The right attitude

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.

Yum Kippur - 2015 edition

Why is this day different from any other day? Because today, I'm going to do something I don't usually do. No, not write a post worth reading. Instead I'm going to post a three-year old post about Yom Kippur. The holiest holiday on the Jewish calendar starts this evening, and yet my feelings about it haven't changed in the last three years. Hence the repeat posting. Like someone once said, "Why do they call it a fast if it goes so slow?" I got nothing. Anyway, enjoy this well-aged, classic holiday post. And when YK is over, eat bubbie, eat.

Quick, how many Jews does it take to blog about Yom Kippur? All of 'em.

Not that the internet needed another blogpost about it, what with this fine post at Round Seventeen, and this swell one at Ad-Aged. But I thought what the hell, I'm just sitting here: I may as well write one. After all, we're not supposed to eat today, but apparently typing is still on the table (see what I did there?).

As I've posted before, I'm not really much of a practicing Jew. I don't know if it's because of four long years of Hebrew school and being bar mitzvah'd, or in spite of it. But as a result, whether I want to be or not, I'm still hard-wired to recognize the holiest day on the Jewish calendar. And because Catholics, despite what they think, have never had the market on guilt cornered, I can't help feeling like I should be more of a participant in the customs and traditions of this day. But here's the thing: for me, actually observing it would be a bit hypocritical. Somewhat akin to all the Jews who, since they're not supposed to drive today, make a proud point of walking all the way to the synagogue.

From the parking lot.

Yom Kippur is the one day we're supposed to reflect on and atone for our sins of the past year. I'm not bragging, but I think we both know it's going to take more than one day.

Besides, there isn't a day that goes by that I'm not constantly thinking about my sins. Since we're supposed to be fasting on this holy day, each year Yom Kippur only serves to narrow down the sin I should be focusing on most.

Gluttony.

Book report

I don't make a lot of money from this blog. And by a lot I mean none.

However being in advertising, it's occurred to me from time to time I probably could break open a few corporate wallets by selling ad space on here. After all, the very desirable demographics of my readership are the same as Disneyland's - 8 to 80. Plus it is the happiest blog on earth, so there's that.

Advertisers would have a direct line to the 11 people who read this blog on a regular basis. I know that may not sound like much, but it's 11 people they wouldn't have otherwise.

Before I go climbing up the corporate ladder asking for money, I probably should have proof of concept: an example of how well advertising might work on this site, and could work for them.

So as a trial run, I'm going to plug my pal Rich Siegel's book, Round Seventeen & 1/2: The Names Have Been Changed to Protect the Inefficient.

The title comes from his popular blog of the same name. In it, Rich covers a diverse variety of topics like advertising, sex, the situation in the middle East, why he sucked at being a creative director and poo. More than one post about poo.

Alright, maybe not exactly the same demographics as Disneyland.

Anyway, I haven't read the book yet. But I had lunch with Rich a couple weeks ago, and I did get to hold a proof copy of it. And I have to say, I was duly impressed. It had everything the great, classic books throughout time have had.

There are pages, lot's of 'em. And on almost every single page, words. Lots of 'em. Like Moby Dick and The Bible, it also has a front cover and a back cover.

What more do you need to know? If you need a good laugh, and really, who of us doesn't, then pick up a copy of his book today. You can order your copy here.

And once you're done with it, if you don't mind I'd like to borrow it. Because, you know, twelve bucks is twelve bucks.

Tired

A lot of people would say it's manipulative of me to post a picture of a cute puppy, who's obviously so tired it can't keep its eyes open.

I agree. It would be if the picture had nothing to do with my post, which fortunately it does.

Because that's how tired (and cute) I feel tonight.

For whatever reason, I haven't slept well the past week. A couple hours at a time at most, up for an hour, then a couple more. That kind of interrupted sleep pattern, together with Friends reruns at 3:30 in the morning takes a toll. And tonight I'm paying it.

So I'm going to do something I haven't done in a very long time ("Put up an interesting post!" I heard that). I'm going to bed early.

I start a new gig tomorrow, and I want to be refreshed and ready to tackle a couple things: the assignments waiting for me, and scoping out new sushi places for lunch. Not necessarily in that order.

Anyway, as this Sunday night winds down - at least for me - let me wish you what I wish for myself: A great nights' sleep, sweet dreams and a cool breeze to carry you away on.

I'll save Scarlett Johansson and the winning lottery ticket for another post.

What's the rumpus?

From the first frames of Blood Simple, I've been a Coen Brothers fan. I've enjoyed everything they've done. I even managed to find a few lines worth hearing in The Ladykillers.

But for now and always, my favorite Coen Brothers film is Miller's Crossing.

For me, it's pitch perfect on every level. The writing in particular is so authentic and of the time, it demands attention to follow exactly what's going on. I like movies where I'm required to be an active participant and not an innocent bystander. I also like movies where I don't know what's coming, or, as Tom Reagan (Gabriel Byrne) would say, what the play is.

On the surface it's a gangster film. But it's really about loyalties, relationships, jealously, consequences, love and sacrifice in the most honorable sense.

Brilliant performances all the way around, it's also the movie that made Gabriel Byrne a star (at least in America), and introduced us to Marcia Gay Harden. Albert Finney is superb as mob boss Leo. The film is also filled with Coen Bros. favorites: Jon Polito is brilliant as usual as rival mob boss Casper. John Turturro gives yet another of his eccentric, memorable, scene-stealing performances (while we're talking about Turturro, have a look at him in Big Lebowski). Steve Buscemi, although not going through a wood-chipper in this one like he did in Fargo, has a short, memorable bit that's pure gold.

If you have an eye for detail, you'll notice an apartment building in the film called the Barton Arms. If you're a Coen Bros. fan, you'll know why that's so cool.

Sadly Miller's Crossing didn't do nearly as well commercially as it deserved to because it had the unlucky honor of being a gangster film released the same year as Goodfellas and Godfather III. For me, of the three, it's the best of its' genre.

In this movie, as one of the characters says, "Up is down, black is white." I say Miller's Crossing is a great film you owe it to yourself to see.

Hepinstall!

I like to think I have a pretty objective assessment of my talent when it comes to writing. Essentially, I'm not bad. In fact most of the time I'm pretty good. And occasionally, I bat one out of the park.

On those days, when I'm feeling pretty good about myself knowing I've said exactly what I wanted to say, I walk with a little spring in my step. A certain joie de vivre if you will, knowing I've strung a few choice words together people will enjoy reading and thinking about.

Those are the days I try not to think about Kathy Hepinstall. Because if I do, then I have to face the cold, bright glare of harsh reality that I can't come close to how very good she is.

Hepinstall is a writer's writer. Reading her words are a joy. I don't know how she manages to make me feel awe and jealousy at the same time, but somehow she pulls it off.

She has the priceless ability to make readers feel deeply, surprise them and then leave them breathless. For a sample of what I'm talking about, have a gander at her latest blogpost Jesus Would Take The Middle Seat.

I like to imagine the words don't come easy to her, and that she struggles with the same angst and durang I do every time she faces a blank page. I'd like to think that. It would bring me enormous misery-loves-company joy. But reading her work, seeing the ease, flow and specificity of the words tells another story.

Kathy's also written four or five novels - I've lost count. My idea of being productive is leaving a note on the door for the UPS guy. Clearly we have different approaches.

If I were half the writer she is, I'd be twice the writer I am.

Which tells me I should start thinking about math teacher as an alternative career choice.

Things I was wrong about: FasTrak

Continuing my wildly popular yet rarely acclaimed series of Things I Was Wrong About, we now add to remote controls, GPS and butt heaters the FasTrak lane on the 110 freeway.

Years ago, I worked at a small (minded) agency in Orange County that had The Toll Roads. The agency is no longer around, but the Toll Roads are. To use them, you need a FasTrak transponder loaded up with cash credits from a credit card. Sensors on the freeway read it as you fly by and deduct the toll automatically.

This was all well and good for private toll roads, but when the city of L.A. decided to try it on the carpool lanes on the Harbor Freeway - 110 to you and me - I was against it.

My thinking was I'm a taxpayer, and damn it those lanes should be mine, dare I say all of ours, free of charge. It was just another instance of the man keeping me down. And by down I mean gridlocked.

But I should've known better to stand, or sit, between the city and a lucrative revenue stream.

It only took one instance of being late to a show at the Music Center because of traffic to get me thinking maybe I should give this FasTrak thing a try.

Here's what I discovered: the carpool lanes, now called Metro Express Lanes, totally rock. More importantly, they roll.

The price is based on time of day and how congested the freeway is. Most of the time, if I have two or more people in the car, there's no charge to use the lane. I set the transponder to one, two or three riders. And to keep me honest, they have cameras to check how many people are actually in my car if there's a dispute.

It's become like anything else I pay for by having money withdrawn automatically - once I bit the bullet, my wallet didn't even feel it.

Plus, with as much business and as many appointments and lunches that I have in L.A., it's paid for itself several times over in time saved.

Sure I feel the hostility from other drivers not in the express lanes, as they just sit with their cars idling, inhaling exhaust and working on their hand gestures.

But as I fly by, blasting E Street Radio and getting where I need to be on time, I'm in sort of a fugue state. I don't even notice them anymore.

I'll say it because it's true: I was wrong about using FasTrak.

If you feel the need for speed, velcro that little sucker to your windshield and get moving.