Some people (Jessica) never pick up their damn phones; Other people (Lynda) text while people are talking with them; And yet other people (me) noodle way too much on their iPhones.
If this stuff honks you off as much as it does me, you should probably look at (and vote for) my article on MSNBC, 10 smartphone tips for dumb people.
There, now everyone's happy.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
Oh Snap! My Article
I twooted it, and emailed some of you, but I forgot to mention here on my blog that I had another piece published by MSNBC.com.
This one is about my turbulent relationship with my iPhone. I've already been taken to task over it by people who feel like I'm a sexist who hates autistic kids, so no need to comment further on those points, thanks. (The criticisms were actually helpful. I'm not just being glib here.)
It's over here "jump-linked" on your Internet box.
There may be another piece some time next week which I'll be less feckless about bringing to your attention(s?).
This one is about my turbulent relationship with my iPhone. I've already been taken to task over it by people who feel like I'm a sexist who hates autistic kids, so no need to comment further on those points, thanks. (The criticisms were actually helpful. I'm not just being glib here.)
It's over here "jump-linked" on your Internet box.
There may be another piece some time next week which I'll be less feckless about bringing to your attention(s?).
Digits
I met someone at a bar tonight, and I kind of have a crush.
For this to make sense as a blog post, you have to understand that I'm terrible, like apocalyptically terrible, at picking people up at bars ... or clubs ... or, well let's not varnish a turd, anywhere. I'm awful at it. There are middle-schoolers with more game than yours truly. I'm fine in a relationship, and I'm not awful at meeting or even attracting women, but I'm more of the friend-of-a-friend, someone-you-know-from-a-group, kind of guy. I fail at bars.
That's a large part of why I met this woman through the happy expedient of finding my friend talking to her and her buddy when I returned from buying said friend and myself drinks at the bar of a hip D.C. establishment. She'd struck up a conversation with two women standing nearby and was engaged in a lively conversation. I was in awe. Surely it's not that easy. What does one open with? That's not even the set-up for a joke. I suck at this.
No joke, I'm congenitally awful at this game and lack any sort of meaningful practice.
I'd heard that women make the best wing-men and sort of stored it away academically, like the fact that the temperature of the Sun's surface is 5,778 Kelvin, but now I can confirm they are at least WAY better than I am. Which is sort of like being able to dunk over Vern Troyer, but whatever.
We four chatted, and then I found myself having a side-conversation with just one of these delightful women. I'd known going in that she was stylish and attractive, but she turned out to be funny, thoughtful, and smart as well. We talked about the law (her vocation), Hannah Arendt and her observations of the banality of evil at Eichmann's trial in Jerusalem (like you do; shut up!), Roller-derby, and emotional manipulation (because I'm awesome at flirting at bars, as I've already made abundantly clear). I managed not to overhype myself as I'm aware some guys do, nor to say anything too goddawful stupid - a pitfall for me at the best of times.
The feedback was good, with the proper looks, the appropriate laughs, the slightly-too-slowly-averted eyes and so forth.
So when it came time to go, I understand you're supposed to ask for a number or something? Did I, you might ask. To which I have to ask, have you not been paying attention? No. Of course I didn't. I'm a goddamned monkey. Did she follow us out and give it to me anyway? Yes, yes she did. Thank Christ.
Now I have to find a way to tell her I have no job, or I guess, find a job. And before you chime in with helpful/hurtful advice, let me agree that with that first paycheck from my new job I should and will buy myself some goddamn balls.
Anyway, the other important part of this post for those who know me is that I have a legit crush and attraction to this woman I just met.
I was actually wondering recently why I haven't had a really crazy crush for a long while (because actually I am neurotic ... and a girl). Part of it has to do with who I've met, but I think really it comes down to this: It's hard to have a crush on someone you know too well. When you meet people through friends you often know too much about them.
The crush, in many ways, is you projecting your idealized version of someone onto a relatively blank canvas and getting psyched. If you already know them too well you can't get too excited because you already know they hate the poor or were confused by The Usual Suspects or believe in astrology or whatever.
Anyway, I'm psyched at the very least for the crush while it lasts. As for "next steps", I believe I'm supposed to call her and propose a sensible date or something.
I'm fucked.
For this to make sense as a blog post, you have to understand that I'm terrible, like apocalyptically terrible, at picking people up at bars ... or clubs ... or, well let's not varnish a turd, anywhere. I'm awful at it. There are middle-schoolers with more game than yours truly. I'm fine in a relationship, and I'm not awful at meeting or even attracting women, but I'm more of the friend-of-a-friend, someone-you-know-from-a-group, kind of guy. I fail at bars.
That's a large part of why I met this woman through the happy expedient of finding my friend talking to her and her buddy when I returned from buying said friend and myself drinks at the bar of a hip D.C. establishment. She'd struck up a conversation with two women standing nearby and was engaged in a lively conversation. I was in awe. Surely it's not that easy. What does one open with? That's not even the set-up for a joke. I suck at this.
No joke, I'm congenitally awful at this game and lack any sort of meaningful practice.
I'd heard that women make the best wing-men and sort of stored it away academically, like the fact that the temperature of the Sun's surface is 5,778 Kelvin, but now I can confirm they are at least WAY better than I am. Which is sort of like being able to dunk over Vern Troyer, but whatever.
We four chatted, and then I found myself having a side-conversation with just one of these delightful women. I'd known going in that she was stylish and attractive, but she turned out to be funny, thoughtful, and smart as well. We talked about the law (her vocation), Hannah Arendt and her observations of the banality of evil at Eichmann's trial in Jerusalem (like you do; shut up!), Roller-derby, and emotional manipulation (because I'm awesome at flirting at bars, as I've already made abundantly clear). I managed not to overhype myself as I'm aware some guys do, nor to say anything too goddawful stupid - a pitfall for me at the best of times.
The feedback was good, with the proper looks, the appropriate laughs, the slightly-too-slowly-averted eyes and so forth.
So when it came time to go, I understand you're supposed to ask for a number or something? Did I, you might ask. To which I have to ask, have you not been paying attention? No. Of course I didn't. I'm a goddamned monkey. Did she follow us out and give it to me anyway? Yes, yes she did. Thank Christ.
Now I have to find a way to tell her I have no job, or I guess, find a job. And before you chime in with helpful/hurtful advice, let me agree that with that first paycheck from my new job I should and will buy myself some goddamn balls.
Anyway, the other important part of this post for those who know me is that I have a legit crush and attraction to this woman I just met.
I was actually wondering recently why I haven't had a really crazy crush for a long while (because actually I am neurotic ... and a girl). Part of it has to do with who I've met, but I think really it comes down to this: It's hard to have a crush on someone you know too well. When you meet people through friends you often know too much about them.
The crush, in many ways, is you projecting your idealized version of someone onto a relatively blank canvas and getting psyched. If you already know them too well you can't get too excited because you already know they hate the poor or were confused by The Usual Suspects or believe in astrology or whatever.
Anyway, I'm psyched at the very least for the crush while it lasts. As for "next steps", I believe I'm supposed to call her and propose a sensible date or something.
I'm fucked.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Yay! Redundant.
Look, up in the sky, is it a bird? Is it a sausage? No, it's Daniel! Good grief, why is it Daniel?
I got made redundant the other day, which isn't nearly as bad as it sounds, since I kind of hated my job for a number of reasons. I really liked some of the folk I worked with, but some made my teeth itch.
So I'm "flying without a net" now, and looking for a new gig. Not sure what area I'm looking in, since I'm now interested in project management, writing, coding, and this whole "social media" thing. Also, obviously, trapeze.
The picture above and the video below were shot a couple of weeks ago when I went to the TSNY installation here in D.C.
This is my first go at doing trapezery, which is a word I just made up.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
What a smart person thinks about Boomers
Friend and reader, Doug, made this comment to my last post. He's generally cleverer than I am, so here are his thoughts where you don't have to go hunting for them in the comments. Thanks Doug:
When we were growing up, every significant milestone in the Boomers' life was heralded on the cover of Time magazine -- Boomers Turn 40, Boomers Return to Church, Boomers Breed, Boomers Retirement Coming Soon, etc. It seemed to wither up after that last one and I have a theory about this: The Boomers' retirement means that they no longer holding the senior editorial positions in the mass media any more.
My theory extends to the younger years of the Boomers' lives as well -- The Beatles, Vietnam, Woodstock and the rise and fall of Disco. In that era it was the parents of the Boomers who shaped the message of the media and they were just so proud that they had to write about their kids. That is only natural, I love to write about my kids as well. The difference is that these parents (aka The Greatest Generation) bred en masse and this boom had a significant impact on the demographics of the country, therefore it was extra special.
This trend will continue past the retirement of Boomers and likely always will. When our generation ("X") got a few years beyond college, we made our mark. The alt rock of our high school years became mainstream. We embraced the Internet and the changed the definition of "mass media". The kids graduating from high school in 2009 will do the same thing in about ten years.
So, I don't share the vindictive attitude toward the Me Generation, I view what they did and what happened as a consequence as inevitable. The demise of their influence is also inevitable -- and quite welcome as well.
As for marketing a radio station to them in 2009, I think it's a bit crazy. If we're talking about terrestrial radio, it's a dying medium aimed at a demographic beyond their prime earning years in an era when the economy has shifted people away from raw consumerism. If it's not terrestrial radio, you're pushing new media to a group that is well behind the curve on the adoption of Internet or satellite radio. Good luck with that.
I think my comment is now longer than your original post. You seem to have struck a nerve.
When we were growing up, every significant milestone in the Boomers' life was heralded on the cover of Time magazine -- Boomers Turn 40, Boomers Return to Church, Boomers Breed, Boomers Retirement Coming Soon, etc. It seemed to wither up after that last one and I have a theory about this: The Boomers' retirement means that they no longer holding the senior editorial positions in the mass media any more.
My theory extends to the younger years of the Boomers' lives as well -- The Beatles, Vietnam, Woodstock and the rise and fall of Disco. In that era it was the parents of the Boomers who shaped the message of the media and they were just so proud that they had to write about their kids. That is only natural, I love to write about my kids as well. The difference is that these parents (aka The Greatest Generation) bred en masse and this boom had a significant impact on the demographics of the country, therefore it was extra special.
This trend will continue past the retirement of Boomers and likely always will. When our generation ("X") got a few years beyond college, we made our mark. The alt rock of our high school years became mainstream. We embraced the Internet and the changed the definition of "mass media". The kids graduating from high school in 2009 will do the same thing in about ten years.
So, I don't share the vindictive attitude toward the Me Generation, I view what they did and what happened as a consequence as inevitable. The demise of their influence is also inevitable -- and quite welcome as well.
As for marketing a radio station to them in 2009, I think it's a bit crazy. If we're talking about terrestrial radio, it's a dying medium aimed at a demographic beyond their prime earning years in an era when the economy has shifted people away from raw consumerism. If it's not terrestrial radio, you're pushing new media to a group that is well behind the curve on the adoption of Internet or satellite radio. Good luck with that.
I think my comment is now longer than your original post. You seem to have struck a nerve.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Boomers
Someone I admire and respect works a great deal as an entrepreneuse in the Boomer market. A recent tweet from her asked for advice about what to feature on an upcoming boomer radio station, and that raised a bit of a conflict for me.
My first reaction to Boomers is "fuck those guys".
It's probably wrong, but from my perspective Boomers are the generation that occurred between my parent's and mine, fucked up health care and education for my generation, and occasionally have the temerity to call my generation slackers.
I don't believe it about all Boomers, but whenever I'm asked to consider the group as a whole, my reaction is "fuck the 'me' generation".
Anyone else out there have a similar reaction, or know a good way for me to recast this crowd of self-involved hypocrites (joke) in a more positive light?
My first reaction to Boomers is "fuck those guys".
It's probably wrong, but from my perspective Boomers are the generation that occurred between my parent's and mine, fucked up health care and education for my generation, and occasionally have the temerity to call my generation slackers.
I don't believe it about all Boomers, but whenever I'm asked to consider the group as a whole, my reaction is "fuck the 'me' generation".
Anyone else out there have a similar reaction, or know a good way for me to recast this crowd of self-involved hypocrites (joke) in a more positive light?
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Seriously? Not a single comment on the chinchillas?
I thought that rant was hilarious. I don't even need to read it really. Just a gander at the snooty, unsuspecting chinchillas is enough to set me off.
Oh well.
So, you know how some weeks you really get a lot done at work, clear up the clutter in your inbox and manage to sort out the blueprints that'll lay the groundwork for the rest of your career? Yeah, me neither.
On the plus side, I did buy an attractive hat. In the other column though, it's the kind of hat you can only get away with wearing if you're particularly hip and, more-to-the-point, not lugging an extra 10 pounds of girth about just in case of emergency (like in case I retrospectively realize I really DID want that pound of cheese I ate last night).
You can't be too careful.
Oh well.
So, you know how some weeks you really get a lot done at work, clear up the clutter in your inbox and manage to sort out the blueprints that'll lay the groundwork for the rest of your career? Yeah, me neither.
On the plus side, I did buy an attractive hat. In the other column though, it's the kind of hat you can only get away with wearing if you're particularly hip and, more-to-the-point, not lugging an extra 10 pounds of girth about just in case of emergency (like in case I retrospectively realize I really DID want that pound of cheese I ate last night).
You can't be too careful.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
