The Little Words Mean the Most

The truth

Nat'l videoconference from a room in Providence

It was a little strange. You sit in a small conference room set up for video depositions. This is an ancient office building next to the state supreme court. My audience is child advocacy centers across America. We're talking about donor newsletters and how to improve them, so they bring in more gifts and retain more donors. Alaska is online, watching a streaming video of me. We exchange Sarah Palin references; I ask them to send salmon. What's weird is this: I can only see two sites, St. Paul and Huntsville. And I can see me, which is disturbing. Plus there's a delay. People laugh at my jokes (if they laugh at my jokes) 5 seconds after I make them. We have a great time. L-r: me pondering the set-up, the gig in progress.

I love my clients' marketing committees

They're so much fun to torture.

Speaking in NYC at CASE/NAIS

L-r: on the train down from New London to Penn Station; and thruout my 10-block walk, it poured, with high sideways winds and darkness (this is Times Square at noon); the Astor Ballroom, my gladiatorial arena seating hundreds; me lunging toward a point during the rehearsal; ooh, baby: Times Square.

The Film Wisdom of Doris Day

"Please stop crying! I'm only going around the world!"

Change you can cease to believe in

An observation: when the internal flacks start saying the public mood is wrong, it's time to start wondering who will be electable next time. On Sunday, White House adviser Valerie Jarrett said (let's get the verb right: claimed) that the president has brought about "enormous change."

If by "change" she means that lobbyists now ride Congress like a merry-go-round, okay, I agree. Washington has changed: from bad to worse. That was the trend. That was inevitable. I voted for Barack Obama to reverse the flow; apparently, that's not going to happen.

For voters, Obama was the embodiment of a Hollywood fantasy they adored. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. An American President.

In truth, President Obama seems to be (the jury's still out) the man who couldn't shoot straight. His aim is off. His brain trust underwhelms. He sprinkles caution on his breakfast cereal. I declare my membership in a new third party: The Deeply Disappointed.

Moops for Friday nite pizza and a movie

The movie: District 9. Immigrant aliens park their immense but stranded space craft above Johannesburg, South Africa, and settle into degrading camps. Food for the movie: a dish consisting of grapes, apple slices, and maple-smoked sausage from top producer Fortuna, pan-braised in olive oil, butter, balsamic vinegar, and red wine, mixed with sauteed spinach; PLUS thin-crust pizzas. Pizza #1: vodka-tomato sauce, with sliced peppers and pepperoni bits. Pizza #2: white with corn relish and guacamole. Both pizzas topped with two grated cheddars, horseradish and sharp. Ahhhhh! Sigh! Trad on the cocktails: dry martinis with blue-cheese-stuffed olives. The Moops coconut cream pied the dessert. L-r: Mrs. Lauramoop raises a glass to a tough week, the laundry toilet and miracle light room where the washing machine weeps, the (few) unheated leftover slices. This is why pizza is a complete food: it's good hot or cold.

 

Too big to fail?

Too big to succeed is more apt. These institutions aren't super-smart. They're super-oblivious and sacro-indifferent; those are their special super powers. You know who does far better for you and me, because they're still truly close to the customer? Community banks. They offer 99% of what you need. The other 1%, the tote bag with the world-famous-for-their-obscene-bonuses screen-printed logo? Pass.

My very first palindrome

I am an addendum.

Eye, Robert