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The g bomb, for the love of it.

Sitting in a thingy this week, randomly a the cool girls table. The cool girls had one girl there get so bitch slapped I felt for her. Google is getting into her business. And they aren't charging. Just doing it for the love of it. No channel to monetize, just community service. Just for the love. If what you're doing is just for the cash, and not for the love, you may get a rude awakening. Even if it's not a deep pocketed competitor. Unrelated- we've changed our house rules for the board game stratego. Ties go to the defender, because it's more likely that a defender is doing it for the love not the glory. Google is coming. Do you love your segment enough?

My favourite line, about a satchel. Black leather doctors bag.

Feels like ima doctor. People treat you differently when you’re in a suit. People treat you even MORE differently when you’re in a dark suit AND sporting a leather doctors bag. Doors are held open. Crowds part. Is the a doctor in the house? Yes. Yes there is. Relax, this will only hurt a moment.

Three children, two schools.

For what seems like the first time in years, YEARS!, we have Three children, two schools. Rather than three schools. Dunno if we ever had all three in one school, and doubtful that we ever will. But the shedding of that third school is a glorious thing. One less pta, athletic, music, fund raising, teacher meeting and general time suckery. Don't get me wrong, the endless pta, athletic, music, fund raising, teacher meeting time suck is still gonna happen, but more it's only two campuses. So that's a win. Prof.Dr. Dunbar was right about the number of people you can effectively have in ones tribe, and the thinner it's spread the thinner the connection. This is the calm before the storm. Gonna enjoy it, next year we'll be back to our normal abnormal. With three children on three campuses. Touch wood

Jesus at all the channels

So some channels annoy their users to the point of open revolt, like the whole foursquare-swarm fiasco. Others pimp out their users data or worse, manipulate their streams. Like the fb. Rude. Lately been playing more with the photo sharing Instagram and less with the Twitters. Still free tho. Ish. Time ain't. But writing and reflection are great behaviors, without regard to likes or followers. If you've got something to say, or reflect upon.

About that railroad.

It rides upon us. Yeah, it gives some of us the freedom to light out. See the world. Move the fiddly bits. But it rides on our backs as well. It requires land, iron, people. Or talent, capital, technology, and clients. Chrissakes at the clients it requires. Not a Luddite. But the more infrastructure we builds, the more overhead we gots. So today's project interruption was a riff about finally taking our garage back. From a once usable space (best and highest use?) that declined Into a dingo infested weasel pile. Sixteen. Years. That's what it took. Not particularly proud of the gap in service. But glad we've done some things for the better. Equal thirds was my mantra, a metric I pulled outta my ear. But it was pretty damn accurate. 1/3-rubbish. Not even worth giving away, just recycle it. Like grind it up and start again. Rubbish. 1/3-goodwill. Clothes, toys, cribs, tools, et al. useful things for someone. Just not us. Not anymore. 1/3- back home, NEATLY. For use later, sooner the better. Some Christmas decorations that needed a better organization system, re gifts and re purpose crafty things. Some things we've been kinda passively looking for. But not pining for,obvss. We've taken back the space, and two cars now sleep in the two car garage. Feels freeing, getting from under the junk pile. Didn't take all THAT much work, just some working space and some thought. Glad to have our girls inside again.

It'll wait

Doctor of delayed gratification incident. They just got back from their glamorous and exciting off continent yearly summer adventure. ran into exactly one half of their tribe at Costco, the other half is still En route. We offered the pater famalias the opportunity to get rid of his charges, two pre teen girls. We suggested grilled burgers,swim, and a Harry potter movie. Nah, we've got chores to do. BUT, if and only if they get it in gear and finish their assigned tasks.... Then they can come over. And watch movies made from books they've read. Not the other way around. Open question-is the glamorous and exciting off continent yearly summer adventure indicative of some deeper magic? Some deeper understanding of what matters? I think it is. A wisdom. Do the work first. The fun will follow.

Client training. Dog training.

Boarded the dogs for the first time ever this past weekend. Never done it before, and made some mistakes. The best worst mistake I made was signing a thing I fully discounted. The cancellation clause. "Nah, that'll NEVER be me. " What kinda person flakes out on a boarding? I did. And I got an invoice, PLUS a copy of the highlighted and signed cancellation clause. High. Lighted. It was an angry highlighting. Messy and firm of hand, as if he is fed up, FED UP I say, with these golram cancellations. I was pissed when he told me, but more pissed at meself than him. Gonna pay it, I'm dead to rights. And doubt I'll ever cancel agan.

Ffs

Did you get your football schedule promo yet? Closeout and outlet deals await! Your klout score went up! These nuggets, among many others, were awaiting my immediate response this morning in the email channel I'm always disappointed in the email channel. Praps the old admonishment about snail mail holds true here. Gotta send letters to get letters. Or elementary school. Gotta be a friend to have a friend. Wonder what their open rates are? These UN bidden emails. And since delete, or even ignore, are easier than unsubscribe, wonder how many actually get read. How many get the desired calls to action. None. Such a small percentage that if there were a cost even a fraction of a cent each spam email sent, the charade of interruption marketing would implode. It would collapse like the house of cards it is. Interruption. Ignored. well, at least they're trying. Bless their hearts.

No you didn't.

That vapid 'please RT!' That ten thousandth invitation to join your mafia mob, tend your farm, or crush your candy. The request for a LinkedIn recommendation that you copied and pasted to at least a metric shit ton of my mates, and me, about topics I've never discussed with you, procured from you, or even really knew that you did for a living. That contest you needed votes for. Last minute like, but the votes don't matter all that much because there's an essay and video component too. Not that you put that much time, thought, or effort in either of those either. Like your fb page? Follow your automated Twitters feed? Check in on your foursquare? Share your Instagram? Snapchat you shots of what again? Watch your you tube? No. I think you've missed the point of this medium. Bless.

Half way

Sitting between where I'd like to be and looking at where I should be. Looking for a sign. Looking for Nudge. Duty calls. There is plenty of time for want to do.

Yep. It's churchcamp time.

You know how I feel about it, so why beat the horse? Cause I can. It's the jumpstart of the summer at our house. Sugarmouse is entirely too excited, which means her expectations are too high. Mine. Too. Lower yours, you'll be glad ya did. timid kids always have unrealistic expectations.

Calm. Before the storm.

It's scholarship award day. In which the authors middle son may or may not have scored some quan to help defray the looming tuition of his wished for school. Several years ago, the oldest one scored a halvsie scholarship to same school, and it was a major mixed reaction. The other half was still a painful bite, and we ARE paying for the government school anyway. Death and taxes. ~~~Shaky fist!~~~ But we manned up and paid up. Dunno if it was a good investment or not. Yet. Seems to be. Sortakinda. But at seventeen, it's hard to say that anything is actually a good investment. So, as popkinator turns fourteen in the next few days, we gotta decide. Government or private? Without regard to total out of pocket, Izzit money well spent? Related- our private school of choice has a strict 'no free rides' policy. That's prolly a good thing, as everyone has skin in the game, even those of us not quite tall enough to ride their ride. We wait with baited breath for the inevitable. A number. We have a walk away number in our heads, but the slightest daylight and I think we'll throw everything at this caper. Small classes of motivated students surrounded by great instructors. No metal detectors or gangs. Plenty of sex and drugs. But that's America. Kids these days. Touch wood we get good news today.

Right place. Right time. Right sandwich.

It all started with a grilled cheese sandwich and an orange coat. It's funny now, in retrospect. I was boxed in a corner, as we started laying out tables, cutting boards, and griddles. I was at Orange coat, having a beer. And a party was getting started. Rather than get out of the way,I just started making sandwiches. Grilled cheese sandwiches. Artisan bread, quirky cheeses, and some heat. Bam, sandwiches. I don't think there was soup. Just sammys. Was a cold and rainy night. but there, in the corner, back to the wall,I met everyone. Bear, Evan, Jim, Frenchy, muffin, bit, Baron, Dr meg, maxim. Et al. By the time it en, Barry,ded we were standing room only. Elbow to elbow, Sammy to beer. I dunno if I consciously realized the elegance of the room fulla friends engaged in a slow food thingy. But there it was. Something we've tried to replicate, with varying degrees of success, for over five years now.

In which the author eats pie. #pieapalooza

First of all, it's got nothing to do with pie. Yes, there IS pie available. But that's a ruse. A red herring, although red herring would make a lousy pie. It's about third space. Neither home, which most people's first space. Nor work, which is most people's second place. Third. A non threatening, casual feeling, friendly place. Yes we sell stuff and services. Yes, we could certainly make room for one and only one new client. But this caper, like most of our capers, has another aim. Trust. We're not gonna try to trick you. Into eating something nasty like the fake chef did the other day on daytime tv. We're going with the penultimate comfort food. And rather than supplying the buffet, it's collaborative. That's how we work, too. Collaboration. Honesty. Doubt you lot even eat pie, that's how you stay so rail thin. Doubt you need help telling your story, too. We likes both pie and stories. Like a fat kid likes cake. Our pie.

Testing, again.

Blimey. I've broken the internets.

Swim mojo.

Finally got me swim mojo back. It's neither fast nor elegant, yet it feels right. Feels fluid and kinda powerful. Hope to get the bike mojo back soon, but what with the weirdly winteresque weather and cornucopia of good excuses to NOT be on the bike... Well, you know the drill. I wonder what's cooking under the surface. What capers inside of capers are coalescing inside me while I swim. While I think and dream. It's been a long time coming, and it's hard not to regret the time spent in the desert. Away from the water. Away from the dreams. In which the author makes a diff. Where Intimate,authentic,&unexpected trump that vapid crapassery that runs rampant. In our industry. And our planet. It was just a dream? Or a dream of a dream. Knowing what dreams matter is step one. Or splash one. Glad to be making it.

A man wears a hat like THAT?

Walking down the street? He's afraid of nothing. No. Thing. Nada. Zip. Nary a thing in this golram universe. Not the bread and circuses driven media and governments that rule. Not the #kooziemongercorporateassclowndouchecanoecatalogcarpetbombinggladhandhashtagjackingcreepystalkersweatervestguys and charlatans that keep on their endless vapid spew. Not the creditors who really, really want their two dollars. $2. It's not hate that holds us, and binds us to inaction. Or worse, to incorrect action. It's fear. Fear. Not. Ask the hard questions. Don't be a shill. Rinse,repeat.

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