I mean, CAN'T WE??
Therefore and forthwith, BC+D wishes a Happy Holiday and a totally brilliant New Year... to you, your loved ones and the exotic animal of your choice.
*platypii?
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Okay, so it's mild in the Tdot and we have no reindeer, llama or platypus* but we can still rock out the year-end Christmas-stylee, can't we?
I rigged up a fishing net and a plastic bag to the the HMS iAyeFloat this morning and paddled off down the river in search of trash. Look what I found!!
That's not the half of it (or the quarter, or an even tinier fraction) I'm afraid.
This was my first time out there, trash collecting and I only scratched the surfacest of surfaces. For one thing, I had to practice my trash-collecting M.O. I bought the fishing net specially for this purpose and it's a matter of paddling up to a piece of garbage, and snagging it without losing the paddle or getting too much mud in the boat or (GROSS!!!) on me.
For another thing, since I have an inflatable boat, I have to be careful about getting too close to shore in some spots, for fear of punctures. But all in all, I'd say it's a pretty good haul for the first time.
It's hard to know how much more I'll be able to do this year as the river freezes over during the winter, but I fully intend to continue with this little project next year.
In the meantime, Happy Thanksgiving to you, Humber River!!
Those of you who know me have heard me complain, repeatedly, about my insane workload over the past year. Those of you who don't, should know that I recently ended a 13 month, full-time contract. Not tragic, I agree, but when you combine that with BC+D's client work, it amounted to 13 months of 12 hour+ days, plus frequent weekends.
I ate, slept, breathed and dreamed graphic design. It played havoc with my shoulders, neck and BMI. Was responsible for me missing numerous opportunities to interact socially with real people. It caused me to miss the rare chance to catch up with a dear friend, who was in town, visiting from out west and contributed to the overall dimming of my intellect - which was never that bright to begin with. Basically... If it didn't involve close-cropping, kerning, dummy text or creep allowance, I didn't have time to think about it.
I'm slowly starting to tackle that whole Body Mass Index issue, though, and on the subject of intellect, I noticed that I've stockpiled quite the reading list over the year. Till now I've only managed - typically out of guilt, to read a couple of paragraphs from any given title, in that vapoury 15 minutes before falling into slumber. Yesterday however, I realized that I finally have time to read again! So here's the list I've put together of books that I plan to tackle over the next few months, in between bouts of cardio and vigorous tv watching:
Iain M. Banks - Transition
Infidel - Ayaan Hirsi Ali
God's Terrorists - Charles Allen
Decision Points - George W. Bush
Zodiac - Robert Graysmith
Griftopia - Matt Taibbi
Bush At War - Bob Woodward
The War Within - Bob Woodward
A Journey - Tony Blair
Obama's Wars - Bob Woodward
Known and Unknown - Donald Rumsfeld
Truman - David McCullough
Oh joy!
So I'm trudging down my apartment building hallway last week, on my way home from another joyous day at work and I spy a hand-written note stuck to my neighbor's door, along with a tasteful faux-stained-glass ornament.
The note is a spidery cursive, penned in blue ink and makes me think of Mrs. Martin, my 4th grade teacher who was as old as the hills 40 years ago, so she's probably not doing too well at all, these days. The thought makes me sad, so I stop to read the note, hoping to learn that Mrs. Martin isn't dead after all, and is now in the habit of leaving reassuring letters to her former students, notifying them of her good health and vigor.
No such luck. The note starts off by saying "STOP Listening at our door" and goes on to detail the various, clever ways they know that you are, in fact, listening at their door. For one, they can see you through the peep-hole, you ninny, and for two, the dog can smell you and hear you.
I got that far in the note and then heard a shuffling sound behind the door and realized that in all likelihood, I myself had now been branded a sneaky door listener, so I withdrew - before reaching the end of the note, which includes a tantalizing bulleted list (see below).
My combination drive-by, side-eye approach to getting it read hasn't worked because the writing is pretty messy, and my attempt to photograph it was also a failure, so I'm going to have to figure out something new. Any ideas?
5. Twitter Marketers: There's nothing wrong with using twitter as part of your comprehensive social media/marketing strategy, but for heaven's sake, try to offer something more to your followers than a sales pitch, m'kay?
Tweeting "STREAM SATELLITE TV FOR EVER FOR JUST $600 A MONTH!!! 24 times a day isn't just a lame marketing strategy, it's as irritating as that obnoxious Aussie who yells about "DOLLARS FOR GOLD", on TV.
4. DM'ing: In the twitterverse, DM stands for Direct Message, not direct mail. DM's are a more private way of communicating with your twitter followers, yes, but nobody wants to have your annoying (and yes, lame) sales pitches DM'd to them right out of the gate.
3. DM'ing [part deux]: Also, I don't want you to DM me, ordering me to become your facebook fan! If I want to find you on facebook, I'll look for you.
2. Speaking of ordering me to do things: Sending me tweets asking me to RT your sales-pitch tweet is so aggravating it should be punishable by law, not to mention a HIGHLY ineffective marketing strategy. I'll decide when/if something is worth RT'ing to my followers, geddit?
1. Celeb wannabes: If you're hoping that I won't notice that you've unfollowed me, the minute I follow you back, you're s-o-l, pal.
Guess what? I didn't join twitter to be your fan and you ain't no celebrity. There are at least a thousand genuine nonreciprocating celebs I'd follow befor...Hell, I'd follow Charlie Sheen before I'd follow your sorry, unfollowing twitass, so get over your bad self and cease and desist with this most heinous of Twitcrimes, foo'!
Over'n'out...for now...
Charlie Sheen sez "I'm tired of pretending like I'm not special. I'm tired of pretending like I'm not bitching a total freaking rock star from Mars", and at first glance, yeah, he sounds like a nutcase but then I thought about it, and realized that I kinda felt the same way about myself.
When it comes right down to it, who hasn't had a moment/day/week/year when they've thought to themselves "I'm too frickin' GOOD for this place/these people"?
So I say, embrace your inner rockstar. Make sure you deliver the goods, then take no guff from no-body and demand the best, from them and yourself. Always.
You've earned it.
ps: I still think Charlie's a dumbass tho.
Just taking a moment, in these very early first moments of 2011 to wish you health, happiness and success in all that you do in the year ahead.
Happy New Year!
Let's make this one count.
I was asked to flesh out my last blog post for a special Alex Chilton tribute, for the show "The Ledge", on Real Punk Radio.
The show airs on Fridays at 9pm Central (10pm Toronto time) and is hosted by Scott Hudson, AKA Paulisded, one cool guy from Sioux Falls, South Dakota.
If the time slot doesn't work for you, you can listen to the show anytime here, but you'll miss the opportunity to chat with Scott (and me!) during the show.
So do what you have to do, but be sure to listen. Scott's pulled together some beautiful material and created a very touching tribute to the great Alex Chilton.
By now the story of how Kevin Smith was yanked off a South West Airlines flight because he was "too fat" has gone mainstream, but like all good stories these days, this one had it's beginnings in the Twitterverse.
Now, I don't follow South West Airlines, OR Kevin Smith, but I happen to follow a couple of people who do, and I can tell you that the story didn't end when South West apologised, in 8 different tweets, a blog post, and a couple of personal phone calls. Nor did it end when Kevin Smith gave interviews and uploaded expletive rants about his experience.
You see, Kevin Smith has upwards of 1 million Twitter followers, who gleefully latched onto the story and ran with it for hours, in an effort to...well, what, exactly?
As Sonny Gill blogged this morning: "We EXPECT, DEMAND, WANT big and small from companies online – but when it comes to us, the consumer, we apparently get a free pass when it comes to RESPECT, UNDERSTANDING and RESPONSIBILITY online."
I'm not saying that Kevin Smith deserved to be humiliated at the hands of an airline, but South West did apologise, many times and in many different ways, for singling him out. I take bigger issue with the social power game that played out by Smith and his 1 million + fans, who continued to badger SWA, long after it was appropriate or even necessary, simply because they could.