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Thursday, March 26, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
What Do We Do Now...
This afternoon I was taken to a lunch with a friend - being hosted by another friend of hers as a meeting and greeting and networking sort of gathering. I knew not one person there other than my good friend who had invited me along. Over the course of about 10 courses of amazingly tasty Korean food (at a ridiculously low per-person price I might add), and several hours, I was charmed by each and every one of these people. I forget, in my insular little world, sometimes that people like this exist.
In my adopted city, all too often I find that people here are very singularly minded. One thing. "The Industry" and that's all. Their lives revolve around the industry, they work in the industry and they socialize in the industry. And through this friend who is, by all accounts, part of that industry and without which I never would have met her - I have now met a group of friends who have more going on in their worlds and heads than most of my colleagues.
At one point the conversation turned to the current state of the world - economic, social, military and other current situations and influences - and as I was explaining that my current work situation is not only less than positive and all less than paying what I need to survive on a weekly basis, it came across to me that in this mess - there are like-minded people who have like myself become energized by the feeling of not that "we, as a global community, can make things better" but rather that "we, as a global community, MUST make things better." I personally have been galvanized into working harder on my personal projects than my paid working ones in the hopes that I can turn my passions into a lucrative business.
It got me to thinking about my father and his generation. When my father grew up there were two paths to take. That was it. You were in one of two groups - you went to college or you didn't go to college. Once you made this choice, those who went to college, picked a major, graduated, got a job, got married and lived on til you retired OR you didn't go to college but then got a job in the service industry of some sort and followed pretty much the same path, with a somewhat lower pay rate, but essentially your life path was picked out for you. My father's worst day I think was when the day that I dropped out of college because it wasn't the right place for me. He has never understood that.
Now, however, you can choose. College doesn't guarantee you anything. Conversely, it doesn't prevent you from anything either. I have a close friend who though he has never attended college has become a designing engineer for a defense contractor through a 20 year career of hard work and self-motivation. He is 38. His house will be paid off before he's 50. I have also heard stories of corporate CEO's who refused to grow with the company and technology, got laid off and are currently delivering pizzas.
Things are all over the place. Money is tight. The economy blows chunks. There is no such thing as security or retirement any longer. But - we have a president who is human enough - and I do mean by that fallible - to make an off-handed joke about the Special Olympics on national television. (You know what, President Obama - just about everyone I know makes the occasional retard joke. No, it's not politically correct, but it's okay. We'll forgive you.) It's this bit of humanity gives me hope that he really gets what we're all going through - in a way that all the recently deposed rich old white guys never could.
I suppose what I'm getting at, is that for the time being nothing is certain. We all have no idea what's going to happen next. But we have to do something. Not to be all platitude spewing and annoying, but this is my advice... who cares what careers make more money. Right now, none of them do. And there is no such thing any longer as job security (except maybe for cops, cause let's face it, some people just like to break the rules). So screw it - just figure out what makes you happy and find a way to make a career doing it. If everyone did what made them happy, then what we would end up with is a well-adjusted, diverse and talented, happy bunch of people - and perhaps less rich old white guys just out to steal all the money.
In my adopted city, all too often I find that people here are very singularly minded. One thing. "The Industry" and that's all. Their lives revolve around the industry, they work in the industry and they socialize in the industry. And through this friend who is, by all accounts, part of that industry and without which I never would have met her - I have now met a group of friends who have more going on in their worlds and heads than most of my colleagues.
At one point the conversation turned to the current state of the world - economic, social, military and other current situations and influences - and as I was explaining that my current work situation is not only less than positive and all less than paying what I need to survive on a weekly basis, it came across to me that in this mess - there are like-minded people who have like myself become energized by the feeling of not that "we, as a global community, can make things better" but rather that "we, as a global community, MUST make things better." I personally have been galvanized into working harder on my personal projects than my paid working ones in the hopes that I can turn my passions into a lucrative business.
It got me to thinking about my father and his generation. When my father grew up there were two paths to take. That was it. You were in one of two groups - you went to college or you didn't go to college. Once you made this choice, those who went to college, picked a major, graduated, got a job, got married and lived on til you retired OR you didn't go to college but then got a job in the service industry of some sort and followed pretty much the same path, with a somewhat lower pay rate, but essentially your life path was picked out for you. My father's worst day I think was when the day that I dropped out of college because it wasn't the right place for me. He has never understood that.
Now, however, you can choose. College doesn't guarantee you anything. Conversely, it doesn't prevent you from anything either. I have a close friend who though he has never attended college has become a designing engineer for a defense contractor through a 20 year career of hard work and self-motivation. He is 38. His house will be paid off before he's 50. I have also heard stories of corporate CEO's who refused to grow with the company and technology, got laid off and are currently delivering pizzas.
Things are all over the place. Money is tight. The economy blows chunks. There is no such thing as security or retirement any longer. But - we have a president who is human enough - and I do mean by that fallible - to make an off-handed joke about the Special Olympics on national television. (You know what, President Obama - just about everyone I know makes the occasional retard joke. No, it's not politically correct, but it's okay. We'll forgive you.) It's this bit of humanity gives me hope that he really gets what we're all going through - in a way that all the recently deposed rich old white guys never could.
I suppose what I'm getting at, is that for the time being nothing is certain. We all have no idea what's going to happen next. But we have to do something. Not to be all platitude spewing and annoying, but this is my advice... who cares what careers make more money. Right now, none of them do. And there is no such thing any longer as job security (except maybe for cops, cause let's face it, some people just like to break the rules). So screw it - just figure out what makes you happy and find a way to make a career doing it. If everyone did what made them happy, then what we would end up with is a well-adjusted, diverse and talented, happy bunch of people - and perhaps less rich old white guys just out to steal all the money.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
St Patricks Day
In the immortal words of some drunk ass somewhere in the middle of the US - Erin Go Braugh! What does that mean? Something about Erin's bra, I'm sure. Dumbass - it's Éirinn go brách. Whatever. It's St Patrick's Day. The day when everyone is a little Irish and for some reason everything turns green. And has puke on it.
Celebrating a Saint used to be a solemn occasion, when people would go to church, have a prayer or two, and say thank you to whichever saint they were celebrating for whatever it was he or she did. St Patrick's is different. Perhaps its because the Irish are pissed that one of the Patron Saints of Ireland isn't actually Irish. He was Welsh. Oh yeah, and the part about how he was kidnapped and forced into slavery by the Irish. Gotta love us, don't ya?
Somehow through some strange twist of fate (and let's say it folks - it had NOTHING TO DO WITH SNAKES!!!!) he became a patron saint of this tiny little island.
But for some reason, and perhaps its just the genetic makeup of the Irish people (of which I count myself proudly) instead of having a solemn thankful day, we make sure to ruin the day with massive amounts of drink, puke and bar fights. GO IRISH!
And oh yeah, I'm staying home.
Celebrating a Saint used to be a solemn occasion, when people would go to church, have a prayer or two, and say thank you to whichever saint they were celebrating for whatever it was he or she did. St Patrick's is different. Perhaps its because the Irish are pissed that one of the Patron Saints of Ireland isn't actually Irish. He was Welsh. Oh yeah, and the part about how he was kidnapped and forced into slavery by the Irish. Gotta love us, don't ya?
Somehow through some strange twist of fate (and let's say it folks - it had NOTHING TO DO WITH SNAKES!!!!) he became a patron saint of this tiny little island.
But for some reason, and perhaps its just the genetic makeup of the Irish people (of which I count myself proudly) instead of having a solemn thankful day, we make sure to ruin the day with massive amounts of drink, puke and bar fights. GO IRISH!
And oh yeah, I'm staying home.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Apparently My Friend Jane Caused the Global Recession
I have no words. This was published in the Irish Times this past Wednesday. Intended as a "satirical" article in a country where the word "sarcasm" to anyone over the age of 40 means something that you don't know how to give your wife - this fell on deaf, dumb (and blind) ears. Many took it literally. This was shocking to see... So enjoy...
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Working women almost certainly caused the credit crunch
NEWTON EMERSON
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Working women almost certainly caused the credit crunch
NEWTON EMERSON
NEWTON'S OPTIC: THE ANSWER to all our problems is staring us in the face. It may even be quite literally staring at you, right now, across the breakfast table.
So put the paper down, stare back and ask yourself a selfless question.
Does the woman in your life really need a job?
Admittedly, this is not a fashionable question. From Iceland to Australia, men are blamed for causing the credit crunch, while a more feminine approach to finance is proposed as the solution.
Of course there will always be a place in the world of business for exceptional women. Women also have an important role to play in jobs that are too demeaning for men, like teaching. But the general employment of women is another matter. Indeed, working women almost certainly caused the credit crunch by bringing a second income into the average household, pushing property prices up to unsustainable levels.
Whether working women actually caused the credit crunch is now a moot point. The point is that removing women from the workforce would mitigate its effects.
Consider the issue of unemployment. There were 221,301 men on the live register last month and just under one million women in work.
Surely at least half these women have a partner who is earning? Surely at least half would be happier at home? One half of one half is a quarter and one quarter of a million is roughly 221,301. I think we can all see where this argument is going.
It would be ludicrous to suggest that women should be sacked purely to give men their jobs. In many cases, their jobs should be abolished as well.
Women are twice as likely as men to work in the public sector. They account for two-thirds of the Civil Service and three- quarters of all public employees.
Yet they are barely represented in the useful public services of firefighting and arresting people. Encouraging women to leave the workforce would go a long way towards addressing the budget deficit without any downside whatsoever.
Further benefits of sacking women have been uncovered by the Central Gender Mainstreaming Unit at the Department of Justice. According to its research, twice as many woman as men travel to work by bus and train, potentially halving the impact of cutbacks in public transport. However, it is probable that three-quarters of the Central Gender Mainstreaming Unit’s staff are women, so these figures should be taken with a pinch of salt.
While the economic case for fewer women in the workforce is irrefutable, we should also acknowledge the social advantages. Women make the majority of spending decisions in Irish households and make almost all of the purchases. They are far more likely than men to regard shopping as a leisure activity, far less likely to make savings and investments, and were even almost twice as likely to spend their SSIAs.
In short, women were the driving force behind the greed, consumerism and materialism of the Celtic Tiger years and it was female employment that funded their oestrogen-crazed acquisitiveness.
The time has come to build a more sustainable, equitable and progressive society. Why not make a start by telling your other half to quit her job? She can ask you for the housekeeping on Friday.
NOW - My dear dear friend Jane lives in Ireland. She finally, after reading this article - admitted - it was all her fault. She has written the following letter to the Irish Times editor and taken it upon herself to accept responsibility. If only the men who think it's just that simple would do the same.
I invite you to keep reading. From Jane to the Irish Times:
Madam,
It’s unfair for Newton Emerson (Newton’s Optic, 25 February 2009) even satirically to blame all women for the economic collapse, to hold us responsible for the cash-apocalypse that has people hoarding tins of depressing food and choosing which precious child will provide the most nourishment after the lights go out. No, that’s not the fault of all women: it was me, and I’m sorry. I wasn’t sorry before, but now the remorse-induced nausea is making my diet pills repeat on me. They’re not so nice on the return journey.
Maybe it was PMS, or maybe I’m just jealous of more attractive women. Maybe I feel fat or I hate men, or I’m just overeducated and undercultivated, and become unruly when not within view of a kitchen, or I get vertigo when in proximity to colourful accessories. Maybe I have a barren womb or an inattentive husband. Whatever the reason, if idle hands are the Devil’s plaything, mine were Rock Band for Xbox Live and they were playing drums on ‘Expert’.
It’s like with cigarettes. Take one puff, and the next thing you know, you’re eating the things two at a time, collecting used butts in a Tesco bag and re-rolling them at the back of a bus. You just don’t see it coming, and next thing you can’t even see where you came from, or how you ended up on the road to some place called Ongar.
First it was just a little sub-prime lending. It didn’t seem so bad, you know, just like the way the lady at the fruit stand used to slip a rotten apple in with the good ones just to get rid of them. I thought I could just dabble to kill the time while I scrambled up the Birkin bag waiting list. But next I knew I was practically shooting free cash out of my eyeballs, bundling up some of the ugliest mortgages you ever saw and with a flutter of my eyelashes and a collagen pout, passing them off as bags of diamond-studded gold bars, though they were little more than deceptively shiny loaves of my own muck.
I’m sorry for all that predatory lending. I’m sorry for those credit default swaps and for that shameless naked short-selling. I’m really sorry for all that price gouging, and the terrible thing I did with that property market. I’m sorry I made everyone buy second, third, fourth and quadrillionth homes they couldn’t afford and then buy platinum-coated Land Rovers with equity. And for the unpleasantness with Anglo-Irish and the Golden Circle or Maple Ten. I just wanted people to think I was pretty.
Don’t blame all women; I acted alone. I guess now I’ve confessed, someone should mete out punishment, and I guess it’s not gonna be free shoes for life, because it was my tireless lust for footwear that has brought us to the point where we’ll have no choice but to heave a good number of our less-hardy denizens into the nearest sea and fight each other to the death for a sup of briny workhouse soup. Just don’t eat me, I’m a vegetarian and wouldn’t make much of a meal.
Yours, etc,
Jane Ruffino
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Be Careful What You Wish For...
Yesterday was a perfect example of how the universe just likes to fuck with me. This story is called "Be Careful What You Wish For In the Realm of Instant Manifestation." So while I was on holiday this past Christmas season (which for the record was only two weeks ago) on Maui - my new friend Sadie was explaining to me how Maui was the land of Instant Manifestation. Things there sort of take shape as soon as you ask for them. And after reviewing my recent experiences while there, I had to agree with Sadie. Things there just come off without effort. You ask the Universe and if you are earnest in your request - while on Maui - it'll happen. (Though I do recommend that you be really SPECIFIC in your request or you won't get quite what you're asking for.)
Right, I should get back on point.
So the point of today's story is that tendency towards instant manifestation of universal requests has seemingly followed me home with potentially disastrous results.
Yesterday afternoon while working on a project for work which was stressing me out quite a bit, I said - and I said it Out Loud which I believe was key to the issue - "I wish this job would go away." It was too stressful, the client can't make up their mind, things keep changing, they want to cut budget but keep the shots that require a lot of money to get the proper props/talent/wardrobe/etc. and in general this was turning out to look a lot like the last shoot we did for this client which ended up generally and completely fubar'ed.
So I said this silly little wish. I said it out loud. And then the phone rang. And there it went. Ten minutes after I said it, the other producer on the job called me. The message was this - the client flipped out when they saw the final budget for what they were asking. They have now decided that this is way too much money and considering the state of the economy (and apparently their own company stock), they are reworking the job. What was supposed to be a 5 day shoot with 10 prep days and 2 post days, not to mention a week long casting (do the math - that would have been 21 full working days for me plus overtime and mileage), will now be at most a 2 day shoot if it even happens. And I won't know anything until this afternoon at the earliest. This sucks. This blows. This is not a good thing.
Be careful what you wish for.
Right, I should get back on point.
So the point of today's story is that tendency towards instant manifestation of universal requests has seemingly followed me home with potentially disastrous results.
Yesterday afternoon while working on a project for work which was stressing me out quite a bit, I said - and I said it Out Loud which I believe was key to the issue - "I wish this job would go away." It was too stressful, the client can't make up their mind, things keep changing, they want to cut budget but keep the shots that require a lot of money to get the proper props/talent/wardrobe/etc. and in general this was turning out to look a lot like the last shoot we did for this client which ended up generally and completely fubar'ed.
So I said this silly little wish. I said it out loud. And then the phone rang. And there it went. Ten minutes after I said it, the other producer on the job called me. The message was this - the client flipped out when they saw the final budget for what they were asking. They have now decided that this is way too much money and considering the state of the economy (and apparently their own company stock), they are reworking the job. What was supposed to be a 5 day shoot with 10 prep days and 2 post days, not to mention a week long casting (do the math - that would have been 21 full working days for me plus overtime and mileage), will now be at most a 2 day shoot if it even happens. And I won't know anything until this afternoon at the earliest. This sucks. This blows. This is not a good thing.
Be careful what you wish for.
Monday, January 19, 2009
How Crucial Is It Really?
Last year, I am somewhat ashamed to say, I got sucked into this television "phenomenon" (so the powers that be called it) about a group of kniving, malicious, horrid little spoiled brats in NYC who all wear outfits that cost more money than I make in a month. I accepted that I am a weak person and I loved watching this show. It was a total and complete escape from reality and the clothes, well, okay, I would kill for a couple of those pieces. I am not the only one in this sudden fascination with a silly, badly acting teen soap opera. Apparently a number of my friends fell victim to the stupidity and I would regularly sit on my couch on Monday nights to watch Man-Bangs, Queen B and Lonely Boy and text my comments on this show to my buddy who I knew was watching as well. It enabled me to feel... well, like I was 15. Because let's face it, when I was 15 - no one dressed that well or had good hair. I was 15 in 1986 - my high school years looked like the wardrobe rejects of a John Hughes movie.
This show once gave me a piece of what I feel like I missed out on - that is being young during a decade when the worst fashion trend has been the tendency to wear big clunky shearling boots during the hottest days of summer. (Which actually doesn't look all that bad, it's just stupid.) However, I for one can no longer pretend to have the required suspension of disbelief when on this week's episode the Queen B launches a particularly cruel and silly attack on a new professor at her ridiculous Manhattan Prep School for the attrocity of (GASP) giving her a "B" on an assignment. And further that the character truly believes that the headmistress will side with her rather than her faculty in this unfair assessment of her scholastic ability.
This is the crucial moment that will cause this deluded girl to ruin her future?
Can I get an "OH PLUUEZE?" from the peanut gallery here? What was once a silly little Monday night tryst for high schoolers and those of us who wish we could have a do-over for the embarrassment of high school, has fallen to a level of stupidity only the original 90210 could match. I suppose finally, I just have to admit, that I am just too old for this crap.
XOXO
I'm out.
This show once gave me a piece of what I feel like I missed out on - that is being young during a decade when the worst fashion trend has been the tendency to wear big clunky shearling boots during the hottest days of summer. (Which actually doesn't look all that bad, it's just stupid.) However, I for one can no longer pretend to have the required suspension of disbelief when on this week's episode the Queen B launches a particularly cruel and silly attack on a new professor at her ridiculous Manhattan Prep School for the attrocity of (GASP) giving her a "B" on an assignment. And further that the character truly believes that the headmistress will side with her rather than her faculty in this unfair assessment of her scholastic ability.
This is the crucial moment that will cause this deluded girl to ruin her future?
Can I get an "OH PLUUEZE?" from the peanut gallery here? What was once a silly little Monday night tryst for high schoolers and those of us who wish we could have a do-over for the embarrassment of high school, has fallen to a level of stupidity only the original 90210 could match. I suppose finally, I just have to admit, that I am just too old for this crap.
XOXO
I'm out.
My Day Today...
My day hasn't even started really and already I'm in a bad mood. I'm trying desperately to snap out of it as I have a ton to do but I have a sinking feeling that this isn't going to go anywhere but worse. I have to sort through the thousands of submissions I'm going to get for a casting that I am running this week for a the photo shoot that I'm working on. There are going to be a number of ridiculous types submitting to it.
The only thing that's keeping me from chucking it all is my need to replenish my bank accounts from my holiday and the fact that I'm listening to an old friend DJ from London right now (I love internet radio.) and he has the absolute best and most expansive knowledge of music - something which I greatly appreciate. Music is necessary to keep my head level most days. Actually all days. And this day shall be no different.
The only thing that's keeping me from chucking it all is my need to replenish my bank accounts from my holiday and the fact that I'm listening to an old friend DJ from London right now (I love internet radio.) and he has the absolute best and most expansive knowledge of music - something which I greatly appreciate. Music is necessary to keep my head level most days. Actually all days. And this day shall be no different.
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