Siegel called it

Back in October, my good friend Rich Siegel, who writes the not-to-be-missed blog Round Seventeen, did something he's never done before. No, he didn't take the account team to a group lunch. He didn't suggest reducing the broadcast budget so he could do more banner ads. And he didn't start complimenting the British planner with the knit cap for his insights.

What he did was post a movie review of the film The Master. It was a scathing, no-holds-barred, flat out attack as only Rich can write on what he thought was a deplorable film, not to mention a monumental waste of time.

Here's the thing I found out this afternoon: he was right.

Now normally I'd say that one should make up their own mind about about a movie. I've seen many movies that weren't well-reviewed - Meet Joe Black, Signs and Unbreakable come to mind - that wound up being very entertaining. In fact some of them have even shown up in my Guilty Pleasures posts, like the Final Destination series.

Since the Oscars - which mark the official end of nights Hollywood honors its own because no one else will - are rapidly approaching, I usually try to see as many of the nominated films as possible. So I decided to fire up my screener of The Master, and give it a go. After all, I'm a big fan of the two leads, Jacquin Phoenix and Phillip Seymour Hoffman.

Sometimes that's enough.

This time it wasn't.

I would've rather been the terrorists being tortured in Zero Dark Thirty, Lincoln being shot in the head, or Django being beaten than to have had the Les Miserables experience of sitting through The Master.

At least I didn't have to leave the house and it didn't cost me anything.

Except two and a half hours I'll never get back.

Park it

The downside of not working is I'm the one who gets to run the errands, which of course cuts into my Ellen and Judge Judy time. Thank you, I'm staying strong.

As I was running them today, they took me to an outdoor mall near my house I've been to a hundred times before. There's a Chipolte, Panda Express and Vons we shop at almost every other day (geez, do we have to feed those kids again?!).

But today, I had to run into Radio Shack (whole other post about that coming) to pick up a battery for the wife's digital kitchen scale. So I parked in a part of the lot I've never parked in, and noticed something I hadn't seen before.

There's a park in the parking lot.

Now, granted, it's not much of a park. With not much of a view. And not much of a sitting area. Still, I don't know how else you'd classify this tiny island in the middle of the lot.

Being the shakedown city this is, I can only imagine this was some sort of contractual obligation between the mall developer and the city. As one of the conditions of approving the mall plans, the developer had to provide a park for nearby residents.

You can almost feel their joy from here.

Anyway, next time I want to get out for a bit, maybe I'll pack a picnic lunch and head over there. I don't think I'll be bothered by all the auto fumes coming at me from all directions.

I'm in advertising. I'm used to working places that like to inhale their own fumes.

The Pope In The Hat

It came by surprise
That cold rainy day
When the Pope said it was time
He was going away

We all sat stunned
As we gasped in surprise
But we knew he meant it
The Pope told no lies

What would people say?
What would they do?
Who will be the new Pope?
Will it be you?

And just as the news was sinking in
Suddenly all of them broke out in a wide, happy grin
One of them said, "Well would you look at that."
Standing at the door was The Pope In The Hat.

He said to us, "Why do you all look like that?"
"Is this what my resignation's begat?"
"I must say I'm surprised by the expressions I've found."
"I'm still the Pope, there should be smiles all around."

"I've been Pope all these years"
"I've served you all very well"
"And when I go I'll take with me"
"Many stories to tell"

Someone in the crowd started to speak
It got so quiet, not a peep, not a squeak
They said, "What of the scandals you leave behind?"
He said, "No one remembers, no one will mind."

The end of the month it will all start again
The process of choosing from some very good men.
They've devoted their lives to faith and belief
And it's their time to shine
And it's my time to leave

He paused for a minute, a small tear in his eye
Trying to think of a gentle way to say his goodbye
He said, "Despite what you may hear walking round this place"
"be brave, remember, stay strong in your faith."

Soon February 28th will come, and in a blink that will be that
He'll be history, The Pope In The Hat

Job search

Every year I find 100 reasons to hate my job. They come in the form of Fortune magazine's annual 100 Best Companies to Work For issue.

A list perennial, the number one company to work for this year was Google, with things like on-site medical, restaurant, masseuses and a slew of other benefits (noticeably absent was senior care for employees over 25).

The other ninety-nine companies have things like a paid week off to do public service work, weekly meetings with the CEO to talk about what's on their minds, and even Segways to ride from one end of the office to the other.

Some companies boast of the longevity of their employees - over 1,000 Mattel employees have been there 15 years or longer. It's a concept alien to most people in advertising, who change jobs more often than Taylor Swift changes boyfriends.

Speaking of advertising, they may have been there but I didn't notice any agencies on the list. Which seems unfair, because many of them seem to meet the flimsy criteria to get on it. For example, Chiat has a basketball court, restaurant, indoor park and pirate parking stickers. Take that Zappos.

Every year when the issue arrives, I always have the same thought: maybe I'll send out a few emails to the companies that look interesting and see if anyone notices. The problem is it's like trying to buy a Prius after gas hits four dollars - everyone wants to do it.

Alright, I don't know if that's the right analogy but you see where I'm going.

The bizarre thing is I've already worked for many of these companies on the agency side. I know I had a list for some of them, but it was a different list. And while they may have earned their place on it, they definitely wouldn't be bragging about it.

Anyway, I'll keep reading and see if I can find the company of my dreams.

Or at the very least one that offers a year-round "Say It With Cash" policy.

Big Yellow Taxi

As you know, every once in a while I get swept away in the music, swaying to the rhythm, tapping my toes and singing along to a song that both transports me to another place and is transformational in its very essence.

Nah, I'm just funnin' ya. I do this when I can't think of something to write.

So, like The Wind, Tracks Of My Tears, Walk Away Renee, Stand By Me and Secret Heart before it, Big Yellow Taxi joins this elite group as today's compare and contrast exercise.

First is the Counting Crows performing a cover version. Always difficult to do a cover of a song that was so big, but I think they acquit themselves admirably.

Then of course, the Joni Mitchell version. As the songwriter, Joni has the advantage coming into the game, but we'll see whether her vocal acrobatics can hold up for the long run. We'll be back after the break.

Oh, sorry. Still thinking about Super Bowl.

What the hell happened to Joe Pesci

You read a lot about how hard it is for women over 40 in Hollywood. And no doubt it is. It's a town and business that eats its young, which explains all the nipping and tucking going on.

But seriously, what the hell happened to Joe Pesci. He's looking like My Grandpa Vinny.

I know the realities and ravages of time, but I simply don't want to think of Pesci looking this old. In my mind's eye, he's still cousin Vinny. Joey in Raging Bull. Tommy in Goodfellas. Nicky in Casino.

I guess the beauty of film is that in a moment captured in time, he'll always be those guys no matter how old he is. And they'll always be as close as Netflix.

Looking at the glass half full - which if you know me is exactly the way I operate - I suppose his age and different look will now open up a range of new parts that wouldn't have been available to him earlier in his career.

Maybe Richard Gere and Tommy Lee Jones can give him some pointers about that.

Still, it's somewhat jarring. We all have different markers for time passing. Kids growing up, friends getting older. For me, one of the strongest is seeing an actor I haven't seen in awhile who's seemingly aged suddenly.

I say suddenly, because it's not as if I'm getting any older. I can't figure it out.

Mob seen

My kids occasionally go away for three-day weekends. I'm never sure exactly where they go - camp, retreat, rehab. Wherever the hell it is, I know I sign the check for it. Usually it's one of them at a time, but this past week the stars aligned just right and they were both gone at the same time, leaving my wife and I to our own devices for three days.

Naturally we took the opportunity to engage in some adult activity that's difficult to do when the kids are around.

We had a non-stop Sopranos-thon.

I don't know how long HBO has been showing reruns of The Sopranos, but I stumbled onto them last week. Monday through Friday afternoons, we record the shows. This weekend we caught up with all of them.

Not sure what season it is, but we're at the part involving Ralphie played by Joe Pantoliano (Joey Pants to his friends). I don't remember every detail from the first time around, but I do remember it doesn't end well for Ralphie. Also Christopher's wife Adriana has just found out that her new best friend is an FBI agent who's been taping her. I don't want to go into to much detail about how she reacts when she finds out, other than to say projectile vomiting is always a nice touch.

It's an absolute pleasure to see the nuance, subtlety, loyalty and savagery of Tony Soprano and family living by their own bent rules while confronting the same problems we all do.

It's "leave the gun, take the cannoli" television at its best.