On the list of things I love in the world, right at the top along with air conditioning, the Fastrak lane and good water pressure are naps.
If you've been following this blog for a while—and really, besides the writing is there any reason not to?—you know this isn't the first time I've written about naps. There was this post from back in 2014. But like money and love, naps are the universal language. I'm sure this won't be the last time I write about them.
As you can probably tell by now, I had a stellar nap today. I really had no say in the matter. One minute there I was sitting in the comfy of my favorite reading chair, reading the newest Stephen King book and trying to keep my eyes open (which had nothing to do with the book), and the next my head was hitting the pillow in the bedroom and I was out for two and a half hours.
Clearly, I'm not a power napper. Those little twenty minute catnaps experts keep saying are supposed to energize you? Not so much. They do nothing but make me groggy and unable to think. Which a lot of people think is my natural state.
The good news is after a long nap, I wake up refreshed and ready to tackle what the day has in store for me. Except maybe a good night's sleep. It's the cruel joke of a great nap—I pay for the daytime sleep with no nighttime sleep. I'll be up for hours because another thing my long nap does is take the edge off the sleepy.
Many times at work, I've felt myself start to nod off at my desk. And if I didn't share an office with three other people, I might just turn out the lights, close the door (yes, I have a door) and grab a shorter-than-I'd-like nap.
Right now my agency is undergoing a remodel, you know, to an open office space to make sure no one including me has doors. Don't get me started. Anyway, maybe they'll be forward thinking enough to build out a few nap rooms where people can go recharge during the day. Otherwise, I can just grab a few quick zzzz's the same place I always do.
Every year I recommit to doing a better job with this blog. I don’t know why. It’s not like my nine readers are demanding any more from me in the way of quality. Besides, the truth is you can’t get blood from a stone. And after more than 900 posts, frankly this is as good as it gets.
I know. I’m as disappointed as you are.
Nonetheless, here we are at the start of a new year. Even though I believe most of the world only has seventeen days left as of this writing, I’m still going to recommit to recommitting. You can take that to the bank. Although don’t take it to Wells Fargo. They’ll just make you open additional accounts you don't want or need.
Anyway, I’m giving you my word every year from here on out, I’ll make a point of telling you how much better this blog will be. More consistent with postings. More topical with subjects. More entertaining because, let’s face it, when I want to I can bring the funny. I am recommitting to the idea that I will be prolific in the amount of recommitments I’ll be posting.
But let's not forget who we're dealing with. I'm not going to go crazy and be as prolific as say my pal Rich Siegel over at Round Seventeen. Although the stats for 2015 do not lie, and show that thanks to a deliberate effort on my part, I matched his blog post for post and in fact beat his numbers by a solid eight posts for that year. Although the electoral votes still aren’t in yet.
Don't pay no never mind to the numbers for the other years. It's a painful memory.
Besides, I think if committing is good, then recommitting is better. It reminds me year in and year out of the promise I’ve made, even if I have yet to keep it.
It’s not hard for me to recommit to writing more on here.
For one reason, I’m sure you’ve already recommitted to not reading it.
In theory, Facebook is a good thing. I can find people I've lost touch with, catch up with celebrities and even talk to them if it’s really them posting on their page. I can follow my favorite brands for discounts and special offers, view endless vacation photos, baby pictures, inspirational sayings, favorite musician YouTube clips and German Shepherd pictures (which I personally can’t get enough of) that friends feel compelled to share with the world. It can be a fun, informative, time-killing app if used correctly.
Where it comes undone for me is the preaching, guiltifying, lecturing and cage-match quality bickering some people feel compelled to administer in the course of my Facebook feed.
I stopped getting into Facebook fights a long time ago. In fact, the post I wrote here almost five years ago was the last time I remember really losing any semblance of control, and continuing an online argument for no reason other than to hammer my point home to someone who was never going to hear it.
Oh, wait a minute. There was another time in the recent past I got into it online with a writer/director/voice-over talent/creative director/agency-owner friend I've known over thirty years. I had no idea about his extreme right wing political beliefs, but all it took to find out about them was posting something favorable about Obama and not so flattering about the way he was being treated by the Republican congress. You know, something factual he didn't want to hear.
What can you do. Some people walk around loaded for bear.
Anyway, after a certain number of back and forth posts, there comes a point in any Facebook argument where it becomes less about the topic at hand and more about energy and endurance. It forces me to ask the tough questions, like how bad do you want it kid? Will it all be worth it in the end (if it ever ends)? Am I willing to go the distance?
What I've discovered about myself, when it comes to Facebook fights, is that I am not.
I put up a post today about the general blahs of being back at work after a holiday weekend. To my way of thinking, not very controversial. I’m pretty sure it’s a universal feeling that after a three-day weekend, no one—regardless of what industry they're in—wants to be back at work after enjoying time off. AmIright?
I got some comments agreeing, and a few likes, but I also got a comment that said, “You’re booked. You should be grateful.”
Let’s disassemble that comment, shall we?
First of all, my post was a little joke, based on a universal truth. And by the way, jokes are so much funnier when you have to explain them aren’t they?
Next, does the fact I made a joke about not wanting to be at work exclude me from being grateful to have the gig? I think not.
And while I’m on the subject, I actually don’t need people telling me what to feel and when to feel that way. I don’t accept that from strangers, I didn't accept it from my high school girlfriend and I’m certainly not going to take it from friends (well, Facebook friends, not real life friends).
I’m not saying people shouldn’t put up how they feel about things. It's a free country, free speech, your right and all that. And I recognize that by posting anything, and being a part of the Facebook community, I leave myself open to whatever comments anyone with a keyboard and access to my feed wants to make.
But, like in a nice restaurant, 90% of the game is presentation. It'd be better—and, even though it might not sway me, it'd probably make me more receptive to hear their point of view—if people commenting on my posts framed it in a way that expressed their opinion without condemning me for not sharing it.
And by the way, this idea I should or shouldn't do or feel a certain way just doesn't fly. Not a big fan of the word "should"—people "should" know better than to use it with that hand-on-hip, reprimanding, wagging-your-finger tone.
To me, it's just as frustrating and insulting as people who ask you to copy and repost what they’ve posted for one hour to prove to them you’re against cancer, bullying, parting your hair on the right or whatever. I’ve written here about how I feel about those people (“What do you mean ‘those people’” “What do you mean ‘Those people’?” - see below). How much validation does one individual need?
Besides, if you're looking for it from Facebook posts, you have bigger issues than whether or not people share your point of view.
I know you all won't agree with me, but if you do copy and paste this post on your page for one hour.
It seems like a good time to rerun this post I did a little over two years ago. It appears as it did then, except for a minor tweak or two here and there. After all, I don't want to strain myself.
First, I'd like to send my sincere thanks to everyone for all your emails, calls and notes asking why Rotation and Balance hasn't had any new posts for a few weeks. All of us here at RNB International Headquarters have been deeply touched by your demonstration of enthusiasm for our blog, and your genuine concern why we haven't been posting more often.
Nah, I'm just funnin' ya. No one gives a crap.
The truth is I could never put up another post, and the impact on your life would be zip. Zilch. Zero. And probably some other "Z" word I'm too lazy to find.
Don't feel bad, as apparently you haven't. I work in advertising - I'm used to it.
You wouldn't think it at first glance, but the product is essentially the same between this blog and advertising. When it's there, and it's clever or engaging on an emotional, humorous or intellectual level, you like seeing it.
But when it's not there you don't miss it at all.
It's a lot like my high school girlfriend that way.
At any rate, we've been undergoing an "organizational restructuring" here at the main office. Our editorial and contributing writer staff has been streamlined for better efficiency, more frequent postings and articles you can relate to that will help you find happiness in being your true self.
Oh, wait, that was the staff over at O. Disregard that.
What we've done here at RNB is fired all the planners wearing knit caps (for a good laugh, see what my pal and Round Seventeen auteur Rich Siegel thinks of knit caps). So hopefully the work should be more frequent and a lot better, even without their unique insights.
Here's hoping you'll (continue to?) enjoy the renewed, reinvigorated, recharged, re-tooled and some other "R" word Rotation and Balance.
I don't think there's anyone who knows me, as much as anyone can know anyone, who'd argue the fact that I've gotten complaining down to an art form. I'm not proud.
Anyway, I thought it'd be good for me and everyone within earshot if I tried developing a different skill. So I'm choosing gratitude.
It's dawned on me, more than once, that in the scheme of things - the big picture - I have it pretty damn good in almost every area of my life. Not as good as some, but I'd be willing to bet better than most. And it's not that I'm ungrateful - quite the opposite in fact. But what I do know is I could make a more frequent habit of practicing gratitude. Maybe turn it into an everyday thing, because everyday, there's something to be grateful for.
It could start every morning. My pal Cameron always says any day above ground is a good day. So waking up each morning seems like a good thing to be grateful for.
I don't work in insurance or the fast food industry. I don't work on an assembly line. Not that there's anything wrong with those jobs. But I'm grateful I have a job that lets me make up stuff and dress like a fifteen-year old everyday.
I could've wound up working with a bunch of stiffs, boring people who make the long days even more excruciating than they already are. Instead, (almost) no matter which agency I'm at, I'm grateful I get to work with some of the funniest, most creative people in any business.
My wife and kids are healthy and love me.
My two dogs are healthy and love me.
My neighbors are healthy.
I'm finding it's doing me good to have an attitude of gratitude, even for the little things.
Finding a parking space when I turn in the lot.
Not having to wait in the slow line at the market.
Walking up to the washer just as it finishes the cycle.
I'm grateful for my friends, who support, encourage and uplift me in all my endeavors and wild schemes. I mean my current friends. I cut the whiners and complainers loose long ago - no time for them. I'm grateful I did that as well.
So that's all I wanted to say. No snarky post, no quippy little end line tonight. I'll wrap it up by saying I'm grateful to everyone who reads this on a regular, semi-regular or occasional basis.
That's it. Now I'm done with this post.
See? I even gave you something to be grateful for.
Late last night I put up a post, which I've been doing fairly regularly these past few weeks.
I was in a hurry to post something before midnight, although I didn't really have anything much to talk about.
I know. When has that stopped me before?
Still, it bothered me. The post was forced, poorly written, and built around an end line more stupid than clever.
I know. When's that stopped me before?
But, as Spinal Tap teaches us, there's a fine line, and I felt like I crossed it. So I did something I rarely do. I took the post down.
Every once in awhile I go back through my posts and reread them. And, without spraining my arm patting myself on the back, some of them are pretty damn good. Funny. Well-written. Insightful. Thought-provoking. Alright, maybe not. But they make good time killers, and that should at least be the price of entry.
Last nights' post was none of these.
So what I'm saying is if you were one of the unfortunate ones who actually read it while it was up, I'd like to apologize.
But if you've followed me on here for any length of time, I think you know what I'm not saying is it won't happen again.
As anyone who blogs will tell you, the challenge is constantly coming up with things to write about. In fact, there are more than a few people who read this blog who would say that I rarely meet the challenge.
Anyway, I don't post every day, but once in awhile I get a rush of confidence and a false sense of my abilities and go on a writing/posting jag. I'm in the middle of one now, which makes it even harder to keep coming up with things to post about. People more prolific than me don't seem to have a problem with it (I'm looking at you Round Seventeen).
All to say today I've hit the blogpost wall. I wrote about it way back in the days of aught '10 (yes, that's the correct spelling of aught - writer, hello?) in a post called Nothing Is Something.
The wall is a moving target, and can be made up of anything from "I don't feel like doing it right now." to "Don't know what to talk about." to "Squirrel!"
Here's the thing: it's Sunday, it's warm out and I'm tired. I didn't get home from the Magic Castle until after 2 a.m Saturday morning, and I just got home from seeing Kingsman: The Secret Service, which was about an hour too long.
But I do recognize the responsibility I have to my five readers, so I apologize for the lack of captivating reading today. I absolutely promise I'll do better tomorrow.
No, my fingers aren't crossed behind my back. Why do you ask?
Seems simple enough. A writer is a person who writes. Just like a drummer is someone who drums. So if you're drumming on your table at Starbucks, waiting for your venti half-caf with an extra shot of cream, does that make you a drummer? No, no it doesn't.
I take a lot of heat from my friends, who I call "real writers" because they are, about the fact I don't post to this blog with any kind of regularity. Clearly they've forgotten that I hold the well-earned title for the least disciplined writer they know. If it's any consolation, and I'm not sure why it should be, it's not the only thing I do without any regularity.
Saving money, buying new clothes, changing the oil in my car, good parenting. It's a long list.
At least when I do manage to have a thought rattling around and write about it, I usually have something to say. Usually being the operative word.
Anyway, I'd like to wrap up this post with some clever, snappy line. But to do that, I'd have to think about it more, and that might jeopardize my least disciplined writer status.
What I might do is take a second to go back over this post and see if there's anything I want to revise.
As I look at it, I think a good place to start would be the part about how I usually have something to say.
I don't expect nor would I want everyone to agree with me on everything. But it does strike me odd when people disagree with me over nothing.
Here's the thing about social media: You have to be willing to suffer the slings and arrows of people who don't like what you're saying, posting or advocating.
Everyone has an opinion. And we know what opinions are like.
Nevertheless, I understand having a forum where everyone sees what you post is the price of admission for being able to post it. I get it.
I've never been thin skinned. After all, I'm in advertising. I have a superhuman tolerance for rejection of things I think are funny.
Plus I'm all over the interwebs with my little musings, things that strike me funny just because they do. Once in awhile they mean something more than face value. But most of the time they don't.
Yet for some reason, some people who should know better (was that a judgement? Sorry, you know how I hate that) make the decision to run their blood pressure up forty points, start calling me names and get all medieval on my ass for posting meaningless things.
Meaningless to me anyway.
The thing about it is, there's no hidden agenda to postings that just strike my funny bone. No political statement being made. Not even a lot to get angry about (another judgement, sorry about that).
But like ghosts, UFOs and truth on FOX News, sometimes people see things that aren't there. They start frothing at the mouth, hurling judgments about me, my work, my humor or my political leanings (BTW, I'm for whichever party likes bacon) based on something I just thought was funny.
They attach meaning where there is none.
Whatever. If you believe you're the arbiter of my taste, capabilities and standards, and if you see some deeper message in the crystals and think you're fighting the good fight by judging my talent, intellect, sensibilities and unloading on me with lots of exclamation points, have at it.
Or even better, be a little discerning, realize it's not worth the effort, say "There he goes again" to yourself, roll your eyes and move on.
It's not that I don't stand by what I post. I do. I stand by it and laugh.
I love my mom. I love my dad. I think sons are the best thing ever. I think daughters are the best thing ever. I think cancer sucks. I'm a great friend. I support the walk. I think dogs have many better qualities than most humans. I think it's a good idea to donate blood.
But I also think I don't have to prove it to you.
Of all the annoying posts on Facebook - and there is no shortage of them - the ones that make me wish my eyes could roll further back are the ones asking me to re-post if I agree.
They're under the guise of a good cause, but the last line is always something aggressively patronizing and challenging like "I know many of my friends won't repost this, but I want to see who will...."
Screw you. Re-post if you agree.
Life is demanding enough without having to prove to you I agree with your cause. And if you think I don't agree with it because I'm not posting, I'm more than fine with that. I've lived through worse.
Plus if you feel you have to "test" me to see if I'll do what you want me to, we're probably not as close friends as you think we are.
Sorry, but you'll just have to trust that I'm a good person, and as a rule love my family and don't wish crippling diseases on anybody.
Besides, if you'd stop testing me to see if I'll re-post, you'd have more time to post things that are actually meaningful.
Like that sunset shot. Or what you had for breakfast.
It's been twelve days since I've posted on here, but I figured that fit right in with the season: twelfth month of the year, twelve days of Christmas. You see where I'm going here.
Now you might be thinking I've simply been too lazy to think of anything worthwhile to write about, but that's not it at all.
Actually I was out shopping for your gift, you know, that thing you told me you wanted way back in summer.
Im not saying that to make you feel bad for thinking I was lazy (but you do don't you? Ha, it worked!)
At any rate it certainly wasn't because I was busy working. In fact, almost everyone who works at an agency wasn't busy working. Every year, the Christmas spirit takes over agencies right after Thanksgiving, kicks in to high gear at Christmas parties in early December and reaches its peak the Friday before Christmas.
That's because while bonuses, flying first class, five-star hotels and expensing lunch has become mostly a thing of the past, one perk of agency life that's still around is the extra paid week off between Christmas and New Year's.
I'd like to report that it's out of the goodness of their hearts these multi-conglomerate global holding companies decide to give employees the week off. But it's more the fact that all the clients are gone for the holidays, nothing gets done or approved anyway and management wants the week off for themselves.
Still - and freelancers appreciate this more than most - a paid week off is a good thing no matter what the reason.
So, while I've had a self-imposed twelve days off from posting already, most likely I'll be giving myself this coming week off in solidarity with my on-staff comrades. In that time, I hope to write down the ideas as they occur, and have plenty of new posts ready for you in the coming year.
Have yourself a Merry Christmas, and a safe and sane New Year.
I was trying to think of something to post, and I started scrolling down my list of already published posts. Sprinkled throughout that list are drafts that I either started and never finished, or finished and never published.
The constant debate in the blogosphere is whether to self-police our posts, or just throw it all out there, consequences be damned. I've done both. But now I tend to be a little more discerning about the posts I publish.
I'd like to think the reason for this is that I've grown and matured as both a writer and blogger, and can see the value of being more selective in my writing.
Nah, I'm just messin' with ya. I just don't want to look like an ass.
Like most bloggers, I've occasionally used this forum to take after people and agencies in a big, bad, vicious kind of way. And I still say every one of them earned it. The problem is just because they've earned it doesn't mean I have to be the one dishing it out to them.
Almost always, having no filter leads you on the road to oblivion with both friends and potential employers (never a good thing for a freelancer).
If a friend of yours is wearing a hideous shirt - Tommy Bahama comes to mind - and you tell them, you've certainly told the truth. But to what end? What have you accomplished by it?
Now, this is not to say that every once in awhile I don't enjoy not only burning a bridge, but spreading dried leaves over it, some kindling wood then dousing it with gasoline and torching it. It can be very rewarding - but only if you're sure you're never coming back across that bridge again.
I've written posts, taken them down, then written apologies for having posted them in the first place. I used to dig my feet in and say, "It's my blog and I'll say what I want."
No doubt about it. Sometimes, more often than I'd care to admit, I'm my own worst enemy.
Fortunately I have friends, good friends, who don't hesitate to roll their eyes, shake their heads and take action to save me from my impulsive ways.
I worked for this creative director at Chiat years ago. The operative words in that sentence are "years ago." And he was a miserable person who made my life and everyone else's he came in contact with miserable. For some reason, this individual was taking up way too much brain space with me yesterday. So I did what I almost always do when that happens.
I wrote a scathing blog post about him that I thought revealed him for the monster he was (today I'm saying "was", because yesterday the thought never occurred to me that he may have changed in the years since we worked together).
But that's not the bad part. The bad part is I posted it.
Within moments, my friend Cameron rode up on his white horse in the form of an email that read, "Wow. This is how you make enemies. And you got a family and a mortgage."
Now if you know anything about me - and why wouldn't you by now - you know that making enemies isn't a particular concern of mine. This wasn't a creative director who held me in high regard anyway, if he held me in any regard at all.
Still, it was a venomous attack on someone who, deserving of it or not, shouldn't have ever been posted. It was me spending way too much time looking backwards instead of forwards.
Two more of my friends, Rich and Rob, also let me know they thought it made me look a lot worse than the person I was writing about. My friend Dale, while he thought it was good that I got it out and down on paper (screen), agreed with them.
So instead of doing what I should've done in the first place, which was not write it, I did the next best thing. I took the post down.
I was yelling at this person and tearing his head off online while criticizing that he used to do the same thing at work. I stooped to his level. Bad move - definitely not proud about it.
Anyway, a big thank you to Cameron, Rich, Rob and Dale for having my back, and good judgement, even if I didn't. Thanks to them I'm coming away from this having learned a valuable lesson.
I joke a lot about being the least disciplined writer you know. The only reason I do this is because I'm the least disciplined writer you know.
My friend Rich, an excellent, prolific writer and blogger in his own right recently reprimanded me for not posting more often to my blog. To which I think, "Hey hey, slow down there Shakespeare, we can't all do four posts a week."
I know he means well, and he's paying me a compliment by wanting to read more of my posts. But the truth is, well, the truth is I'm the least disciplined writer you know. Yet when I'm working at a real job, I always deliver.
That's because all the zeros on those checks sure are pretty. And I've always been a sucker for a check that clears. Don't get me wrong, I don't just do jobs for money. I do them for the love. The love of the money.
So, I'll try harder. I'll start posting more. I'll tear down this wall (Reagan would be so proud) and stop censoring myself. I will post the things I don't think I should post.
I got nothing. And plenty of it. So here's the deal about this almost last-post-of-the-year post.
I wanted to publish one more before my New Year's Eve post (which I've already written). Problem is I don't have anything in particular I want to write about. Every time I hit this wall, an acquaintance of mine tells me to just open a new window, stare at the screen and eventually an idea will pop into my head.
I've been staring at this screen for a while now. You know what I got? I got nothing.
Then I started thinking - staring and waiting for something to write is pretty much what I do for a living. Sure, there's a strategy (such as it is) to start from. There's a subject in place. But when it comes time to actually sit down and write, there I am staring at the screen.
The difference is that when I'm being paid for it, there's always a deadline attached. And I don't get a choice. I have to come up with something. With this blog, there's no deadline. And there's definitely no money.
There's nothing but the challenge and fun of coming up with something.
