Selling My Crap on eBay, Day 8: Critters from my checkered past

This is Day 8 of a 21-day series. For more scoop on the who/what/why, go here.

It's not that I've led a particularly accomplished life, or a notable one, or even a weird one. But I have paid some attention to the bizarre way in which my life seems to loop back on itself, how I'll do a thing or be in a place, not really thinking a thing of it, and let it go completely (startlingly easy to do with a crappy memory and short attention span), only to find myself somehow enmeshed in it again.

Take Michael Jordan, for example.

As I explained earlier, back in the early 1990s, I wrote a series of commercials that Michael Jordan starred in, not during the four years I wrote Gatorade ads, which Michael Jordan ultimately also became a spokesperson for, but after being randomly assigned to a Wheaties clusterfuck at an agency I was freelancing at in Chicago to help finance the life The Chief Atheist and I were trying to carve out for ourselves in Los Angeles.¹

We'd moved to Los Angeles mostly on hope, but with one job: mine, co-writing a kind of nifty children's show teaching kids about the arts in a fun, engaging way.² I'd gotten through my friend, George, who sold ABC on the pilot based on the bang-up job he'd done with Bugs Bunny on Broadway, a gig which had brought him into close proximity and friendship with Chuck Jones, one of the key animators of Bugs Bunny and friends, and the subject of a rather fawning documentary for which The Chief Atheist and I wrote lyrics to a heartfelt but saccharine anthem. (Stay with me, please.)

The pilot was wonderful, so of course, they killed it dead, and, job and money run out, I began flying back and forth to Chicago, doing the ad gigs in between classes at The Groundlings. One of the perks of being a Groundling is that you end up automagically shortlisted to audition for all kinds of gigs: I booked my first two tiny TV roles this way, as well as a voiceover gig playing an animated character in Space Jam, the new combo animated/live-action offering from Warner Bros. starring, you guessed it, Bugs Bunny & friends, as well as basketball legend Michael Jordan.³

You see? Random, random and weird.

The cel pictured here is signed (by Chuck Jones) and numbered. In other words, it's not a super-valuable old cel from a Bugs Bunny cartoon, but it is a bona-fide Chuck Jones cel, even if it features characters that were never actually made into cartoons for public consumption. Much like the Wheaties shoot, certain key players from the Chuck Jones biopic/lovefest were gifted with them after the show wrapped.

As nice as it has been, owning a piece of minor cartoon history, I'm just not a cartoon kinda gal, at least, not when it comes to hanging art on the wall. (The Chief Atheist and I did get a really nice cel from a Beavis and Butthead cartoon for our wedding, but he retained possession after the divorce.)

Are you a fan of Chuck Jones? Or is someone you know? This charming piece of history can be yours for a very modest price.

And we'll throw in all the random, intertwined weirdness, no charge!

xxx
c

Interested? Contact my 'tater (miz.tater AT gmail DOT com) ASAP, this baby goes up on eBay in five days!

¹Side note of random weirdness, #1:During one of our frequent post-editing cocktail sessions, the freelance producer and I figured out that shortly after I moved out of our house in Evanston to go to college, he became the tenant in our coach house out back.

²Side note of random weirdness, #2: little Brandi Norwood, who would go on to become Brandi, was one of the stars, in one of her first gigs.

³Side note of random weirdness, #3: While I barely introduced to him during my audition and was directed in all of my VO work by producer Ivan Reitman (who is totally nice and awesome), this means I did technically work on a Joe Pytka film. This is after working on a Joe Pytka commercial for Gatorade (without Michael Jordan) as a writer, during which I never met him, because I didn't travel to L.A. for the shoot, and before working on two Joe Pytka commercials (for IBM and Sony), where I did finally meet him, and during which he was every bit as terrifying as he was purported to be, but only ever gracious with me. Thank GOD, because I am a delicate f*cking flower.

Selling My Crap on eBay, Day 7: Globes! Globes! Globes! (black edition)

This is Day 7 of a 21-day series. For more scoop on the who/what/why, go here. For more detail on the whole, freaky globe-fixation thing, go here.

In terms of value, this is hands-down the crème de la crème of the globe collection I'm currently selling off.

Black globes are rarer than their blueish counterparts, and this one sports an even-rarer Art Deco chrome base in the (rarer still) shape of an airplane. Alas, the globe itself has sustained some damage over the years; the chrome is pitted in places, and parts of the glossy surface are cracked and peeling, no doubt the fault of the careless owner, who is a shameful and constant reminder to herself that she is why she cannot have nice things.

Well, that, and she lives in Earthquake Countryâ„¢.

Come on, though. You know you want it! Make the 'tater an offer! She is highly motivated, as she only has so many cubbies in her attractive built-in unit (not a metaphor!) and is a big reader and collector of other stuff.

And me? I would like to be 12" and one chrome airplane lighter, with a little gas money to get me to wherever I'm headed next.

xxx
c

No, seriously. You WANT THIS GLOBE. Email the 'tater (miz.tater AT gmail DOT com) right now! Operators are standing by!

Selling My Crap on eBay, Day 6: Globes! Globes! Globes! (regular edition)

This is Day 6 of a 21-day series. For more scoop on the who/what/why, go here. For more detail on the whole, freaky globe-fixation thing, go here.

If you're a traditionalist, today's installment in the globe pantheon might be for you.

This particular globe was purchased from a vendor at the legendary Kane County Flea Market, a semi-rural county which borders on suburban DuPage County and is home to a Tevatron particle accelerator, a major league farm team and a really, really good frozen custard stand whose name I (fortunately) cannot recall.

While there's nothing strictly valuable about this one, I always admired the soothing shade of aqua the makers chose for the oceans, the land-mass tones of yellow, pink and lavender, and the Deco-y base. It looks very handsome on its own, as you can see here, on (temporary) display in the built-ins Chez 'Tater. (Here it is in context of the communicatrix and its globe brethren.)

We will let this go for a song, the 'tater and I, shipping/handling and a nominal something, as befits an objet so lovingly carted halfway across (sorry!) the globe.

xxx
c

Make an offer in the comments, or email the 'tater (miz.tater AT gmail DOT com) to GET IT NOW, before the grubby eBayers get their mitts on it.

Selling My Crap on eBay, Day 5: Globes! Globes! Globes! (big-ass edition)

This is Day 5 of a 21-day series. For more scoop on the who/what/why, go here.

My move from New York City back to Chicago in 1986 marked the beginning of the end of many things for me: the belief, held firmly in my heart since I was 16, that I would marry the man I'd been carrying a torch for since I spied him across the room at a summer party in the city; the rather odd notion that my life would somehow magically unfold in a perfect and sensible way without any active planning and effort on my part to be its steward; and mostly, any illusions that advertising was a viable career path for me.

Never was I more miserable than that year I spent shuttling between corporate housing, my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend's cement-modern apartment on the fringes of newly-developing downtown, and the job that brought me to my knees and broke my spirit. I was still another year away from meeting my first-shrink-slash-astrologer, but a few things mercifully intervened to help save me from complete despair, the fantastic apartment I finally found, carved out of a corner of the old Delano mansion; the Kalamata chicken at Athenian room; a few patient old friends and a few REALLY patient new ones, but I freely admit that most of the time, I filled that gaping void inside me with cigarettes and shopping.

I was an equal-opportunity shopper, provided there was a deal involved (never pay retail!); some seven years later, out of that particular funk, I remember marveling (with some attendant nausea, given my now-reduced circumstances) over the considerable quantity of cash I'd blown on crap like purses, CDs and full-head highlights. I spent $400 to frame a transit ad of Clarence Clemons I'd created during my salad days as a "wunderkind" (Adweek's words, not mine), which my then-boyfriend, partial to loft-like spaces (but not currently living in one himself) urged me on to do, saying it would make my living room of my converted Delano pad. It did, but it did nothing for the pre-war condo I ended up buying a year later, and pretty much moldered in storage spaces for various moves until I gave it up during the last one.

My very favorite places to shop, though, were flea markets. There is something incredibly soothing about sifting through old junk for treasures, and the Chicago area in the late 1980s was ideally located for sifting; the city had enough people with money and interest in collecting to attract the vagabonds who combed the Midwest countryside for what sensible people in a pre-eBay world called "junk," and everyone knows the only thing better than junk is junk that will fetch a price. The vagabonds, with more time than money, bought low and sold high; we city suckers came with small bills and left with treasures we felt better about for the haggling. It kind of worked for everyone for a while.

This is how I furnished much of my new home: the set of schoolroom-style chairs; the chrome-trimmed kitchen table I parked them around; the antique maps and advertising clock (3-V cola, for Vim, Vigor and Vitality!) that became my wall art; and of course, the two Schaeffer pen-display cases that ended up filled with knick-knacks and glassware, and supporting a small part of my eventually-vast collection of antique globes.

Once you own two of something, you see, you will inevitably end up owning many. A collection provides you with focus, and a job; it also gives friends and family easy gift ideas. I ended up with everything from World's Fair globe salt-and-pepper shakers to an acrylic, two-piece globe terrarium, the latter of which ended up housing my signed Michael Jordan basketball after I managed to kill all the plant life inside.

My collection is down to the bare bones now. The Chief Atheist persuaded me to offload roughly half of the actual world globes before our move to Los Angeles in 1992, saying (rightfully) that each one of those goddamned things took up an entire box. Brooks helped me to further winnow down the collection earlier this year; some lucky Goodwill shopper in Glendale struck paydirt.

I've decided it's time to let go of the rest now. Because I am feeling the need to be more mobile than I've been in 18 years, and I'm feeling less like I need the globes, however beautiful they are (and trust me, they are beautiful, especially together!), to define me.

This large, schoolroom globe is the first one I'm putting on the block. It is, large. You can inquire with the 'tater as to actual dimensions (miz.tater AT gmail DOT com) or bug me here and maybe she'll post them to the comments thread. We are doing this loosely, the 'tater and I. (I imagine the dimensions will definitely be up on the eBay listing, if you want to risk waiting.)

The globe appears to have been purchased by the Davis County school system for a school in Bloomfield, Iowa. I have left the remnants of the sticker on because that kind of stuff is way cool to me, but I'm guessing it will come off with Goo Gone or lighter fluid, name yer poison, if you're super-neat and orderly-like. It was not the costliest of the globes, but it is the one I would have kept, because it is the coolest. It would be REALLY cool if someone from Bloomfield, Iowa bought it and brought it back home, but it will look good in any loving home or office. (It's missing far too many African countries to be of much use anymore in a classroom situation, except as historical context.)

Unlike most globes I have seen, this one does not have an axis it rotates on. It is free! And loose! If you have issues with disorder, this may be a problem for you. But if you truly like globes, you'll love this one.

And if you don't, be careful, this could be your gateway globe.

xxx
c

This big-ass globe from the Davis County school system, Bloomfield, Iowa division, can be yours, wherever you live if it is in the lower 48! (I think shipping gets prohibitive otherwise, but you can inquire if you really, really want it sent to you in Hilo or Homer.) Email the 'tater, miz.tater AT gmail DOT com, and make an offer!

Selling My Crap on eBay, Day 4: #$@% Mobile Me!

This is Day 4 of a 21-day series. For more scoop on the who/what/why, go here.

You read the calendar reminder you remembered to set for yourself a year ago: your subscription to MobileMe, née "dot-Mac," is due for renewal. You think about what else you could do with $99; you think about how much of a pain sync is with it, and refuse to contemplate life without it. Plus, there's all that crap you'd have to clear off of your slice of Apple's big Hard Drive in the Clouds.

You decide to do a little sleuthing online. Surely, there are other nerds, smarter nerds, who have had this same thought.

There are! (And quit calling them "Shirley.") You read up on the how-tos, especially Dave Taylor's. Then you go on eBay, find the most reputable-looking seller of boxed MobileMe subscriptions, and BUY IT NOW. It arrives in plenty of time for you to forget all about it and let #$@% MobileMe renew itself automagically on your credit card for another #$@% year.

Disgusted, you toss your brand-new, unopened MobileMe subscription package into the "to sell" box for your 'tater to sell for pennies on the dollar.

And next year, you vow to stay on top of this sh*t. Finally.

xxx
c

MobileMe for less than Apple's outrageous $99/year? You bet, ask Dave Taylor! Then email my 'tater, miz.tater AT gmail DOT com, with an offer. Pretty much any offer. I'd really rather put this behind me, and not have it mocking me on eBay. And tell your nerd friends on Facebook, Twitter, whatever, no reasonable (nerd) offer refused!

Oh, and the next item will go up on Monday, the 20th. My 'tater is great, but she likes taking weekends off. Crazy 'tater!

Selling My Crap on eBay, Day 3: At your (mid-century) service!

This is Day 3 of a 21-day series. For more scoop on the who/what/why, go here.

In the grand tradition of one's blessing being one's curse, I am my grandparents' granddaughter. And my grandparents were fabulous, make no mistake. Stylish? Check. Worldly? Check and check. Self-effacing sense of humor? That would be a check, please.

My Gram and Gramps were the most loving, constant source of goodness in my life for most of my life. They adored me for the usual reasons grandparents adore grandchildren, and probably especially because they had always wanted tons of kids themselves, but were only blessed with my dad. They had to wait 30 more years for another bundle of dumpling fat to shower all that pent-up love upon, and then, because I was an only grandchild for five long years, they showered me with it like I was the desert and their job was to turn me into a verdant field.

I spent many, many weekends with them when I was small, playing all kinds of crazy games, reading all kinds of crazy books, dancing to all kinds of crazy music. They took me to matinees, to tea at Marshall Fields in the Loop, to fine Continental dinners at the Wrigley Building restaurant, where I washed down Dover sole almondine with bottomless Shirley Temples, and to exotic Polyesian dinners at Don the Beachcomber's, where I got to sit in a Queen Chair and stuff my royal face with as many pork spareribs as I could cram in there. Life was good.

But the best thing of all, my favorite treat-of-treats, was to get in bed early after my Mr. Bubble bath and watch Love, American Style with my Gram while Gramps served me a "snick-snack tray" laden with delicacies: sugar wafers, red Jell-O with bananas, ice cream scoop, Cheez-N-Crackers in the toxic, single-serve package and a glass of milk with enough chocolate in it to choke Augustus Gloop. Then they would crank up the A/C, dial the electric blanket to a toasty "7", and let me pass out in a pool of my own bliss.

Explains a lot, doesn't it?

The dark side of these crazy sensualists who contributed roughly half of my DNA is that they indulged in stuff themselves, too, and I mean STUFF. The place was always neat, but there were multiples of everything squirreled away everywhere. Because they came up during the Great Depression, we always said, but now I suspect it may have been something more than that. Something hoard-y this way comes. Their son, my father, rebelled against it and all sentiment (with the exception of his love for Jesus, as befits a good convert), and save for his writings, of which he saved every word, he let most of his possessions go as soon as they were gifted to him.

Much of the remaining "good" stuff I have once belonged to Gram & Gramps. They enjoyed giving it to me while they were still alive, so they could see me using and enjoying it. With each item, Gramps would launch into a lengthy story about the provenance of the item, the pawn shop it had been acquired in, or the particular trip to Copenhagen, or the fight it was purchased to make up for, followed by its estimated cash value (high! A fortune, even!) They were always interesting stories, and they always ended the same way: with Gram hissing quietly in my ear, "Sell it!"

These two kitschy painted metal trays were originally part of a set of six which got divvied up when the ex-husband and I moved to L.A. and pared down our possessions. Eighteen years later, I'm ready to let these go, too. They are not the ones upon which my Snick-Snacks were served, and they are a bit worse for the wear in places (some dings, scratches and a little rust in a couple of spots), but they would make a charming addition to any non-fussy mid-Century kitsch collectors home, especially an imbibing household.

Name your price, and/or pass along to someone else. (You're on Facebook, right? Yeah. That's what Facebook is for.)

Gram, wherever she is, would raise a glass to you in approval...

xxx
c

No, seriously, email the 'tater if you're into these (miz.tater AT gmail.com). We want them to go to a good home!

Selling My Crap on eBay, Day 2: Basketball Jones

This is Day 2 of a 21-day series. For more scoop on the who/what/why, go here.

Many moons, much heartache and tens of thousands of annual dollars-per-year ago, I was a thriving ad hole. Or "ad ho," if you like. Or television copywriter, if you roll Mad Men-style.

I wrote ads for automobiles! I wrote ads for beer! I wrote ads for clothing stores, deodorant and artificially-colored-and-sweetened gelatin desserts! I wrote ads for pretty much whatever anyone told me to write, because the only two things I swore I'd never write an ad for, feminine hygiene sprays and cigarettes, no one ever asked me to. Pity, there was nothing I wanted more in those days than to really tell someone where they could go.

You see, I used to be an angry, angry person. I still am, only I'm a bit less so and far more aware of it. (Hint: if you're a ladyperson, and you're either not crying at all or crying a lot, you're probably angry.) There is plenty for most of us to be angry about, just like there's plenty for us to be grateful for.

But I digress.

By 1992, I'd left my full-time job and relocated to Los Angeles with my ex-husband to pursue careers in stuff that never actually materialized (it's okay, better things did). It was weird and hard and exhilarating and awesome all at once, or all at once and then bit by bit, when I realized that not only could I travel back and forth from L.A. to Chicago to freelance, but that I'd have to, as no one would hire my ass in L.A. (no print experience) and that fat wad of cash you move with never does sustain you as long as you'd hoped it would. Also, I was pretty much unemployable at anything else. Also-also, my mother was dying of cancer and I felt like I'd better do what I could while I could to wrap things up with her. Those are stories for another day, and we will tell them.

For now, here is what you need to know: I wrote one of the most kick-ass campaigns of my 10-odd years in advertising for Wheaties, back when Michael Jordan was their spokesjock. I'd worked on Gatorade for FOUR ENTIRE YEARS already, but MJ got signed just as I flipped the final bird to my last full-time gig. Besides, I was so burnt-crispy, I couldn't have come up with a decent ad then if you paid me. (Pause for ironic laughter.)

I wrote this campaign and my partner did her usual stellar job at art-directing and our agency producer did his usual stellar job of producing and our director did his usual stellar job of directing and all in all, it was one of those magical projects where everything goes right from beginning to end, except for one thing: Michael Jordan did not want to be anywhere near me. My proof? Behold:

Michael Jordan is LEANING AWAY from me. And frankly, if I could have leaned away from me, I would have, too. I mean, Jesus H. Jumping Christ on a Pogo Stick: look at me! If there is one thing it was in my power to do to make myself more unattractive, I'm at a loss as to what it might be. And trust me, the clothes are just an externalization of the incredibly angry mess I was inside. I had an almost pathological need during those years to be an iconoclast, to be noticed, to defy everyone and everything.

Well. No matter. Because even though Michael Jordan didn't particularly like me, I liked him fine, and don't blame him one bit. He did a fantastic job acting in those commercials I wrote. He was a consummate professional and unflaggingly polite.

And yeah, like everyone else in this picture, he signed a bona-fide Wilson basketball and gave it to me at the end of the shoot. Okay, had a minion give it to me. It's mine, though, all mine.

It can be yours, if it is a thing you have always dreamed of. It has been maintained in mint condition, or very near to, in the cozy confines of an unused clear acrylic terrarium in the shape of a globe.1 People were allowed to touch it, but mostly, just to look.

One caveat: there is no authentication for this basketball other than my story and this photo (which, hey, you know, Photoshop) and the corroboration of any person you might be able to corral from the shoot. In other words, it may require extra diligence on your part to turn this into an investment item. But it is, nonetheless, the genuine item.

Leave a comment or shoot my 'tater an email (miz.tater AT gmail DOT com) if you're interested. First come, first served.

xxx
c

Selling My Crap on eBay: a 21-Day Salute™

Way, way back in 2000-01, a guy named John Freyer sold (almost) all of his worldly possessions on eBay.

As described on the site dedicated to the project, a site which, along with everything else, he ultimately divested himself of, he did it more as a social experiment than a money-making venture, to "[explore] our relationship to the objects around us, their role in the concept of identity, as well as the emerging commercial systems of the Internet." Which is a slightly fancy/academic way of saying he used the Internet to look at how we relate to the stuff of real life, and the stuff of real life to examine how we interact because of the Internet. Which is really, you know, totally awesome.

I remember reading about Freyer back in 2002, just before the book came out, and thinking how cool and brave and interesting it was that someone could even think up an idea like that, much less do it. A life full of interesting, self-generated projects, not to mention a life without stuff! A life where, as Freyer did for several months after selling off the stuff, one traveled around the country, meeting the people who'd purchased one's stuff, turning strangers into friends! It was a crazy life; maybe even a beautiful one, but it was a life for someone else, not an introverted, middle-aged  lady who was so afraid of ending up old, sick and alone, pushing all of her belongings in a shopping cart that she would most likely have dropped dead of fright had she known about the colossal, colonic spitball the universe was about to lob at her.

For the most part, I'm still afraid of all that stuff; I'm just more afraid of the stuff that buffers the fears than I am of the fear itself. That's the real gift of going eyeball-to-eyeball with death, as far as I can tell. You finally see that your stuff is not going to save you, not the defenses you've built up, not the totems you've surrounded yourself with, not any of it. It's just stuff. Some of it is really useful. Some of it is not. Some of it is useful for a while, then not.

My stuff saved me for a long time, so I saved it right back. From coping mechanisms that got me through some emotionally unstable early years to eclectic but beautiful furnishings that made my home, my life, my body feel like mine, I hung onto them. But just as some of those early coping mechanisms started to get in the way of me leading what I suppose we must resign ourselves to calling an authentic life, the physical objects became something that hemmed me in, that tripped me up. They kept my mind fuzzy with worry and to-do lists, how will I clean this? where shall I store this? is this the perfect reflection of me?, when I wanted that headspace for other things now, like figuring out what I was supposed to do with the rest of my life. I had no idea what it was, and since foraging around for answers didn't seem to be working, I figured maybe it was time to do things the Michelangelo way: chip away at the bastard until the beautiful truth within revealed itself. Besides, my sister and I are the end of the line, and I just couldn't leave her with the mountain of crap our forebears had left us.

So roughly a year ago, I started pitching stuff in earnest. I still acquired things, but mostly on a catch-and-release program, especially when it came to books. I met Brooks, who helped me dislodge some of my more trenchant physical clutter. The Specter of Wayne and Google Wave with Dave helped me to illuminate and shed some of my darker emotional clutter. Finally, in March, a breakthrough: I learned that more than anything, I wanted to write and talk. I've been sort of stuck there since, but at least I knew enough to clear out what wasn't supporting those two things. At least that was something to move toward.

I'm getting down to it now. Putting aside digital clutter (a silent, lurking beast in its own right), I've identified what I really love and need RIGHT NOW. It's time to let go of the rest.

Which is why I'm selling a bunch of my crap on eBay. Nothing as exotic as opened boxes of cereal and pushpins, like Mr. Freyer, but crap that may be fun or useful or interesting for someone else to own. (Although hey, a half a box of corn flakes might be cool, with the right story.) Semi-nice (or fun/interesting/useful) crap. Crap I'm still close enough to that I'd like to find it good homes, or at least share a story about before releasing it into the universe.

So for the next 20 days, I'll tell those stories on the blog, posting photos and background on each item here first. If you have a burning desire to own one of these items, you can contact my adroit 'tater in the sales & fulfillment dept., who will wait five days from the time of each post before listing them on eBay, so you can have first crack at it, or forward it to your friend, The Avid Collectrix of Dainty Ladies' Hankies (or Other Random Item), that she might.

I think it will be fun. If I'm lucky, I'll also net a few bucks to offset the frighteningly high "ordinary upkeep" charge I just made on behalf of my beloved Corolla, Betty.

But as always, it is mostly about the journey. And with that, away we go...

xxx c

Countdown to 5-0

My friend Josh, whom I've known for an it-seems-like-impossible 29 years, has pointed out that I perhaps speak overmuch of my age.

And he may be right. While I'm all about leading with the truth for the best of reasons, in this case, keeping the twin evils of ageism and misogyny front and center, I'm sure that all kinds of other not-so-best reasons are scrambled in there. Vanity, for instance, and a whole lot of nothin'-left-to-lose. Will I be as eager to trumpet my age when people stop telling me I don't look it, I wonder? Or if it somehow became in my best financial interest to hide it?

Well. No matter. For now, I'm a vainglorious, preening diva chock full of nothing-to-lose. Also, it's my birthday, and everyone gets a freebie or two on her birthday.

Also-also, it's a big one: as of today, I have just 12 months before I am a half-century old. And baby, that there is some serious gravitas and shit. Even if you don't give a hoot about age, if it really is just a number, if you truly believe you're only as old as you feel, 50 is kinda old. (Sorry, Joshie, I know it's not old-old, but it is significant!) I'm almost halfway to 100 (I hope) and, as of today, nine years from the age my mom was when she died.

It's that last bit, and the bit about having buried both of my parents too young, and of various other reminders over the past decade that this stay is not an indefinite one, that really got my attention. Not to make it all about me, but Mom died in September of 1994, right around my 33rd birthday. It's what kicked my decision to pursue art into high gear, just as Dad's death, in early October of 2003, finally got me thinking seriously about the kind of art I wanted to leave as a legacy.

So, yeah. I've got a few big-ass plans in store for this coming 12 months, which I'll be sharing as the year unfolds. Most of them have less to do with going places than letting go of (even) more of the stuff I don't need anymore, both literally and metaphorically speaking. I'm excited and not a little terrified. But hey, what's life without a few thrills and spills, right?

Kickoff starts tomorrow. For now, by all means, say "happy birthday" here, if you haven't already on Facebook or email or whatever. I may not be into presents anymore, but I say you're never too old to have people make a bit of a fuss about you on your happy, happy birthday.

xxx
c

P.S. If you REALLY want to show your appreciation, go ahead and buy yourself that thing you've had on your Amazon Wishlist since forever through my shill link. Or sign up for Groupon, they have good stuff, cheap! Or go read about Smile Train and give them something, money, time, attention, whatever. But really, happy thoughts and wishes are just as welcome. Throw a few your own way, too!

Frrrrriday Rrrrroundup! #19

An end-of-weekly roundup collecting fffffive of the fffffantabulous things I find stumbling around the web during the week here, but which I post on one of the many other Internet outlets I stop by (or tweet at) during my travels. More about the genesis here.

What can you make with an iPad? Only the world's coolest cover of "Eye of the Tiger." [Facebook-ed, via daring fireball]

If you're one of those seven people who reads here because you actually dig and want to learn more about communicating, you might enjoy this excellent round-up of marketing and copywriting books. [delicious-ed]

Speaking of tigers, a particular Chinese one has its eye on my pal Chris Guillebeau's upcoming book. [Flickr-faved]

"Believe me, no one likes to read blog posts about people who are smug about how they have solved all the problems of the world. I mean, look, you either are winning a Nobel Prize or you do not have any answers." This, and so much more on Putting It Out There, is why I love Penelope Trunk.  [Tumbld]

Danny Miller's fantabulous (with a twist!) tribute to the late Patricia Neal. [Google-Reader-ed]

xxx
c

Image by williac via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

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Video Vednesday: 52 books! 52 books! (and a hack)

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnZuuVnO7o0&w=480&h=385]

I did it!

Earlier this week, I finished reading my 52^nd book for the year. As I confess in the video above, as well as on the goal-tracking page itself, I started several of these books before 2010, some well before, which is one of the reasons I decided to take on this reading thing as a goal. Tired of unfinished business, I was. It's inevitable when Overly-Busy Syndrome collides with Eyes-Bigger-Than-Stomach Disease; there are too many things you want to read, and always new ones, and never enough time. (Now, when I put down a book unfinished, I do it consciously, this book is not for me, and I'm not going to read any more of it. Next!)

The video is especially blathery considering I am sharing the world's simplest how-to. I seem to be constitutionally incapable of creating an improvised video shorter than 2 minutes. On the other hand, I'm so damned excited about finishing 52 books in less than a year, something I'm sure I haven't done since my 20s, or maybe even college, that I'm giving myself a pass. This ONCE. Then, back to it.

Here's the trick, written-out-style, for my fellow non-video types:

At some point before I start my daily reading (40pp!), I decide on a natural stopping point around 40pp out, sometimes a little shorter, sometimes a little longer, depending on the book and my mood. Then I place a sticky note on that page, sticking up about 1/4", so that I know when it's time to stop.

I find this helps me let go of page count (as much as a nutcase obsessive type can) and focus on the book itself. Before, when I used other methods, I got all caught up in my underwear: if I used my right index finger, it got uncomfortable; if I used a second bookmark, it tended to lift the last few pages before my stopping point, which took me out of reading; and if I used my brain, well, we won't go there. Very ugly.

Hopefully, this little hack will be of use to you. If not, well, you can just congratulate me on (finally) doing the right thing again. Woo-hoo, indeed!

xxx
c

P.S. The book I'm holding up is Influence, Robert Cialdini's classic work on persuasion, which I'll be reviewing soon. As I mention in the video, I'd picked it up at a book sale right before I heard Jonathan Fields talk about it on his segment of the World-Changing Writing Workshop. It's every bit as much of a must-read as Jonathan said, and it's fascinating and FUN to read, as well. So there you go. Stay tuned!

What's up & what's gone down :: August 2010

A mostly monthly but forever occasional round-up of what I've been up to and what I plan to be. For full credits and details, see this entry.

Colleen of the future (places I'll be)

• August L.A. Biznik Happy Hour at Jerry's Famous (Wednesday, August 11; 5:30 - 8) TODAY! Co-hosted by my friend and colleague Heather Parlato, this is a really low-key, easy way to get out and meet some likeminded solopreneur and small biz types. Free, but join Biznik here first (which, hooray!, is also free). And this is my last one until October, as next month I'll be in Portland, speaking at...
• Ignite Portland 9 (Thursday, September 23, Bagdad Theatre, 5:30/door, 7pm start) Holy moly! I got accepted again! I guess they either liked last year's talk okay or forgot about it. Either way, I'll be serving up a new and delicious thingamabobby in five minutes and 20 unstoppable (literally!) slides in just over six weeks. If yer in town, come say "hi!"
• Your Actor MBA (available for pre-purchase now; episodes starting Labor Day) Holy crap on a cracker, did I ever have a good time talking Actor Mind Taffy with my friend, Bonnie Gillespie, and the talented bunch of people she and her people pulled together. This is my sight-unseen plug, for which I receive NOTHING. And have received NOTHING. Except a great afternoon of talking shop with smart talent, a couple of new acquaintances, and an orchid (which, sorry, Bon, I had to give away. I'm just no good with the delicate fucking flowers.)

Colleen of the Past (stuff I did you might not know about)

• fear.less magazine (July 2010) Ishita Gupta's inspiring digital mag, downloadable as a free PDF file, is full of reasons BESIDES me to read it. But yeah, there'a a pretty great interview with me in it, which I mainly credit Ishita for. She is a dreamy, dreamy visionary, in all senses of the word(s).
• StoryWorthy podcast My new L.A.-storytelling-circuit pal, Christine Blackburn, had me on her new L.A. storytelling podcast to tell the story of the colorectal surgeon who fell so head-over-heels with me, he wanted to build me a new rectum. Sexy! And true!
• Coudal Partners Fresh Signals The fine folk at America's greatest mutual purveyor of links and groovy note-taking supplies put up with me and my freaky links to writing-related and totally random stuff for the entire month of July, then gave me a fab tour of HQ when I was in town. Thanks, Jim & Co.! And thanks, Alissa Walker, for recommending me! Hope I didn't shame anyone too much.
• The World-Changing Writing Workshop Pace & Kyeli invited me to teach one of the segments of their new-model online/tele-writing classes. And it kicked ass! Well, people said so, anyway, and I had a blast. I'm working my way through all the other segments now. Once I'm sure everything is copacetic, and if they offer a recorded version for sale, I will let you know! And you will buy it from me, and I will be rich! Rich! RICH! (Well, no, but as I very rarely recommend things for purchase, if I do, it would be super-nice if you did buy it through me.)
• Amazon (video) book review I'm playing around with these for now, but it's my intention to start creating some kind of review for every book I read, mainly, so that the book sticks in my head, and so that I keep myself honest reading it. This review is of a super-light read, Debbie Ford's The Best Year of Your Life, self-help, and fluffy self-help, to boot. Still, I got a few worthy things from it, and if you're the kinda-sorta person who enjoys video more than writing, you might like it. (Although honestly, if you are, I cannot imagine what you're doing on this wordy-ass blog.)

Colleen of the Present (ongoing projects)

• communicatrix | focuses My monthly newsletter devoted to the all-important subject of increasing your unique fabulosity. One article per month (with actionable tips! and minimal bullsh*t!) about becoming a better communicator, plus the best few of the many cool things I stumble across in my travels. Plus a tiny drawing by yours truly. Free! (archives & sign-up)
• Act Smart! is my monthly column about marketing for actors for LA Casting, but I swear, you'll find stuff in it that's useful, too. Browse the archives, here.
• Internet flotsam And of course, I snark it up on Twitter, chit-chat on Facebook, post the odd video or quote to Tumblr, and bookmark the good stuff I find on my travels at StumbleUpon and delicious. If you like this sort of stuff, follow me in those places, I only post a fraction of what I find to Twitter and Facebook.

xxx
c

Image by madnzany via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

Frrrrriday Rrrrroundup! #16

An end-of-weekly roundup collecting fffffive of the fffffantabulous things I find stumbling around the web during the week here, but which I post on one of the many other Internet outlets I stop by (or tweet at) during my travels. More about the genesis here.

Flags of the nations, in food! (This one's for you, Jodi.) [Facebook-ed].

If you've wondered what this here Kickstarter thing is all about, look no further than Mr. Craig Mod's excellent writeup.   [delicious-ed]

Terry Richardson shoots Los Angeles. [Tumbld]

One of my fave small fries I met via the interwebs, doing an excellent impersonation of an adorable elf. [Flickr-faved]

And my favorite link from the past week as Coudal Guest Editor, my last: clueless idiot gives "gift" to his ex on her wedding day; Lizzie Skurnick tells him where he can put it.

xxx
c

P.S. Bonus extra link I found VIA Coudal: the world's greatest story involving a screenwriter, a prostitute and the law. So not what you think, it will blow your mind. (And even if it doesn't, the writing will.)

Image by williac via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

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What's up & what's gone down :: July 2010

A mostly monthly but forever occasional round-up of what I've been up to and what I plan to be. For full credits and details, see this entry.

Colleen of the future (places I'll be)

• July L.A. Biznik Happy Hour at Jerry's Famous (Wednesday, July 14; 5:30 - 8) Co-hosted by my friend and colleague Heather Parlato, this is a really low-key, easy way to get out and meet some likeminded solopreneur and small biz types. Free, but join Biznik here first (which, hooray!, is also free). UPDATE: It's "sold out" now (which it's not really, because it's free, but you know what I mean), but check back, if/when someone drops out, you can grab their spot.
• The Ojai Women's Business Social (Thursday, July 8; 5:30 - 7:30) My friend Jodi Womack started the OWBS over a year ago, and it keeps on growing with no signs of stoppage! A wonderful, totally laid-back event just for women to meet and mingle with other business women.
• Coudal Partners Fresh Signals (the entire month of July!) Yup-yup, in case you missed it, I'm posting random (but mostly design-and-culture-ish) links as the proud guest contributor on this month's feed of delicious links.

Colleen of the Past (stuff I did you might not know about)

• Havi Brooks' Kitchen Table I probably shouldn't even tell you about this, because we had so much fun and Havi and her people are so awesome, and (here's the bad part) you can't just get in on the Kitchen Table action without applying and passing muster (which is probably how Havi ensures that only the exact right people make it in there.) But I'll use the opportunity to plug Havi's site, which apparently I inspired her to start lo, these two or three years ago, and which is always full of great info. And the comments sections of the posts are like a smaller, freer version of the Kitchen Table! Especially check out the Very Personal Ads on Sunday. Serious hoodoo going down that way.

Colleen of the Present (ongoing projects)

• communicatrix | focuses My monthly newsletter devoted to the all-important subject of increasing your unique fabulosity. One article per month (with actionable tips! and minimal bullsh*t!) about becoming a better communicator, plus the best few of the many cool things I stumble across in my travels. Plus a tiny drawing by yours truly. Free! (archives & sign-up)
• Act Smart! is my monthly column about marketing for actors for LA Casting, but I swear, you'll find stuff in it that's useful, too. Browse the archives, here.
• Internet flotsam And of course, I snark it up on Twitter, chit-chat on Facebook, post the odd video or quote to Tumblr, and bookmark the good stuff I find on my travels at StumbleUpon and delicious. If you like this sort of stuff, follow me in those places, I only post a fraction of what I find to Twitter and Facebook.

xxx
c

Image by madnzany via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

Referral Friday: The Secret City

I confess: I have broken my self-imposed hiatus a couple of times since I self-imposed it this past December.

Once, for a good friend and client. Because, hey, that's what you do for a good friend and client.

The second time, most recently, for a friend I practically bullied into accepting a free session, I so believe in his work: Mr. Chris Wells, performer extraordinaire, heart big as all outdoors, and creator of The Big Artist workshop, which I attended last month and raved about here. Chris prepped his big-as-all-outdoors heart out beforehand, but the truth is he already had a mighty clear vision of where he wanted to take this puppy, and I mostly helped facilitate around the edges.

Chris has an equally clear vision for (of?) where he wants to take The Secret City, his celebrated NYC-for-now-based performance/celebration/art-church, which recently won an Obie Award for being so fucking fantastic. (Okay. It won strictly for being fantastic, but I am lost without my celebratory expletives.) And right now, he's doing him some serious biggifying, as my friend Havi would say, raising $15,000 in 45 days via Kickstarter to take The Secret City to the next level: a bigger space; non-profit status; world domination by art. You get the idea.

You can pledge $25 and get a song on your voicemail. Pledge more and get art. T-shirts. Secret City board member Roseanne Cash serenading you in private. (You have to pledge a lot more for that one.) Or be a mini-titan with your name in the program and a personalized thank-you note for just a buck.

A patron of the arts! For a buck!

Either way, have a wonderful weekend filled with joy and art of your choice.

(But come on, a buck!)

xxx
c

Linking up with Coudal

You know how they say that your blessing is your curse? Well, me and my big fat habit of opening my trap before information has a chance to travel to it occasionally nets me the awesome.

To wit, when I was approached by the fine folk at Coudal Partners to be a guest editor for their daily feed of outstanding links during the month of July, or should I say, their outstanding (and daily!) feed of links, I jumped on it. Before I realized, "Holy Moses, now I have to come up with good shit ALL MONTH LONG."

Oh, well. As I've said before, if I didn't terrify myself on a regular basis, I'd still be sitting in a Montessori class, shoving paste up the nose of the girl sitting next to me. (Lie. There is no paste in Montessori.)

So I will simply say thank you to Coudal, and (I think) to my friend, Alissa Walker, who passed along my name for consideration, and knuckle down to the difficult work of cruising the Internet for awesome stuff.

And if you come across any wonderful stuff that bears sharing and is not already well-traveled around the 'tubes (here's a good place to check for freshness), by all means, send it along to me. I'll credit you with a link, and the world will spin on its axis with a little more cheerful vigor.

Happy July! And linking!

xxx
c

Speaking of awesome, to tide you over, and to give you just a taste of the kind of awesome we're looking to share there, here are just a few of the I've found via the Coudal feed:

• A delightful short film from a man living out two childhood fantasies, in stop-motion.
• Another delightful short film for Bronte Sisters Action Figures.
• A thoughtful contextual examination of the popular Facebook game, Farmville.
• Fab, retro catalog for Volvo in the U.S.

C*cksucking boulder update

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ysh7ZxWew-M&w=480&h=385]

It's been a weirdly long half-year so far, but I think we've put the hardest of it behind us. Or maybe that's just the unbridled, sleep-deprived glee, and summer solstice, talking.

Either way, I'm feeling a lightness in my heart and a feeling that things are looking up that I haven't felt in some time. But there was some serious trudgery up that hill to get here, and I'm a wee bit tuckered out from all the pushing. So just a wee postie to share these few things.

First, ask. Ask for help. Ask your friends, ask your loved ones, ask random strangers you meet on the street if you really need it, but ask. Stuff will happen anyway, but I have recently had it reinforced that stuff happens much, much more easily if you ask. So ask. And really, what's the downside? A "no"? You've got that anyway! Ask! Everyone loves to help, including you. You know it's true. So let those people have a little thrill: ask!

Second, sleep helps. It really cannot be emphasized enough. Sleep and fluids, but especially sleep. I now get how you could drive someone batshit-crazy-up-a-wall into confessing anything by depriving them of sleep long enough. Not sure exactly what sleep does, but there's some kind of re-setting mechanism, and a whole lot of smoothing-out of edges. So as much of those good zzzz's as you can nab, you know?

Third, do just one thing. When all feels hopeless, do just one teeny-tiny thing today that is within your control to move whatever c*cksucking boulder it is that you need pushed up whatever motherf*cking hill you have in front of you. Even if it's just putting "Brainstorm ways to get c*cksucking boulder up motherf*cking hill" on a list.

Fourth, and finally, comments are back on! Well, sort of!* I apologize for the turning-off, but it couldn't be helped. They're being moderated for now, but at least they're on. So hey, test it out! Let's take this WordPress puppy out on the open road and see what she'll do! If we break it, we break it, but we'll have a good time until then!

Thanks, and a new, non-shower-cap, hopefully-useful video tomorrow.

xxx
c

*Mad, crazy, insane thanks to my gal, Heather Parlato, and her genius boyfriend Jason Brown. You are brilliant, your cats are outstanding in their field, and god bless America, you have a great patio. I am honored and grateful to call you my friends.

UPDATE: If you're a subscriber, you may have gotten this twice. Apologies. I had to whack the side of my WordPress database a couple more times.

What's up & what's gone down :: June 2010

A mostly monthly but forever occasional round-up of what I've been up to and what I plan to be. For full credits and details, see this entry.

Colleen of the future (places I'll be)

• The World-Changing Writers Workshop (course: June/July 2010; my "class" is on July 8) I'm proud and excited to be part of this excellent mega-teleclass produced by my pals Pace & Kyeli of Freak Revolution. I've been learning lots of new stuff in my own writing classes recently, some of which I hope to share with you. But like they used to say about the lottery, you gotta be in it to win it. Registration closes at midnight, June 9th, so get on it! (Note: links are affiliate links; they serve as part of my payment for teaching. So you know!)
• June L.A. Biznik Happy Hour at Jerry's Famous (Wednesday, June 9; 5:30 - 8) I usually produce this event with my friend and colleague Heather Parlato, but she (and many other designers) will be at the big HOW conference next week. This should be a slightly cozier meetup, which means if there are questions you want to pummel me with, you'll have a better opportunity to do so! Free, but join Biznik here first (which, hooray!, is also free).
• The Ojai Women's Business Social (Thursday, June 10; 5:30 - 7:30, the Acacia Mansion) My friend Jodi Womack started the OWBS over a year ago, and it keeps on growing with no signs of stoppage! A wonderful, totally laid-back event just for women to meet and mingle with other business women.

Colleen of the Past (stuff I did you might not know about)

• My poem did not get selected for "Issue Zero" of 48 Hour Magazine, but I loved the hard copy I got so much, and was so annoyed by killjoy jackasses CBS and their cease & desist order, that I made a tribute "unboxing" video which you can see on Vimeo. (If you've never heard of unboxing, here's what it's about.)
• I don't think there's any video extant, but I performed two poems at the official opening event of w o r d s p a c e, a writers' collaboration space and organization founded by my friend Brenda Varda, a couple of weeks ago. If you live in Los Angeles, do get on Brenda's mailing list. She's got a stellar lineup of classes and workshops and events in production or slated, including more Big Artist Workshops this fall.

Colleen of the Present (ongoing projects)

• communicatrix | focuses My monthly newsletter devoted to the all-important subject of increasing your unique fabulosity. One article per month (with actionable tips! and minimal bullsh*t!) about becoming a better communicator, plus the best few of the many cool things I stumble across in my travels. Plus a tiny drawing by yours truly. Free! (archives & sign-up)
• Act Smart! is my monthly column about marketing for actors for LA Casting, but I swear, you'll find stuff in it that's useful, too. Browse the archives, here.
• Internet flotsam And of course, I snark it up on Twitter, chit-chat on Facebook, post the odd video or quote to Tumblr, and bookmark the good stuff I find on my travels at StumbleUpon and delicious. If you like this sort of stuff, follow me in those places, I only post a fraction of what I find to Twitter and Facebook.

xxx
c

Image by madnzany via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

Frrrrriday Rrrrroundup!

An end-of-weekly roundup collecting fffffive of the fffffantabulous things I find stumbling around the web during the week here, but which I post on one of the many other Internet outlets I stop by (or tweet at) during my travels. More about the genesis here.

Supercute, commissionable inky portraits that remind me a bit of a looser Louise Fitzhugh, for a very reasonable $25. [Tumbled, via Adam Lisagor]

An interesting interview from New York magazine on what constitutes selfless memoir with two controversial, and female, memoirists. [delicious-ed]

A brief, beautiful meditation on the beauty of life by the inimitable Jeffrey Zeldman. [Stumbled]

My poem didn't make the cut, but I still bought a copy of 48 Hour Magazine (Issue Zero!), a wild, wonderful work of love from a really smart (and kinda crazy) devotees of media genres old and new. [Facebook-ed]

Of course, not getting selected meant I had to find a photo to go with the poem. And that always turns up great stuff. [Flickr-faved]

xxx
c

Image by williac via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

What's up & what's gone down :: May 2010

A mostly monthly but forever occasional round-up of what I've been up to and what I plan to be. For full credits and details, see this entry.

Colleen of the future (places I'll be)

• The World-Changing Writers Workshop (course: June/July 2010; my "class" is on July 8) Finally, after years of hounding by millions, okay, some hounding by a few persistent souls, I'll be teaching a little mini-class on writing as part of this excellent workshop series produced by my pals Pace & Kyeli of Freak Revolution. The lineup is STELLAR, four of my fave writers, plus me!, and I can already tell from the prep that Pace & Kyeli have requested from me that this series is going to kick some booty. Pre-registration starts next Tuesday, May 11, but if you go to this page now, you can sign up for a free intro tele-class (I won't be on that call) and download a free PDF with some good, basic writing tools. Oh, and yes, I'm getting paid for teaching, and yes, those are affiliate links. Look at me in my Big-Girl Pants, getting paid for shit!
• May L.A. Biznik Happy Hour at Jerry's Famous (Wednesday, May 12; 5:30 - 8) If you live in L.A., work for yourself and want to get out of the house to meet/mix with other like-minded people, come check out this monthly gathering my cohort Heather Parlato and I have been hosting for almost a year and a half. It's free to join us (we ask that you buy a little something to support Jerry's), but you'll need to join Biznik here first (which, hooray!, is also free).

Colleen of the Past (stuff I did you might not know about)

• The Career Clinic radio talk show I had a fantastic time talking with my Internet pal and real-life terrestrial radio talk show host, Maureen Anderson, about decluttering as it relates to business, creativity  and life itself. All four segments are available for your listening/downloading pleasure here, on this shiny new libsyn account I set up: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
• TEDxTacoma If you weren't there, I'm sorry you missed it. If you were, I love you and can't wait until we meet again. A truly extraordinary day of inspiration, fun and unbridled passion-exchanging. I wrote about it here. My small contribution, a talk on communicating with passion, that's sort of a mini-crash-course in acting, is available to view on YouTube.
• The Emma blog did a really lovely writeup about my 99.99% non-sucky newsletter (and its apparently spectacular open rate), and...
• My Biznik collaboratrix, Heather Parlato featured me on her (highly-recommended for its own excellence) blog, where she talked about what it is, exactly, that I do. Which is wonderful, because half the time, I have no idea myself.

Colleen of the Present (ongoing projects)

• communicatrix | focuses My monthly newsletter devoted to the all-important subject of increasing your unique fabulosity. One article per month (with actionable tips! and minimal bullsh*t!) about becoming a better communicator, plus the best few of the many cool things I stumble across in my travels. Plus a tiny drawing by yours truly. Free! (archives & sign-up)
• Act Smart! is my monthly column about marketing for actors for LA Casting, but I swear, you'll find stuff in it that's useful, too. Browse the archives, here.
• Internet flotsam And of course, I snark it up on Twitter, chit-chat on Facebook, post the odd video or quote to Tumblr, and bookmark the good stuff I find on my travels at StumbleUpon and delicious. If you like this sort of stuff, follow me in those places, I only post a fraction of what I find to Twitter and Facebook.

xxx
c

Image by madnzany via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.