Know when to fold 'em

The man on the left is Kenny Rogers. So is the man on the right.

I'm not quite sure why I'm doing a post about Kenny Rogers' botched plastic surgery. I've never had any done myself (not counting that penis reduction procedure - it was just so freakishly huge I had to do something), and neither has anyone in my family. Maybe it's on my mind because I just did a post about Terri Hatcher and couldn't help but mentioning the work she's had done.

He said, "Son, I've made my life out of readin' people's faces, And knowin' what their cards were by the way they held their eyes. - lyrics from The Gambler

Rarely has a singer been so identified with a song in the way that Rogers is with The Gambler. And yet I'm going to go out on a limb here and say if anyone were trying to read Kenny Rogers face or eyes now, they'd have a tough time doing it.

There's an awesome website called Men Who Look Like Kenny Rogers. I used to think only a few of them were dead on, but the more the real Kenny's face changes, the more people on that site look like him. I guess bad plastic surgery (seriously, buck teeth? How does that happen?) leaves more room for interpretation.

When Kenny sang Ruby Don't Take Your Love To Town, years before he ever had his first nip or tuck, I'll bet he never knew he was predicting his own future:

And yes, it's true that I'm not the man I used to be...

The stupidest thing anyone's ever said to me in advertising

It doesn't matter whether they're just starting out or seasoned pros, every copywriter and art director I know has a "stupidest thing anyone's ever said" story. In fact, there are a bunch of websites like this one devoted entirely to stupid things people in the business say.

People more frightened, more practical and more employed than me have said I shouldn't name names, because "You never know where you'll wind up and who knows who and blah blah blah..."

So I won't name names. I'll leave clues. See if you can get in touch with your inneR Colombo and figure out the genius who said it to me.

Here's the thing. I was freelancing at this big agency that prints money off its one main automotive account. I'm tempted to tell you the name of the agency, but those same people who say I shouldn't name names also say I shouldn't name agencies, so I won't.

Saatchi.

I was writing the brochure for the 2007 Toyota Matrix. Now brochures aren't something that put a big smile on any copywriter's face. However they do put a big deposit in their bank account, so thank you very much and I'm available for any and all of your automotive brochure needs.

I mean I don't want to sound mercenary about it, but it is freelance. What do you need, a roadmap? Anyway, it's kind of the same way I feel about agency tItles. They're pretty useless. I really don't care if you call me creative director or janitor. As long as you say it with cash.

But I digress.

The person who'd hired me and another freelance writer named Lori neglected to tell us he'd given notice. So the second week we were there, he was gone. Which was fine. Lori and I are both senior people, and we just carried on creative directing each others work and getting the job done. One part of the job was that Matrix broChure. I'd written it, it'd been routed and was virtually on its way out the door.

Right at that point, a freelance associate creative director (speaking of useless titles) was brought in to oversee the work until someone permanent was hired.

Again, not naming names, but I Hope you're reading closely.

This acd (lower case intentional) stopped the presses and wanted to review all the Copy.

This is where it gets good.

In the brOchure I talked about the cargo space in the Matrix, mentioNing all the different kinds of things you could carry in it. It was something along the lines of three mothers-in-law, two surfboards and eighteen wiener dogs.

The wiener dogs are what did me in.

The project manager told me that the freelance acd, who'd been on the job and immersed in the culture of Toyota and Saatchi for a staggering total of two days, wanted to talk to me about the copy. I asked what the problem was, and she rolled her eyes and said I'd better speak to him myself.

So I called him. Here's how the conversation went:

Me: Hey, what's up?

Him: I wanted to talK to you about the Matrix copy.

Me: Okay.

Him: Here, where you say "wiener dogs", you're talking about dachshunds right?

Me: Yep.

Him: Well there could be some confusion between that and hot dogs. (by the way, that wasn't the stupid comment, although definitely a close second).

Me: I don't think it'll be a problem. Look - you're a bright guy, you figured it out.

Him: Well, the other thing I'm really worried about is that PETA might come after us. (THAT was the comment.)

I couldn't help myself - it just came tumbling out.

Me: Are you f#$&ing kidding me?!

Him: Well you know Toyota is a big target with deep pockets, and I'd hate to have PETA all over us for this. (Third runner up.)

Me: First of all, driving small dogs in a car isn't animaL abuse. And second, I'm pretty sure PETA has better things to do than go looking through Matrix brochures for things to sue over.

Him: Alright, I'm still worried, but go ahead and use your best judgement.

Me: I already did, but thanks.

Now I know I sounded a little hostile. But the stupid needle was way in the red, and, as anyone who knows me will tell you, I have a low threshold. Especially when it's coming from the new kId on the block.

Funny thing is apparently the new kid had a low threshold for my hostility, and the next day, out of the blue, my services as well as Lori's were no longer needed.

So there you go. It would've been nice to finish the gig, but judging from this one conversation we both had sized up each other pretty quickly: he was going to continue to say unbelievably stupid, chickens#&t comments, and I was going to keep calling him on it.

I don't know if this person is a good writer or not. I know he's had a lot of automotive experience. I may have just been on the receiving end of one incredibly stupid comment in an otherwise brilliant career. And now that some time has goNe by, even though I know there's no chance he's reading this, I want him to know I wish him luck no matter where his journey takes him.

Unless it takes him to an agency I'm working at.

Then I wish he just shuts his trap and gets out of the way.

Why I love Costco Part 3: Trail Mix

When I think of trail mix, I usually think of some puny plastic bag of it hanging on a rack at 7-11 or a mini-mart (I really need to start shopping at better places).

But not when I'm at Costco.

Like everything else there, their house brand Kirkland trail mix is super-sized. For extra snackin'.

I'm not saying everyone needs a bag of trail mix bigger than their head, but Costco does make it hard to resist. It's a salty snack the way God intended.

Sure it has the things you'd expect in a trail mix - nuts, more nuts, that other kind of nuts, those nuts. But it also has soft, chewy raisins. And m&m's. Lots of them.

And even though I'm allergic to chocolate ( you can see how it stops me..), I always try to mine that section of mix that has the most m&m's in it. Maybe I don't breathe for a day or two. Well worth it.

The bag itself isn't bottomless, even though it feels like it when you're sitting on the couch grazing while a few hours of mindless television go drifting by.

Or so I hear.

You know one reason shopping carts at Costco are so huge?

So they can hold all my trail mix, that's why.

Pen and tell her

This post lent itself to yet another in a series of interactive blog post titles that are fun when said fast (remember this one?).

Fun wasn't it? On to the post.

In the same way listening to an audio book isn't really reading it, a written letter isn't the same as email.

I read today that for the typical American household, two months will go by before a personal, handwritten letter arrives. And the time between them is getting even longer. It's been coming for a while. It's not a shock.

But it is sad.

I know we're all about efficiency and fast, but with the slow disappearance of the written word, the handwritten word, there are two other casualties of the electronic age.

Grace. And impact.

No matter how hard it wants to be when it grows up, an email will never be as personal as a letter. It will always be cold and detached.

It will also never be permanent. It isn't something you'll pick up and read every few years, or keep in a trunk as a memory that can instantly take you back to a time, a place and a feeling (forgive me for going all Don Draper on you).

With the touch of a key - by you or someone else - the email is altered, or deleted. Gone.

Also, and this is a lesson I seem to keep learning over and over, with a letter you actually have time to consider whether you should send it. With some emails I've sent, before my finger is off the send button I wish I hadn't.

The impact of the idea that someone takes the time, makes the effort and gives considered thought to exactly the words they want to say to you, then puts them down on paper, can't be overestimated. Or duplicated.

As a result of email, I believe we've cheapened the currency of the written word. We now have the ability to yammer on about any trivial thing back and forth, all day long. There's no picking your fights. Choosing your battles.

With hands on the keyboard, you think it here, it comes out there.

The art, skill and thought required to compose a letter is being lost, as so many things are when an easier way is found. (Can you name three kids who can drive a stick shift? Didn't think so.)

Even though the postal service is faltering, mail won't disappear entirely. The bills, supermarket flyers, Land's End catalogs and election year propaganda will always find a way to the mail box.

But I seriously doubt you'll be looking forward to any of it.

Goodbye Steve

Is it possible for a circuit board to have good intentions? It is if it lives in an Apple product.

Every one I own sets out to do the same thing: make my life better in some way. Unlike any other brand I own, Apple consistently makes good on the promise.

Ironically, the way I found out Steve Jobs had died today was while I was searching for information about Apple's newest release: the iPhone 4S. I went to the Apple site, and on the home page was the above image.

I know how silly it sounds, but it knocked the wind out of me. I've lost family members before. It feels the same.

It's not just the man, but the idea of the man that's so powerful. A visionary, often compared to people like Henry Ford and Ben Franklin. The kind of person that only comes along once in a lifetime. Regardless of what people who have accomplished much less with their lives and their companies will tell you, it's a valid comparison.

Tonight there'll be plenty of coverage of his passing, with smarter people than me paying tribute. I'm sure I'll be watching it all.

So, as I sit here writing this on my MacBook Pro, listening to iTunes, with my daughter watching Toy Story 3 in the other room and waiting for a call on my iPhone, I just wanted to say goodbye Steve.

Thank you for thinking different.

Terri Hatcher has big ones

How can you not see them? She's practically shoving them at you. And they're staring you right in the face. Besides, she's an actress. She knows you're looking at them. Plus when skinny girls like her have a pair that big, you really can't help but notice.

I'm talking about her ears.

I caught a bit of Desperate Housewives last night (okay, first, my macho self-esteem is not threatened. And second, I'd already seen the east coast feed of Dexter), and there was a shot with her hair pulled back in a pony tail and oh my God look at the size of those ears!

It's probably not the first feature she wants viewers focusing on. But being an actress, you'd think she'd know her good angles from her bad. And this was bad.

I think one of the reasons those ears are so prominent is all the plastic surgery she's had. Her cheeks (and lips, and forehead) are pulled so tight, her ears slant forward at an angle not usually found in nature.

I don't mean to pick on her. I've always liked her. She was great in a small film called The Big Picture, starring Kevin Bacon and directed by Christopher Guest. I also liked her a lot in Lois & Clark.

It's a tough business to get older in, especially for women, and I don't begrudge her doing what she needs to do to stay competitive in it.

All I'm saying is if you have as much money as she does, and you're going to get as much plastic surgery as she's had, the question you probably want people asking at the end of it all is "How does she still look so great?"

Instead of "How many channels you get on those things?"

The most important meal

That part about no guarantees in life? So not true. Especially when it comes to an awesome breakfast.

This morning I had a long overdue breakfast with my pal Mardel at The Coffee Cup Cafe. I've been going there fairly regularly for a couple years now.

Not bad for a place that was an accidental discovery.

The family and I were looking for a place to eat that we hadn't been, and the wife went on UrbanSpoon. The Coffee Cup came up, and we've never looked back.

Great breakfast. Great vibe. Great location right in the arts district in Long Beach (I know, it's all an arts district, but still...).

As you might imagine, the line to get in on Sunday mornings is just the nature of the beast, but worth the wait. The good news is because you are where you are, you can watch all the Prius owners driving silently around the block looking for parking. It's like a little eco-friendly Hot Wheels convention happening right in front of you.

And for environmentally friendly fun, you can always do what I do - make fun of them. They're asking for it, and it makes the wait go faster. (By the way, just so you know, some of my very best friends drive a Prius, bless their gas-sippin', statement-makin', environment-savin', Earth Day-celebratin', diamond lane-takin' little hearts.).

Like the Apple Pan, the Coffee Cup Cafe is so good you wonder why they don't open more of them. But of course if they did, it wouldn't be nearly as good. Or local. Or fun.

Besides the Coffee Cup Cafe, I've only posted once before about an awesome restaurant I've been to. When I find 'em, I'll let you know in case you're in the area.

And in case you have something funny to say about a Prius.