gigs this way in the past. As a matter of fact, I started my first career out of college by doing this (Zamboni Driver/Ice Rink Management). Frankly, a decade ago, this kind of approach wasn't at all strange. Anymore it's a bit risky and perhaps awkward, but like I said in a previous post: once the bottom falls out, who cares about risk?

I also take some time to start looking for unconventional jobs. Odd jobs (there's a reason I picked that photo at the top!), as the case may be. If I'm going to resort to something outside of my field to bring in a paycheck while I wait out the economy, I may as well resort to something fun, or something no one else I know has done. The best place to find these kinds of positions is the print want ads in local, regional or commuter newspapers. Some of the more unique jobs I've found, applied to, and interviewed for out of the old fashioned want ads:

Tiger Groomer

Unbeknownst to me, a traveling circus was headquartered not far from my home at the time. I found the ad in the commuter paper, and it had just those two words and a phone number. How do you not call that? I interviewed with Gunther, a hairy chested German, met his eight Siberian tigers, and decided that I didn't want the job after I received an offer for $250 a week during an open ended engagement in Jakarta, with the warning that, "Tigers are dangerous animals. If you stick your finger in the cage, don't expect to get it back." True story.

Marine Weed Harvester

My county has quite a few small lakes, and the Public Works department operates several weed harvesting boats throughout the summer to clear some of the more overgrown lakes and make them more boat and recreation friendly. I could've been the guy who drove the boat. This is one of those instances where my college diploma probably did more harm than good in the application process.

Canoe Tour Guide

Along with all the lakes, my county also has several miles of rivers and creeks. There's a market for canoe lessons and day tours. I honestly don't know why I didn't get this job at the time. Probably because when I was 22, I was even more arrogant than I am now, and I'm sure that showed in job interviews. Also, no one likes a fat guy in a canoe, it's just impractical.

I know that throughout this series, I've been stressing that there's no point in applying to jobs you wouldn't want or be good at. This is different. This is not a career choice, it's a job to fill your days and get you some cash flow. For me, unemployment benefits don't cut the mustard, and even a part time job would put more money in my pocket for bills. The benefit of these unconventional jobs is that they're often more fun than anything else, and they leave you time and flexibility to keep hunting for more work. Aside from that, it's entertaining.

Something else to consider in times like these is individual enterprise. Take that step into entrepreneurship if you have an idea, a concept, a product...anything. Write that screenplay or manuscript. If you "don't know how," do some research. It's not that hard to track down emails these days. Reach out to your favorite authors or directors or business people with two direct questions about how to get a project off the ground. Failing that, type "how do I launch a product," or "how do I get published" into Google, and start reading. Grab a notebook and scribble down some points, too. Why wait? Today's the day to start chasing those whimsies you've put off forever. When else will you have this kind of time at your disposal? Most important during this time is to never stand still. Stay focused, keep momentum, go forward.

In the meantime, here are some links to some podcasts and articles that have been encouraging and motivational for me:

The Joe Rogan Experience with guest Kevin Smith: I happen to be a fan of both of these guys. They're both great examples of guys who said, "This is what I'm going to do with my life," and then did exactly that extremely successfully. This particular episode is long, but there's a lot of gold speckled throughout.

The Cult of Done: Great manifesto for staying on task and moving forward.

11 Famous People Who Were in the Completely Wrong Career at Age 30

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I am the 9.1%: Unemployed but Focused

2011-10-20T06:28:00.000-07:00

See previous post in this series: click here

It took less than one week for me to get a job interview. That gave me a head of steam to push through and keep applying for jobs. After that first interview, though, it became a lesson in focused job hunting. CareerBuilder has a tool called "QuickApply" that allows users to submit the same resume to dozens of jobs at the same time. As soon as I got home after losing my job, I sat down in front of my computer and applied to every single position that had the word "marketing" in it. For someone in a freshly fired mindset, this tactic makes a lot of sense: cast a wide net, catch everything you possibly can. Unfortunately, the end result is wasted time and effort.

After applying to, according to my CareerBuilder account, 46 jobs, I closed the laptop and started making a few phone calls, tapping into my network to see if I could find any leads that way. Within fifteen minutes, I found out that (shocker!) the job market is tight and none of my contacts had much to offer. But those 46 job applications were hard at work, and by the following Monday, I'd lined up three phone interviews and an in-person interview. Unfortunately, I didn't have the first clue about any of the positions because I'd used that stupid QuickApply tool, and couldn't quickly or easily track down each job to get the description, and so fumbled my way through the interviews.

The in-person interview was an ordeal to say the least. It was for a position with an equipment manufacturing company. While I have plenty of marketing experience, I have virtually no exposure to that business sector. I'd taken some time to research the company, their products and their industry prior to the interview, but there's only so much that can be learned in a day. Couple that with my interviewer, who was a Russian engineer with the dead-eyed stare and humorless manner of Vladimir Putin, and I was walking a tightrope for an hour and a half. At the end, I left knowing the job wasn't right for me, nor was I the right person for the job, and Vlad the Impaler had no interest in hiring me (evidenced clearly by his declaration that I'm "lazy or stupid" for not having a master's degree).

What we have here is a lesson in efficiency. Casting a wide net did indeed get me interviews, and very quickly in times of such high unemployment. But it didn't get me a job, and the interviews I did get were for jobs that I would've most likely hated and performed poorly at. And that translates into wasted time and effort. It's a classic case of taking the path of least resistance, making the easy choice for the quick fix, and a repetition of the behavior that's delivered me to my current status. I spent fifteen minutes applying to 46 jobs, which landed me four interview opportunities. That sounds impressive for fifteen minutes of effort, until you consider that I also ended up interviewing for upwards of four hours, spent two hours driving and used gas, only to find out that none of the jobs made sense for me. I'd've been better off spending that time and energy focusing my job search with pinpoint keywords, diligently reading job descriptions, and applying to the ten that sounded like a good match to my skills and goals. Heck, it's not just a matter of the time and resources squandered now, it's also the months or years put into another job leading in the wrong direction if I were to get and accept a job offer.

Since that first week, I've worked much harder at narrowing down the jobs that are a good fit, and crafting my resume and cover letters for those positions. All of my effort has been focused on quality vs. quantity, and the results have been good. I've maintained a steady stream of interviews (at least one in-person interview a week), and only for jobs in which I'm genuinely interested and qualified to do. I'm concerned that this method may take more time to actually land a job, but that's tempered by the thought of derailing myself again by chasing down any job whether it's right or not. I should also mention that I'm not just searching for office and marketing jobs; I'm searching for less conventional jobs that I might also find rewarding. Community service positions, crew jobs, things I've always thought I should experience but have been too intimidated to investigate.

During that first week, I also took the initiative to meet with a career counselor at my local job center as a method of evaluating my career path, and developing some goals. Everyone should do this, if it's an option. For me, it was an opportunity for the obvious to slap me across the face, and sometimes people need that. It also opened my eyes to several resources I otherwise wouldn't have found. Something that's particularly interesting is O*NET Online. It's an incredibly interesting site with a wealth of information about careers, education, and guidance in goal setting. If you're even remotely quizzical about your career path, spend at least an hour on that site. It's well worth it.

Go to next post in this series: click here

I am the 9.1%: Perspectives from The Event Horizon

2011-10-19T07:52:00.000-07:00

See previous post in this series: click here

In a flagrant disregard for local traffic laws, the first thing I did from my car as I drove home from my last day at the office was call my girlfriend. Not to vent, not be emotional, but to set up a routine of taking her son to school every morning. At that moment, I had to build a routine for myself; my impulse defense against sinking into quicksand.

Up to this point, I believe that simple and immediate action was the best possible response I could've had to the situation, and I'm glad it's the first thing that occurred to me. That one daily function has become a single point of reference that's kept me on task with the rest of my duties. My point of reference could've been anything else--the rapid countdown of my meager savings being spent on survival, the approaching end of health benefits, the impending rapture (rimshot!)--but somehow my brain settled in on something constructive in the face of fears. For me, that's a major triumph, because I've spent most of my life as a slave to fear.

As a high schooler, I was too afraid to do much of anything. For all four years, I was too afraid to get in trouble or suffer consequences to have any fun at all. In college, I had some glorious moments of disobedience, but honestly just repeated high school by consistently taking the path of least resistance, avoiding risk, and accomplishing very little. That fear followed me through most of my professional life. Every job I've had as an adult has been 100% more about paying the bills than any kind of satisfaction from the work. That's not to say I haven't enjoyed my jobs--I have. But I've never yet done a job that fully engaged me, that was really a good fit, because I've always had this perverse fixation on the practical.

Despite several examples amongst my friends and family of people who manage to synthesize their passions into a profession, the model in my head of practicality dictated that it's not possible. Somewhere along the way, I picked up the notion that you can be anything you choose to be, provided it fits into the corporate mold. If you want to be a writer, go into public relations or marketing, for example. Following a dream purely for the sake of the dream is vanity and folly. It's so much easier, so much less risky, to mold yourself to an existing job.

Getting fired is the kind of thing that throws that perspective into harsh relief, as that reality warps around the event horizon of a career black hole. Suddenly, the flaws in this line of thinking become quite obvious. Chasing down a paycheck, forcing my square peg into a round hole, is exposed as fraud. Eventually, doing the wrong job, suppressing career desires and goals, and ignoring what's important on a visceral level catches up. Instead of waking up and saying, "Another day of this shit," it becomes, "Another thirty years of this shit," and soon enough that's no longer an option. Maybe you get fired, maybe you have a nervous breakdown. Whatever the case, your momentum is impeded.

At that point, it's time to evaluate things. That's what I've spent a lot of energy on. Why am I here now? Is it because the economy sucks, employers treat people poorly, and shit happens? Or is it because I was in the wrong job, doing the wrong work for the wrong people, with the wrong perspective on how to have a career? By completely disregarding my dreams and passions, did I set a timer on my career self-destruct mechanism? One thing is certain: I'm not being steered by fear at the moment. Once the bottom falls out, you can't afford to be afraid, risks and consequences be damned.

One of my friends, Mary Tyler Mom, (read her blog, it's outstanding, touching, human, tragic and triumphant) has a mantra that I've been using. It might seem simple or mawkish, but it makes a difference. It keeps me positive, and steers me toward productivity: Choose Hope. It's a simple reminder that my mindset is up to me. I can decide to see the harsh realities of the world I live in, or I can decide to see the potential to move forward and improve that world.

See next post in this series: click here

I am the 9.1%: The Beginning

2011-10-18T19:41:00.000-07:00

(Image Borrowed from www.thefrugalhome.com)

This Friday will mark week four of my unemployment. It will also be week four of active job searching and zero hours of paid work. This is significant in that it means I am officially contributing to the figure of national unemployment. I am the 9.1%.

I've never really lost a job before this. I got laid off from a temp job once, but that's not really the same; it was temporary in the first place, so I was expecting it to end. Interestingly, I've been fairly numb through this point. Maybe it's the fact that throughout the course of my professional life (the past decade), exploring the job market has been a cruel, cutthroat, harsh journey with no finite destination, so the idea that I'm fundamentally a commodity to be purchased or liquidated by my employer isn't foreign to me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I fully expected the day to come when I was suddenly jobless, because it's just the way of the world anymore.

I say I've been numb to it, because overall that's been my average state of being when examining the situation. Sure, I've gone through the requisite stages of anger, frustration, terror, sadness, denial, malaise, but the overwhelming majority of my time has been spent prioritizing and compartmentalizing my life. I schedule each day into blocks of productivity. Wake up at quarter to seven, take my girlfriend's son to school. Two hours job hunting. Four hours painting my living room. One hour tending to household repairs neglected over the past seven years. Visit career counselor. One more hour job hunting. Read news. Read book. Repeat in no particular order daily, speckling in other duties as assigned. Not really too different from having a job.

Staying busy this way has kept me from slipping into my standard mode of obsessive and ultimately destructive analysis. Typically, when confronted with an unacceptable life situation, I review the situation time and time again in my thoughts, examining it from every angle, looking for a solution. Universally, the result is that I waste months or even years probing the situation, but not moving forward in any productive sort of solution. Eventually, a convenient escape will present itself and I'll pursue it whether or not it's an improvement.

That's exactly what led me to my current situation. My previous job had gotten stale in certain ways that were no longer acceptable to me. Professional advancement within the organization kept coming at the expense of my career goals. The system was pigeonholing me in a direction I was loathe to go, on top of a daily commute in excess of four hours total. I gradually became blind to the upsides of my position and overwhelmed by the drawbacks. For the year and a half prior to leaving, I spent 100% more time looking for a way out than I did on improving the job. Then one day in May, I found another job much closer to home, but doing the exact same kind of work I no longer wanted to do. And then in September, I got fired.

Was I ineffective and sloppy in my work? Did I choose a position I wasn't well suited to? Or was the position misrepresented to me during the interview process? For that matter, were my new employers incapable of communicating expectations or giving even the slightest ounce of direction? Perhaps in my new position I was working for a group of terminally disorganized people. To some degree, the response to each of these is, "yes." The one real, honest gripe I have is that there wasn't a single conversation about fixing whatever the issues may have been. Instead, I was given four and a half months with no feedback whatsoever and then I was let go.

Actually, it's completely inaccurate to say I only had one real, honest gripe. I was hired as a project manager. The most complicated project I was assigned during my four months was a power point presentation. Which I did without the slightest bit of verve, style or detail, but with plenty of kwality (yes, with a k). Because I have a bad attitude that if you assign me piddlyshits, I will return piddlyshits to you. I'm working on that attitude, for the record.

Interestingly enough, my unemployment and the Occupy Wall Street phenomenon have been virtually concurrent, and I've been following along. What I find most interesting is the way that people who are against these protestors are completely occupied by them. On Facebook, on Twitter, even Google+, every third item is some incredibly inflamed rant against them. Occupy Wall Street seems to have been far more successful as "Occupy Conservative Armchair Pundits." And of course, that's one of the goals of a social movement: get other people to talk about you. In that regard, bravo Occupy Wall Street. Now try to stop spitting on people and dropping deuces on police cars...it's not helping. Rise above, then rise against. That's how you get people like me to support you. I'll come right out and say it, too, that I'm pretty much in agreement with everything the Occupiers are angry about.

Go to the next post in this series: click here

Seven Minute Haiku

2010-08-13T11:13:00.000-07:00

How many haiku can I write in seven minutes?

face punching badass
I am not so much, but then,
really, few men are

I'm sorry I'm fat
it's just kind of my hobby
Twinkies are tasty

I just read a book
About Abraham Lincoln
I am such a nerd

In college, I lacked
direction and good purpose
Really, I still do

Seven minutes speeds
quickly by on the timer
I could be working...

Baseball on TV
reminds me to do laundry
both take a long time

One more short minute
and my haiku writing
will gladly be done.

Well, that was great.

Seven Minute Blog: Cheerios

2010-08-12T13:19:00.000-07:00

4PM2U7UNNQSS

I am painfully aware of how much the world has changed since my childhood every time I go grocery shopping and see that there are 10 different styles of Cheerios as opposed to just one.

I want to believe this is progress, but deep down inside, it just makes me more prone to believe I'll end up soothing my once glimmering, freedom-loving soul with bromides from Ann Coulter and Glenn Beck tricking me into believing that My Country was once a more wholesome and righteous land, but has been utterly corrupted by the French and liberals and youth, miserably drinking myself to death with expensive bourbons and whiskies, sitting in a leather chair in a darkened parlor beneath a gun rack and a Don't Tread on Me flag.

But I'll be old and near death, and it'll be OK that my ideals and love for John Stewart and cultural acceptance have been long-since abandoned. And Cheerios will no longer cause me existential crises.

Seven Minute Blog: Movies that make me emotional

2010-07-21T11:54:00.000-07:00

I have seven minutes to write a blog, and what you're going to get is a list of movies that make me emotional. It's not a top five or top ten, because I don't have the kind of time I'd need to prioritize. So here are the ones that occur to me right now:

Once
This movie is stark, raving humanity. Two people broken down by life happening to them, struggling to find a way in general life. There's romantic tension between the two leads, who don't even have names in the film, but as the tension between the two of them builds to a head, you discover that the tension is actually not between the two of them, but between them and their lost loves in the past. Also, it's a non-conventional musical, and the music is outstanding.
The Graduate
I just really identified with Ben Braddock when I was in my early twenties. And Anne Bancroft planted the seed of America's current cougar obsession.
My Neighbor Totoro
Miyazaki has this ability to synthesize complex social commentary and existentialist angst
into stunning fanatasies that mesmerize.

All right, my time is up. I've actually written for ten minutes instead of seven, so I broke my own rule.

Resolute

2010-02-19T07:02:00.001-08:00

Imagine that I'm singing this list of resolutions as I play a tune on a lute. It would be my Reso-lute.

In 2010, I'll chase these things:

1) Sell my house
2) "Make it" in comedy
3) Stop being awkward
4) Work the phrase "n'est plus ultra" into 70% of my conversations.
5) Swim to Tahiti
6) Shake a baby
7) Hunt, kill and eat a Pygmy
8) Intro every set I do with, "Hello, Ft. Lauderdale!"
9) Move somewhere else, Like Montreal or Swaziland
10) Drink the chicken juice
11) Starve a giraffe
12) Instigate the official Third Defenestration of Prague
13) Instill a healthy triskaidekaphobia in anyone named "Big Glasses Matt"
14) Get a tattoo of the back of my head on my face
15) Whenever someone introduces themselves to me, say, "Huh...you look like more of a Susan."
16) ...stop being awkward...
17) Sing "Moon River" whenever I'm at a urinal
18) Spend three weeks in the Lincoln bedroom before anyone notices I'm there
19) Teach an entire generation to say "spigot" instead of "velveteen"
20) something something something smoke pot something something
21) Fraudulently practice contract law
22) Learn to snore more loudly
23) Split all of my infinitives
24) Design an engine powered by spite
25) Grow a sixth toe on my left foot
26) Discuss my sweat glands with complete strangers
27) Wear ugly sweaters
28) Make obscure and esoteric references in a very general way
29) Introduce myself with an inappropriate level of intimacy
30) Perform the sign of the cross after shaking hands
31) STOP BEING AWKWARD
32) Say "Rock 'n Roll!" instead of "goodbye"
33) Clip only ever other fingernail
34) Turn "persimmon" into a verb
35) Name a cat "Lloyd"
36) Fight for pickle suffrage
37) Fire my underpants for insubordination
38) Drink a daily tonic of apple cider vinegar and tapioca
39) Apply for Micronesian citizenship
40) Claim my collected bowel movements as dependents on my tax return
41) Ask everyone who crosses within three yards of me, "May I have this dance?"
42) Screw it. Go ahead and be awkward.

The Old Man Chronicles

2009-12-18T07:09:00.000-08:00

Today, I decided I wanted to have a bagel with lox and cream cheese for breakfast. I stopped at Jaffa Bagel, which is conveniently located in the lobby of my office building.

Aside from the fact that I ordered a bagel with lox and cream cheese, the events that transpired between order and payment made me feel old. It was kind of ridiculous actually. I'll deliver this in script format:

Me: I'd like a sesame bagel with lox, tomato, onion and cream cheese.
Bagel Lady: Toasted?
Me: Yes, please.
Bagel Lady: OK.

Bagel Lady selects a sesame bagel, slices it, puts it in the toaster, then takes the next order. While she's helping the next customer, my bagel finishes toasting, and Bagel Manager picks it up.

Bagel Manager: Who had the sesame?
Me: I did.
Bagel Manager: What would you like on it?
Me: Lox, tomato, onion and cream cheese.

Bagel Manager hands the bagel back to Bagel Lady and tells her my order. She puts some lox on the bagel, then She looks at me and says:

Bagel Lady: You want tomatoes and onion?
Me:(blinks twice) Yes, please.
Bagel Lady: Cream cheese?
Me:(blinks twice more) Um...yes.
Bagel Lady: OK.

Bagel Lady builds the sandwich, wraps it, puts it in a bag, hands to the cashier. I walk to the cashier.

Cashier: What do you have?
Me: Sesame bagel with lox, tomato, onion and cream cheese.
Cashier: With cream cheese?
Me: (glances to both sides to see if perhaps there are three of me) Yes!
Cashier: So a bagel with lox and cream cheese or a lox sandwich?
Me: Is there a difference?
Cashier: Did you have tomato and onion on it?
Me: (searches around to see if there's a rewind button for the conversation) Yep. I did.

The Cashier rings up the sale, and as I'm walking away, I hear the next person in line order a blueberry bagel with plain cream cheese. Bagel Lady proceeds to ask her if she wants cream cheese on it.

Does this seem like a ridiculous experience to anyone else? Because it did to me. And then I felt old because it felt so ridiculous.

Exhaust

2009-11-10T10:39:00.000-08:00

There is no sanctity of the self anymore. We've created a culture of mass produced, manufactured individuality. Even our counter-culture idols stand up and scream at the top of their lungs, "Be like me! Think like me! Behave like me!"

I don't even feel like ranting about it anymore. I've got no faith that anyone sees the fallacy, or that I'm correct for feeling and seeing the world this way. I'll just make it my Holiday Wish this season that everyone can stop pretending that they're not drones following whatever popular trends arise. It's fine to adhere to popular gestalt; we are, after all, products of the time in which we exist. We consume the pabulum we are fed, and everything we are fed is pabulum. Whether it's Chef Boyardee, DIY Punk, Paste Magazine, the latest Scholastic Books release, or whichever underground indie flick is wowing audiences across the nation, we're not really much more than the exhaust of the consumer culture engine.

I'm just going to quote some of my favorite pabulum, because I'm part of the problem:

We owe so much money, we're not broke we're broken.
We're so poor we can't even pay attention.

So what do you want?
You want to be famous and rich and happy,
But you're terrified you have nothing to offer this world;
Nothing to say and no way to say it.
But you can say it in three languages.

You are more than the sum of what you consume!
Desire is not an occupation.

-KMFDM. Dogma, XTORT. WaxTrax/TVT Records, 1996.

What am I even talking about? I need a milkshake.

Crucible Connections: On The Road explained.

2009-11-06T08:29:00.000-08:00

This is why my friend M Town Mikey grounds me. He can put my words in order when I get so frustrated with something that I can't spit anything out.

------------------------------------------
From: Daniel Morris
To: M-Town Mikey
Subject: RE: Just for you

On the Road made so mad. MAKES me so mad. What is it about that book that was so special? What the heck? Why do so many people live in awe of it and Kerouac? There’s nothing in there! Nothing! Neal Cassady sweats a lot, they're all assholes, and then it ends. Pointless, meaningless, insubstantial claptrap. A vapid, sanctimonious exploration of pure and loathsome nihilism.

What did I miss? Seriously, what did I miss that’s so substantial that Kerouac is taught as the savior of American literature?

-Dan

------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: M-Town Mikey
To: Daniel Morris
Subject: RE: Just for you

I don't know that it's accurate to say that Kerouac is taught as the savior of American literature. The only people I've known who really LOVE Kerouac are unrealistic. It's not fair nor accurate to call them naive or innocent, but I have always regarded them as... magical thinkers, I guess.

I have never taken a Kerouac course. However, I could totally see such a course going like this:

Professor: Welcome to Kerouac and On the Road. In this class we'll discuss how two world wars and the resulting military-industrial complex so traumatized our nation that people came to believe that this piece of shit On the Road represents...something.

Student: You mean it isn't any good?

Professor: Just read, okay?

Student reads the book.

Student: Wow...

Professor: I know, right? It's a total piece of shit.

-M-Town Mikey

GNC is a bunch of filthy, scum liars.

2009-06-18T06:49:00.000-07:00

A few months back, my roommate got strep throat, on top of a bad respiratory infection/flu type thing. And this thing lingered. Not wanting to catch The Dreaded Lurgi, I spent $29.00 on GNC's house-blend immune system booster, which the kindly Macedonian gentleman behind the counter guaranteed would make me, "Strong like bull, beautiful like tractor."

I took two of those capsules a day, every day, so I could stay healthy. Yes, I took two of them a day just like the bottle said, not on an empty stomach, drinking plenty of water, and do you know why I stopped? I stopped because after a week and half, I got hit with Lurgi Force 10, and was sick non-stop for a freakin' month.

I figured at the time that the sickness had already gotten a hold of me before I started taking GNC's fine brew. I find out now, no, GNC's fine brew is encapsulated bullshit. Because once again, my roommate has brought home the Lurgi, and from the moment he started to complain of feeling unwell, I popped the top on those bad boys and started huffing them down like Kim Kardashian with a tray of morning after pills. I'm going on vacation Saturday. I'm NOT getting sick.

Haha! WRONG! AGAIN! The Lurgi is now flowing from my bowels and seeping from my olfactory crevices. And with it, I'm sure, several grams of corn syrup and food dye masquerading as $29.00 worth of immune system boosting agents.

I'm so going to go sneeze on that Macedonian guy.

Cracked

2009-04-14T07:23:00.000-07:00

I cracked yesterday. I was on the phone with Comcast, because I was interested in upgrading my cable so's I can enjoy the NHL playoffs in delicious digital HD. In speaking with the friendly and helpful service person on Comcast's end (this must've been an aberration; most of the time, Comcast phone customer service people are surly, rude, and ignorant of their own services and policies), I learned that it would be an extra $60 per month to add the digital starter package and an HD box, plus installation fees.

Now, on the website, this same package is $29.99 a month. With free installation. For new customers only. I asked if I could get that deal, and found out that not even an agreement with Satan himself could secure it.

My inner 60-year-old came out to play, and I snapped on the one and only friendly and helpful Comcast staffer in the world. I felt bad about it afterward, but my head may have popped like a water balloon had I not.

I said, verbatim, "You know what, screw this. I'm so f***ing tired of cable companies and wireless companies and every other service I subscribe to caring 100% more about new subscribers than me." This is where he interrupted me, but I just kept talking over him. "You want to charge me literally 100% more than a new customer because I've been stupid enough to loyally pay Comcast every month for the past five years."

I've got no excuses, and I won't pretend. I'm old. Maybe not in age, but in mind. These darn kids and their subscriber packages. Why are new subscribers more important to these companies? Why's it OK for them to lose money on new subscribers, but it's not OK to cut existing subscribers any slack? Why do I have to pay an $18 upgrade fee to AT&T Wireless when I renew my contract and get a new phone? Why does my cable bill go up every three months even though channels disappear? Why is it when I want to UPGRADE any services to either of these companies (read: give them more money every month), there are always service fees that go along with it that I wouldn't be paying if I wasn't so foolish as to be loyal.

I get so mad just thinking about it...anyway, I feel bad about yesterday because I ruined that dude's day for no good reason. It's not his fault he works for fiscal rapists. It's not his fault I'm a technology addict.

Point is, anyone know how to steal cable? Because I don't want to give ANY of these people my money anymore.

Facebook Fans

2009-03-05T07:27:00.000-08:00

So, wow, I've got Facebook fans. 31 of them. That's pretty darn cool.

I'll be doing another stand up set tonight. Stay tuned. Because tonight's set doesn't hinge on the line "Babies don't have money." Or some subtle reference to improper uses of deli shaved ham.

My Facebook Fan Page

Midway Games: Bonuses of Bankruptcy

2009-03-03T11:26:00.000-08:00

Take a look at this.

Midway Games, filing for bankruptcy, selling off any assets of value, firing thousands, and paying out executive bonuses.

So far, we've seen this behavior from credit institutions, banks, manufacturing...any industry touched by the recession. Now, even video game companies. I understand in rough times, companies must downsize. But if the company is going to downsize while allowing the executives who led them confidently towards failure to receive bonuses, my faith in free market economics is officially murdered.

Bonuses?! BONUSES?! You get a damn bonus when the company is profitable. If you're filing for bankruptcy, you don't deserve a damned bonus. But the people who worked creatively and devotedly for you certainly deserve their paycheck and, if need be, their severence and PTO payouts. Disgusting, absolutely disgusting. I wish this was the only story like this, but from AIG to Wachovia to GM to blah blah blah, bailed-out and bankrupted companies are paying out billions of dollars in bonuses while putting literally millions of people out of work around the world. The one silver lining on this story is that Midway isn't paying bonuses out of taxpayer money from bailouts.

Slimey, scheming, scum bastards. Screw begging your pardon, if this is capitalism and free market economics in action, color me socialist or communist or anything BUT capitalist. My trust in the individual is no more.

Holiday Inn City Center Peoria

2009-02-28T13:51:00.000-08:00

Perhaps I'm a snob, perhaps I'm being picky, but, I sent this message to the hotel general manager:

Let me begin by saying that I have found the staff at the Holiday Inn City Center Peoria to be helpful and professional beyond reproach. They are all well-mannered and courteous. I appreciate the many complimentary services, including wireless internet and parking.

Unfortunately, for the $118.00 a night plus 11.5% tax I am spending during my stay here, the accommodations are shocking. Shocking is a strong term, and I wouldn't use it if I was not, indeed, shocked and appalled by the state of my room. The bathroom seems to have suffered through some sort of serious event. Joint tape on the ceiling in the shower is peeling and hanging loose. The shower head fixture has pulled away from the wall, the seal formed by the caulk broken. Baseboard trim behind the toilet seems to have been hastily applied in hopes of masking some sort of damage. When I sit on the toilet, it shifts precariously. It took twenty-five minutes for the water in the shower to become luke-warm enough to bathe in tolerably, and then suddenly became scalding hot as I was applying my shampoo.

Beyond the bathroom, one of the table legs on the desk is broken, enough so that I wouldn't want to put any weight on it. The weather seal around the window in the room is barely intact, and bleeds the cold winter air from outside.

When I booked my stay, I was not expecting accommodations of opulence and luxury. I was, however, expecting a well maintained room in which I could comfortably perform my daily ablutions. The price of this stay is by no means a bargain. It is a fee that demands a certain standard which has not been met. It is a shame that the dedicated and helpful staff here, which does indeed include you, will never, ever receive my business again.

Yours with extreme disappointment and dissatisfaction,
-Daniel Morris
Room 303

Me and My Stand Up

2009-02-27T06:54:00.000-08:00

So this is what I do. And dream about. And stuff.

Recently:

Second Stand Up from Daniel Morris on Vimeo.
http://vimeo.com/3391290 for those of you on Facebook, because the embedded video won't get imported into my notes.

Previously:

Dan does stand up from Daniel Morris on Vimeo.
http://vimeo.com/3292963 again, for the facebook people.

Helpful Devices

2009-02-25T12:47:00.000-08:00

I saw this on a coworker's desk today:

My immediate thought was that it must be one of those new Mr. Popeil Executive Enemas, for when you just don't have the time to leave your cubicle. I was completely wrong. But do you know what it is? I'd like to know your thoughts.

This particular Dunkin' Donuts can eat me

2009-02-11T06:23:00.000-08:00

There's a restaurant in my building called Ponte Fresco. Before I started this wacky vegetarian thing (which...my God, I haven't pooped like this since I was an infant...), I used to go to Ponte Fresco every Friday morning and buy a large coffee and a ham egg and cheese croissant. It was the best breakfast sandwich available within a fifteen minute walk, and that's saying a lot.

This morning, I walked into Ponte Fresco, because it was time to eat some meat. I'm not doing this vegetarian thing for moral reasons, just health. And I've been eating so healthy lately, filling my belly with okra and tofu and celery and pinto beans, that I could scarf down an entire flash-fried buffalo and, as long as I ate a Fiber One bar afterward, suffer no ill effects. I craved that ham egg and cheese croissant, jonesed for it. First time in over a month.

Of course, wouldn't you know it, they don't make it anymore. Which not only sucks but also makes me feel guilty. With my switch to oatmeal and fruit plates, was I the only one supporting the Croissant program at Ponte Fresco? Did I contribute to the decline and fall of an institution near and dear to my heart (indeed, clogging my heart from the inside)? Yes, yes I did, and now it's gone forever.

At this point, did I just buy a bowl of oatmeal and cave in to the healthy lifestyle? No. No I did not. But I should have. Instead, I walked down to Dunkin' Donuts, and ordered an extra large coffee and a bacon, egg, and cheese Waffle Sandwich. With the order came the discovery that when frequenting this particular establishment, I can fairly assume that I'd be wise to stick with the eponymous Donuts.

Take two Eggo waffles, shrink them by 40%, and betwixt them, put some scrambled egg that's been in the freezer, and a few strips of vulcanized rubber in the shape and color of bacon and cheese. Dip the whole thing in luke warm water, microwave for forty five seconds. Wrap it in paper and stand around for fifteen minutes, to simulate the completely incomprehensible wait at the actual shop. That would be a fair facsimile of the Waffle Sandwich experience.

Furthermore, I'm assuming since everyone who goes into Dunkin' orders their coffee with cream and sugar, they brew it extra weak so as not to offend. I taste nothing that even remotely resembles coffee. I taste hot water. Perhaps a hint of chickory. But coffee? No sir.

Also, I need someone to explain to me the deal with coffee lids at Dunkin'. What's with the completely removeable tab on the top? What purpose does it serve? It doesn't anger me...just completely confounds me. WHY DOES THIS THING COME OFF? Is it for ninjas who need an emergency shuriken? What's the deal?

Next time I feel like breaking the diet, I will remember this. And, no, I won't order oatmeal instead. I'll do the sensible thing, walk down to McDonald's, and get a McGriddle.

A Video, which if you're a nerd like me, you'll enjoy:

What the hell is happening to me?

2009-01-30T07:24:00.000-08:00

The other day, I'm driving to the local Home Depot. Turning off my street onto the main road, I notice a guy walking down the street on the shoulder, dressed in black. It's about 8:00 at night, and the first thing I think is, "Goddammit, why are there always people walking here? And why are they always wearing black walking on the shoulder of a main road at night?"

I started to get all worked up, the way I do, zero to cranked in about two seconds flat. Stupid people tempting me to murder them with my car. Don't they know I'm not stable, don't they know I've got a Polish temper, don't they know all it would take is a little nudge to tip me over a psychotic break?

Just as my temper is about to reach the flashpoint, a new thought crosses my mind: "Wait a second...there's always people walking here...why isn't there a sidewalk?"

You'd think the village would provide a safe artery for pedestrian traffic. How much could it possibly cost the village to build five blocks of sidewalk? To be fair, I don't think there have been that many pedestrian casualties on that stretch of road. But does that mean the village should wait until there are to lay down some concrete slab?

My village is a low income community where many people use public transportation, which they have to walk to. It would only make sense that there be sidewalks. And don't start with the "who's going to pay for it" crap. I've worked maintenance and construction. It wouldn't break the village.

I used to ride my bike along that stretch of road to the train station, and I stopped and started driving because I got clipped by rear view mirrors every day. Never injured, but scared shitless many times. Having had that experience, why did I immediately get mad at the pedestrian? Because drivers think they own the road, and no one else, cylists, pedestrians, hell, even motorcyclists, should be allowed fair passage. I know this, because I am a driver, but I'm one of those rare drivers who also occasionally walks, rides a bike, and a motorcycle.

I guess what I'm getting at is, next time you're driving and you get pissed off because someone's on a bike or walking on the shoulder, take a couple of steps to become reasonable again. A) Read the rules of the road (in illinois, bicycles have the same road rights as automobiles). B) Take a walk or a bike ride once you park your car for a little perspective.

Gosh, I'm such a party pooper these days.

Inauguration Day

2009-01-20T10:50:00.000-08:00

Today, CNN.com and Facebook partnered to provide live streaming video of the inauguration to Facebook users who could log in and monitor their friends comments during the coverage. It was interesting, but overall just another social marketing gimmick. That doesn't mean I didn't participate, it just means that I'm a judgmental cynic.

While I was watching the coverage and feverishly trying to keep pace with friends and their status updates, some of the comments really caught my eye, for good and bad reasons. Some of these were (and it's up to you to put value judgments on them...also, names are withheld because I'm at least a little discrete):

"...thinks it is interesting that in 05 Democrats were aghast that GW spent 40 mil on his innaugeration in a time of war. Obama is on track for 150 mil. hmmm."
"...is not unlike Lee Greenwood in the fact that today, she is proud to be an American."
"...is FEELING VERY PATRIOTIC, AND HOPING FOR THE BEST!"
"...is mushy about America."
"...is just happy to be alive today to see this."
"...didn't realize there was going to be a new president. Wasn't George elected King for life?"
"...still can't believe "we" elected a foreign-born Muslim!"
"...wonders if the country will wake up in three months with a hangover and a case of "coyote ugly"

Half of the comments are generically patriotic, the other half are partisan claptrap either anti-liberal or anti-conservative, or specifically anti-Obama vs. anti-Bush. I won't pretend that this is a representative sampling of the public at large. It's just a random sampling of people I know somehow in some way. And it's all either blind hope or senseless venom. Personally, I come down on the side of blind hope, and yet, I take no great comfort in it.

I think, the only thing I'm taking away from this random and scientifically insusbstantial sampling of comments by my facebook friends is that my faith in the ability of Americans to rally together as Americans is dying or dead. Conservatives will be conservatives to the bitter end, as liberals will be liberals, and partisan pants-pissing will forever distract us from governing the nation and ourselves.

Sweet Jesus, prove me wrong. I'm not asking Obama, or Biden, or Bush or Cheney or McCain. I'm asking America, if America is listening.

Crucible Connections - Clam Chowder

2009-01-08T05:00:00.000-08:00

Crucible Connections is an ongoing series featuring real conversations shared over work e-mail...

Don't ever get this comfortable with your coworkers:

________________________________________
From: Guitar Hero
Sent: Monday, May 08, 2006 8:51 AM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: rabbit food

There are some snacks in the break room—if you don’t mind catching a rash of health.

-Guitar Hero
________________________________________
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Monday, May 08, 2006 8:52 AM
To: Guitar Hero
Subject: RE: rabbit food

Is that like VD? Because if it is, you can keep it.
________________________________________
From: Guitar Hero
Sent: Monday, May 08, 2006 9:43 AM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: RE: rabbit food

Did you try the snack in there? The dip has less taste than your grandma’s clam chowder.

-Guitar Hero
________________________________________
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Monday, May 08, 2006 9:44 AM
To: Guitar Hero
Subject: RE: rabbit food

Yeah, I noticed that. It also has less taste than my Gramma’s clam.

Did I actually just type that? And Send it? I mean, doesn’t my keyboard have a “backspace” or “delete” key? Jesus, I’m dumb.

-Dan

Crucible Connections - Lord Dandlemort

2009-01-07T05:00:00.000-08:00

Crucible Connections is an ongoing series featuring real conversations shared over work e-mail...

My secret identity is exposed:

________________________________________
From: Bobby Fair Housing
To: M-Town Mikey; Daniel Morris
Subject: My Scar

So, I have realized a few parallels in my life to Harry Potter’s life. First I have a big nasty scar, albeit mine is on my shoulder and is from surgery not magic, but none the less I have a scar. My scar sometimes itches and sometimes it even hurts, Harry's scar did the same thing. Mine tingles or even becomes painful when Dan is around. Harry's became itchy when Voldermort was accessing his thoughts or when Voldermort was in pain, agony, grief, etc. I think that this parallel is enough evidence to say that Dan may have made me a horcrux when I had my surgery, I am not sure how he did it but he did. Also, I may have to question whether or not we should call Dan “Dandlemort” or just stick with “Dan”? So, Dan I have some questions but I can't ask you via the phone or in person for fear of my scar hurting.

-Bobby Fair Housing

________________________________________
From: Dan Morris
To: M-Town Mikey; Bobby Fair Housing
Subject: RE: My Scar

1) Call me Dandlemort
2) I killed your anesthesiologist, performed your surgery, and turned you into a horcrux.
3) I like cheese.

________________________________________
From: Bobby Fair Housing
To: Daniel Morris; M-Town Mikey
Subject: RE: My Scar

So from now on, I shall call you Dandlemort.
When did you learn to do surgery?
I also like cheese, especially Gorgonzola and Havarti.

________________________________________
From: Dan Morris
To: M-Town Mikey; Bobby Fair Housing
Subject: RE: My Scar

I never learned to do surgery; I just know how, for I am Lord Dandlemort. By the way, I should probably tell you, when I did your surgery, I just kinda cut your shoulder open, jiggled some stuff around to make it look like something was different, and sewed it back up. For all my talk about “for I am Lord Dandlemort,” I’m not a surgeon, dude. So, like, you might actually want to go back to your doctor at some point and ask him to take a few x-rays or something. I mean, your shoulder probably isn’t right. Like, probably definitely. I spilled a little of my beer in there, and I didn’t wear gloves or anything. And, not that I really remember all that clearly because I was kinda buzzed, but I think I stuffed a bunch of polyfill into you. But I did spray a bunch of Fabulous Blaster on the joint to, like, get it all clean and lubed. I did do that.

Boy, um, this is just kinda getting worse and worse, isn’t it?

Hey, nuts to this. I am Lord Dandlemort! I make no apologies or excuses! Fear me and the tingle I bring to your scar!

Like, Rock On and stuff.

-Dan

________________________________________
From: Bobby Fair Housing
To: M-Town Mikey; Daniel Morris
Subject: RE: My Scar

You should have put some Great Stuff in there, that stuff works well.
-Bobby Fair Housing

Crucible Connections - Foul Drink Authority

2009-01-06T05:00:00.000-08:00

Crucible Connections is an ongoing series featuring real conversations shared over work e-mail...

Energy Drinks: how I used to survive the office.

________________________________________
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Thursday, May 18, 2006 8:37 AM
To: M-Town Mikey
Subject: Foul Drink Authority

I was feeling sluggish this morning, so I stopped at a gas station to buy some coffee or something. They were selling two cans of “Von Dutch” energy drink for $2, the bargain of the century. So I bought two cans. I’m 2/3 done with one can, and I’m all hopped up on goofballs. A co-worker asked me if it was FDA approved, and I responded, “If by FDA you mean Foul Drink Authority” then yes.”
________________________________________
From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Thursday, May 18, 2006 9:17 AM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: RE: Foul Drink Authority

What’s it taste like?

M-Town Mikey
Copywriter
________________________________________
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Thursday, May 18, 2006 9:18 AM
To: M-Town Mikey
Subject: RE: Foul Drink Authority

It tastes a lot like putrid filth.

________________________________________
From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Thursday, May 18, 2006 9:21 AM
To: 'Dan Morris'
Subject: RE: Foul Drink Authority

I love how that narrows it down.

M-Town Mikey
Copywriter

Crucible Connections - 'Rheumatiz

2009-01-05T05:00:00.001-08:00

Crucible Connections is an ongoing series featuring real conversations shared over work e-mail...

Another short but very important entry:

________________________________________
From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Thursday, May 18, 2006 10:18 AM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: RE:

Oooh. Hot time in the old town tonight! *awkward pelvic thrust*

M-Town Mikey
Copywriter

________________________________________
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Thursday, May 18, 2006 10:21 AM
To: M-Town Mikey
Subject: RE:

I just got a mental image of you as an old man, thrusting your pelvis half sideways and half forward, because you had to relieve the ‘rheumatiz in your hip.

________________________________________
From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Thursday, May 18, 2006 10:27 AM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: RE:

That’s like some psychic shit, dude, because that’s the mental image I was trying to project.

M-Town Mikey
Copywriter

Crucible Connections - Active Drug Use, Insulin, and 12 year olds

2009-01-02T05:00:00.000-08:00

Crucible Connections is an ongoing series featuring real conversations shared over work e-mail...

I don't even know what to say about this one. Maybe just that I'm not right in the head.

________________________________________
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Thursday, May 04, 2006 8:27 AM
To: M-Town Mikey ; S. Utahraptor
Subject: RE: Good Morning!

I’m going to replace an important word in our vocabulary, for the moment, with the word “active”.

Yesterday and today I have been so freakin’ “active”.

Like, every fifteen seconds, all I can think about is how “active” I am.

I’m so “active” that it would be unwise (for appearances) to do much walking.

Oh, by the way, Bobby is not working today due to his insulin pump training so I took his email off the chain.

I wonder if he’s feeling “active” today as well. If so, it’s not by my doing.

________________________________________
From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Thursday, May 04, 2006 8:30 AM
To: Dan Morris; S. Utahraptor
Subject: RE: Good Morning!

Oh! Insulin pump training! He can put that on his resume. I was at my sister’s birthday party in Berwyn and this girl came up to the door with a wad of bills in her hands and asked if she could buy a diabetic syringe for her friend. At first we were all freaked out because we thought she was a junkie, but then we realized that she was just a stupid person with a stupid friend who didn’t plan ahead enough to bring her insulin syringes anywhere.

M-Town Mikey
Copywriter
________________________________________
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Thursday, May 04, 2006 8:32 AM
To: M-Town Mikey ; S. Utahraptor
Subject: RE: Good Morning!

That’s pretty stupid. Did your sister have a supply of syringes? Because that would be odd.

________________________________________
From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Thursday, May 04, 2006 8:38 AM
To: Dan Morris; S. Utahraptor
Subject: RE: Good Morning!

No, she didn’t. And there was a Walgreens like five blocks away. She could’ve walked over there. I was thinking that since a lot of my sister’s friends are really hip and cool and skinny that she thought we were all heroin addicts, but that’s just a theory.

M-Town Mikey
Copywriter
________________________________________
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Thursday, May 04, 2006 8:41 AM
To: M-Town Mikey ; S. Utahraptor
Subject: RE: Good Morning!

Yeah, but would you really want to use a syringe from a heroin addict for your insulin? That’s more dumb than not bringing the syringe with you in the first place.

Also, my level of “activity” is making it difficult for me to concentrate. I’m thinking about getting a bowlful of ice cubes.
________________________________________
From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Thursday, May 04, 2006 8:42 AM
To: Dan Morris; S. Utahraptor
Subject: RE: Good Morning!

Whoa whoa whoa…what do you mean be active? LOL  BFF!

M-Town Mikey
Copywriter
________________________________________
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Thursday, May 04, 2006 8:47 AM
To: 'M-Town Mikey'; S. Utahraptor
Subject: RE: Good Morning!

HAHA! Best friends forever. That’s AWESOME.

I always wanted to be a twelve year old girl.

Wait, something about that sounds unwholesome. Perhaps what I mean to say is when I was twelve I always wanted to be a girl.

No. That’s worse.

Um.

BFF! ☻UR2GR8!

I think I might have to vomit now.

Crucible Connections - Underoos

2008-12-31T05:30:00.000-08:00

Crucible Connections is an ongoing series featuring real conversations shared over work e-mail...

An incredibly short exchange, but well worth posting:

________________________________________
From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Thursday, May 04, 2006 7:34 AM
To: S. Utahraptor
Cc: Bobby Fair Housing; Dan Morris
Subject: Good Morning!

Good Morning, people! Are we going to change the world today?

No. I didn’t even change my underoos.

M-Town Mikey
Copywriter
________________________________________
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Thursday, May 04, 2006 8:21 AM
To: M-Town Mikey ; S. Utahraptor
Cc: Bobby Fair Housing
Subject: RE: Good Morning!

Whatever happened to underoos? I used to have fire truck underoos.

________________________________________
From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Thursday, May 04, 2006 8:22 AM
To: Dan Morris; S. Utahraptor
Cc: Bobby Fair Housing
Subject: RE: Good Morning!

They started making them for hipster girls.

M-Town Mikey
Copywriter

Downer's Grove

2008-12-31T05:00:00.000-08:00

I'm interrupting the Crucible Connections series for some of my own banter. It's my blog and I get to schedule the programming how I wish.

The city of Chicago has a suburb called Downer's Grove. This town used to be home to a Sears Outlet Store before there were such things as Outlet Malls. At the beginning and middle of every school year, my mom would herd my brother and I together, and we'd head to Downer's Grove for clothes shopping.

Because i was five, six, seven years old, I had some irrational fears. Specifically pertaining to Downer's Grove, I was terrified of the place. Why? Because I thought that's where they kept everyone who had Down Syndrome, and I didn't want to catch it. Yeah, I know, you can't catch Down Syndrome. Try to explain that to a six year old. We'd drive into town, and I'd duck below the window line of the car, I'd fight with my mom when we got to the Sears because I didn't want to get out, I'd scream exactly like the little bastard that I was. The worst was the time I actually saw a kid who had Down's at the Sears Outlet.

ANYWAY, there's a reason I'm posting this. Not because it's funny, which you gotta admit, it kind of is, and not to make myself look bad, which it kind of does. I'm posting this because two people you may be familiar with after the first (and hopefully perennial) Crucible Connections series, M-Town Mikey and Bobby Fair Housing don't believe it. They think it's some sort of elaborate ploy. The inroads to my secret and cunningly insidious plan to lure them into my cult of personality, I guess.

M-Town Mikey doesn't believe that a six year old would even know about Down Syndrome. Clearly, I didn't know all that much about it because I was terrified I was going to catch it. But I knew it existed. Which is too hard to believe.

Bobby Fair Housing thinks it's a stretch that a six-year-old would come up with it on their own. Maybe, he suggests, it would be easier to believe if my brother or father told me that to scare me. Apparently, six-year-olds are incapable of abstract thought. I suppose this is possibly a legitimate point.

Whatever the case may be, it's true, and I'm still kind of scared of Downer's Grove, and I'm about to turn 30. So, like, that's that. Although, my cult of personality is open to anyone who wants to join.

Crucible Connections - Craponade and Science

2008-12-30T05:00:00.000-08:00

Crucible Connections is an ongoing series featuring real conversations shared over work e-mail...

Perspectives on scientific research:

From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Monday, September 18, 2006 1:01 PM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: RE: Sleep

Well, your initial assertion could be seen as making the best out of a bad situation, or, scientifically, ‘making craponade.’ If the only reasonable course of action is not liking people, you shift your perspectives so that you enjoy not liking people. The risk, of course, is that you dislike people unnecessarily.

M-Town Mikey
Copywriter

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Dan Morris
Sent: Monday, September 18, 2006 1:02 PM
To: M-Town Mikey
Subject: RE: Sleep

Well, I do dislike a lot of people.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Monday, September 18, 2006 1:03 PM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: RE: Sleep

See? That’s what the scientists call “Making Craponade.”

M-Town Mikey
Copywriter

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Dan Morris
Sent: Monday, September 18, 2006 1:08 PM
To: M-Town Mikey
Subject: RE: Sleep

By “Scientists” do you mean dumpster-humping homeless people?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Monday, September 18, 2006 1:08 PM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: RE: Sleep

No!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Dan Morris
Sent: Monday, September 18, 2006 1:09 PM
To: M-Town Mikey
Subject: RE: Sleep

Oh. Then what do you mean?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Monday, September 18, 2006 1:10 PM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: RE: Sleep

You know, scientists, man. With goggles and lab coats and monsters in the big castles in Eastern Europe. Scientists.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Monday, September 18, 2006 1:12 PM
To: M-Town Mikey
Subject: RE: Sleep

Oh! Scientists! I see now. Our ideas of study design and implementation must be very different.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Monday, September 18, 2006 1:13 PM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: RE: Sleep

What do you mean?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Monday, September 18, 2006 1:15 PM
To: M-Town Mikey
Subject: RE: Sleep

Well, when you envision scientists testing a hypothesis, you see lab coats and goggles and steaming, frothy beakers. Me, I see a couple homeless dudes hopping in a dumpster and taking care of business until they achieve substantial, measurable results.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Monday, September 18, 2006 1:16 PM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: RE: Sleep

Hm. That explains so much more than just this recent confusion over the meaning of scientists.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Dan Morris
Sent: Monday, September 18, 2006 1:18 PM
To: M-Town Mikey
Subject: RE: Sleep

Clearly. The advancement of science has been and will continue to be a struggle.

Crucible Connections - Return on Investment

2008-12-29T05:00:00.000-08:00

Crucible Connections is an ongoing series featuring real conversations shared over work e-mail...

A professional exchange between coworkers.

From: Dan Morris
Sent: Wednesday, July 26, 2006 9:24 AM
To: Pickles
Subject: RE:

Dear Sir,

Your recent proposal of a professional trade agreement in which Daniel Morris and Associates rhythmically strikes the culmination of the hyperbola of your cranium, in return for which Pickles Partners Incorporated delivers a mighty foot-based wallop unto the delicates of Daniel Morris and Associates, is regrettably denied. Thorough analysis of the cost/benefit ratio reveals that the benefits of rhythmic cranial tapping are outweighed egregiously by the costs involved with sumpteresque kicks to the groin. In terms of Return on Investment, projections indicate only a 5% profit margin on a proportional investment of 6000%.

Pickles Partners Inc. is invited to make a more equitable counter-offer, however, at this time and under current conditions, Daniel Morris and Associates must reject the current proposal.

Cheers,
-Daniel Tiberius Fennster-Obelthwaite Hironimus Jennings , Esquire.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Pickles
Sent: Wednesday, July 26, 2006 9:31 AM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: RE:

In response to your ruling on said trade agreement, herein referred to as the “Pact,” Pickles Partners Inc. would like to extend a counter-offer in lieu of the imbalance of said previous Pact. Pickles Partners Inc. maintains its requirements of walloping the delicates of Daniel Morris and Associates, in exchange for which Daniel Morris and Associates will be granted the right to rhythmically strike the culmination of the hyperbola of my cranium AND will receive one free paper clip, the size of which will be determined by the legal team of Pickles Partners Inc. and will be bestowed upon Daniel Morris & Associates at a time and place left to the discretion of said legal team.

Sincerely,

-Pickles
Public Relations & Marketing Coordinator

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Dan Morris
Sent: Wednesday, July 26, 2006 9:38 AM
To: Pickles
Subject: RE:

At this time, Daniel Morris & Associates must unfortunately suspend negotiations. Though it is understandable that Pickles Partners Inc. places no higher value on the delicates of Daniel Morris & Associates than that of an indiscriminate paperclip, it must be understood that Daniel Morris & Associates holds said delicates in much higher esteem, early and often as the case may be. In all candor, they are presently being held. In high esteem.

- Dan Morris
Marketing and Advertising Sales Coordinator

Crucible Connections - Magical Super Jesus

2008-12-26T05:00:00.000-08:00

Crucible Connections is an ongoing series featuring real conversations shared over work e-mail...

Quite possibly the email that solidified my place in my boss's shit bowl at the magazine.

From: Dan Morris
Sent: Friday, May 05, 2006 8:41 AM
To: M-Town Mikey ; Bobby Fair Housing
Subject: Yech

Out of habit, I just grabbed my coffee mug and took a slug…of watery, flat orange soda I didn’t finish before I left work yesterday.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Friday, May 05, 2006 8:48 AM
To: Dan Morris; Bobby Fair Housing
Subject: RE: Yech

You might say ‘yech,’ but you mean ‘yuck.’

-M-Town Mikey
Copywriter

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Friday, May 05, 2006 8:53 AM
To: M-Town Mikey; Bobby Fair Housing
Subject: RE: Yech

No, I’m feeling Yiddish today.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Friday, May 05, 2006 8:59 AM
To: Dan Morris; Bobby Fair Housing
Subject: RE: Yech

You should go to your boss and throw the orange soda at him and say “I can’t work under these conditions! I’m just a man, like other men! I’m not some kind of magical super Jesus!” and when he gets mad at you for throwing the orange soda at him you say “Don’t be unreasonable!” and then you start singing a spiritual and when you get to the ‘Let My People Go’ part you shake your jazz hands, and when you get fired you say ‘You can’t fire me!’ and while everyone is waiting for you to say ‘I quit!’ you take out a giant electromagnet and run around the office and erase all the hard drives.

-M-Town Mikey
Copywriter

Crucible Connections - Indian Food Backfire

2008-12-23T05:00:00.000-08:00

Crucible Connections is an ongoing series featuring real conversations shared over work e-mail...

A standard lunch invitation for Dan. Nevermind that none of the people on the invite list worked within fifty miles of me.

-----Original Message-----
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Wednesday, May 03, 2006 8:46 AM
To: Bobby Fair Housing ; M-Town Mikey; S. Utahraptor
Subject: Re: Lunch?

Hey, you guys wanna do lunch today? There's a killer Indian place by my office that does a lunch buffet for $8 including drinks! They've got killer Lamb Vindaloo. And they weren't offended when I did the lightbulb twisting dance last time I was there.

So who's in?
-Dan

-----Original Message-----
From: Bobby Fair Housing
Sent: Wednesday, May 03, 2006 8:46 AM
To: Dan Morris; M-Town Mikey; S. Utahraptor
Subject: Re: Lunch?

Uh, I can't I already have plans to go to the harbor with Heidi and Juan. Sorry about that.

-Bobby Fair Housing
Case Manager

-----Original Message-----
From: M-Town Mikey
Sent: Wednesday, May 03, 2006 8:48:26 AM
To: Dan Morris; Bobby Fair Housing ; S. Utahraptor
Subject: Re: Lunch?

Actually, Indian food always makes me feel better. Indian weddings are even better.

-M-Town Mikey
Copywriter

-----Original Message-----
From: Bobby Fair Housing
Sent: Wednesday, May 03, 2006 9:13 AM
To: Dan Morris; M-Town Mikey; S. Utahraptor
Subject: Re: Lunch?

Look dude not to sound mean but I always have this argument with people. I will eat most anything, but Indian food does not work well for me. There are a few things I enjoy, but typically I don't care for curry and I like larger chunks of food. People always say "come have Indian food with me I know what to get," so to be nice I go with them and have to fake enjoyment to get them to shut up.

-Bobby Fair Housing
Case Manager

-----Original Message-----
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Wednesday, May 03, 2006 10:00 AM
To: Bobby Fair Housing ; M-Town Mikey; S. Utahraptor
Subject: Re: Lunch?

Whoa, man. Just calm down. You're shouting. Would you like some mint-jasmine tea?

There, that's better. Calms those jangled nerves, doesn't it? Breathe the aromas, mmmmmmm, soothing, no?

Now take a deep breath, and now breathe out. And come to the realization that I've slipped opiates into your tea, with a sidecar of raw ether.

So content, yes you are. And the sasquatch has such nimble hands that massage your scalp juuusssst riiiight. And the Tuvans, they’ve just begun to sing Redemption Song, and the chords of their baritone throat singing bounce back and forth in between your temples, tickling the sulci and gyri of your brain like ten million tiny little fingers.

Feel the flow, feel your past and future collide in every instant. The carpet is moving, but slowly. Relax, let it take you to the curling fields. Take your broom, dust the ice in a leisurely fashion. Sasquatch will throw the iron.

Take another sip of tea. Grasp this moment and forgive my indiscretion. And then tango with the Tuvans, they know how to dance, man!

-----Original Message-----
From: Bobby Fair Housing
Sent: Wednesday, May 03, 2006 10:12 AM
To: Dan Morris; M-Town Mikey; S. Utahraptor
Subject: Re: Lunch?

...I don't like Indian food, OK?

-Bobby Fair Housing
Case Manager

Crucible Connections - Meatcake

2008-12-22T07:32:00.000-08:00

In the past, and I stress in the past (because people I work with now read this blog), my friends and I have treated Outlook more like an instant messaging application. Sometimes, our conversations are what make us productive and keep us sane. Typically, the more insane the conversation, the more sanity maintained in the office. At least for me, I can't speak for my friends.

Anyway, I've decided to post a series of real, actual work e-mail exchanges between others and me during my time at a certain magazine which will remain un-named because the editor of said magazine is the kind of prick who would baselessly sue me for rights violations, and I don't have the wherewithal for litigation. So, let's see, I'll call this series "Crucible Connections" for professional reasons.

I will also conspicuously rename certain people, as I have not discussed posting these conversations publicly with them. On to the conversations!

Number one: Meatcake

-----Original Message-----
From: Bobby Fair Housing
Sent: Tuesday, April 04, 2006 11:27 AM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: GRRR

I didn't get the job and now I am sad:(
-Bob

Bobby Fair Housing
Case Manager

-----Original Message-----
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Tuesday, April 04, 2006 11:30 AM
To: Bobby Fair Housing
Subject: RE: GRRR

Oh man. Sorry to hear, man. If you'd like, I could make you a cake.

-----Original Message-----
From: Bobby Fair Housing
Sent: Tuesday, April 04, 2006 11:42 AM
To: Dan Morris
Subject: RE: GRRR

make sure it is a loser cake with a sad face on it.

Bobby Fair Housing
Case Manager

-----Original Message-----
From: Dan Morris
Sent: Tuesday, April 04, 2006 11:57 AM
To: Bobby Fair Housing
Subject: RE: GRRR

How about a meatloaf that looks like a cake with a sad face on it, so you're cheery because you think you're getting sad-face cake, but then you take a bite and find out that it's actually cold meatloaf instead of cake, and then you start crying because you realize that life is nothing but a whole bunch of unexpected and unpleasant surprises, so much so that you end up eating crappy meatloaf when you're expecting cake. And the frosting on the meatloaf isn't even vanilla, it's just congealed grease. And then, while you're still crying, you open up your mail, and after sifting through the bills that will most likely NEVER get paid in full (which really don't even bother you anymore because you're already far too broken as a human being to care), you find a single postcard, with no return address on it, and it just says, "God hates you. And so do His good friends Buddha, Siva, Ganesha, and even His not so good friend Zoroaster." And there are signatures underneath from all of the above, except Zoroaster, that jerk. He just puts a Mr. Yuk face with an X after it. And now, my friend, now you're bawling like a freshly circumcised infant boy. So you take another bite of the meatloaf cake, which you've forgotten is meatloaf, and you get that gooey congealed grease in between your teeth, and you try to drink some soda to wash it down, but the liquid just beads off of your tongue because of all the grease...

And that's when things really start to get ugly, because that cold sore you've been tending to on the bottom right side of your lip cracks and bursts and oozes all over the place, and Ed McMahon rings the doorbell to tell you you've just won a million dollars, but he takes one look at your pathetic visage and makes a brief excuse about coming to the wrong door and how he was actually looking for "32...NORTH Kennedy...NORTH, not SOUTH," but he does hand you a fin and tells you to go buy some Herpecin for that "souvenir" on your lip. Live on Camera, mind you.

So, anyway, point is, have dinner ready for me when I get home. I want roast beef. And get my laundry done while you're at it.

-Dan

1986

2008-12-16T06:39:00.000-08:00

In 1986, I was seven years old, a precocious teacher's pet at St. Pascal's elementary school near Portage Park in Chicago. I'm guessing at seven years old, I would've been in the second or third grade. All of these details are immaterial. What is material is that 1986, for other reasons independant of Dan, was awesome.

Was it the music that made it awesome? Some of the year's top songs:

Walk Like an Egyptian: The Bangles (come on, you know you spent the better part of 1986 walking around like a hieroglyph, at least if you were old enough to be walking around in 1986)

Kiss: Prince & The Revolution (yeah, that's right--the revolution was going strong in 1986)

Rock Me Amadeus: Falco (Rock me fuckin' Amadeus, ok?)

Conga: Miami Sound Machine (Any list that has Miami Sound Machine on it is a list I am a fan of)

Venus: Bananarama (She's got it. And it's not a leg razor.)

Walk This Way: Run-D.M.C. (The original and best rap rock fusion.)

OK, so on the merits of this list of top 100-ish songs of 1986, the year was not all that remarkable. But the world does not begin and end with music. It begins and ends with movies. I'm going to skip over any notable events in 1986, and jump right to the most important, most relevant bit to this discussion. Two movies came out in 1986, movies that benchmark American Cinema: The Golden Child and Big Trouble in Little China. Many things about both films are legendary. But one thing, one woven muslin thread ties the two together in a significant fashion:

Both Victor Wong and James Hong appear in both films. Don't worry; if you don't immediately know who these guys are, a little bit of time on IMDB will refresh your memory. Because these two fine gentleman are to Chinese American cinema what Pat Morita is to Japanese American cinema. Or what Brad Pitt is to white American cinema. These guys are (or were in the case of Vic) hot shit. They've left their glamorous finger prints all over pop culture. For instance, "Seinfeld, four!"

Let's reiterate that simply and clearly. 1986. Victor Wong and James Hong. Starring Roles. Two movies. It's like Hollywood Serendipity. It's like Cary Grant and Rock Hudson playing opposite each other in two films in the same year. And doing it. To each other. Multiple times. That's how important this is. At least to nerds like me.

Yeah, there were other actors in both movies, but really, none of them were all that important. And none of them overlapped, either.

Freakin' 1986. It won't ever get better than that.

P.S.--just for the record, some other notable movies from 1986, which solidify it's place in historical awesomeness:

Top Gun

Platoon

Aliens

Ferris Bueller's Day Off

And just for fun, some stuff that happened in 1986, contributing to awesome memoribility:

January 19 - The first PC virus, Brain, starts to spread.

January 28 - Space Shuttle Challenger disintegrates, killing the crew of 7 astronauts including schoolteacher Christa McAuliffe.

April 21 - Geraldo Rivera opens Al Capone's secret vault on The Mystery of Al Capone's Vault, discovering only a bottle of moonshine.

April 26 - Cher-fuckin-nobyl

May 25 - Hands Across America. Not remembering Hands Across America is like not remembering We Are The World

November 3 - Iran Contra Affair breaks into the news

Nerdly Fact pertaining to 1986:

Grand Theft Auto: Vice City is set in 1986.

The Schytts

2008-12-12T11:24:00.000-08:00

Swedish dance bands of the seventies are awesome. That's why i'm the front man for The Schytts. Seriously, I'm totally The Schytt.

Familiarity and Creepiness

2008-12-12T08:14:00.000-08:00

I have a tendency to approach people in one of two ways upon first meeting them:

A) With an unprecedented level of familiarity, as if I'm greeting an old friend rather than a stranger.
B) Quietly, guarded and damn near standoffish.

It's about fifty-fifty which approach I go with. Option A typically has good results, but also has a strong creep factor. As in, on occasion, the person I'm being introduced to immediately identifies me as a date rapist. Option B results in the impression that I'm either boring or sociopathic, which is great if I'm not feeling sociable.

In any case, Option A is typically my choice in one-on-one encounters or massive parties, while Option B is my choice for small gatherings. So maybe the ratio is closer to seventy-thirty in favor of Option A usage. Whatever. I'm babbling, and you're about to stop reading if you haven't already. Moving on.

Back in "the day" (before I was a recluse disdaining of human contact, and maintained a wardrobe that wasn't publicly shameful), Option A led to some awkward encounters with friends and girlfriends. Id est, I'd go to a party with someone, become the center of attention, and people at the party would ask, "Who's that (girl, dude, livestock, flora, fauna, etc.) who came with Dan?" People who had never before met me, who were friends of the person who brought me as a guest. Keep in mind, Option A is really nothing more than a defense mechanism--it's like disarming an enemy before they know they're an enemy.

I lost lots of friends and girlfriends (well, girls I was dating anyway) that way. By becoming the center of attention, stealing their thunder, whatever. Apparently, that kind of thing doesn't go over. A close friend of mine once stopped hanging out with me for two months because he felt like I was constantly throwing him into my shadow. A girl I was dating stopped talking to me for a week because we drove up to Chicago from Peoria (where I was living at the time) to meet some people she'd befriended on the internet. The whole drive up, I'm asking her what the hell am I supposed to do, how am I supposed to act, who are these people and why are we meeting them again...and then we get there and she introduces herself, I introduce myself, the others introduce themselves, and then silence. So, more out of boredom, I go nuclear with Option A, and before long I'm visiting with these people and m'lady's sitting quietly in the corner. Even when I turn to her to bring her in, she sits and shrugs at most. Then, during the silent car ride back to Peoria, there's a brief tirade about how I'm an attention whore.

I think, actually, that's how I developed Option B. The surly guy in the corner steals no thunder.

Ostensibly, I'm a conceited fuck. The proof is that I just wrote a blog about how once upon a time I was too popular. And I won't deny I'm an attention whore. However, the reality of it is that I was situationally popular. I was "Dan" in the moment, but "that guy" the next morning. And, let's not forget despite my convenient lack of focus on the issue, frequently the creep factor exceeded FDA guidelines for healthy intake.

I think my next post should be about all of the humiliating, degrading things I've done while trying to impress people. Like the time I pierced my ear with a toothpick, or, well, the list is pretty long. I've often confused "laughing with" and "laughing at," let's just settle on that point.

That ought to bring me down a notch. Good lord, this post is nonsense.

The insecure and defenseless

2008-12-09T13:19:00.000-08:00

I'm lazy today, and, well, in general. I don't have much to say, other than very little brings as much joy to my heart as attacking the insecure and defenseless with laserbeam wit. It makes every day more enjoyable; it is the spoonful of sugar that helps life's castor oil go down.

In that vein, Mr. Parry Gripp delivers a joyful chorus to my heart as if sung by the Choir Invisible. I just can't help myself. In one fell swoop, insecure and defenseless are combined and fun is poked, and I can rest peacefully knowing I'm not alone in my need and desire for wanton cruelty. Bless Parry Gripp, and bless Nerf Herder.

Three A.M. and Cranky

2008-12-03T01:30:00.000-08:00

Due to a certain unpleasant and uncomfortable illness this week, it's 3:30 a.m. and I cannot sleep. This is newsworthy because I say so. Am I rationalizing the newsworthiness of my blog? Screw that.

I'm going to, in the classic style of the Internets, make a list of things that are currently pissing me off, in the hopes that it will calm me down and help me sleep. In no particular order other than stream of consciousness:

1) The currently touring Smashing Pumpkins: dude, if when I'm 41 years old, you catch me strutting around a stage wearing a pleather apron and singing songs about my teenage pain and really feeling it, someone should just beat me until I'm dead. Honestly. Not that I'm advocating beating Billy Corgan. I'm not. I just...dude, you're incredibly wealthy, incredibly famous, and pretty damned talented. Mayhaps you get over life's foibles. If not for your own good, then for mine, because Mellon Collie is one of precious few double albums worth a damn, and now when I listen to it, I think of a pathetic man-child crying into a microphone about how tough adolescence is.

2) MRSA: lame. Absolutely lame. I shake my fist at nature.

3) Economics: wouldn't it be cool if even one economic philosophy was true/concrete and absolute? Just one?

4) I'm fat: just pisses me off, that's all.

5) Bam Margera: Actually, he doesn't piss me off all that much. But why the hell does he always talk like he's got a cigar in his mouth or he bit his tongue really badly? Does he have some kind of brain damage or something? I don't get it. Maybe I'm being incredibly insensitive. Whatever.

Bah. That's all I've got. It's four in the morning and I've get better things to do. Like read Trivial Pursuit cards.

In the words of Hiro the Hero, I Did It!

2008-11-29T23:05:00.000-08:00

With a final count of 50,231. F'n a.

Art College Girl

2008-11-21T08:52:00.000-08:00

Every morning, I take the Metra train into the city for work. There's a community of regulars on the train...nobody ever speaks, but there are plenty of nods and smiles. We recognize each other, and are comfortably friendly while maintaining anonymity. There's me, Oddly-shaped-head guy, Baby Man, Bald Cary Grant, Stupid Lady, and Art College Girl.

Art College Girl typically sits in front of me upstairs on the train. Like any (presumably) eighteen or nineteen year old girl, she's bubbly and cute. She's one of few women I haven't automatically had impure thoughts about, because, well, I'm certifiably old, she is not, and sometimes you just want to preserve an image of innocence about a person. Normally, I'm a complete pervert, as you all should know. But not with Art College Girl; I just get on the train, sit down, flash a smile and wave when she walks past, and go to sleep listening to my iPod.

So this morning, I get on the train one stop south of my normal station, because I parked at my parents' house for a whole host of reasons. My usual seat is unoccupied, possibly out of everyone else's respect for routine. I sit down, pop in my ear buds, and boom, out like a light as soon as Three Little Birds hits my timpanae.

When the train pulls into Union Station, everyone starts getting up and queuing to get off the train as fast as possible, but per normal, I wait until the train has stopped moving because I'm a clumsy fat ass and know better. Art College Girl gets up, gathers her things, turns around, sees me and smiles as she walks past. I turn my head back towards the window and close my eyes for thirty seconds more sleep, and suddenly someone's patting me on the chest. I turn and look back, and it's Art College Girl.

She looks down at me, and strokes her chin, asks me, "Did you shave?" I had shaved, because two nights ago I ate soup, and had a moment of pure fatigue at having to shampoo my face every time I imbibed any spoon-ladeled liquid. For the first time in years, my face is completely shorn of whiskers. I nodded, "Yeah," and she smiled an eighteen-year-old smile, patted me on the shoulder and said, "You look good," with an approving nod. "Thanks," I said, mostly stunned at the first and potentially last conversation I'll ever have with this person.

So, the up and down of it, thank you Art College Girl, for giving an old dude something to feel good about first thing on a Friday morning. It was a sweet thing to do. And no, I'm totally not sexing you up in my mind now, and won't be. Sorry if that disappoints my readers.

National Novel Writing Month

2008-11-18T06:55:00.000-08:00

This is why I haven't been posting, and have kinda dropped off the face of the earth:

Apparently, I'm tough when it comes to fighting 5 year olds

2008-11-11T08:42:00.000-08:00

Hope and Change

2008-11-06T09:49:00.001-08:00

One of my coworkers made a comment yesterday that stuck with me. It actually brought something up that became so pervasive in (nearly) eight years’ time that it rarely occurred to me; something that changed so thoroughly since 2001 that it’s transparent anymore (or at least was transparent until Tuesday). What he said was this: “Yes, there are a lot of conservative Americans. Possibly a majority. But the bigger factor was fear. People have been afraid of the government, and they had an opportunity reverse that,” and though it’s a simple point, it is very true. As a society, we shifted from apathy—especially our generation (X or Y, depending)—directly into fear. At first, we feared the terrorists. The Bush administration used that fear to great effect, manipulating it to consolidate power and justify imperialism. They’ve used fear virtually every day for the past 2700 or so days (since September 12, 2001), to “protect” our freedoms by systematically taking them away. Fear has been used to distract the people in this country from the macabre realities of the administration’s aims and actions.

For example, a point of pride in the history of the United States—that this is the land of opportunity, anyone can come here to make a better life—has been perverted by fear mongering against the defenseless target of immigrants. “Illegal” and “Immigrant” are now synonymous, and the people who have come here with hopes and dreams and ambitions, people who with their work not only improve themselves but improve the United States through their contributions, are attacked in words and in actions. Yes, we have to acknowledge that illegal immigration exists and is a problem, but we need not fear it. We have been browbeaten to fear everything that is not “American,” and to fear is to loathe. Furthermore, “American” has been defined as conservative jingoism and evangelical capitalism—make no mistake, not evangelical democracy.

Perhaps I’m being mawkish, but the beauty I see in the election of Barack Obama is that he did not run on a platform of anger or resentment, or revolution. He ran on two words—“Hope” and “Change.” People voted, in record numbers, for hope and change. The overwhelming, transparent fear that gripped Americans was broken by such simple, peaceful concepts. It seems precious and even trite, almost a fairy tale ending.

Will Barack Obama catalyze change in the way the American majority has demanded it? In one way, he already has. Something huge and completely unprecedented happened on Tuesday; someone of color, of the minority, was elected by the majority. This has not happened anywhere else in the modern western world, and is a testament that the United States is as dynamic as it can be static, as progressive as it can be conservative, as compassionate as it is individualistic. The real fairy tale is if he continues, and if unity prevails as a result. He has the potential to be the impetus; it is the people who will become the change. God willing, to borrow from Obama’s campaign, yes we can.

Baghdad

2008-11-05T13:22:00.001-08:00

George W. Bush, Donald Rumsfeld, Tommy Franks, Dick Cheney, and whomever else you'd like to name invaded Iraq and Bombed Baghdad with the intent of creating a "Shock and Awe" scenario to bring Saddam Hussein's Republican Guard to their knees. In response to the shock and awe, the world shrugged.

Real shock and awe occurred last night, without a single bomb dropped or bullet fired. The United States of America elected Barack Obama, and the rest of the world has paused. Perhaps Americans are no longer afraid of their government. Perhaps we're no longer unwilling and unable to emulate the "United" portion of the States of America.

Shock and awe. For now, at least, our country, the world, is in shock and awe. That is an achievement.

Like Napoleon, short and angry

2008-11-04T07:30:00.001-08:00

Taxes? Really? Your big issue is taxes, America? You're upset that you may have to pay more taxes? That's your big issue in this election, is it?

Nevermind that we're fighting two foreign wars with no end in sight (and please point out to me any other time in U.S. history that taxes were lowered in time of war), our economy is at a holding point just north of the vortex in the toilet bowl, our health care system is broken, all of our futures are mortgaged to the national debt, and the past seven and a half years have seen the admitted and implicit abrogation of constitutional civil rights (i.e. phone taps, limitation of due process...). More important is that you don't want your taxes to go up.

Taxes. Seriously. All you patriots, Americans, don't want to pay more taxes. Don't want to drop one more single penny towards supporting the troops you send to fight the wars, or to cover their medical bills when they come home torn and broken. Not a thin dime to help the government (which is supposed to be of the people, by the people, and for the people...we've always had a problem recognizing the responsibilities in the "of" and "by" portions, haven't we) work towards doing anything close to maintenance on the broken economy. Or a few fins towards guiding health care toward stability and sustainability. And, indeed, lets ignore the issue of the national debt completely, because it's downright un-American to not be in debt, right?

Nope, no sir. Not one more dollar out of your pockets. Because American Patriotism is actually just Rugged Individualism--stay the fuck outta my way, I'll take care of me and you take care of you. Funny thing is, that's not how reality works. True patriots are willing to stand together, to support one another until everyone is standing on their feet, and if need be, eat a shit sandwich or two for the good of the country, their countrymen, and society in general.

To paraphrase myself from a previous entry, because I'm just the kind of arrogant prick who does that sort of thing, we can stand united as a country to find a way to fix our problems, which are legion, or continue down the rugged individualist path towards collapse and failure.

And we can bicker about taxes. Like assholes.

A Message From Sarah Palin

2008-10-10T12:45:00.000-07:00

The following is a satirical, fictional letter not actually written by Alaska Governor Sarah Palin.

Dear American Voter,

My name is Sarah Palin, governor of Alaska and candidate for Vice President of this grand and honorable land I Like to call America. I’m writing this letter to you as an opportunity for you to get to know me and what I stand for. Some might say I’m a maverick because I want to break through “the issues” and let you, Joe Six Pack and Jane Hockeymom, find out about me as a person, not a politician. You might notice as you read that several words are hyperlinked (I had to look that up, too *wink*), and I encourage you to click on them, because the internets never lie.

This land—America—is just the bee’s knees. I’d say “The United States of America,” but that wouldn’t give credit to Mexico and Canada, which really are like states 51 and 52. Anywho, If there’s one thing I support and know about, it’s patriotic energy self-sufficiency. In fact, I’ve been working with our Canadian neighbors to build The Pipeline of Patriotism, bringing some of that Alaska Downhome American Heartland vibe right through the pristine Yukon and British Columbian wilderness. I’m sure if there’s one thing those Canadians could use, it’s a good healthy dose of that can-do American attitude. Since the time of our Founding Fathers, this great land of ours has followed a righteous path, and I certainly won’t stand in the way of our destiny.

What is that destiny? Well, We’re the hardest working people in the world, as I’m sure you and Jane can attest to (*wink*)! And to take care of you guys, the fine workers of this country, John McCain and I are going to lower taxes to stimulate job growth. How does lowering taxes stimulate jobs? It just does, silly! What I love about my core—Americans—Joe Six Pack and Jane Hockeymom—is that they don’t ask questions.

I think there’s probably a whole other continent called America…but that’s not the America I’m talking about.

Well, ta-ta for now. Can’t wait to chat again—from the Oval Office!

Yours truly,
-Sarah Palin
Not really. Again: satirical, fictional, not actually written by Sarah Palin.

Laziness

2008-10-07T08:36:00.000-07:00

I feel horrible that I haven't written anything here in over a month. Also, I feel horrible that I haven't drawn a new Benny since freakin' May.

I'm just sooooooo lazy.

George Carlin's Final Interview

2008-09-03T08:27:00.000-07:00

So I'm reading George Carlin's final interview (by Jay Dixit for Psychology Today) and I caught a few excerpts that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up a little bit. You know, when you identify with a statement so completely that it almost ruptures your sense of individuality?

Here they are:

"Abraham Maslow said the fully realized man does not identify with the local group. When I saw that, it rang another bell. I thought: bingo! I do not identify with the local group, I do not feel a part of it. I really have never felt like a participant, I've always felt like an observer. Always. I only identified this in retrospect, way after the fact, that I have been on the outside, and I don't like being on the inside. I don't like being in their world. I've never felt comfortable there; I don't belong to that. So, when he says the "local group," I take that as meaning a lot of things: the local social clubs or fraternal orders, or lodges or associations or clubs of any kind, things where you sacrifice your individual identity for the sake of a group, for the sake of the group mind. I've always felt different and outside..."

"...I don't really feel like a member of the human race, to tell you the truth. I know I am, but I really don't. All the definitions are there, but I don't really feel a part of it. I think I have found a detached point of view, an ideal emotional detachment from the American experience and culture and the human experience and culture and human choices.

I'm not an angry person, just very disappointed and contemptuous of my fellow humans' choices—and on stage those feelings sometimes are exaggerated for a theatric stage—you're on a stage you have an audience of 2500 or 3000 people: you need to project the feelings, the emotions it's heightened, and people mistake it for a personal anger but it's more dissatisfaction, disappointment and contempt for these things we've settled for."

JD: So let me latch onto that feeling. You're grabbing somebody and you're saying, "Don't you see it?" But if you really don't care about America, then why are you doing it? Why are you on stage? Is it just because you want to express yourself? Do you hope you can influence people in some way?

"You've hit on the contradiction, and it's one I don't understand the resolution to, if there is one...
But yeah, of course I care. Of course I care. My daughter has pinned me on that. She says of course you care, can't you hear it? And I say yeah yeah yeah, but they gotta prove it to me first. Show me you care people and then I'll let some of it out; right now I just want to scold you a little bit. "

Read the whole interview here

Antioch residents’ Mother’s Day festivities bring joy

2008-05-16T07:07:00.000-07:00

Originally published in the May 14 edition of the Antioch Journal
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Antioch residents’ Mother’s Day festivities bring joy

By DAN MORRIS

ANTIOCH – Moms and their families took turns twirling on the Zipper, spinning in the Tea Cup ride and munching on funnel cakes during the annual Mother's Day Carnival in Antioch, which is sponsored by the 885 Civic Club.

Residents were treated to a taste of Coney Island at the corner of Route 83 and Orchard Street in downtown Antioch during the festivities last week.

The atmosphere at the carnival was thick with family fun. Moms, dads and kids darted from rides to games to cotton candy vendors. Smiles, laughter and excitement abounded at every turn.

Becky and Shawn Hiemstra brought their sons Sam and Jacob to the festivities for the boys' first carnival. Both watched as 4-year-old Sam spun through the turns on the Tornado roller coaster, all smiles as his gleeful shouts rang out.

For Becky, motherhood is all about joy.

“I love it,” she said.

Jill and Bob Hughes brought their kids Lauren and Jake to the carnival for the second time. While 4-year-old Jake twirled on the Tea Cups, 1-year-old Lauren anxiously waited her turn in her father's arms.

What's the carnival all about for the Hughes family?

“Rides for the kids,” said Bob, motioning to a grinning Lauren. “She loves it.”

“I'm lucky that I have two really great kids,” said Jill, before heading off with the family to win some prizes at the Bull's Eye game and filling Jake and Lauren up to the brim with corn dogs and elephant's ears.

There was no shortage of variety at the carnival, which offered many rides, including a carousel and Ferris wheel. The event offered something for the casual carnival cruiser as well as the hard-core adrenaline junkie.

Joe LaFleur, Chairman of 885 Civic Club's Carnival Committee, manned the ticket booth as thrill seekers queued up for their favorite rides.

“Every dime that we make goes into the town,” LaFleur said as he doled out tickets.

The carnival is the club's largest fundraiser, providing for four $1,000 scholarships that are given to students at Antioch High School and Lakes High School. It also provides for other charitable initiatives including PADS, Open Arms Food Pantry and the Make-A-Wish Foundation.

Windy City Amusements provided equipment and staff for the event. The company has been involved with the carnival since it's inception more than two decades ago.

The 885 Civic Club was chartered in 1965 as a nonprofit group to raise money and support the Antioch community. It takes its name from the club's original meeting place address: 885 Main Street.

Now, the club meets the first Wednesday of every month in a member's home. Along with the carnival, 885 Civic Club also plans social events throughout the year, such as Halloween parties and picnics.

The next carnival, however, is 12 months away. It is a tradition many Antioch families continue to turn to every Mother's Day.

Librarian Celebrates 20 Years of Service

2008-05-16T06:58:00.000-07:00

Originally published in the May 14 edition of the Lake Villa Journal
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Librarian Celebrates 20 Years of Service

By DAN MORRIS

LAKE VILLA – Lake County was a very different place 20 years ago. Gurnee Mills was nothing more than a few square miles of swamp land, Grand Avenue meandered between corn and soybean fields, and Lake Villa boasted a population of not quite 3,000 people.

Amidst all these changes, one thing remained constant – The circulation desk at the Lake Villa District Library had Cindy McBrady behind it.

“I can’t believe it,” McBrady said of working for two decades at the library. “It all kind of has gelled in the past 20 years.”

McBrady began her career at the library as a circulation clerk on May 9, 1988. Since then, she’s risen through the ranks to become the assistant head of circulation services.

The job came out of a hot tip from her mother-in-law.

“[My mother-in-law] had a friend whose son was coming to apply, and she said, ‘No, no, no. My daughter-in-law would be better for this,’” recounted McBrady. The rest is history.

Before working at the library, McBrady taught as a substitute teacher at Lake Villa Intermediate School (now Palombi School) for a year. She then moved into speech therapy for two years. She then took some time away from the professional world to be a full-time mom.

When she decided to return to work, the opportunity at the library was too good to pass by, she said.

“I worked at the college library; I worked at the high school library. So, when this job came open it was like the perfect fit for me,” McBrady said.

Growing up in Antioch, McBrady was a voracious reader. She would spend hours reading. And she constantly checked out books, she said.

“I’ve always loved the library,” McBrady said. “I’ve always got a book with me.”

During her daily work routine, the veteran librarian manages the interlibrary loan program, administrates databases, and above all, caters to patrons at the circulation counter.

The past 20 years of service provide ample evidence of McBrady’s passion for sharing books, and encouraging children to read. Her manner, though, renders an undeniable enthusiasm for her work.

“I just love working with the kids,” she said when asked about her favorite part of the job.

For many, two decades mark the denouement in the story of their career. McBrady is still working up to her climax.

Instead of focusing on years past, or fading into retirement, she’s still taking things one day at a time.

In terms of what’s next, the librarian replies she’s staying put for the next several years, aside from next Saturday, when she’s picking up her daughter from graduation ceremonies in Madison, Wis.

Since 1988, many things came and went – Seinfeld, VCRs and the fall of the Soviet Union to name a few. Unwavering, McBrady still stands ready, book in hand, for the families of Lake Villa.

Library hosts The Day of the Children

2008-05-07T08:48:00.000-07:00

This one was on the Front Page of the May 7 Round Lake Journal. Front page, baby!
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Library hosts The Day of the Children to promote literacy

By DAN MORRIS

ROUND LAKE – More than 30 families gathered at the Round Lake Area Public Library on April 27 to participate in El Día de los Niños (also referred to as Día), which means The Day of the Children, a national celebration to promote literacy.

Toddlers to 10-year-olds gathered to hear Kay Elmsley Weeden tell stories, and they also sang songs in Spanish and English. The crowd listened to tales of Ferdinando, the bull who preferred sniffing flowers to bullfighting, and sang about elephants balancing on spider webs.

As the children sang and listened, Weeden invited them to become bulls and elephants, stamping the ground and swaying on gossamer. Thirty pendulous pachyderms perched precipitously in the spider’s web, then became a herd of Ferdinandos sniffing forget-me-nots.

Weeden, a professional storyteller for more than 20 years, began her involvement with Día six years ago. Her specialty is presenting bilingual programs in Spanish and English to promote learning multiple languages and foster respect for diversity.

“Día focuses on promoting the culture and heritage of a family,” Weeden said. “Whether Spanish speaking or English speaking, it’s about bringing families together around books.”

The event began with a traditional song called “Un Elefante se Balanceaba” (“A Balancing Elephant”) followed by a classic children’s story, “El Cuento de Ferdinando” (“The Story of Ferdinand”) by Munro Leaf. Weeden then led the children in the song “Flaquita Mosquita” (“Skinny Fly”) and handed out drums, maracas, castanets and tambourines until the room seemed to be full of rather large and loud mosquitoes.

The first Día event took place April 30, 1997. Children’s author Pat Mora learned of the Mexican tradition of celebrating April 30 as The Day of the Children during a radio interview at the University of Arizona in Tucson in March 1996 and wanted to celebrate the event.

According to Mora’s Web site, www.patmora.com/dia/dia_history.htm, the Mexican tradition grew out of the 1925 World Conference for the Wellbeing of Children, which took place in Switzerland.

Mora, along with some faculty members of the University of Arizona and other organizations planned an event to celebrate Día throughout 1996. The inaugural Día took place in Santa Fe, N.M. Events also took place in Arizona and Texas.

Día sprouted from Mora’s passion for literature and writing, as well as her desire to spread “bookjoy” to kids and families throughout the country and across cultural lines.

Since then, Día has expanded across the United States, reaching more communities each year.

“It has grown by leaps and bounds throughout the country,” Weeden said.

Elena Lara and Maggie Rodriguez of the Round Lake Area Public Library organized the local event, which is sanctioned by the American Library Association. The Library hosts several child and family oriented programs, including Día.

“It's about the kids,” Lara said. “[And it's about] getting the parents involved and to read to their children. This is one of the biggest events that promotes that.”

A Game to Remember

2008-04-17T08:44:00.000-07:00

Originally published in the April 17 issue of the Graylsake Journal
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A game to remember

By DAN MORRIS

GRAYSLAKE – In an epic showdown April 12 at Grayslake Central High School, David slew Goliath as the Grayslake Police Department beat the Grayslake Fire Department 64-53 in an annual Basketball Showdown game to benefit the Hero’s Fund.

For the first time in the game’s four-year history, the mighty Grayslake firefighters fell to the city’s police officers, despite having an eight-player advantage.

Breaking out to a quick lead with 10 unanswered points, the Grayslake police officer never lost the lead.

“It’s the first time, but we’ll see about next year,” said Capt. Jon Cokefair of the fire department.

Fun seemed to be had by all, and the atmosphere was one of friendly competition.

Before the game, kids shot baskets with the teams, and plenty of good-natured ribbing went back and forth between players. After tip-off, fans in the stands blew horns, had silly-string fights and cheered.

Signs in the crowd declared, “No. 31 is our block captain!” and “Cokefair For President.”

Master of Ceremonies Greg Koeppen of Medleys In Motion DJ Service provided play-by-play for the game and kept the crowd riled up, calling out raffle winners and occasionally taunting players through the PA system.

Koeppen and Medleys In Motion have been involved with the showdown since its inception.

“My dad was a firefighter, and as a company, Medleys In Motion has always tried to support the community,” Koeppen said. “We’ve been around for 11 years, and the community’s always been good to us, so we like to give back.”

A crowd of more than 200 reached into their pockets, and between admissions, the 50/50 drawing and raffle tickets for prizes donated from several local businesses, more than $2,500 was raised. Grayslake High School Boosters also raised $275 to plant a tree in honor of former firefighter Mike Dertz, who died in 2004 from cancer.

“The first game, four years ago, was dedicated to [Dertz], and we raised money for his kids,” Cokefair said.

The original showdown provided scholarships for their education funds.

Today, the Hero’s Fund goes toward providing scholarships to students from Grayslake Central, Grayslake North and Warren high schools. Money raised at last year’s game was enough to provide five $500 scholarships this year.

Roughly 20 students from each school applied for scholarships, each of whom submitted an essay describing how an emergency-services professional has influenced them.

In a ceremony at half time, Cokefair awarded this year’s recipients with their certificates. The recipients were Andrew Trahan and Sarah Wimmer (Grayslake North), Chelsea Dertz and Chelsey Wagner (Grayslake Central) and Rebecca Lutz (Warren).

This year’s showdown provides scholarships for the class of 2009. Funds beyond the scholarships are donated to families of police officers or firefighters who have suffered catastrophic injuries.

When all was said and done, Cokefair mopped his brow and said, “It’s fun! We enjoy doing it. People come out and have a good time, and we help out some kids.”

It seems a safe bet that next year, Grayslake’s bravest and finest will bring their A game.

Church Comes to Town

2008-04-17T08:35:00.000-07:00

Might as well post here, as I'm not exactly generating any blog-specific content.

Originally printed in the April 17 Grayslake Journal
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Church comes to town

By DAN MORRIS

LIBERTYVILLE – More than 200 Greek Orthodox stewards celebrated the consecration of the new St. Demetrios Greek Orthodox Church in Libertyville Sunday, April 13.

In an official door-opening ceremony, His Eminence Metropolitan Iakovos of Chicago presided with the Rev. Cosmas Halekakis, Presbyter of St. Demetrios. The celebrants performed a brief service in the adjacent Fellowship hall, then led the congregation in a procession to the doors of the new building. Iakovos then performed a traditional door-opening ceremony and led the crowd in for the first liturgy in the new house of worship.

“Christian brothers and sisters, now is the time to open the doors of the new St. Demetrios Church,” Halek-akis said.

The new church represents the culmination of 25 years of planning and organization. St. Demetrios Parish bought the land at 1400 N. O’Plaine Road in Libertyville in 1983 as the congregation outgrew its facilities at North Avenue and Glen Flora in Waukegan.

During the intervening years, the property was used for the annual St. Demetrios Festival, a celebration of Greek culture and the parish’s largest fundraising event.

“Its taken time. Six years ago, we formed the building committee and things really got rolling,” Parish Council treasurer Bob Morris said. “We brought in architects and contractors and broke ground about two years ago.”

Christ Kamages, the architect behind The Monastery of the Theotokos in Dunlap, Calif., and The Cathedral of Panagia in Toronto, Ontario, designed the new building. Topped by a dramatic golden dome and cross rising 75 feet from the ground, the church dominates the landscape and is visible from I-94.

Covering 9,000 square feet, the St. Demetrios sanctuary offers seating for 500. It represents a traditional Byzantine cross-in-square design, reminiscent of the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul. Inside, the walls and dome are white, with ornate wood and gilt fixtures for the altar and sacristy.

St. Demetrios parish was founded in 1929 as the spiritual community for many Greek immigrants who settled in the Waukegan and North Chicago area. The new church is a touchstone occasion for the parish, which spent much of its early history in search of a home.

The Greek community blossomed in the early 20th century, settling around 22nd Avenue in North Chicago. Faith played a major part in their culture, and they would gather in each others’ homes to celebrate holy days and liturgical feasts. The first formal services presided over by a priest began in 1925 and still took place in private homes.

Illinois chartered St. Demetrios on Aug. 7, 1929. The first parish council raised enough funds to buy a small lot, but the consequences of the Great Depression delayed its plans to build. From 1931 to 1943, the parish rented facilities at Ebenezer Congregational church for $20 a month.

In 1942, the congregation raised enough funds to buy the Armory Building on County Street. Renovations were made, and the church was consecrated in 1943.

The community quickly outgrew the old Armory Building, and new land was bought on the corner of Glen Flora and North Avenue in Waukegan in 1957.

Ground was broken for a new building in 1959. On July 4, 1960, the doors to St. Demetrios’ first real home were opened, 35 years after the first Greek Orthodox liturgies took place in living rooms of the area’s original Greek settlers.

Now a thriving congregation of more than 200 families, the community of St. Demetrios continues its 83-year history. And with its spectacular new building officially open, all eyes seem to be on the future.

“St. Demetrios Festival is coming up in July,” said Morris. “And anyone can come.”

Not so short, not so sweet.

2008-01-24T12:53:00.001-08:00

As a child, I was pretty happy. Carefree, for the most part. I can't say the same thing as an adult. My perennial state as an adult in America is one of fatigue. It's a harsh existence we have as individual adults here. Should life be easy? Probably not; I'm more apt to agree with people who say you need to work for your due. But, as someone who's worked hard both mentally and physically to get to a point of earning a slightly above average income, I'd have to say that existence in our economy is still a struggle. And after struggling for real independence for the past eight years, fatigue overwhelms me. Fatigue which is magnified by the knowledge that the struggle is not over, and most likely never will be. The struggle is on so many different fronts, that my paycheck is honestly the least of my concerns.

Let's hasten to the point. I'm tired.

I'm tired of being insured by companies that are not interested in my health or my safety. Companies who spend more time, effort, and money on not insuring me. Companies who we all (those of us who are "lucky" enough to have employer-provided health insurance) pay to cover our health care, yet go out of their way to do the exact opposite of that. Why is it even an option for an insurance company to deny services? As it stands, we're paying for a dice roll, not "insurance."

I'm tired of the "fend for yourself," or "what's mine is mine" attitude so many Americans have. What is so abhorrent about investing in the community as opposed to investing in yourself? Yes, people should work for their due. Yes, people should earn what they have. In terms of luxury. What about necessities? Is our military privatized? Our police and firefighters? I've recently heard the following in discussions about socialized medicine: "Why should I pay for your healthcare? Why should you pay for mine? It's only fair that everyone pays for their own." Anyone objecting to socialized medicine on the basis of that argument needs to do some research; that's how our system works now. You pay into your HMO or PPO, a fund which goes towards covering you and everyone else in your plan. In any case, I'm not advocating socialized medicine; I'm advocating finding a fix to the mess we're in, whatever that may be. We're a nation of individuals divided by our self-interest. We're too concerned with what's mine and not what's ours. A gentle reminder--the motto of our great nation is E Pluribus Unum; Out of Many, One. We can admit we're part of something bigger than ourselves, that we are not whole simply operating as individuals surrounded by other individuals, or we can be united only in collapse and failure.

I'm tired of being afraid. We have a culture of fear. There's so much to be afraid of that I'm afraid to think about it. It's not unlikely that a round of layoffs could land any one of us in the unemployment line. Getting sick, that's terrifying. Even if insured, it'll cost more than expected, and there will be a fight for the coverage. What about inflation? The collapse of the dollar? The ruins of Social Security? Will my generation even be able to afford to retire? Will I be in debt for the rest of my life? Where will the terrorists strike next? Frankly, the current administration and the mainstream media have done a great job of controlling us through fear. We make our decisions in life based on consequences that have been invented to scare us into compliance. What happened to hope? Has it been squashed out of us completely?

I'm tired of everything costing so damn much. Housing, utilities, gas, milk, bread, cigarettes. Inflation is out of control. In constant dollars, wages are going down. People are making less money than five years ago. Not because companies are paying less per se, but because the dollar is almost worthless. We don't have buying power, we exist on credit lines, and are forced into debt to survive. Everyone I personally know carries debt, and not irresponsible debt. Debt to pay for education, housing, survival. It's downright un-American to be financially stable.

I'm tired of not being able to fix any of it. The corporations that control our debt are the same ones that control our law makers. Futility is the word on Capitol Hill, and futility is the attitude of the people. Getting anything done that would in some way hurt industry, or have a perceived negative impact on industry, is impossible.

There's nowhere else--nowhere good--to take this commentary. It's a downward spiral. We need to fix these problems, and not just leave it to Washington to figure out. It's our job, our duty to ourselves to think about this, and unify over our collective hope to survive. If nothing else, we need to unify in objection to the lack of control any one of us has.

Reality Check

2007-12-14T08:07:00.000-08:00

Life in the Real World can be staggering. Not much of college education will apply to living as an adult, especially in that first year after graduation. For those of you nearing graduation, I've compiled a brief guide for your first steps into life as a professional adult. While I can't guarantee any kind of success rate, or even define success, strict adherence to this list can create the patterns by which your future will unfold.

Move into your parents' basement. If they don't have a basement, take the spare room, or make the living room your very own studio apartment. Decorate with posters touting slogans such as, "One tequila, Two tequila, Three tequila, floor!" Spend no energy whatsoever on getting out of the collegiate lifestyle. Keep the floor clean by littering it with a protective three-can-thick layer of empty Pabsts. Host parties that run well into the wee hours of the morning every Tuesday.
Don't look for a job until you've actually graduated. Tell your parents about how much time you're spending applying to want ads and how you just can't get a legitimate interview. When you do get an interview, wow them with your incredibly individualistic thoughts on life, professionalism, career longevity, and goals. Do more talking than your interviewer. Explain in explicit detail your objections to a business or business-casual dress code. Refuse to work anywhere that restricts your individuality through appearance standards.
Settle into a routine of waking up at the crack of noon, smoking two Marlboro cigarettes (with your head out the window, of course, so Mom and Pop won't know...even though they do...), drinking only Starbucks brand coffee, and staring at the computer screen complaining about how few jobs there are out there. Send out thirty generic applications a day on Monster.com. Accept every pyramid scheme as a legitimate opportunity. Never submit a resume on paper, and don't bother with that follow-up nonsense. Only use the internet to search for work. Newspapers are so twentieth century.
Take a job at a lumber yard or Blockbuster Video. These are generalizations; Home Depot, Best Buy, Wal-Mart, etc. are also acceptable. You'll know it's time to take this step when you've been out of school for three months and haven't found a job yet. Another key indicator is that your father will wake you up by stumbling through your beer-can-floor-protection-device (patent pending), shove an ad clipped out of the newspaper under your bleary, beer-bespectacled eyes, and say, "Go get a job." Quit this job after a week, or perhaps a month or two, claiming that it's interfering in your search for a "real job."
Go to a temp agency. Take whatever they can throw at you. Treat these assignments the same way you treated the lumber yard. You want a diverse resume, and the only way to achieve that is to leave as many jobs as possible. Also, temp jobs never turn into full time work.
Don't bother with volunteer or freelance work. The last thing a prospective employer wants to see is initiative taken towards individual endeavors. Furthermore, a sporadic paycheck won't help to develop necessary routines. You need to focus on finding a job; not personal interests. Anything that doesn't count as finding a job counts as personal interests, and your personal interests should never interfere with your professional life.
Apply to grad school. Pay the application fee, take the tests, and get accepted. Then don't go. It would just be a waste of money anyway, and you just spent four whole years becoming an expert on something. What do you need another piece of paper for? Besides, it's better to sit around accruing credit card debt than to take another student loan.
Insist that you're an expert in your field of study. Argue semantics with people who have been professionals for ten, twenty, thirty years, and insult their education and experience as being "old, outdated, and patently wrong." Blather incessantly about "modern approaches" and "innovative techniques." Convince yourself that the five page paper you wrote on ethics in the media qualifies you as a topical authority. Don't read or investigate any new books or material you may find on what you studied; they're irrelevant because you already earned your degree. Commit yourself to your momentary zeitgeist-nothing that will happen over the next five years will change your perspective on anything.

Apply these simple practices liberally. There will be no stopping you on your way up the corporate ladder. Certainly, if these recommendations are followed, by the time you're thirty you'll be President and CEO of your own Fortune 500 establishment. You'll be well beyond a low-level clerical position at a monolithic institution making slightly below the national average per capita income, and free of debt.

Musical Malcontent

2007-12-13T12:13:00.000-08:00

I love music. But I'm not passionate about it. There are people who are perpetual insiders to the music scene, who know who's who and what's what from Captain Beefheart to Alien Ant Farm. I'm not one of those people. I know what I like, I know what I don't like. Red Hot Chili Peppers have been a perpetual favorite of mine, and I can tell you which albums featured Hillel Slovak, John Frusciante, and Dave Navarro, but I'll be damned if I've ever known the drummer's name, or any of the other guitarists for that matter. I can't even say I've ever been curious. My enjoyment of the music stops at hearing the music. Memory typically fails for matters of trivia.

It seems like every five years or so, my musical interests swing dramatically. Throughout junior high and most of high school, it was all about heavy metal, metallica t-shirts, megadeath posters, and wearing military surplus clothes. Then I discovered KMFDM and industrial, and it felt like home. Throughout it all was a skittish interest in punk, but I didn't delve too deep because I couldn't make my round peg fit into the square hole of that particular subculture, and a lot of it just got on my nerves. My bad. Once I got out of college, I revisited the chili peppers and funk and reggae, but was musically empty for a long time. Now, I'm just a listener with eclectic tastes and a huge iPod library of songs I don't listen to frequently. Somehow, this makes me feel like less of a person. It always embarrasses me when I'm in a discussion about music and someone says something like, "It kinda sounds like____, you know" and I don't know. At times like these I do a lot of nodding and smiling, because the alternative is typically disdain. Also, I've learned (and occasionally am still learning) to keep my opinions on music to myself, because people get insulted personally when you don't like the music they like. Saying, "Yeah, they weren't great," or, "They just didn't do it for me," translates directly into, "YOU ARE A SON OF BITCH AND I HOPE YOUR OPTICAL FLUID BOILS UNTIL YOUR EYEBALLS BURST AND THE BOILING FLUID SCORCHES YOUR CHEEKS!" It just doesn't go over, you know?

I've never been able to really get into a "scene" beyond listening to the music and going to shows, either. Some would argue that that's getting into the scene, but I tend to think getting into the scene entails living the lifestyle. Getting tattoos and piercings, saying fuck off to your mom a couple times a week, slamming around the pit at the show, breakin' the law to stick it to the man. This is getting into the scene, and these things generally apply to any particular music-related scene, save maybe Country; Toby Keith clearly loves his mommy and G-Dub. I've never been able to make the leap into a scene. Tattoos freak me out. They make me violently uncomfortable. Just one of those things, there's really no explanation for it, something stuck deep in my subconscious. Piercings...whatever, not a big deal, just completely not for me. The pit scares me. I can't push people around, it makes me feel like a bully. Getting pushed around just makes me mad. And there's always that asshole who keeps pushing you back in when you're trying to get out, so you throw a hook at his jaw and get tossed out of the show. And as far as breakin' the law and stickin' it to the man goes, I've done plenty of that, but never related to music or a subculture.

To be honest, I've never much fit in with any group. Except the nerdiest of the nerds, and that was usually grudgingly. Maybe I just don't like people in general. Or maybe I spend more time analyzing everything in my life than actually doing anything. I've never been able to just go with the flow, as they say.

I confess: I'm a malcontent.

Idols and Disappointment

2006-07-04T08:26:00.000-07:00

It’s easy to get sucked in when one of your idols is standing on a stage fifteen feet away from you spouting the same rhetoric that runs through your mind every time you read a newspaper or watch the news. When your thoughts are coming from his mouth, there’s nothing left but to sit in awe, clap your hands, whistle and shout and cheer.

On Monday, July 3, 2006, Jello Biafra made something of a surprise appearance at the Lakeshore Theater in Chicago . At 7:15 p.m., Biafra walked out on stage in black judicial robes and shiny aviator glasses and performed a piece in which he declared the country to be under martial law. It was an interesting bit, and made very clearly a point of how close we’ve come to exactly that situation under Bush.

He then made a few remarks about the hypocrisy and malevolence behind the Bush administration, and read his Gulf War piece, “Die For Oil, Sucker.” At about twenty-five minutes into the show, still going strong, I was enthralled; sucked in and breathing the fumes coming from Biafra ’s lips, as was everyone else. We were his audience. He never even had to try. After the show was over, I realized, he didn’t.

Three hours passed. Three hours of railing against Bush, thrashing the Corporate Media, exposing Congress as the do-nothing slaves to commerce they may indeed be. An entire Major League Baseball game began and ended while I sat and was pandered to by one of the great leaders of the left.

After three hours of a ceaseless serenade to an audience full of people sharing the exact same views, for many of whom those views were placed by the same chanteur standing on the stage in front of them, we were treated to an intermission, after which there was the promise of more of the same. I think I’d have been less irritated and much less disappointed if there had been a message beyond “Bush is Bad” during that first three hours. But there wasn’t. There was no Breaking News. There was no shifting gestalt. It was a rehash of knowledge and opinions shared by everyone in the room, and we cheered away because an idol stood there and told us we were right.

Intermission ended, and Biafra strode back out on stage to declare that it was time for him to tell us what to do about it. I got excited; the payoff was about to arrive. But for forty more minutes, instead of giving us guidance for our rage, or recommending some kind of action to take or group to join or people to help, we got more anti-Bush sentiment. Then, when the time for the Grand Revelation had finally arrived, the moment for Wisdom to be disbursed amongst us, our directive was “Don’t forget who you are and where you came from.”

This is where my irritation, disappointment, and even anger became a palpable part of the evening. That was the moment I experienced a Grand Revelation all my own, and I suppose I should thank Jello for that.

I had just sat through a microcosm of the liberal/progressive/leftist/what-have-you movement in this country. It’s all buildup and no payoff. Our unifying message is “Hate Bush,” and our unified action is to do nothing. Do nothing but feel strongly that what’s going on is wrong. Do nothing but talk to each other about our shared politics and polemics. We focus on our hate for Bush and his administration, so much so that we lose sight of the fact that the man is done in two years, and it’s the future immediately after those two years which is in the direst of situations. Our triumphal activity is to sit around and complain, stroking our own egos, unwilling to really make our presence known. Unwilling and unable to do anything that might make a change, but willing to say “I told you so” when things really begin to go wrong.

The conservatives are at least capable of deciding what they want and pursuing it. Maybe in that, they deserve the control they have. They may be taking this country farther and farther away from the ideals which I and hopefully many others believe it was founded upon, but the only reason is because they’ve been given free reign to do so, part and parcel, by the inability of the left to stand by their convictions and take action towards achieving anything at all.

I suppose “Don’t forget who you are and where you came from” is a decent place to start, except that it doesn’t mean anything. I’m twenty seven years old, the son of upper-middle class baby boomers who moved to the suburbs in the early nineties. I come from a life of comfort and convenience. This is what I’m supposed to use to shape my world view?

My recommendation would be almost the exact opposite. Read a newspaper. Then read eight more, at least three of which are foreign. Spend some time figuring out who you are and what you stand for, because chances are you haven’t done that yet. Take a look at your idols and who they are and what they do, and reevaluate everything you know about anything. Ask questions, because after taking in all this new information, you should have a few.

Expect more. Don’t just vote; make sure that your representatives are doing what you voted them into office to do. If they’re not, vote them out. Get involved come election time and stay involved afterwards, especially on a local level. Write letters. Get to know your local newspaper people. Volunteer for campaigns you believe in. If you don’t believe in any candidates, run yourself. It’s not about win or lose, it’s about taking some damned initiative, because if you don’t stand up for what you personally believe in, you sure as hell better not expect anyone else to either. No one is going to do anything for you. You will be disappointed in life, it happens, but when you expect less, you get less. Expect more until you get satisfaction, and then keep expecting more.

Expect better. Stop swallowing the same pabulum because you don’t want a different meal. You believe the Bush administration is wrong? You believe things have changed disastrously in this country since 2001? If so, do you really want to sit in a room for four hours to hear someone tell you those things four thousand different ways with no further substance? If your answer to that is yes, my suggestion to you is far graver: stop thinking about anything at all, ever, because there’s just no point. On the other hand, if hearing your own opinion spewed back at you is no longer enough, get angry. Not just angry at Bush, not just angry at the war or the oil companies or Halliburton. Angry that the great leaders of the left aren’t leading anyone to do anything other than Hate Bush. Angry that there’s no plan for the future. Once you’re there, the only thing left to do is lead. Lead your friends, your family, anyone. Stop being static. Change starts with one person.