Mr. Where
Queer Sighted's post "I'm never going to find Mr. Right" addresses a problem not just confined to New York city... namely, the single gay man's lamentation on the lack of datable guys out there.

Post author Richard Rothstein advocates for us to get involved through gay and lesbian community centers, and he nails the reason so many men don't:

"Most of us know of but claim to be too busy or too cool to try the political, social or cultural organization route, but that, my friends, is where the husbands are to be found."

He's definitely got a point. Lately I've been pursuing the DC bar scene, mainly because that's where my friends (mostly couples) show up. And I've never gotten more than two dates out of any guy I've met in a bar.

Trouble is, I haven't had that much luck going the organization route either. And I've burned out on them. Over the past couple of dozen years, I've been:

A church-going member of Dignity Washington;
A helpline volunteer and youth group coordinator for SMYAL;
A Saturday-morning regular with Front Runners;
A coxswain for DC Strokes Rowing Club;
A bass in the Gay Men's Chorus of Washington;
A cycler in the Philadelphia-DC AIDS Ride;
A participant in numerous AIDS walks;
A 1999 award recipient from the Arch and Bruce Brown Foundation.

I've been to Provincetown, Fire Island, West Hollywood and Mykonos, sailed on four gay cruises, and spent countless weekends in Reho. I've alternated searching with giving up and not caring. And I'm chronically single. I've gone through numerous therapists, trying to isolate and treat the problem, but no luck. Is it me? Is it DC?

One friend, part of a couple, asked me "Are you happy?" I answered "About 50/50." "Well," he added, "I'm about 60/40, so being in a relationship doesn't change things all that much."

A fellow "singleton" claims guys are intimidated by me, because I'm solid, drama-free, and all about being "real" and "honest" (which doesn't mean "full disclosure) and "who I am." "They can sense those things in you, and it frightens them," he says.

"Actually," I answer back, "I don't think DC guys sense anything."

So is it the guys out there, or am I just too picky?

The New Money
Why is the federal government minting Presidential Dollar coins? Don't the powers-that-be remember how the public took to the Susan B. Anthony and Sacajawea dollars? According to the Wikipedia page on the Sacajawea coin:

Despite a major promotional blitz by the United States government, these coins [Sacajawea and Susan B. Anthony] failed to gain popularity with the general public, and mintages of the coins declined sharply after the first year, just as mintages of the Susan B. Anthony dollar had done 21 years earlier.

I know why I don't like dollar coins - I don't like them because they're too close in size to quarters. It's too easy to mix them up. Supposedly, the new Presidential dollars will be gold, which the Mint believes will take care of this problem. But the Sacajawea coins were gold too (and still are - since they're still being minted in small amounts, chiefly for coin collectors.) And coins of a different color matter not a hoot, since so many of us can tell the difference between a dime, nickel and quarter with our eyes closed.

The state quarters introduced a few years ago are still going strong - because they're basically quarters. Only the designs are different. If the federal government wants dollar coins to take off, then they need to look closely at how Americans actually feel about their money. Dollar coins go against all kinds of mindsets, but the feds haven't bothered to research any of that. No, it's taken an Act of Congress to spend more money on designing, minting and marketing the same old product that didn't work two times before.

Confession of a Reformed Movie Freak
I have not seen a single movie that's up for an Academy Award this year.

Technorati: Control or Communication?
I'm going to get geeky for a few minutes...
Thanks to 2000 Bloggers, which included my Z-list blog merely because I asked them to, I've seen my Technorati ranking go from somewhere in the hundreds of thousands (which I am led to believe is bad) to somewhere in the thirty thousands (which I am led to believe is not great but not bad). I've had the number of blogs linking to me jump from zero to around 100. Some calls this "link baiting," and Mack Collier over at The Viral Garden has this to say about that:

Amy Gahran says that 'link-farms' such as the Z-List and 2000 Bloggers are wrong, because they game the system, and skew Technorati's 'Authority-Ranking' results. Yeah they do, but that was kinda the whole point, the system was wrong to begin with and needed to be skewed. Some A-Listers might not agree with me, but any site/blog etc that applies 'authority-ranking' to determine that the content I produce here is better than your content, simply because I have more links than you do, is not only wrong, but evil, and goes against everything that's right with blogging.

My sentiments exactly. I put it this way: I currently make no money from this blog. And it's worth $0.00. I call myself a z-list blogger because there's no letter past z. But that's really what it's all about, right? Sure, I like seeing my numbers fluctuate like they have been doing. But right now, my real support comes from new friends who have read this blog, established bloggers who post comments, and the number of visitors I see nightly through Google Analytics. The controversy over at Technorati, with them getting all bent out of shape because 2000 Bloggers has screwed with their precious rating system - it seems to me they're talking out of both sides of their mouth. On the one hand, this explosion of Web-based individually-created content is seen as democracy on steroids (in a good way). Everybody can have a blog! Sign up for Technorati - claim your blog! Do it today!

On the other hand, their decision to block link counts from "linkbaiting" sites... well, I'm reminded of Ned Beatty's discourse to Peter Finch in Network:

"It is the international system of currency which determines the vitality of life on this planet. THAT is the natural order of things today. THAT is the atomic and subatomic and galactic structure of things today. And YOU have meddled with the primal forces of nature. And YOU WILL ATONE. Am I getting through to you, Mr. Beale? You get up on your little 21-inch screen and howl about America, and democracy. There is no America; there is no democracy. There is only IBM, and ITT, and AT&T, and DuPont, Dow, Union Carbide, and Exxon. Those are the nations of the world today."

And Technorati.

Things Do Not Scamper In My Living Room
It seems I have a mouse. A rodent chewed a hole in one of the baseboards while I was gone and has been making like my place was Freedom of the Seas. And I'm on the fourth floor!

I spoke to my building manager, and he had the exterminator in.

The exterminator left a note... well, not actually a note. A modified post-it with printing on it. Kind of a form. So that no extra time can be taken in filling it out, I guess. It cheerily states:

OUR SERVICE TECHNICIAN WAS HERE TODAY
DATE: 2/13/07
TECHNICIAN: A.P.
Treatment was performed for control of:
/_/ Roaches
/_/ Mice (this box was checked)
/_/ Ants
/_/ Rats
/_/ Other
The following area(s) were treated:
/_/ Kitchen (this box was checked, so I won't go into all the other areas, which weren't.)

Please be patient and allow the treatment time to achieve its maximum results.

It looks like the treatment consists of four sticky pads, in the four corners of my kitchen. When I saw these, I was first puzzled, then my head tried to wrap around what would actually transpire with these pads. I came up with two options:

1. The mouse would trample the pad, which would leave marks on his feet, which would then be visible on my carpet and lead me to where he is; or,
2. The mouse would get stuck on the pad, his fur get all matted with the sticky stuff, and he wouldn't be able to move - and I'd find him, looking up at me, knowing that I will bag him and toss him in the garbage in the alley. I can hear him now: "Yeah, sure, destroy me and everything I stand for. But remember, every time you see those mouse ears, or hear the Mickey Mouse Club March, or watch Gene Kelly dancing with Jerry the Mouse in Anchors Aweigh, think of my heritage, and the death you've sentenced me to."

From a customer service standpoint, I would have appreciated a little more advice on exactly how to handle the traps in my kitchen, if only to keep me from obsessing over How To Handle Finding The Mouse In Dire Straights At 6 AM On A Wednesday.

I'm Sorry, You're Mistaking Me For Someone Who Cares
It seems like I dig more and more detritus out of my postal mailbox daily. Real estate flyers, carpet cleaning coupons, solicitations from countless nonprofits. So it was with glee that I read Marc Sirkin's post "How the New Web Transforms Your Organization" at his "NPMarketing" blog. True, the title of the post doesn't quite hint at the gems to come... but down inside, past the Sheryl Crow picture, is his "sample of how any typical NPO might currently treat you." This is a clever and true accounting of how those newsletters we get in the mail fail to impress us, and keep returning in one form or another to continue in the same manner.

My favorite part: "A few weeks later, you get a direct mail piece from that same organization. It includes mailing labels, but you chuckle because the last time you sent a letter was NEVER. Everyone you know is on email and you pay your bills online."

Actually, I like the mailing labels. But I digress... Marc's piece made me think about a newsletter I receive from a former employer...

It arrives roughly every quarter, a glossy newsletter from a this large, national education organization. The newsletter tells me all about the programs going on, how many kids are keeping their heads and hearts in handy, healthy order, who's given big bucks lately.

Great. Marvelous. Wonderful. I find it hard to care.

See, I was an EMPLOYEE there. I was never a MEMBER. So the soft-sell tactic of keeping me informed on the organization's progress in the hopes that I would give mu-nay ($ - which I'm asked for in a separate mailing) not only doesn't work, it doesn't keep the publication alive in my condo for more than 30 seconds - it goes right into the trash.

I would tell my former employer to save the postage and remove me from the mailing list, as I have no intention of giving any money. But I have a retirement fund of some sort with them, which I'll start receiving at 65, and I don't want them to remove me from that list. Plus I also want to stay informed if anything happens to that pension.

A couple of years ago, some former colleagues put together a reunion of some of the organization's employees. Nothing fancy, just a pay-your-own-way dinner at a local restaurant, and a chance to catch up with people we hadn't seen in a long time. It was fun. We were engaging each other with stories of our times at the organization. Nobody spoke of the organization's mission, vision, guiding principles, etc.

If my former employer really wants to get closer to me, and THEN ask me for money, I need to be treated as a former employee, someone who worked for the company. They've mistakenly pegged me as an alumni of the program.

Living in DC
Whole Foods, P Street, yesterday. My groceries are all bagged, I've swiped my debit card through the debit card reader, and I opened my wallet to extract a twenty-dollar bill.
"Oh, and can you give me a ten and two fives for this?" I ask the young lady at the cash register.
She gives me a look like I've either asked her to discuss string theory or murder the person behind me.
"How are you going to pay for the groceries?" she asks.
"On my debit card," I say. "I just passed it through the reader."
"Oh," she says. She punches a couple of buttons on the register, takes my twenty, gives me the change, and hands me my receipt.

I guess I didn't realize I was being so... obtuse.

Circuit Breaker
There were 3700 passengers (3695 guys and 5 women) on the Freedom of the Seas last week, and that is way too many people. Naturally, a significant portion of those guys were of the buff, tanned, athletic, handsome gene pool. Early on I could tell there was something different about this cruise, as the first half of the week was slightly marred by the overabundance of circuit party types who didn't follow the first unwritten rule of any Atlantis cruise: when you pass somebody in the stateroom hallways, you always say hi. From some buff bodies I received a few icy grunts. And the guy across from my stateroom let fail his half of a short, basic conversation I started. It got to a point where I judged friendliness by the shape of a body advancing toward me. Too much muscle meant too much attitude - and it didn't take all that much muscle. I wondered if I was noticing this because I'm now a much more seasoned "cruiser" and can view the scene with a more focused eye. But then a number of other people on the cruise made comments about this phenomenon, speaking of the "ice queens" on board.

As gay men, I think we somehow believe that we can all treat each other with friendliness and respect, since we were all subject to the same fears and humiliations and societal hatred when we were growing up. When we run up against the dreaded "attitude," especially from someone we find attractive, our gay grid of a belief system is shocked into disarray - not to mention the fact that it hurts!

I ran across a quote - a question, really - that speaks to this, on Life Beyond Code:

"What do you see when you see people?" The speaker goes on to explain:

We can have an instrumental view of people and see them simply as means to achieving our ends. Or we can see them as humans deserving of our respect, care and attention. Ancient practices of hospitality grew from choosing to see the “stranger” as a person and not a threat. Civility which is much lacking in our world also comes from a willingness to examine our perspective on others.

Saying hi to everyone you pass in the stateroom hallway equalizes the whole experience. If we choose to say hi to everyone, we aren't seeing people as a "means of achieving our ends" (whatever that may be...)

And who knows, me might meet someone who will end up important to our life.

I Didn't Even Watch the Commercials
The American Airlines flight from Miami landed at around 6:30 last night, depositing a bunch of guys from the cruise into the frigid locale of Washington, DC. The flight's captain announced over the plane's PA system:

"Thank you for flying American. We hope you have a great night, and Happy Super Bowl!"

Um, tell me, since when did Super Bowl Sunday achieve the top level of calendar observances which instigate their own specific greeting?

A Marketing Golden Rule
Atlantis Events (the gay travel charter company of which I am an "alumnus" - having traveled now on four of their vacations) maintains a Web site plastered with pictures of buff male bodies, youthful and athletically energized, all hanging out with other handsome buff young gentlemen by pools, on beaches, and striding through picturesque locales. I'm going to forget for the moment that I've bought the Atlantis product, and click through the site for the first or even the fifth time.

In doing so, I'm bound to conclude Atlantis isn't the vacation for me. That is, since I'm not one of those buff gorgeous athletic perfect specimens. But the funny thing is, Atlantis still wants to be your travel agent, even if your 65, 120 or 280 lbs, working too hard at your job to maintain your body at the gym, and bald with glasses.

How do I know this? Well, Atlantis tells me so, right on their FAQ page:

"Do I have to have a great body to fit in on Atlantis?
Very funny. Seriously, while we have some great bodies in our brochure and website (remember it IS marketing after all), Atlantis is really all about being yourself and feeling great about who you are. Whatever shape you’re in, you’re going to feel right at home on Atlantis. We promise."

Focus on those words in the parenthesis - "remember it IS marketing after all." Now read this from Seth Godin, who has incredible insight on marketing today:

"My hopeful side says that marketers should start taking responsibility for what we do, and start marketing to people the way we'd like to be marketed to. The cynical side of me realizes that this isn't bloody likely."

While Seth's quote comes from a post on the recent Aqua Teen Hunger Force advertising debacle, his words resonate throughout his blog. And they've made me question why Atlantis feels it has to constantly parade the A-Gay pictures in order to make sales. To me, it's disingenuous to market your product this way - ESPECIALLY when you then have to retract the message your images carry. You end up sending two conflicting messages. In essence you're simultaneously promoting and negating your brand.

I'd like to ask Rich Campbell, CEO of Atlantis Events, what are Atlantis Events precisely? Playgrounds for the genetically gifted? Or experiences for us all? I'm confused.

There's a very easy way to resolve this dilemma. Post pictures of actual Atlantis guests, in a wider range of ages and body types. Show us we're going to "feel at home." Then you don't have to tell us.

Do you really think bookings will suffer?

Where Winter Has No Meaning
Just got back this evening from an incredible Atlantis cruise to Puerto Rico, St. Maartin, and Labadee, Hispaniola (aka "Haiti"), and I was overwhelmed by the fact that there are places on this earth where winter is irrelevant.

I'm tanned, burned, mellow and in heavy denial. Denial that I'll be returning to work on Tuesday after using Monday as my re-entry day. I'm also over-tired, over-danced, over-spent, over-socialized, over-baconed (which I thought was impossible) and under-hydrated.

The actual cruise itself was a 24/7 festival of meeting new and interesting/exciting people, and signs of a community continuing to divide itself. I suspect I'll be writing about the past week in the next few days, but I won't bore you with all the specifics of my day-to-day activities. That would be the equivalent of "Earl and Belinda's slides of their trip to Cancun." Instead, I'll try to present some observations on the gay community through the lens of a rarely-experienced gay microcosm: our ongoing worship of beauty's tyranny, the aging gay man's battle for self respect in spite of reality, the messages we sell ourselves while we ignore the messages we try to tell ourselves, and the secrets to stability while boogie-boarding one of those surfing pool things.

It May Be Cold in DC, But the Heat's On at WETA

WETA's change to all classical has rubbed some station supporters the wrong way, causing some electricity. The controversy is profiled in today's Washington Post. In "WETA Hears Some Static Over Switch To Classical" the public broadcasting station even admits to putting the listener somewhere, but Not First.

"[WETA general manager] DeVany said the station was under no obligation to inform listeners. "We're allowed to do this" under WETA's bylaws, he said. "There are certain circumstances when we have private or closed meetings." One such circumstance, he said, is when changes "could affect employees, and a change in format could affect employees."

While the switch is going to save the station tons of bucks (in not having to air expensive programming like "A Prairie Home Companion" and "Car Talk"), not informing current listeners of the big change has understandably made a number of people angry - and I feel for them! Listener Tim Potter of Frederick has the last say in the article:

"I'm pretty disappointed, and I can see how contributors feel betrayed," Potter said by phone. "You expect this sort of thing from a for-profit company, but not from public radio. "It's a bit like advertising a product and then doing a bait-and-switch."

Oprah Hogs the Spotlight
Why is PBS showing a documentary on Oprah Winfrey? Why are they giving extra broad and cablecast time to someone who doesn't need it? Oprah's on TV all the time... if it's not her show, then it's something called "after her show." There are millions of other African American lives PBS can showcase. Why does it have to be the woman who practically owns... Oh, wait a minute, I know why they're doing it - money. PBS is thinking, with a show on Oprah, we'll get tons of eyeballs. Ratings.

They May Want Me Back, But I've Moved On
WETA-FM has gone back to the all-classical format they abandoned in favor of the all-talk format... and WGMS has metamorphosized into WETA in some kind of mad radio-dna-splicing phenomenon. You can read all about it in today's Washington Post article on the merger, which makes the whole affair seem like some clandestine operation done in the dead-of-night. We don't hear anything about the classical music audience until halfway through the article:

"It made sense for these two organizations to come together," said Joel Oxley, Bonneville's top local executive. "Both sides agreed it made sense for their stations and their listeners. This saves classical music in this market and arguably puts it in a better place than it is now."

See, the station comes first, and the listeners... don't come first. And I contend you have to do a whole lot more to save classical music in this market. The article speaks of WGMS's 18,000 classical music CDs (which are going to join WETA's 25,000). The way WGMS has been playing music this past decade, I thought they only had 10 CDs.

I'm still miffed at WETA, especially after I sent them an email when they changed to all talk. I said in the email "I've been a listener since 1974, and I've watched as the station devoted less and less hours to music. I now have no reason to listen to WETA at all." I received an email back, stating "We hope you'll continue to listen to WETA as there will now be many programs from which you can choose."

Got news for you WETA - I've moved on to CPR in Denver and KUSC in Los Angeles, via the Internet. I'll probably wake up to you, but I've gone out-of-state for my soundtrack at work.

Sometimes Waiting Isn't All That Bad
My throat had been scratchy all week, and I was constantly trying to dislodge something from my bronchial tubes. But I could still breath and wasn't doubled over in a wheezing asthmatic coughing fit. So I called my doctor's office - Kaiser Permanente - on Friday morning before I went to work. "We can see you at 10:50 this morning," the appointment rep on the other end of the line said. I took the appointment, the office being a five minute walk from me. I've had Kaiser for years, and the one thing they've consistently delivered on is this kind of acute illness treatment. Simply put, if you're sick, they can see you quick.

The waiting area was mobbed with coughing, generally miserable-looking Kaiser members. A nurse called me into the examining room after just a couple of minutes. She weighed me, took my temp, blood pressure, heart rate, etc. All excellent. "Your doctor will be here to see you in a few minutes," she said. "You're the next patient on her list, and I'll check back to make sure you're seen soon." She was very friendly and cheerful, and left me sitting on the crinkly-paper examining table.

The few minutes ticked by and then started piling on, one after the other. I leaned back, the examining table inclined in a half-sitting position. I closed my eyes. I started thinking about getting back into work and starting on a project, going through the steps in my mind... and dozed off. Not long, not even a few minutes. But long enough to know my awareness shut down briefly. I snapped awake. Then the doctor came in. "Everybody's got a cold today," she mentioned. "Including me," I said.

I tell this story not because there's any great outcome to it, but to give a counterpoint to all the bad customer service I seem to find in DC. On this day, I was ready to wait. All I had to do was get back to work, although my doctor said "You might as well go home and rest." I had too much work to do. This has been the kind of treatment I've gotten from Kaiser all the years I've been with them - if I need to see them fast, they can get me in.

Now if they can just work on getting to me on a timely basis for diagnostic, preventive, or specialized care!

P.S. The cold got much worse after I picked up my prescription. Had to miss a party on Saturday night. But that's not Kaiser's fault. Just my rotten luck.

Noro, the Drama Queen of Viruses
With just slightly over a week to go before the World's Largest Gay Cruise casts off from Miami into the Eastern Caribbean, the Norovirus is commanding about as much media attention here in DC as the battle on Capitol Hill over the President's troop escalation desires for Iraq.

Noro struck the Freedom of the Seas back in December. Not content with making its sufferers absolutely miserable, this DNA-in-protein-coating has gone on to grab the spotlight at the Dulles Airport Hilton, stowed away aboard QE2, gone to prison in San Quentin, and according to the Contra Costa Times is rampaging across the US (probably in a pimped-out Hummer.)

The Dulles outbreak is interesting, in that approximately 100 Hilton guests were struck down, and 20 hotel staffers. The QE2, according to Cruise Critic, saw "6 percent of the ship's 1,652 passengers and 2.7 percent of its 1,002 crewmembers" afflicted." And I seem to remember that the Freedom outbreak felled a couple of hundred passengers, but only about 30 or so crew. So, how come more crew aren't affected? Maybe they're trained thoroughly in washing their hands, as well as using rubber gloves in meal preparation and stateroom maintenance...

"Norovirus outbreaks aboard cruise ships generally are less a problem caused by the ship and more a problem caused by ill passengers who don't want to miss their long-planned vacation," according to a January 6 article in the Atlanta Journal-Consitution.

Come on people, let's start buying some travel insurance! That way, if you have to cancel because you're sick before you depart on vacation, you'll get your money back!

As for the upcoming cruise, I haven't seen any special dispatches from Atlantis addressing the outbreaks. Hopefully the ship will take extra precautions. Royal Caribbean has signs all around about it, as well as hand sanitizers everywhere you go. But as I can tell you from first-hand experience, there's really no way to tell you've got that kind of bug until it's right on top of you - or cascading right out in front of you, as the case may be.

P.S. Here's a link to my post on preventing this nasty thing from climbing aboard...

There Is No A-List

My blog is worth $0.00.
How much is your blog worth?

Fort Lauderdude and I engaged in a spirited conversation last night, in which he asked me "how does one make money from a blog." I launched into a dissertation on publishing, traditional barriers to entry for writers, blog ranking and marketing, A-List and Z-List bloggers and on and on. Then I pointed him to the most excellent writings of Hugh McLeod over at Gaping Void, especially three of his Random Notes on Blogging:

24. You think A-Listers are arrogant bastards? You should meet the B-List.
25. There is no A-List. If you think there is, you’ve missed the whole point.
26. There is an A-List. Fuck with us and we’ll have you destroyed like stray dogs.

I think Hugh really has a good point with #25. I tell myself that over and over. Because with the barriers to entry for publishing now at an all time low, it's not about being in the top 10 of anything. Google Analytics shows me that people are cruising "krooz." The "Long Tail" tells me small niches are good. "The splattering buckshot method of marketing," I told Fort Lauderdude, "is finally getting its comeuppance."

Who cares if I'm the fifty-billionth person to link to something. It's about creativity. It's about communication. It's about the human need to connect at some level.

That's what I tell myself. Even though my blog is worth $0.

A Bit More On This Passion Thing
From Steve Pavlina's insightful Personal Development Blog:

Do what you love, but be damned sure it’s profitable. If you do work you love, but it doesn’t generate income, your business will fail. If you do work you hate, but it generates income, your health will fail… and your business along with it. If you can’t do what you love and make it profitable, you’ve either got a hobby or a headache, not a sustainable business. Don’t settle for anything less than passion and profit.

More From "This Passion Thing Is Way Overrated"
I found another blog posting about passion - more of a quote really, although it generated some great explanations - on Bob Sutton's Work Matters. The quote is #2 on his "Ten Things I Believe" list:

Indifference is as important as passion.

Someone else believes the same as me!

I've believed for years that even if you love something (the way I love music, movies, theatre and a bunch of other things) then it's ok, if not totally necessary, to have a good dose of healthy disregard for it also. You need to be able to see the parts that don't work, that are dumb, boring, "not all that," and you need to get away from it too.

Any really cool thing I've done in the past (Philadelphia-DC AIDS Ride, performing at Carnegie Hall or at the Kennedy Center Honors, writing a full-length play and seeing it performed onstage) has always been followed by a feeling of having to get far away from it. I always thought this was a negative quality in me - some sort of laziness inherent in my immoral being - but now I'm really seeing that it's a necessary part. The trick is to come back to it at some point, because there may be new things that have come up in the interim that'll take me to the next step.

In other words, I've had to become indifferent to some things I'm passionate about in order to continue that passion further.

Plus, that indifference may have kept me from pursuing a course of action that I thought I needed to pursue (writing another play, even though I didn't have an idea for one), instead of the action I wanted to pursue (starting to write screenplays that were actually there in my head).

Do What You Love? How Do I Do That?
I feel a kinship to the people who submitted questions for a podcast (on Escape from Cubicle Nation) centered on Finding What You Are Supposed To Do With Your Life.

The questions others asked that I ask too:

- Given the choice between idea that you're passionate about that might take forever to make you any money, or an idea that just came to you one day, that you kinda sorta like, that looks like an easy money maker, which do you pursue?

- ask Martha if she has any new insight or ideas related to making the plunge without hitting bottom...

- How do I start to execute on what I know is my real calling? More important...how do I execute when I have a househould to support, without risking the cardboard box under a bridge scenario?

and my personal favorite:

- Do you have to be willing to do something 24/7 for no money in order to conclude you're "passionate"?

I'm going to have to listen to this podcast, when I get a few minutes - or more like 60 of them, as I'll have to figure out how to listen to a podcast in the first place.

Maybe they could spend a little less money on advertising?
Had an epiphany the other day. I realized that television advertising does nothing to influence what products I buy, what vacations I take, what services I purchase, and what I eat. I took a look at an earlier list I posted - the brands I pay into for goods and services and/or associate myself with - and found I could not remember a single advertising spot they've produced. Nor could I say that TV ads influenced my decisions to purchase from them. I've even been paying more attention to commercials over the past couple of days, to find one spot that is either for something I buy, or would make me buy something. And while there are Comcast and Enterprise and Disney commercials, they never swayed my opinion and made me search them out.

So, maybe some of that money spent on producing ads and buying time and researching viewers could be spent on something a bit less fleeting.

One More Thing I Hate About Working in an Office

The Box of chocolate covered macadamia nuts.

Read the other things...

A Mouseclick for My AAP
Re-Imagineering dug up this cool quote from Walt Disney...

"Americans are a sociable folk, we like to enjoy ourselves in crowds, at sports arenas, at picnics, fairs and carnivals, at concerts and at the theater. Above all, we like to laugh together - even at our own shortcomings."

Regardless of the revisionist history of the man, Disney was an icon of mine when I was a kid in the sixties. He was pretty much the sole purveyor of high quality imagination and fantasy experiences back then.

"We like to enjoy ourselves in crowds..." I'll remember that over the next couple of weeks.

What Are You Selling?
Just had a run-in this morning with FedEx. Last night I sent a package to the chair of our board. This morning I tracked it and it showed up as undeliverable. "Wrong Address" was the reason noted. So I called Fedex.

The first call: Customer Service Rep (or CSR1) said "We're showing the zip code as having changed, and the recipient as moved."
"That's his address," I said. "He hasn't moved. And I don't think the zip code has changed."
She then proceeded to get a bunch of info from me, info that's already on the Airbill. Then she asked: "What's the recipient's phone number?"
"You don't have that?" I asked.
"It's not showing on my screen."
"But you should have it," I said. "It's on the Airbill."
She got huffy and I gave it to her. She said the package would be delivered by tomorrow.
"Tomorrow's not good," I said. "If it's tomorrow then it might as well not be delivered at all."
"I'm sorry sir. I'll see what I can do," she concluded, a shortness in her voice.

So I hang up and call the board chair.
"The zip code they're talking about is on the west side of Manhattan," he said. "My zip code hasn't changed."

So I call FedEx back and get CSR #2.
"Yes, we're showing the zip code as changed sir," she said.
"How can that be?" I asked.
"You'd be surprised at how many people don't know their zip code," she said.
"I assure you, my 'boss' knows his zip code," I said.
Then things got interesting.
She said the package might be delivered tomorrow.
"Is there someone else I can talk to, because if it's delivered tomorrow I don't think I should have to pay for it."
She told me there was no one. I insisted. After five tries, she said she'd find someone for me to talk to.
I'm put on hold.
Then she comes back.
"Sir, it seems that the package will be delivered. The delivery station got mixed up on the zip code and may have entered it incorrectly."
"So, this is a problem at your end?" I ask.
"Yes, it does seem so."
"So why, on two phone calls, was I told that the problem was at my end."
"I never said that."

Blah blah blah. I won't go on.

FedEx, solve my problem for me. I had to call twice and insist on getting answers, all the while being led to believe it was me (and those around me) who didn't have their act together. It seems that a little investigation on your part would have saved me a bunch of aggravation. It's Friday, we're closed on Monday, and the chair needs a ton of materials by Tuesday. Certainly I'm under the gun, and stressed out. Are the CSR's at FedEx not trained to think "the customer is probably getting flack from all sides, and we are here to help reduce his stress?" FedEx, you're not selling me overnight delivery. You're selling me my weekend!

I Am Sooo Ready To Go Into Business For Myself
Mainly because I am sooo tired of dealing with drama at work. Today I thought, "If I have to deal with people like this, I want to be PAID for it." I'm tired of the "corporate culture" in which you have a job to do, but before you do it you have to figure out HOW to maneuver around the people who are going to get in your way as you try to get that job done.

Or to put it more clearly:
A. There's the job you do.
B. There's the job you have to do in order to get to A.

I think I spend most of my day either motivating myself to the next task, or figuring out how to ask somebody for something they are required to give me. It's not that I'm shy. It's just that I'm tired.

So I've been jumping about some "entrepreneurism" blogs, picking up energy so I can answer the question: "What Am I Going To Do?"

I really enjoyed this post on Escape from Cubicle Nation: "Bob Knight: the perfect mascot for "The No Asshole Rule."

And I gathered a bunch of positive vibes from "8 Outdated Notions of Entrepreneurship" from Brazen Careerist.

They're helping chip away at my old, tangled, notions, taught to me in the 60's - you know the ones:
Winning is everything.
Work really hard -- and you'll get ahead.
and my favorite from the 80's:
If You Build It, He Will Come.
(but I'm not a farmer and I don't watch baseball...)

But I'm still left with: "What Should I Do?"
(and even though I like "don't worry, be crappy," I'm not sure how it fits into my life at the moment...)

Why I Don't Own An Ipod
(or any other mp3 player)
You'd think I would own one. I'm a music freak (self-proclaimed). But I don't own an Ipod because Ipod hasn't directed any of their marketing at me. Not that I go out and purchase anything just because I've seen it on television. And it isn't so much that Ipod has their sights on the younger hipper customer. It's just that I've never seen an mp3 player advertised expressly for the classical music loving listener (and by classical music I mean anything from early Gregorian Chant through Berlioz and Britten and on way past Steve Reich, with a smattering of film and Broadway thrown in.)

Oh sure, I've thought about buying one, but those thoughts haven't turned into desire.

I've even investigated classical music mp3 sites. But these sites haven't taken my knowledge and needs into their operation. Just today, in preparation for this post, I checked out one site, just to see if what I'm saying is still true. And I could find tons of composers. But orchestras and conductors and recording dates aren't right there with titles. In one case I did manage to find the ensemble performing - it was a download for Britten's Rejoice in the Lamb - but I was taken aback when that ensemble was listed as some high school chorus! I'm not going to pay for that!

Other sites advertise "hundreds of songs," but songs are the unit of measure for current, so called "popular" music. In the "classical" world, songs refer usually to "art songs" or even "arias." In the classical world, a composition can be less than a minute long (Webern) or over an hour (Mahler). Ipod's not speaking my language, and the classical mp3 sites aren't either. I supposed this is because there's a very small market out there for this type of music, and the people who listen to it are too old, in the mp3 worldview.

AAP: Attitude Adjustment Period
In preparation for the upcoming Atlantis Cruise aboard Freedom of the Seas (and its accompanying madness), I am slowly replacing my usually wary winterized DC-attitude with a more expansive view of people (i.e., guys.) I'm being helped by a host of online positive reinforcers, and I include some of them below...

from the "Hello, My Name is Scott" blog post "19 Things You Need to Know About Shyness"

2. To increase your attitude of approachability, assume and expect that people are friendly and will welcome you into their conversations and lives.

4. Shyness is the result of thinking that losses outweigh the gains in an encounter.

8. Change your attitude = change the way you act = changes the way people see you = change the way you see yourself.

11. Passion = approachable and attractive. So, find a way to get on the topic of your passion in every encounter. People need to see you talking about and doing what you're really good at and passionate about.

13. Avoid telling people that you're shy or introverted. They will believe you and it will become a self-fulfilling prophesy.

14. Don't Suffer a Toothache = I'm too tall, too shy, too low in company hierarchy, too busy, too important. Don't let these self-limiting beliefs stand in your way of approaching someone.

15. Being told repeatedly that "you only have one change to make a first impression" and other pressure/fear based warnings will cause someone to overly concern themselves with first impressions, and as a result, make mistakes.

from veteran Atlantis Cruiser Steve Kleine's "10 Rules for any Atlantis Cruise"

Second Rule: Smile and say hi to EVERYONE you run into. One of the things I have noticed on these trips is that people relax their attitude. Smiles are everywhere so it's easy to say hi. People will normally reply back with a "are you having a good time?" you reply "How could you not?" and just look around at the thousands of your family enjoying themselves. Natural conversation almost always flows from there. So don't be afraid to say hi to that hottie...and don't be afraid of guys that you find unattractive...say hi and you'll be amazed at how people will open up - most of the time sharing something of interest. I have made life long friends by following this rule. Diversity is good! This is a great chance to meet people outside our scene...hell I even sold my house to an older couple I met on a cruise.

Seventh rule: PARTICIPATE!

and just in case:
When someone acts mean or crudely to you, it's because:
o He thinks you dislike him; or
o He is threatened by you; or
o he is a jerk to everyone; or
o You've given him a reason to dislike you.

Things I Hate About Working In An Office

The Birthday Card. "Could you sign this and pass it along?" The card's always "from all of us!" And whether your the giver or receiver, there are only four types of statements inside: "Happy B-D!," "Have a great one!," "Hope it's Happy!," and "Go for it."

Somebody Finish That Last Brownie. Whenever someone brings in a box of candy or a tin of baked goods (cookies, brownies, etc.), there's always a miniscule portion left in the box or tray when everyone's had some. This portion will stay there for 2,000 years, because nobody wants to be accused of "taking the very last piece."

Going Anywhere En Masse. Say you're taking someone out to lunch for their birthday (before or after the Giving of the Card.) Everyone mills about the outer office area in their coats. Then a few people get on the elevator. Then you mill about the lobby. Still, it beats sitting at your desk.

How Was Your Weekend/Vacation/Holiday? There's only one answer to this: "Great!" No need to provide details, because even if you played tennis with Arnold Schwarzenegger, nobody really cares. Never, ever say "It was good...quiet." That means you spent the whole time alone because you are a loser and have no friends or family.

Gifts Received. It's never what you want. It's most likely something you have dozens of. And you always have to put on your best game face and say "Cool, I can really use this!"

Gifts Collected For. Almost always for a wedding shower, wedding gift, or baby shower. Which means if you're anything but a 20-50 year old woman, you will always be diving into your wallet and never opening a present. Not to be confused with the Leaving To Take A Better Job Gift, which is no longer given, as the departing employee is usually hastened out of the building before he or she can sabotage the payroll.

Can I See/Speak With You A Minute? If said by your supervisor and followed by a closed door, it means you're being laid off. You'll most likely be able to collect unemployment, as your ex-workplace wants to have nothing more to do with you and does not want to be involved in a "he said, she said" brewhaha over unemployment insurance. Which is why nobody ever gets fired anymore. But this is always an awkward moment, as you rapidly devise a strategy to find another job, and your supervisor wants you out of the building as fast as possible.

How Can Gold's Change Your Life Today? Improving Customer Service At A Gym Near You

I've paid my membership fee every month to one gym or another for years - and none of them have ever asked me if I was happy. If asked, I'd offer these improvement ideas...

Don't just email me ads for merchandise. Publish an email newsletter with workout tips, science-based exercise physiology pieces, nutrition ideas, motivation tactics.

Turn members into personal training clients by offering training at reduced prices. Heck, offer longtime members one free personal training session a month. During off hours. My gym's empty at 10am, 3pm, and it may even be empty at 9pm.

Feature member training goals, stories, aspirations on your Web site. Start a blog if you need to. Gold's tried something like this - they asked me to write up a testimonial for their "Wall of Fame." That was over a year ago. It's still not up.

Show personal training clients how much you care by arranging personal appearances by local fitness guru, bodybuilder, athlete or sports figures. Gold's tried this too - they recently ran a nationwide contest for members to win a training session with John Cena. Who won? Search me. I never received an email, and there's nothing on their Web site.

Don't offer me discounts on clothing. Use me as a billboard. Set me up with a couple of t-shirts, or a cool gym bag, or a baseball cap. Something that fits. Gold's gave me a t-shirt when I joined. XL. Although they could see I'm a M.

Greet me at the front desk and say "so long, thanks for working out!" when I leave. Front desk staff are the velvet rope people - and your members are the rock stars. Don't let the front desk staff become the Maginot Line. And resist the urge to conduct staff meetings there.

If staff is "on the floor" (i.e., anywhere they can be seen by members), then they should act accordingly. I've seen too many staff at too many gyms sitting in front of computer screens, doing who knows what. At Bally's once, I took a weight off a bench press bar and leaned it against the bench itself, since the rack was all the way across the room and I was going to use the weight again. "We don't lean weights against the machines," a staff person told me. No, I thought, we just stand around being annoying.

Pay attention to what equipment gets used, and what doesn't. Why do all gyms have racks of 100, 200, and 300 lb dumbells? Do the weight manufacturers sell sets and require you to buy what you really don't need? Have you ever seen anyone use these monster weights? Just think what you could put there instead - more useful dumbells, or another flat bench. It might help this kind of thing from happening.

If you're a chain, make it simple for a member in one city to work out at your gym in another city. We don't care if you're wholly owned and operated, or a name-only franchise with its own membership rules. If you're name's on the door, it's your's. I'm still not happy with the way I was treated in Fort Lauderdale earlier this year.

I'm Not the Only One Who Hates the Bland Health People
Donor Power Blog has this to add about the wonderful world of stock photos. It's the land where the Bland Health People come from, and I fight the urge to bellow "NO WAY!" every time someone says to me "I think we need pictures of smiling children on our Web site." And I thought I was the only one who has these feelings.

My High Points of 2006
Receiving an award from a national nonprofit organization.
Getting a great new Executive Director at work.
Personal training with PD, Squatmeister, and D-Man.
Charo!
Tinea corporis departs in time for the cruise.
The beer once I reached my hotel in Little Rock.
The return to size 30 waist jeans.
Finding Classical Online Radio in the USA.
Athens!
Barcelona!
Cannes!
Cozumel!
Grand Cayman!
Hispaniola!
Mykonos!
Rhodes!
Rome!
Santorini!
Reho and Fort Lauderdale!

Living in DC
December 23. Dupont Circle.
After my soap-buying excursion to Pentagon City, I decided to try and fix a Christmas Gift Problem I was having. And it occurred to me that Beadazzled, a store I never enter, might be able to help me out. Back in August, I bought my nephews some cool lanyards with silver axes and bulls from a shop in Santorini. “On the rim of an extinct volcano, near the fabled Lost City of Atlantis” I would tell them when they would inevitably look at me, puzzled, when they opened the gift. But on this day, when I took them out to look at them, I noticed the string portion was way too short – it wouldn’t fit over anyone’s head. There were two strings on each, which held copper beads and the silver axes or bull’s heads. At first I thought I would have to buy some longer cord and re-string them myself. Until I walked into Beadazzled.

The sales associate behind the counter took one look at them and said “Oh, these are easy to make longer. All you have to do is take each of these knots and pull…”

And somehow, the strings expanded. “Now they’ll fit!” he said.

“You don’t know how long I was tormented by this today,” I laughed. “You’ve definitely done your Christmas Good Deed!”

He laughed as handed me the lanyards, and said, “and you didn’t even have to spend any money!”

Note: the nephews actually liked the lanyards. Still, I included $25 with each. You can never be too careful.

Living in DC
Pentagon City, December 23. Purchasing soap at The Body Shop. One customer in front of me, attempting to contribute a gift certificate or a special percentage deal into her purchase. One “sales associate” at the checkout register. From the associate, a number of comments, the full text of which is unimportant. But the first words of each quote are:

“You need to…”
“You can’t use this…”
“You have to…”
“You don’t want to…”

This goes on for 15 seconds or so (which equals 5 minutes in store-waiting time). Then, a second “sales associate” steps in behind the next register, and joins in the explanation:

“What you need to know is…”
“She’s saying you have to go and pick out…”
“You have to buy $25 dollars worth of…”

We’re up to 30 seconds of this now (which equals 5.3 hours in store waiting time). I take control of my situation and hold out my debit card to this second associate. She looks at it, then takes it from me.

“Sorry,” she says.

I’m surprised the customer in front of me lasted as long as she did, with patience no less. I’m not too amazed that the sale went on and was made. As I walked out of the mall (with my soap), I thought of years ago, when I worked for a short time in retail. It was pretty miserable. The public can be so psychotic. You’re on your feet until your toes are numb. If it’s busy the line never ends. If it’s slow you have to straighten things up so that customers can knock them over once again. Definitely not an activity that’s going to play into the top of Maslow’s hierarchy.

Then I considered why companies allow their front lines to behave this way. I came up with:

1. These jobs are usually short-term, minimum wage.
2. The company handbook could be too thick, with too many rules and regulations governing what you wear and how the displays should look.
3. No training (or minimal, or ineffective) on “How To Greet The Customer Without Shutting Them Down Completely” and “How To Get The Customer To Do What You Want While Making It Seem That It’s Their Doing All Along.”

Basically, a mix of the dozen or so habits of highly effective people, the Tao Te Ching, and indicating with an open palm is what’s called for. But it was a couple of days before Christmas, and the mall was packed with people who weren’t shopping so much as needing a place to be with other people – more on that later, perhaps. And I’m sure those employees were turning off their brains, hoping that would make the time go by faster.

More on Christmas Decay
Yesterday's post, about the Big Letdown After Christmas (and comparing it to the half-life of an extremely unstable atom) got me to thinking about what it was like for me, as a kid, the days after Christmas. I mainly remember being absolutely, totally bored, since there was no school, it was usually cold out, I was sick of my family and the gifts I received were either already built (car and monster models), read (books), listened to until new grooves were worn (vinyl), or eaten (candy, etc.) The tree in the living room suddenly became the Relative That Wouldn't Depart, its glass ornaments and lights somehow reminiscent of a tacky Vegas side street. My parents, who came of age during WWII (The Big One), were used to a certain level of drudgery, and so when December 26 dawned, all festivities were over. I don't remember doing anything that could have prolonged the celebration of the season, and New Year's Eve usually found me sick from a cold or an ear infection.

Sometimes it snowed, which meant sledding, which was fun - except with packed snow got past your mittens and lodged on the underside of your wrist, which got really really cold. We never went anywhere warm during the winter, but we did go skiing for a number of years, which was also fun. Mainly, though, the departure of Christmas meant at least three months of frigid temperatures, various illnesses, steady darkness, and a creeping exhaustion from too much December activity and empty calories.

This year, one of my nephews said, in the middle of the afternoon on Christmas Eve, "This is the longest day of the year!" His dad (one of my brothers) and I told him all about Christmas 1965, emphasizing and exaggerating various deprivations we experienced (black and white TV, 4 TV stations, no seating at McDonald's, unsharpened pencils in our stockings, zero X-NintendoBox.) We told him how great he's got it, and said we could celebrate Christmas 1965 next year. But my nephew's heard this all before about other things in our past (which I take as my duty to tell him) and is unimpressed. Although I do think he's somewhat concerned we might actually show him what it was like Way Back When.

Things have definitely improved now. While I get 99% less presents on Christmas morning, I have options to survive the winter: Atlantis cruises, Fort Lauderdale, alcohol, money. Still, I think my nephews experience some of the letdown at this time of the year that I experienced. And I don't know if that's good or bad.

Half-Life of the Christmas Atom
If Christmas were on the Periodic Table of the Elements, I'm sure it would have an atomic weight somewhere past Uranium. The element is so unstable that it decays to a fraction of its weight in 1/2512 of a second. Check out this post from The Ripple Effect to see what I mean.

We need to do something about this holiday, which bombards us with all manner of exhortations to purchase, acquire and buy, and sells us on a vision of family and togetherness which is either unattainable by many households or makes others feel left out in the cold when it doesn't coincide with their belief systems. I don't know what to do exactly with this blend ritual and tradition begun over 2000 years ago. But something has to be done.

This year, three television ads drove the point home. They're probably the worst, most egregiously sentimental and ear-splittingly awful commercials ever to air on television:

1. Neighbors gather across street to see woman receive gift car with big red bow on top. I'm having trouble locating this online. But maybe it's better that way. I don't remember what car company it's for. I do know that every time I see this ad I wonder "why the hell would neighbors set up lawn chairs merely to watch somebody walk out their door to see a new car?"

2. Celene Dion Under Your Christmas Tree. This one is wrong on so many levels. Hear's one: I keep hearing, after the commercial's over, the dad say to the son "she's your Christmas present boy - have at her!"

3. BMW's screaming child. Corporate groupthink's finest hour. Who at BMW approved this? Does he or she still have a job? There's a new version airing now, the voiceover almost completely covering that heinous child's "enthusiasm." But it's too late. The damage has been done.

Oh the pain. The pain.

Christmas 2.0

From today's New York Times:
"But starting just after Thanksgiving, the designers did their best, first identifying the three chief problems with the brand: it’s divisive, ugly and, of course, overcommercialized. Next they came up with a big idea to try to fix these problems. It was not to rename Christmas, exactly, but to streamline it by creating what might be thought of as an “overall umbrella brand,” Mr. Bierut said, one that sounded contemporary, hip and, most important, Internet-ready: x.mas."

I Finally Get That Flu Shot
I get that flu shot - and then I came down with the Mini-Flu. Fever, aches, massive sinus congestion... I thought "at least it didn't get into my chest" and then, it went into my chest. Coughing. The whole thing. I googled "Cold vs. Flu" and found out the main difference between the two: with a cold, you have massive head congestion. So, while I didn't feel like I was going to die, I did feel pretty lousy. I could get out to the store allright. But when I get sick, at any level, my desire to create goes right down the tubes. I'm still fighting congestion at this point, but I am getting better, and I'm sitting here writing this. But for a clue as to how sick I did feel, consider this: on Sunday, I watched all 12 hours of the Lord of the Rings on TNT. From noon to midnight. And it was pretty entertaining. I watched "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" tonight on CBS, and it was, as always, a moving and sublime experience. Up there with the Mahler 2nd Symphony last night on PBS.

Now That's Real Viral Marketing
Royal Caribbean's Freedom of the Seas (the big boat slated to ferry January 2007's Biggest Gay Cruise in History to sun, surf and sand) just experienced an outbreak of Norovirus. I'm guessing Atlantis will be working extra with Royal Caribbean to make sure an outbreak doesn't occur on our cruise. But just in case they aren't, here are some resources to help everyone's upcoming experience a happy one... and it seems that one of the best ways to keep the microbial spiky golfball from spreading and/or not catch it goes way back to our earliest years - see the "Ounce of Prevention" brochure below...

St. Petersburg Times article "Viruses Board with Passengers"
CDC's FAQ on enteroviruses
CDC's "Ounce of Prevention Brochure"

Ahoy
Been reading all about Citizen Marketers, Viral Marketing, Word of Mouth Marketing - and I've been wondering: what brand/product/company am I so passionate about that I go out of my way to promote? I looked over a previous post in which I listed a bunch of brands in my life and see only one that's turned me into a blathering WOMM -bat.

Atlantis.
As in Atlantis Events.

Some background. For years, friends would go to Provincetown and return with suitcases full of good things to say about the destination at the end of Cape Cod, almost likening it to a gay Disneyland. Friendly people, tons of guys, a whole different world, lots of fun. And so, a couple of years ago, I went there. It was quaint. I bought some clothes. The beach was huge. The Boatslip made these awesome Planter's Punches with 151 poured down the straw - you got blitzed just holding the cup. I ran into a board member from work. Somewhat inebriated, I chatted with John Waters. And I had... just an ok time. We had two days of cold rain. All the bars had cover charges. They closed at 2am. The people? Just kind of friendly.

Last year, I went on my first Atlantis cruise. The Eastern Caribbean, in January. Two nights out, I start throwing up. I collapse. My cabin mate somehow gets me to the infirmary. The doctor sticks IVs in my arms. I'm yelling because I'm in so much pain. Drugs drip in, along with saline. It hurts. I spend the night down there, on deck one, drifting in and out of lucidity. Blanketed, shivering, I pass out into very strange dreams. And it didn't stop there - diagnosed with a stomach virus and severe dehydration, I'm quarantined for three days. I wasn't until the day quarantine lifted that I started feeling better.

I flew home afterward and immediately signed up for the same cruise, scheduled to depart a year later. Then I signed up for another Atlantis cruise, to the Mediterranean.

Why?

Part of me was thinking "I'm getting it right this time." But I also responded to what I was able to enjoy on that unfortunate maiden voyage. Incredible weather. Ports sailing past my balcony. Room service - for free. Even if it was soup and crackers for a couple of days. Tons of friendly guys. And two sets of committed staff (Atlantis and Royal Caribbean) determined to make me feel welcome and eager for me to have fun. Oh, and the infirmary staff was awesome too. One of the nurses was so excited when I was able to get off the boat in Labadee.

Now I've been on three, with the second light years beyond the first and the third even better. But I not only signed up for more cruises - I talked friends into going.

I'll admit to feeling a bit ridiculous, marketing Atlantis cruises like an unpaid ambassador. And here I go, doing it again. Of course, the whole experience isn't all THAT perfect. Meeting a ton of people, one is sure to meet some absolute jerks. But I've only really met one, and I can't blame the companies on that. And while there are all ages and kinds of guys on the boat, the high percentage of stunning hunks can make one feel somewhat inadequate. But Atlantis takes care to address some of these issues on their Web site, and sends out a top ten list of ways to get the most out of the experience. My favorite: "Smile. Say hi to everyone. Be friendly. Go ahead, talk to that cutie who you think would never give you the time of day. You may be pleasantly surprised!"

Maybe it's unfair to compare two radically different vacations. On one, the accomodations stay still, on the other, they move. Or maybe not, considering that neither was a monetary bargain. Sure, there was a ton of acceptance in P-Town - how could there not be, with Commercial Street crawling with us? But on the cruise, I felt as if the world were gay. I've talked up the awesome times I've had with just about anyone who would listen, and I'm wondering how the hell am I going to cope with only one sailing in 2007.

There is one problem, though, that the Atlantis Web site doesn't do a great job of addressing: at the end of the cruise, you have to go home.

Who's the Real Innovator Here?
If you're like me, you've seen that Vehix.com commercial about a hundred too many times. You know the one I'm talking about. The two guys are presenting their ideas on how to improve the Vehix customer experience to their boss. The Geeky Nerdy Unpopular Unattractive (or GNUU) guy comes up with these ridiculous ideas, like supplying a computer screen washing (complete with hunky window cleaning dude rappelling down to squeegee the GNUU's laptop), and replacing the mouse with a steering wheel so the Vehix customers can simulate driving while surfing the site. The co-worker, Mainstream Cute Company Guy Dude (or MCCGD) comes up with online videos showing the cars in action. And to which of them does their boss, Mr. I'm All Muscley Under My Suit, give the approving nod? MCCGD of course. And why shouldn't he?

But there's a big problem here. After seeing these ads a number of times, I'm thinking GNUU is much more creative, willing to go with a new idea even if it isn't immediately applicable or even manageable in the long run. MCCGD just comes up with the same idea, over and over (and over.) He's playing it safe. He wants his bonus, or his raise, or the opportunity to see his boss naked. And it's all too clear that Mr. I'm All Muscley Under My Suit likes MCCGD's one idea because MCCGD is better looking than GNUU. But for my money, I'd pay more attention to GNUU. He's an idea factory. What other ideas does he have jotted down on his yellow legal pad? There's gotta be something that works. And who knows - MCCGD probably stole his one idea from GNUU's thousand.

Living In DC: You Have To
How many times a day, a week, or a month do I hear "you have to..." from store employees and other customer-service front line people as they're about to guide me to what I'm asking for? Much too frequently, I'm finding. Today's incident happened at Kaiser Permanente, where I went for my flu shot.

The guard at the front desk did start promisingly by asking "may I help you?"

"Which floor are the flu shots on?"

"Oh no, they're not doing that anymore. It stopped on the 20th. You have to call your doctor for an appointment."

I'll attempt to be somewhat positive about this, and consider some other responses he could have given me, responses not placing everything on my shoulders, which I feel "You Have To" does.

How about:
"I'm sorry to say the walk-in flu shot clinics are no longer given on the weekends. However, your primary care physician will be glad to make sure you get one. Just call for an appointment. I can give you the phone number if you'd like."

Or:
"Unfortunately, the last weekend clinic was on the 20th. But if you'd like to wait, I can call upstairs and see if there's anyone who can help you."

Or even:
"The last walk-in clinic was on the 20th. But if you go to after-hours care on the third floor, they may be able to help you schedule one for the near future."

Heck, I'd even settle for a "sorry you had to come all this way for nothing" after the original "you have to blah blah blah."

"You have to" says to me "Whatever it is you want, you can't get it here, and even if you can, I'm not going to give more than a bare minimum of help for it, because it's just not my job to help you more than that."

Last week, I got "you have to" at the post office, where I was told "you have to stand over there and put these stamps on the envelopes." I heard it in an office building lobby, when a security guard said "you can't sign in all those people under your name. They have to sign in themselves." And I get it when I'm swiping my debit card at the doctor's office, and the receptionist says "you have to wait until I pull up the program. Try it again."

I'd be glad to. Could you also try again?

The Official Krooz Holiday Wish List
In the spirit of angering a barrista, here is my Official Krooz Holiday Wish List...

This Christmas, I wish:

the earth would receive a message from outer space confirming there's intelligent life elsewhere in the universe...

DC stores, bars, and other services would extend me the same stratospheric level of customer service that I receive from the front desk guys in my office building...

gym memberships and personal training were tax deductible...

for no more Ben Stiller movies...

The HO-HO-HOliday didn't have the stranglehold on the media and the economy it enjoys right now...

classical music would return to WETA-FM...

Kickass Zombie Movie's fourth draft were finished...

Chris Meloni, John Cena, Jason Cameron, or their lookalikes, would chase me down, grab me by the shoulders, and ask me out to dinner (or Starbucks)...

for 27-inch biceps...

there were more cavemen in DC.

Not with a boom, but with a fizzle...
Lately I've had this feeling I'm aging out of the system, and today I read that I'm not the only one. As reported on Five Blogs Before Lunch, a Harris poll found:

...nearly two-thirds of Americans say they believe that most TV programming and advertising is targeted toward people under 40. The study, whose results have been summarized in an AP article, say that more than 80 percent of adults over 40 say they have a hard time finding TV shows that reflect their lives. Thirty-seven percent of baby boomers who responded to the study say they aren't happy with what's on television.

Which probably explains why I keep Turner Classic Movies on all the time.

But this has even deeper ramifications when it comes to the subject of the Aging Gay Man. We're all used to finding the universal (i.e., "somewhat gay") in most television and movies. And we flock approvingly to the few crumbs Hollywood throws our way. But try to find something that speaks to those of us balanced on the pinnacle between 40 and 50, and you come up way way short. Not even our own media helps us, as it's plastered with the young, smooth and nonfat. Where's the big budget movie or weekly TV show featuring GMEA (gay men eating alone), the difficulties with dating after 45, or the pursuit of bodily perfection in the middle age years? It's not that advertisers don't think there's a market for it... it's just that we don't fit into their long-range plans for selling soda.

(I'd even settle, at this point, for a gay character on Jericho, someone who would have to defend being gay in a town that's still doesn't know if there's any civilization left...)

What Story Am I Telling?
Back in 1997, Tom Peters wrote: To be in business today, our most important job is to be head marketer for the brand called You. Well, that's stuck in my head now for 9 years... and only today did I get a full understanding of what he meant (ok, so I'm kind of dumb.) I had an awakening after reading this post by Seth Godin on, of all things, JetBlue and the TSA. In a nutshell, I started asking myself "what story am I telling about myself through my words and actions?" It's the story that enters the room before I do (but doesn't order drinks for both of us.) And whatever story it is, well, that may very well be Brand Mike. Now, after a full day of work (following a full four days off), my brain isn't up to ferreting out all the meanings and examples contained in the statements above. But this combination of ideas is bringing an interesting focus to my thinking, especially about guys. And I'm considering "what kind of image am I projecting" instead of "how can I make myself more attractive?" The second question has lead me to an answer having to do with spending thousands on personal training and hundreds on clothes, protein, and cocktails (alcohol, as we all know, being very beneficial in any thinking process.) I'm not sure what this all means in the long run. I'll have to give it more thought.

The Best Was Yet Last Night

In reviewing Tuesday night's NBC special "Tony Bennett: An American Classic," The Hollywood Reporter quipped: "Bottom Line: The best thing of its sort that you will ever see." And I have to agree. The birthday salute to the 80-year-old "grand old man of pop" was an hour of breeze, on-the-spot and dead-right orchestrations, cool dancing... and an hour too short. My favorite parts: the sixties television studio variety show re-creation (for the song "The Best Is Yet To Come"), and the duet "Just In Time." It was all perfect - and totally devoid of pretension. Just how perfect it was became immensely clear during the Target commercials, which were exceedingly ugly - black and white plus glaring red, featuring all of the singers in the special as if they were photographed by bad pararazzi. Hopefully, NBC will show this again, soon.

Living in DC
I was in Cosi recently, around 2pm on a Wednesday afternoon. I don't frequent the place much, since I take my lunch to work, but I do know they get the customers in and out quickly...if you happen to get there at noon. I had just gotten my Turkey Light with Carrots instead of Chips and went to pay for it. I stood there, in front of the cash register, while four employees behind the counter not only ignored me, they looked at me a couple of times AND THEN went on to ignore me some more. It was like I was traveling at light speed, and the employees were standing still.

A woman walked up beside me, holding a salad, ready to pay. Now there were two of us in the holding pattern.
"This must mean our food is free," said the woman to me.
"I was just thinking the same thing," I said.

Since I had just come from the gym and was hungry and cranky, I took it upon myself to get some service.

I said, in my loudest, reach-to-the-back-of-the-theater voice (trained through singing, radio announcing, and being generally obnoxious):

"HEY, IS THE FOOD HERE FREE THIS AFTERNOON OR DO WE HAVE TO PAY FOR IT?"

My words echoed off the hard tile surfaces.
An employee looked at me.
"I'm sorry sir, but she's counting out the register and leaving and I'm just now coming on."
"So does that mean," I asked, "we have to pay for the food?"
"I said I'm sorry sir, but she's counting out and I'm coming on."
"But does that mean we have to pay?"
Finally, another employee advanced to the cash register.
"May I help you?" he asked.
The woman with the salad looked at me.
"Thank you for doing that," she said.

Whoville
About his high school days, a DC-based blogger wrote:

I remember sitting at a lunch table with the "cool" people one day. One of the "cool" guys leans over to me and says, "Why are you here? No one wants you here." I didn't say anything back. No one else said a word.

I think that concisely describes what many of us in DC still feel, although now we term it "attitude" and somewhat proudly proclaim that DC is filled with it. But how to combat this fear that continues on from our earliest days?

"The Nametag Guy" has an interesting method, and a whole web site on "how maximize personal and professional approachability." Now, I don't intend to start wearing a name tag everywhere. But after last Saturday night's experience at Blowoff, I feel I need to get back on the horse, and I've been online for ideas on bolstering confidence. I've started listing "101 Goals" for 2007, a strategy on The Nametag Guy's site. I've only got 26 so far, and they all seem to be about spending money and... spending money.

Another blogger wrote something about "often, the most interesting person in the room is not the one with the big name," in a post that summarized that we should treat a person as a "who" and not a "what." I wanted to include the actual quote here, but I can't find the page it's on.

More on all of this later, maybe after dinner...

Is It Too Early or Too Late To Be Talking About This?
Is it just me, or is there anyone else out there who has been less-than-satisfied with the DC Gay Pride Parade over the past few years? The June 2006 parade was, for me, a definite case-in-point. A number of gay/lesbian etc etc organizations, strolling down 17th street in loose bunches, some throwing candy, others handing out stickers. A couple of floats. Long stretches of dead street. Those floats, especially, were a big problem for me. How is it that gay men, famous the world over for style, created floats that were not only half-thought, but falling apart as they travelled down the street? And where were the symbols of what there is to be "prideful" about? Maybe we've gone past the time in which merely showing up in public made a powerful political statement. Some may say that the sheer pedestrian-ness of this year's parade shows how far we've come - that we're so mainstream we're boring. I think it's time to re-imagine this whole pride day thing, starting with the parade, and begin thinking about exactly what message we want to send with the event. There's certainly room for a whole spectrum of participant styles. One thing I do know: Dykes on Bykes is just not doing it for me anymore.

PBK Recap
After almost a year of personal training, I've concluded:
1. I have made gains, although they are modest.
2. I would like to continue, but unless I get a better paying job, I'll have to work out on my own starting in 2007.
3. I don't fall in love with every trainer assigned to me.
4. 50-rep squats (no, not all the way) are the most painful exercise ever.
5. Unless I reconfigure my dna, develop a taste for steroids, and work out a stupid number of hours, I'm probably never going to look like JC.

Content Is King
That's what I keep thinking, as I daily avoid writing anything for this blog. But then I consider it like getting up in the morning, and I plug on.

It's Saturday night. This work week has been rough. But I now know what the problem is, after speaking with my co-workers. The problem in noise. Everybody's let their own problems and prejudices grow to deafening decibels. While we each have honest and fair gripes, we all need to realize we are the ones who are going to make it work.

My own difficulties spring from the realization this week that I spend more time having to figure out ways of getting people to give me what I ask for, want and need, which leaves me with zero energy to actually do something concrete (that is, if I have the necessary ingredients to start with, which I don't.)

Enough of that "talking pretty" as Dr. Shrink says. I've told myself that I would go out tonite instead of sitting at home, watching "Little People Big World" and justifying my hermetic existence as genuinely relaxing. I have an event and a location picked out, but it takes a cab to reach and starts very late. Last week I had two, count them, two parties to attend, which were both very fun and filled with people I like. Tonite's location and event is a crapshoot.

I went to Halo last night, and after the second pinappletini did not tell myself that a third would be a good idea. I was alone for half of the first drink, and I thought to myself "DC is no longer working for me" as I waited for the alcohol to produce transcending numbness. Then someone took the enormous chance of talking to me, and I was engaged in conversation with him and a host of others for the rest of the evening.

Living in DC
I go to take my prescription medication two nights ago (hours after picking it up from my health plan's pharmacy) and I notice: the tablets that are normally LARGE and ORANGE are tiny and blue. Last night, after work, I go back to the pharmacy and show them what they gave me. The woman behind the counter shakes her head and gives me a sideways grin that says "boy do we have some winners working here." Probably the wrong image they want to portrary. She goes back into the stacks of drugs and two minutes later returns with the head pharmacist. He hands me a bottle of the correct medication, then asks "you have receipt?"
"No."
"I want to give you something for your trouble. Look. You take Tylenol?"
"Huh?"
"You take Tylenol?"
I look down at his hand, and he's holding out a bottle filled with some type of analgesic. He's showing it to me like a drug dealer shows a kilo*.
"No, I don't want Tylenol."
"Then how about lotion?"
He reaches behind and pulls a tube off the shelf.
"Maybe some hand cream?" he asks, with the same drug-dealer confidence.
"No. I don't want anything. I just want to go home."
"I want to give you something."
"Just tell your people back there to pay attention to what their doing!"
What I want to know is, can I sue them? And, if I can, and I collect, can I then retire?

*Not that I have practical knowledge regarding those sorts of transactions.

The Bland Health People

I hate the Bland Health People. You know who I'm talking about. The people frolicking in prescription drug commercials and bouncing around the pages of your medical plan's quarterly magazine. They're all ages and all races and all sexes (well maybe not ALL sexes) and all so very very... bland. They wear sweaters and ride bikes in their golden years through the perfect autumn woods, they cavort in perfectly turquoise pools, they throw daisies about and sit down to healthy and uncontroversial dinners. You never see any of them actually USING the medications they're representing - they're never standing in their boxers, in the kitchen, rinsing out a glass and measuring out the one or two horse pills they have to swallow. They never throw up, or sneeze, or bleed, or roll around in agony after being thrown from a horse. They never sit uncomfortably on the edge of the examination table, shifting their weight on the crinkly paper, trying to relieve the cramping in their knees as they wait for the physician's assistant or nurse practitioner. And they're never, EVER in the hospital. Not like the real people you see on House or E.R.