Hello any readers.
This blog is over.
I've discovered Tumblr. It's awesome.
I'm now at ronandoyle.tumblr.com
Cheers.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Hipocrisy (and intolerance) is alive and well in the southland.
Recently, a Hardee's franchisee (or, with 250 stores, should I say super-franchisee) has protested the parent company's new ads for donut-hole sized snacks made of biscuit material. The ads, aimed at Hardee's young male "hungry guy" demographic presents a classic taste test between donut holes (labeled A) and biscuit holes (labeled B). Clearly, you'll have people commenting on the taste, size, etc of the A-hole. The commercial features people proclaiming, "The A-hole is nasty" and "the A-hole just tastes funny." Hilarious.
While the ads are intended to entertain audiences to pump up awareness, they have drawn ire from a franchisee in North Carolina. Whether NC's geography in the middle of the Bible belt plays a role in the criticism isn't clearly stated, but seems rather obvious. Either way, the argument gathering more and more press coverage each day, is that the commercials are not healthy for family audiences. No explanation has been offered as to what, exactly, the damage done would entail, but it does beg on glaringly obvious question: How does an organization selling a 1420 calorie burger, have the audacity to criticize words as unhealthy?
That's a lot of balls, biscuit, or otherwise.
While the ads are intended to entertain audiences to pump up awareness, they have drawn ire from a franchisee in North Carolina. Whether NC's geography in the middle of the Bible belt plays a role in the criticism isn't clearly stated, but seems rather obvious. Either way, the argument gathering more and more press coverage each day, is that the commercials are not healthy for family audiences. No explanation has been offered as to what, exactly, the damage done would entail, but it does beg on glaringly obvious question: How does an organization selling a 1420 calorie burger, have the audacity to criticize words as unhealthy?
That's a lot of balls, biscuit, or otherwise.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Psycho Killer? Let’s call this home.
Day one.
Day two, actually.
I woke up this morning for the first time in Marblehead, MA. I got the keys to my new place two days ago, but slept in it for the first time last night. It's a house, not an apartment or condo. It's in an historic town. People drive slower, say hello to each other, dress a little more casual, and are old. Or, well, older.
What the hell have I done?
I’ve lived in major US cities for the past dozen or so years of my life. Five of them, actually. I’ve never been more than 10 steps outside my front door to a view of a skyline. Any skyline. Outside my door this morning was an old picket fence covered in wisteria coming to life as Spring has arrived. But then again, also right outside my door was my car. In my driveway. Right there. Not parked two blocks away. Not requiring moving for street sweeping. Not in danger of getting a ticket, for anything.
I walked down the street (a quaint, winding street crowded with antique homes) to Starbucks. Yup… Starbucks. 35 minutes outside the city - without traffic - and I’ve never lived closer to a Starbucks. It was a quiet walk. There were cars of course. People going to work. But only five or six. It’s a beautiful sunny day, the ocean is close, the feeling of “seaside” is everywhere.
I got my coffee and got settled in a comfy chair near the window at Starbucks. Something seemed different. Something was, in fact, different. A lot of somethings were different. The place was busy, but not packed. The barista was active, but not flustered. And the customers had a very different agenda. There were some housewives enjoying coffee while one of their small kids colored, impressively, inside the lines (I notice these things… could be a future art director). There were some independently wealthy-looking carefree writers ticking away at their laptop keyboards. A milf or two in tennis outfits, and some old folks talking about the weather, painting the deck, and their recent bypass surgeries.
Perhaps it’s a dozen years in the ad business, perhaps I’m uniquely in tune with fashion, or perhaps I’m just a pretentious ass… but the next thing that struck me was the clothing. It all sucked. Well, I’m not saying people were mismatched or slovenly. But they were uninspired. Cheap(ish) jeans. Boat shoes. New Balance running shoes. Not a Prada, Varvatos, or Diesel to be seen. Then I looked down at what I had tossed on before leaving the house. I don’t know if it was laziness, or my surroundings, but I managed to put together an ensemble of jeans, t-shirt, baseball cap and… New Balance running shoes.
This was NOT a Starbucks in the city. Any city. This was… suburbia. And I was just another poorly dressed douche-bag living in it.
Panic. Worry. Fear. Regret. My heart pounded a bit and I wondered, instantly, can I get my money back, cancel my lease, not sell my condo and get back to Boston before lunch?? Probably not. I made my bed, now I have to sleep in it. In the damned peaceful silence of Marblehead. And I have to hang around with these people. These really…. old people. No one is talking about how hung-over they are. No one looks to be doing the walk of shame. No one seems to have any great purpose at all. And that is not okay. Not okay at all.
One person in particular is freaking me out. A woman. An out of shape young mom. Her clothing is tossed on, and I’ll be my last dime that the Chrysler Town & Country parked outside the window is hers. Who is this woman? At a glance, I would guess she might actually be my age, perhaps a year or two older. And we couldn’t possibly have less in common. What fills her days? Her thoughts? Is everyone up here going to be this lame?
Then a song came on. Psycho Killer. Out of shape mom began to bob her head and sing the lyrics. She turned to her 3 year old and said, “This is the Talking Heads. Good beat, huh?”
Maybe, just maybe, this is going to be okay after all. Maybe, just maybe, this is going to be home
.
Yup. She got in the Town & Country. Let’s just take this one day at a time.
Day two, actually.
I woke up this morning for the first time in Marblehead, MA. I got the keys to my new place two days ago, but slept in it for the first time last night. It's a house, not an apartment or condo. It's in an historic town. People drive slower, say hello to each other, dress a little more casual, and are old. Or, well, older.
What the hell have I done?
I’ve lived in major US cities for the past dozen or so years of my life. Five of them, actually. I’ve never been more than 10 steps outside my front door to a view of a skyline. Any skyline. Outside my door this morning was an old picket fence covered in wisteria coming to life as Spring has arrived. But then again, also right outside my door was my car. In my driveway. Right there. Not parked two blocks away. Not requiring moving for street sweeping. Not in danger of getting a ticket, for anything.
I walked down the street (a quaint, winding street crowded with antique homes) to Starbucks. Yup… Starbucks. 35 minutes outside the city - without traffic - and I’ve never lived closer to a Starbucks. It was a quiet walk. There were cars of course. People going to work. But only five or six. It’s a beautiful sunny day, the ocean is close, the feeling of “seaside” is everywhere.
I got my coffee and got settled in a comfy chair near the window at Starbucks. Something seemed different. Something was, in fact, different. A lot of somethings were different. The place was busy, but not packed. The barista was active, but not flustered. And the customers had a very different agenda. There were some housewives enjoying coffee while one of their small kids colored, impressively, inside the lines (I notice these things… could be a future art director). There were some independently wealthy-looking carefree writers ticking away at their laptop keyboards. A milf or two in tennis outfits, and some old folks talking about the weather, painting the deck, and their recent bypass surgeries.
Perhaps it’s a dozen years in the ad business, perhaps I’m uniquely in tune with fashion, or perhaps I’m just a pretentious ass… but the next thing that struck me was the clothing. It all sucked. Well, I’m not saying people were mismatched or slovenly. But they were uninspired. Cheap(ish) jeans. Boat shoes. New Balance running shoes. Not a Prada, Varvatos, or Diesel to be seen. Then I looked down at what I had tossed on before leaving the house. I don’t know if it was laziness, or my surroundings, but I managed to put together an ensemble of jeans, t-shirt, baseball cap and… New Balance running shoes.
This was NOT a Starbucks in the city. Any city. This was… suburbia. And I was just another poorly dressed douche-bag living in it.
Panic. Worry. Fear. Regret. My heart pounded a bit and I wondered, instantly, can I get my money back, cancel my lease, not sell my condo and get back to Boston before lunch?? Probably not. I made my bed, now I have to sleep in it. In the damned peaceful silence of Marblehead. And I have to hang around with these people. These really…. old people. No one is talking about how hung-over they are. No one looks to be doing the walk of shame. No one seems to have any great purpose at all. And that is not okay. Not okay at all.
One person in particular is freaking me out. A woman. An out of shape young mom. Her clothing is tossed on, and I’ll be my last dime that the Chrysler Town & Country parked outside the window is hers. Who is this woman? At a glance, I would guess she might actually be my age, perhaps a year or two older. And we couldn’t possibly have less in common. What fills her days? Her thoughts? Is everyone up here going to be this lame?
Then a song came on. Psycho Killer. Out of shape mom began to bob her head and sing the lyrics. She turned to her 3 year old and said, “This is the Talking Heads. Good beat, huh?”
Maybe, just maybe, this is going to be okay after all. Maybe, just maybe, this is going to be home
.
Yup. She got in the Town & Country. Let’s just take this one day at a time.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
It's a good thing we're learning. Too bad we've learned nothing.
When this US-lead, global economic disaster of epic proportions first came to light back in the Fall, and was subsequently explained to us in the months that followed, I had only one fear -- that we, the people, would learn nothing from it. Today, those fears just may be realized.
I've always been a hope-for-the-best, plan-for-the-worst, worry-about-every-contingency kinda guy. I worry myself to death sometimes. One would think that the upside is that I'm never shocked, and never disappointed. Sadly, this isn't true. I worry about the worst-case-scenario, yes. But deep down inside I'm secretly, or foolishly, convinced that it will all be okay, and when it isn't, I simply cannot believe it.
It's this eternal (albeit buried) optimistm that has felt that perhaps this economy is the best thing that ever happened to America. That we were going to come through it in a grand Darwinian manner a stronger, more thoughtful, and far more intelligent nation. I felt that we would learn something, above all else, and profit from our mistakes, not drown in them.
It's no secret to anyone now how this happened. Wall Street greed moved from it's imaginary money system of hypotheticals and intangibles and slid its sticky hand into our most solid and tangible wealth-building tool.... real property. They bundled mortgages for profit, eliminated any requirements whatsoever, and sent the US, and in turn, the world into the abyss. They screwed up one of the biggest no-brainers in the investment world by taking something as solid as a foundation, and in fact, foundations themselves, and piled on a heavy helping of risk. And, sadly, their bet did not pay off.
In a nutshell, in order to have something to sell, we gave houses to people who have NO business buying houses. And what America got in return was just a house of cards. Fine. Stupid move, Wall St. But, it's out in the open and you've been scolded. You've devastated the global economy... but hey... that's water under the bridge. We learned a lesson, let's move on.
It has been my belief, at least in the past month or so, that we've turned the corner, reached bottom, and are on our way out. We learned our lesson and will build a stronger, better, more powerful and thoughful America. Then I heard a Ford commercial and realized we've learned absolutely nothing at all.
We got into this mess by giving houses to people who could not afford them. Now, we're about to do the same with cars. Foolishly purchasing life's biggest ticket item ruined the world, now we're ready to try the experiment with big ticket #2.
It began innocently enough. Hyundai created a great campaign called "Hyundai Assurance" in which Hyundai will buy back your new car if you lose your job. Great! Excellent plan. But then Saturn decided to get into it, and kinda fucked it all up. (big shock coming from GM. After all, they're the company that gave us the Pontiac Aztek. Track record for solid thinking is NOT very impressive). Saturn mocked Hyundai and said they would make the payments for 9 months if you lost your job. Okay... now we have a pissing contest.
Then, last night, I heard a Ford commercial that urged people to get out there and buy cars and if they lose their job Ford will not take the car back, not pay for 9 months, but make the payments for ONE YEAR. Really? One of the Big 3 Automakers, who sat before congress not 3 months ago begging for help, was now going to make our car payments for us. Essentially, in order to try and make money, we're now going to give cars to people who HAVE NO BUSINESS BUYING CARS.
THAT'S America's solution. We created the world economic crisis by having people who can't afford houses, buy them. And our answer to that is to have people who can't afford cars buy them. If there's actually intelligent thought, or logic, or reason, or a well thought out plan behind this... I would LOVE to hear it. But all I think I'll hear, is crickets.
I've always been a hope-for-the-best, plan-for-the-worst, worry-about-every-contingency kinda guy. I worry myself to death sometimes. One would think that the upside is that I'm never shocked, and never disappointed. Sadly, this isn't true. I worry about the worst-case-scenario, yes. But deep down inside I'm secretly, or foolishly, convinced that it will all be okay, and when it isn't, I simply cannot believe it.
It's this eternal (albeit buried) optimistm that has felt that perhaps this economy is the best thing that ever happened to America. That we were going to come through it in a grand Darwinian manner a stronger, more thoughtful, and far more intelligent nation. I felt that we would learn something, above all else, and profit from our mistakes, not drown in them.
It's no secret to anyone now how this happened. Wall Street greed moved from it's imaginary money system of hypotheticals and intangibles and slid its sticky hand into our most solid and tangible wealth-building tool.... real property. They bundled mortgages for profit, eliminated any requirements whatsoever, and sent the US, and in turn, the world into the abyss. They screwed up one of the biggest no-brainers in the investment world by taking something as solid as a foundation, and in fact, foundations themselves, and piled on a heavy helping of risk. And, sadly, their bet did not pay off.
In a nutshell, in order to have something to sell, we gave houses to people who have NO business buying houses. And what America got in return was just a house of cards. Fine. Stupid move, Wall St. But, it's out in the open and you've been scolded. You've devastated the global economy... but hey... that's water under the bridge. We learned a lesson, let's move on.
It has been my belief, at least in the past month or so, that we've turned the corner, reached bottom, and are on our way out. We learned our lesson and will build a stronger, better, more powerful and thoughful America. Then I heard a Ford commercial and realized we've learned absolutely nothing at all.
We got into this mess by giving houses to people who could not afford them. Now, we're about to do the same with cars. Foolishly purchasing life's biggest ticket item ruined the world, now we're ready to try the experiment with big ticket #2.
It began innocently enough. Hyundai created a great campaign called "Hyundai Assurance" in which Hyundai will buy back your new car if you lose your job. Great! Excellent plan. But then Saturn decided to get into it, and kinda fucked it all up. (big shock coming from GM. After all, they're the company that gave us the Pontiac Aztek. Track record for solid thinking is NOT very impressive). Saturn mocked Hyundai and said they would make the payments for 9 months if you lost your job. Okay... now we have a pissing contest.
Then, last night, I heard a Ford commercial that urged people to get out there and buy cars and if they lose their job Ford will not take the car back, not pay for 9 months, but make the payments for ONE YEAR. Really? One of the Big 3 Automakers, who sat before congress not 3 months ago begging for help, was now going to make our car payments for us. Essentially, in order to try and make money, we're now going to give cars to people who HAVE NO BUSINESS BUYING CARS.
THAT'S America's solution. We created the world economic crisis by having people who can't afford houses, buy them. And our answer to that is to have people who can't afford cars buy them. If there's actually intelligent thought, or logic, or reason, or a well thought out plan behind this... I would LOVE to hear it. But all I think I'll hear, is crickets.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Why not take the bucket out of list?
In the 15 years since graduating from college I have lived in six states, five major cities, owned several homes, moved 10 times and am in the process of doing it all over again. At the moment I’m lamenting the fact that U-Haul doesn’t have one of those buy-10-get-one-free punch cards. It would be an understatement to say that I’m pretty familiar with change, with adaptation and with leaving things behind. My current move won’t have a lot of that. I’m actually just going across town. But I’ve certainly had my fair share of good-byes. I’ve done the three week, two week, five day and 24 hour countdown to leaving a place behind many times. And while I’m not doing that this time, I’m watching someone else do it, and it looks quite different from the other side.
Someone very close to me is moving. But she’s not moving a few minutes down the road. She’s moving clear across the country, trading the Atlantic for the Pacific, leaving the snow of New England for the fog of San Francisco, going from the Bay State to the Bay Area.
After a lifetime of living within 20 miles of Boston, everything familiar will be gone. And with it, a lot of favorite things, favorite places and favorite people will no longer be around. To help deal with this she created a Boston Bucket List. She’s frantically, yet methodically trying to cross of as many of the things she wanted to do around Boston as she can before it’s time to leave... in 10 days.
She has kayaked on the Charles River, attended going-away parties, done pub crawls of parts of town she didn’t know, gotten in some last minute Red Sox games, eaten at some fun and unique restaurants, and the list goes on. She’s doing a lot of really fun and exciting things here in Boston. Some for the last time, and some, oddly, for the first. In my opinion, despite the nostalgia overload, it’s the best way to say good-bye to a place you truly consider home.
But, as I sit here writing this at a café, enjoying the magnolia trees in bloom, the warm spring air, the breeze off the Charles I can’t help but think that I want to get on a bucket list of my own – and I’m not going anywhere. Well, I’m not going far.
Why do we leave so many things undone? It’s the nature of people to procrastinate, sure. Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow. After all, I’m writing this instead of the freelance assignment I should be writing. It’s a gorgeous day out on the best weather weekend of the year. Were it not for the aforementioned freelance assignment I’ve got to get to I would get off this computer and get out there in my city. I would kayak on the Charles, or take a duck boat tour or bike down to Castle Island and watch planes take off from Logan. Who knows if I’ll leave Boston someday. I’ve done six states already, it’s certainly not inconceivable to think I could do some more. And if that day comes (for me, or for you) I don’t want to have only a few weeks to do all the things I’ve left undone.
I think that we should all make our bucket lists today. We don’t have to get to every item on them… but we should know what they are. There’ll be quite days, lazy weekends and ineveitable boredom. But we’ll all have that list. Taped to the fridge, framed on the wall, or maybe folded up and tucked in our wallets. And we’ll find some time when we have nothing to do, and there it’ll be, full of great suggestions.
Item #1 on my list? Make a Boston Bucket List.
Look... I'm already crossing things off.
Someone very close to me is moving. But she’s not moving a few minutes down the road. She’s moving clear across the country, trading the Atlantic for the Pacific, leaving the snow of New England for the fog of San Francisco, going from the Bay State to the Bay Area.
After a lifetime of living within 20 miles of Boston, everything familiar will be gone. And with it, a lot of favorite things, favorite places and favorite people will no longer be around. To help deal with this she created a Boston Bucket List. She’s frantically, yet methodically trying to cross of as many of the things she wanted to do around Boston as she can before it’s time to leave... in 10 days.
She has kayaked on the Charles River, attended going-away parties, done pub crawls of parts of town she didn’t know, gotten in some last minute Red Sox games, eaten at some fun and unique restaurants, and the list goes on. She’s doing a lot of really fun and exciting things here in Boston. Some for the last time, and some, oddly, for the first. In my opinion, despite the nostalgia overload, it’s the best way to say good-bye to a place you truly consider home.
But, as I sit here writing this at a café, enjoying the magnolia trees in bloom, the warm spring air, the breeze off the Charles I can’t help but think that I want to get on a bucket list of my own – and I’m not going anywhere. Well, I’m not going far.
Why do we leave so many things undone? It’s the nature of people to procrastinate, sure. Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow. After all, I’m writing this instead of the freelance assignment I should be writing. It’s a gorgeous day out on the best weather weekend of the year. Were it not for the aforementioned freelance assignment I’ve got to get to I would get off this computer and get out there in my city. I would kayak on the Charles, or take a duck boat tour or bike down to Castle Island and watch planes take off from Logan. Who knows if I’ll leave Boston someday. I’ve done six states already, it’s certainly not inconceivable to think I could do some more. And if that day comes (for me, or for you) I don’t want to have only a few weeks to do all the things I’ve left undone.
I think that we should all make our bucket lists today. We don’t have to get to every item on them… but we should know what they are. There’ll be quite days, lazy weekends and ineveitable boredom. But we’ll all have that list. Taped to the fridge, framed on the wall, or maybe folded up and tucked in our wallets. And we’ll find some time when we have nothing to do, and there it’ll be, full of great suggestions.
Item #1 on my list? Make a Boston Bucket List.
Look... I'm already crossing things off.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
A quick fix? Maybe a quick snip?
I have been amazed, saddened, impressed and often shocked at the lengths that people will go to to survive a tough economy. Plato stated that necessity is the mother of invention. I've revised it slightly, to better stress the urgency of our world, to emergency is the mother of invention. And to realize it's true, just pick up a paper (are those still being printed?), click over to CNN.com, or turn on any TV or radio. There's something new and interesting every single day.
Many people, out of work and being pushed out of their industries have struck out on their own with the will and determination of an entrepreneurial spirit. To them, I wish the best of luck. After all, I'm sorta one of them.
Sadly, one man actually shot and killed himself and his family after he and his wife both lost their jobs, and were facing financial ruin.
And on a positive note, some folks have gone 180 on this economy and switched to a life of volunteerism and giving. Think about it... join the Peace Corps and you'll be fed and housed (even if it is a mud hut) and you'll have two years of the best health coverage around -- if you get a boo boo the US Air Force will pick you up, and fly you a hospital. Can't really beat that with an HMO.
I even know of one guy who joined the Army. Really.
No job. Crappy prospects. Perhaps a bit too much anger to go the Peace Corps route. So he went for the other "room and board included" option. Though, this one comes with the added bonus of being able to shoot someone. Maybe. Hopefully not.
Yes, sir. Americans are a pretty impressive, pretty resilient and pretty inventive bunch. But today I read about another growing phenomenon of our “worst since the depression” economy. Vasectomies. The old snip-a-roo. Or would that be snip-snip-a-roo? While it sounds a bit reactionary, it makes perfect sense. It’s a simple outpatient procedure, and it’s the cheapest form of permanent birth control available.
Doctors at the Cleveland Clinic noticed that while businesses everywhere were suffering, their particular specialty was on the upswing. Then, upon a little further investigation they realized it began in November of 2008 (after the worst month Wall St has seen in decades), and has risen nearly 50% since. That’s huge. Colossal. Hard to imagine any business growing by 50% these days.
Perhaps there’s a sadness to it if you think that some of those people want more children, but can’t see how to afford them. But maybe it’s a brilliant example of Darwinism at its best. After all… people are living longer. We do have a population-growth-to-know-resources imbalance that doesn’t look promising for the future. And, there are fewer jobs than workers looking for them. Fewer people does sound like a great idea. But only if it could happen now. Down the road, this is gonna suck. A lot.
Sure, the impact will take a generation (or two) to really notice, but won’t that mean that when we’re all old, there’ll be far fewer people coming behind us to fill our jobs, provide the resources we need, and take care of us? People will be in great demand, jobs will be abundant (but then, so will the work) and we will be a far more efficient population. But we’ll also be pretty top heavy. And with the Boomers fillin’ up retirement communities and looking for someone to provide their 15 pills a day, we’re already seeing how the imbalance can upset things.
So, while there are lots of impressive, innovative and downright insane ways to help lower expense and brace for some rough times, we’re once again failing to look forward and see what impact we might have. After all, someone’s going to have to change my diaper in 50 or 60 years.
Many people, out of work and being pushed out of their industries have struck out on their own with the will and determination of an entrepreneurial spirit. To them, I wish the best of luck. After all, I'm sorta one of them.
Sadly, one man actually shot and killed himself and his family after he and his wife both lost their jobs, and were facing financial ruin.
And on a positive note, some folks have gone 180 on this economy and switched to a life of volunteerism and giving. Think about it... join the Peace Corps and you'll be fed and housed (even if it is a mud hut) and you'll have two years of the best health coverage around -- if you get a boo boo the US Air Force will pick you up, and fly you a hospital. Can't really beat that with an HMO.
I even know of one guy who joined the Army. Really.
No job. Crappy prospects. Perhaps a bit too much anger to go the Peace Corps route. So he went for the other "room and board included" option. Though, this one comes with the added bonus of being able to shoot someone. Maybe. Hopefully not.
Yes, sir. Americans are a pretty impressive, pretty resilient and pretty inventive bunch. But today I read about another growing phenomenon of our “worst since the depression” economy. Vasectomies. The old snip-a-roo. Or would that be snip-snip-a-roo? While it sounds a bit reactionary, it makes perfect sense. It’s a simple outpatient procedure, and it’s the cheapest form of permanent birth control available.
Doctors at the Cleveland Clinic noticed that while businesses everywhere were suffering, their particular specialty was on the upswing. Then, upon a little further investigation they realized it began in November of 2008 (after the worst month Wall St has seen in decades), and has risen nearly 50% since. That’s huge. Colossal. Hard to imagine any business growing by 50% these days.
Perhaps there’s a sadness to it if you think that some of those people want more children, but can’t see how to afford them. But maybe it’s a brilliant example of Darwinism at its best. After all… people are living longer. We do have a population-growth-to-know-resources imbalance that doesn’t look promising for the future. And, there are fewer jobs than workers looking for them. Fewer people does sound like a great idea. But only if it could happen now. Down the road, this is gonna suck. A lot.
Sure, the impact will take a generation (or two) to really notice, but won’t that mean that when we’re all old, there’ll be far fewer people coming behind us to fill our jobs, provide the resources we need, and take care of us? People will be in great demand, jobs will be abundant (but then, so will the work) and we will be a far more efficient population. But we’ll also be pretty top heavy. And with the Boomers fillin’ up retirement communities and looking for someone to provide their 15 pills a day, we’re already seeing how the imbalance can upset things.
So, while there are lots of impressive, innovative and downright insane ways to help lower expense and brace for some rough times, we’re once again failing to look forward and see what impact we might have. After all, someone’s going to have to change my diaper in 50 or 60 years.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
The times, the are a changin'.
I write ads for a living. Or, I guess at the moment, I don't. But that's my profession. Some print, a lot of online stuff, and a handful of TV commercials as well.
Let me repeat that. I write TV commercials. And I DVR my shows, and I fast forward through the commercials. And today, for the first time ever, I fast forwarded through one of MY commercials. After all, I wrote it, I didn't need to see it. But the bigger message is that while TV advertising isn't dead, or necessarily dying, it's changing. Filming, editing, etc will live on. But seeing that stuff on our favorite shows? I'm not so sure.
Let me repeat that. I write TV commercials. And I DVR my shows, and I fast forward through the commercials. And today, for the first time ever, I fast forwarded through one of MY commercials. After all, I wrote it, I didn't need to see it. But the bigger message is that while TV advertising isn't dead, or necessarily dying, it's changing. Filming, editing, etc will live on. But seeing that stuff on our favorite shows? I'm not so sure.
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