Creepy bumper sticker of the day award

Ferrets are little children in fur coats

The car’s license plate: WOOZLE

Awww, wook at the wittle ferret…

Great publicity idea #1: Author shoplifts own book

I was in the local Books-a-Million yesterday talking with the manager about setting up an event around the release of my book. I took in an advanced copy to reinforce that, yes, I had written a book, and here it is.

“Is it a print-on-demand book?” he asked, as he searched for it on his computer.

“No.” I never know how to respond to that. I mean it isn’t a POD, but, still, I kind of find that offensive. I don’t want to come across as if publishing by the POD method is beneath me, but what about me makes this fella, and a host of others that I’ve met, assume that a publisher wouldn’t have paid me to publish my work?

Is it the flip-flops?

Or, perhaps, my inability to pronounce the word worm? Although, I don’t think I used the word yesterday. Did I say, “Bookworms will love it?!”

Or, is it because I refuse to learn the difference between effect and affect? The a(e)ffects of worms on zombie brains is grossly under-studied?”

He looked the book up on the computer and seemed surprised that BAM would be getting it in. All I needed to do was contact him a few months before the Big Day – December 1 – and have them get in extra copies for the event.

I thanked him, and browsed a little before heading for the door with my advanced copy still in hand. I felt a bit awkward.

What if someone stopped me?

“Excuse me sir,” I imagined one of the booksellers would say. “Did you pay for that?”

Here’s the response I settled on, if asked: “This book cost me over 10 grand and two years of my life. Any chance I can return it?”

They didn’t ask.

But here’s a thought…

If an author shoplifted their own book, would that be good publicity? Or just stupid?

Any of you who are authors, give it a try and let me know.

Big Buck Boneheads

I’m always amazed when companies or individuals with deep-as-the-ocean pockets do things that, to the ordinary Joe and Jane 2nd Mortgage, are so obviously stupid.

Obama is in Germany speaking to 100’s of thousands of people, and McCain poses for the photographers in front of a Weiner Schnitzel Hut in Ohio. DUMB!

Obama speaks behind an Obama seal that too closely resembles the President’s. DUMB!

The New Yorker’s cover featuring the militant Obamas – DUMB!

I’ve written about Nike’s Marty McFly Hyperdunks already. So far the shoes seem like a good idea, and they look okay. When I first read about their new ad featuring the shoes, it didn’t sound like a bad idea either. From Gawker.com:

Nike’s new ad campaign for its Hyperdunk shoes features a series of pictures of basketball players getting dunked on in what’s considered the worst way possible: the dunker dangling off the rim…in the face of the man being dunk-ee. They all have dynamic slogans like “That Ain’t Right!”

When I read that I immediately pictured Vince Carter dunking on that Russian guy. Seems like an okay ad to me.

Then I read about the controversy around the ads. They were labeled homophobic and insulting to the black community that is already heavily hit by AIDS. “Come on people,” I thought, thinking this was just another case of people taking political correctness to ridiculous levels. Then I saw the ad…

Uh, yeah, that ad ain’t right.

Does the defenders face have to be so buried into the dunkers crotch? It looks like his throat is taking a charge. Gross. That is offensive. I feel uncomfortable. Yet if the fella being dunked on was turning his head, I think it would be an acceptable ad.

How many millions of dollars did NIKE spend on highly paid consultants and ad professionals to design this ad, when they could have just pulled someone off the nearest corner to tell them that it was a bad idea?

Whether it’s men vying to run the country or corporations the size of a country, they each could benefit from a little more common sense.

Is Peyton Manning the Governor of Indiana? You decide…

The Mysteries of the copy edit

I received the copy edit of my manuscript yesterday and quickly realized there’s no way I could be a copy editor.

The attention to detail is phenomenal, almost inhuman. Extra spaces are deleted, words that shouldn’t be capitalized are un-capitalized and ones that should be are, that’s and which’s are used properly, and a host of other grammatical and style issues are corrected. All of this hard work that will make me look much smarter than I am has been done by someone who has remained nameless to this point.

To that nameless someone…

“I’m sorry for all of the oversights. You must think I’m an idiot. Thanks for your hard work.”

The copy edit Style Sheet came with a Word List. I’m not exactly sure what the word list is, but I think that it is made up of words in the manuscript that can be styled in a number of different ways and terms that aren’t typically used like birdman and PO-ed. One thing I can’t quite figure out is that some of the words in the list are words that I don’t use in the book.

For example:

I don’t mention Warren Buffett (on the list) in the book, but I do write about Jimmy Buffett (not on the list).

(Note: My book will likely be found in the Business book section. The above sentence pretty much sums up what kind of business book it is.)

The word list and the copy editors are just two of the mysteries of the copy edit. I’ll be spending most of the next two weeks pouring through the edit, I’ll let you know if I come across any other mysteries.

Until then, here’s a list of the F-words found in the book and here’s a sentence using a few of them:

The Fed flip-flopped friggin’ French toast on Fantasy Island.

F
Fantasy Island
farang
Federal Reserve System, the Fed
feng shui
first-aid (adj), first aid (n)
firsthand
flat-screen TV
flip-flop
flowchart
follow-through (n); follow-through (adj)
follow-up (n); follow up (v)
footbed
foreign-invested firms
Foreword
Free Trade Union of the Workers of the Kingdom of Cambodia (FTUWKC)
French toast
friggin’
Frisbee
front-end loading

UPDATE: “Set up” is two words, not one, nor is it hyphenated
UPDATE: There’s no apostrophe in 1970s

To jet-ski or not to jet-ski

I’ve never been much of a fan of the jet-ski. I’ve always looked at them as reckless boat parasites that tailed skiers too close in search of wakes to jump.

This weekend when I found myself on a jet-ski having fun, I was a bit surprised. I had been on jet-skis before and they never really did it for me. But I never had been on a jet-ski with my nephew, Jared, 4.

That little guy sat in front of me urging me to go faster and to do more tricks. He made motor sounds. He talked to himself as if he were at the wheel of a race car or spaceship. Who knows?

We had a blast. Check us out…

The Hobbit set to Led Zeppelin’s “Ramble On”

One of my favorite songs about travel and one of my favorite books seamlessly merge into a boatload of major geekery. Enjoy:

This seasons hot new travel accessory…BABIES!

Joshua Berman, aka The Tranquilo Traveler, recently visited Belize with his wife and sparkly-eyed, smiling infant – Shanti.

She. Is. Adorable.

You have to stop what you are doing right this minute and checkout this photo set or miss Shanti in a Mennonite cart, Shanti making friends at the Jerk Pit, Shanti sucking on a cold beer, and other cutenesses.

(What I imagine to be) Advantages of traveling with a cute baby
- easy to make friends with the locals
- Acceptably butt in line at airport
- Never be bored again

Shanti even has her own passport! Oh, if only Annie would let me get our one year old a passport and take him/her with me wherever I go. The fun we would have. I doubt our baby will be leaving the country anytime soon.

I tend to lose things.

UNITE to NYC garment factory: You underpaid workers about $5 million

The garment industry in the U.S. started in the north-east, followed cheaper labor overseas, and eventually, for the most part, jumped our borders. I know that LA is still (in)famous for its garment factories, but I had no idea that the needles were still thumping away in NYC.

These factories haven’t slipped beneath UNITE’s radar. From UNITE’s recent press release:

“This latest investigation shows that horrible sweatshop working conditions are still present in New York City and that the apparel industry is still not taking this issue seriously,” said Bruce Raynor, General President of UNITE HERE, the apparel and textile workers union. “The major apparel brands that were using this factory all have social responsibility systems that have failed to detect this major sweatshop operation.”

The factory that was recently cited, Jin Shun in Long Island City, NY, has operated under a number of different names, and was found to have underpaid more than 100 workers over several years. The Department of Labor stated that the contractor kept false records and coached its workers to lie to inspectors. The investigation also revealed that workers routinely worked twelve-hour days, six to seven days-a-week.

Not to belittle a workday of 12-hours or anything, but my dad has been working 12-hours six to seven days a week for about 35 years. Poor fella. Although, I suspect he pays himself a little better than what the workers at the Jin Shun get paid.

A warning: There be reporters lurking

I’ve been warned that I should watch what I write because the media is starting to lurk in these parts.

This is a good thing, but as I watch the number of visitors grow each month a bit of me longs for the day when most of the hits to my blog were me. And since I knew how stupid I could be already, there was no real concern about writing something stupid or posting, say, this photo.

I’m pretty sure I haven’t said anything that stupid or offensive the three years I’ve been blogging. Most of the credit for this should go to Annie who has silently lurked on my blogs from Day One, making sure that I don’t say anything that embarrasses her.

Thankfully she has enough shame for both of us.

I’m sure that in the future (unless the internet implodes) my seventy-year-old self will stumble upon Where am I Wearing? and perhaps even the good ol’ days of Touron Talk and think, “What the hell?”