Knock down, drag out

                                          BEFORE                                                                               AFTER

When my pal Janice MacLeod isn't writing about dating, breaking up or Paris, I'm sure she's thinking about what her next literary effort will be. I hope she follows through on one idea she told me about awhile ago. We were talking about her dad and the subject of carpenters came up since that's what he does. She started telling me some of his stories, and mentioned she wanted to write a book called The Secret Life of Carpenters (© Janice MacLeod). From what I could tell, it was going to be a scary book, not to be read at night or during room additions.

The reason that conversation's on my mind is we're about to get started on a remodel here at the ponderosa. And for several reasons, it scares the living daylights (family blog) out of me.

First, as my pal Rich Siegel will tell you, there are things Jews don't do (I think we all remember what happened to the last Jewish carpenter). Anyway, in my house, construction is one of them. Even if it was, I wouldn't remodel my own house. But at least I'd understand what they were doing and know what was going on.

The other thing is when I talk to people who've been through a remodel, they just give me the look. It's the same look you get when you tell someone you're getting married, or buying a house, or having children. The one that says you're about to go through initiation and find out what the club you're joining is like from the inside.

And from what I can tell, it's not pretty.

The consensus seems to be it all comes down to time and money. And how virtually every remodel takes too much of both.

We've saved a little money, but in conversations with our contractors—who we like a lot and come highly recommended by friends and people we trust—we can already see we're going to blow past whatever budget we had (Note to self: avoid the phrase, "While you're here...).

The job is supposed to run about four months. But we're starting right around Thanksgiving because, really, what better time than the holidays to begin knocking down walls and living without hot water. I'm sure the workers taking weeks off for the holidays won't delay the job. Much.

Another thing is I have a hard time seeing the finish line. I look at the plans and it looks great. But I know from the remodel of my daughter's bathroom going on right now that when we start the big job, all I'll see are open walls, exposed pipes, dust and more dust, wires everywhere, and people I don't know traipsing in and out of what was once my kitchen and hopefully will be again.

The good news is I hear it's like having my wisdom teeth out: I go through it once, and then it's done and I can get on with my life painlessly and carefree.

Except in this case, they take the teeth out through my wallet.

Glad to help

There's a reason I'm showing you the three books you're looking at. And here it is.

Each one of them was written by a very talented friend of mine. And each one of those friends decided to thank or acknowledge me by name in their book.

It's very flattering. Not to mention very inspiring. Unfortunately not inspiring enough to write a book of my own. That's just crazy talk.

Kidding. Okay, they've inspired me to write a book, or at least finish the several I've started or had ideas for. If for no other reason than I'd be able to return the favor and thank them.

If you recall, and why wouldn't you, I actually wrote a post to thank my one time office wife Janice MacLeod for making me the very first thank you in her spectacular book, Paris Letters. You should make a point to read that post, then read Janice's book if you haven't already. After you do your first instinct will be to thank me for the recommendation. I suggest you write a book of your own and thank me there. You know how much I like that.

I've known my good friend (producer, professor, singer, actress, musician) Rona Edwards for over thirty years. She was kind enough to thank me in her book "I Liked It, Didn't Love It" which takes readers through the process, and arms aspiring screenwriters for the labyrinth that is screenplay development.

It's a road she's traveled often and successfully.

I like to think it's my clear understanding of plot and story, my keen insight into what an audience wants and my ability to punch up a script that motivated her to mention me in her book.

Nah, just messin' with ya. I have no idea why she thanked me, other than the fact she's a kind and generous person, as well as one of my oldest (in terms of time) friends.

I've known my friend Josh Weltman for twenty-nine years. We've been partners at agencies we've worked at. And a little known fact is I've flown more with Josh than anyone else thanks to a freelance gig we had at Foote, Cone & Belding in San Francisco for about nine months.

Josh wrote a recently released book called Seducing Strangers: How To Get People To Buy What You're Selling based on his years in the business, and his time as a co-producer on the show Mad Men.

I hadn't seen Josh in quite a while, until we ran into each other at a mutual friend's funeral a couple years ago. So you can imagine my surprise when I saw my name in the acknowledgements in his book.

Given the time that's passed, it was a nice surprise and appreciated kindness on his part.

Of course, you should know now that I've somewhat committed to writing a book of my own, there'll be many more thank you's in it than just the people here. Many of my friends have been encouraging, supportive, critical in the best sense of the word and patient while I've used this blog as an excuse for doing some real writing.

But now that it seems like everyone I know is popping out a book, I guess I'll have to get going on mine.

So thanks for that.

Act fast, and you'll always have Paris

UPDATE: As a rule I don't usually repost pieces here. But today is different than every other day, because today PARIS LETTERS has been selected as a Kindle Daily Deal. It will be featured on the Kindle deal homepage for $2.99 under biographies/memoirs, as well as on Kindle store on all devices. And you can get your copy today just by going here. So (re)read the post, then get the book. You're welcome.

One time I said to my great friend (more on that in a second) Janice MacLeod, "I'm a giver." To which she replied, "Giver? You hardly know her!"

This of course is one of the many reasons I love Janice.

I met Janice when we worked together at the advertising agency Y&R in Orange County. I remember us both complaining about the commute one day, and we came up with a solution. Every morning, she’d have her coffee, then make the slow, excruciating drive from her apartment in Santa Monica to my house in Long Beach. Then we'd hop in my car and fly in the carpool lane from my place to the agency.

And we'd talk about everything.

The problem was we always seemed to have way more things to talk about than time to talk about them. And while I don’t remember each and every subject we covered, I do recall there was a lot of laughing in the car. It was the best part of the work day for me. I’ll assume it was for her. What the hell, she’s not here to say otherwise.

What with all the talking, confiding, gossiping, joking, planning, singing, eye-rolling in meetings and saying the same thing at the same time, Janice quickly became my “office wife.”

It’s a tribute to Janice and the person she is that my real-life wife approved (which is also a tribute to my real-life wife).

There are so many things to admire about Janice it’s hard to know where to start, so I’ll start here – Not only did she think about leaving her job in advertising, a job that was making her profoundly unhappy, to pursue the life she wanted, she actually did it. That new life included traveling the world, unburdened by time or possessions, and leaving herself open to whatever experiences she chose to have along the way. She planned it, figured out how much money she’d need and saved for it.

Dare I say it’s a dream shared by, what’s the word I’m looking for…oh yeah, everyone.

I had dinner with Janice at Joe’s in Venice the night before she left for France. It was a great dinner, one of those “why don’t we do this more often” dinners. Here's one thing I remember from that meal: I don’t want to spill any state secrets, but let's just say her fall from a full vegan diet may have started a little before she fell in love with and married a butcher.

Another thing to admire is she wrote a book about the experience. Paris Letters is the third book Janice has written in the warm, humorous, observational, razor-sharp, inclusive style that is her voice.

She is what I like to call a real writer.

As opposed to myself, who’s still waiting to be found out by the word police.

The book journals her decision, her travels, meeting and falling in love with her now real-life husband Krzystzof, who is a butcher by trade and apparently has invested heavily in the consonant market.

In Paris Letters, there is a Thank You page, and the very first person Janice thanks is me. Shortly after that, she thanks Bruce Springsteen for writing Thunder Road.

Coincidence? I think not.

I haven’t read the entire book yet, but so far the Thank You page is my favorite part.

But if I’m going to be honest with myself – and if you know anything about me you know how rarely that happens – it is I who should be thanking her.

She was the one who encouraged me to start this blog when I told her I have nothing to write about (something that after 472 posts, many people would still agree with). She always says that venom is my best medium, but that’s mostly about the snarkier posts. She is equally supportive of the vast majority of them that are not written in that tone. She is living proof that there is nothing getting in the way of your dreams but yourself - always a good lesson to keep in mind. And she comments on my posts, which of course all bloggers love.

At that dinner the night before she left to travel the world, I told her that if it didn't work out to just say the word and I'd fly over and bring her back. That offer still stands.

Although I'm beyond happy for her knowing that with her new life, the life she's made for herself, the life she wanted, she won't be taking me up on it.

Don't say journey unless you mean it

Not long ago, I wrote a post about the phrase "The new normal." I complained (surprise!) about the extreme overuse of that phrase, as well as a few others.

What I've noticed lately is that a lot of people have adopted yet another phrase to either describe the circumstances they're going through, alleviate the pain those circumstances are causing or just admit without admitting that they've let go of the reins and it's out of their control completely.

"It's a journey."

I remember years ago when Thirtysomething (a truly heinous show) was on. I was talking about it with my friend Josh, and he had a great line. I was saying what a bunch of whiners all the characters on the show were - which they were (ad people, go figure). He said, "What they call problems, our parents used to call life."

I think the same thing applies here. The new agey-ness of the word "journey" is just camouflage for a more colloquial term: "shit happens."

Don't get the wrong idea about this pet peeve of mine. I'm in favor of anything that makes it easier on people to get through tough times. Life gets more and more demanding, bad things happen. And if couching each event as a "journey" helps give you comfort or perspective, then have at it. But it really doesn't apply to everything. Really. It doesn't.

I think when it does apply, it's easy to recognize. For example my close personal friend and one time office wife Janice MacLeod decided to give up her life here, travel the world and start a new life of her own shaping. She eventually moved to Paris, met a butcher from Poland, married him, started a business that makes her happier than advertising ever did or could, and wrote a bestselling book about it.

That my friends is a journey.

Every time I hear someone use the word, it sounds like they're surprised at the "journey" they're on.

It's as if they have a naivety about what can happen in life - a lack of situational awareness about how random the world can actually be sometimes.

As anyone who's been around a few years and experienced a certain measure of life will tell you, the road we're all traveling on is not straight and smooth for anyones journey. Anyone. It never has been.

I suppose that comes as a surprise to some people.

Which always comes as a surprise to me.

No no, thank you

One time I said to my great friend (more on that in a second) Janice MacLeod, "I'm a giver." To which she replied, "Giver? You hardly know her!"

This of course is one of the many reasons I love Janice.

I met Janice when we worked together at the advertising agency Y&R in Orange County. I remember us both complaining about the commute one day, and we came up with a solution. Every morning, she’d have her coffee, then make the slow, excruciating drive from her apartment in Santa Monica to my house in Long Beach. Then we'd hop in my car and fly in the carpool lane from my place to the agency.

And we'd talk about everything.

The problem was we always seemed to have way more things to talk about than time to talk about them. And while I don’t remember each and every subject we covered, I do recall there was a lot of laughing in the car. It was the best part of the work day for me. I’ll assume it was for her. What the hell, she’s not here to say otherwise.

What with all the talking, confiding, gossiping, joking, planning, singing, eye-rolling in meetings and saying the same thing at the same time, Janice quickly became my “office wife.”

It’s a tribute to Janice and the person she is that my real-life wife approved (which is also a tribute to my real-life wife).

There are so many things to admire about Janice it’s hard to know where to start, so I’ll start here – Not only did she think about leaving her job in advertising, a job that was making her profoundly unhappy, to pursue the life she wanted, she actually did it. That new life included traveling the world, unburdened by time or possessions, and leaving herself open to whatever experiences she chose to have along the way. She planned it, figured out how much money she’d need and saved for it.

Dare I say it’s a dream shared by, what’s the word I’m looking for…oh yeah, everyone.

I had dinner with Janice at Joe’s in Venice the night before she left for France. It was a great dinner, one of those “why don’t we do this more often” dinners. Here's one thing I remember from that meal: I don’t want to spill any state secrets, but let's just say her fall from a full vegan diet may have started a little before she fell in love with and married a butcher.

Another thing to admire is she wrote a book about the experience. Paris Letters is the third book Janice has written in the warm, humorous, observational, razor-sharp, inclusive style that is her voice.

She is what I like to call a real writer.

As opposed to myself, who’s still waiting to be found out by the word police.

The book journals her decision, her travels, meeting and falling in love with her now real-life husband Krzystzof, who is a butcher by trade and apparently has invested heavily in the consonant market.

In Paris Letters, there is a Thank You page, and the very first person Janice thanks is me. Shortly after that, she thanks Bruce Springsteen for writing Thunder Road.

Coincidence? I think not.

I haven’t read the entire book yet, but so far the Thank You page is my favorite part.

But if I’m going to be honest with myself – and if you know anything about me you know how rarely that happens – it is I who should be thanking her.

She was the one who encouraged me to start this blog when I told her I have nothing to write about (something that after 472 posts, many people would still agree with). She always says that venom is my best medium, but that’s mostly about the snarkier posts. She is equally supportive of the vast majority of them that are not written in that tone. She is living proof that there is nothing getting in the way of your dreams but yourself - always a good lesson to keep in mind. And she comments on my posts, which of course all bloggers love.

At that dinner the night before she left to travel the world, I told her that if it didn't work out to just say the word and I'd fly over and bring her back. That offer still stands.

Although I'm beyond happy for her knowing that with her new life, the life she's made for herself, the life she wanted, she won't be taking me up on it.