The Little Words Mean the Most

NYC police have pepper-spray

Occupy Wall Street has trombones. No CONTEST!

Why my clients hate me

I've got one client so upset with me they're purple. I've got another client giving me the silent treatment because they didn't accept the tone of my case and I told them they were dead wrong. And I've got a third client that DOES like the case but doesn't think the senior leadership will accept it, because it's not happy face, like before. But, you know ... I'm not complaining. I like it, actually. Feels right. This is exactly what should happen when you do powerful, emotional work, and the client isn't used to it. They should balk.

You're supposed to worry about client reactions, if you want to stay in business. But I couldn't care less. All I care about is, Will the client make more money my way? There is no other goal for me. That's it: one thing. I want to win. Every campaign is a competition. Surprisingly (not really), clients often have other goals they value more than money.

I try to make the personal interaction fun for them; we share good phone. But you know ...... a fundraiser's life is not easier with me around. They get grief from colleagues. They get grief from board members. They get grief from bosses. All the untrained critics come out to play, and the fundraiser has to swallow the noise.

I get a lot of transition groups, too, trying to sharpen their fundraising messages. They've been soft. They want to go hard. But the real stuff, reinforced with tough emotional messages and psychological triggers, is miles beyond what they're used to. They've always had quiet and safe and rational. NGOs run by bureaucrats and grantmakers. Conservationists. Social workers. Now ... they're afraid.

What goes on here, deep in the heart of WWII

It's pumpkin seed time (oh sweet lord)

You can use hollowed-out sugar pumpkins as seasonal soup bowls; it's fun and tasty. Which leaves the seeds, strung on slimy threads. Wash off the threads in a collander. Air dry the seeds. Coat them lightly with olive oil and seasonings. I start with shaker salt and put my hand in the bowl. When the seeds feel gritty, you're done. Then a semi-spicy BBQ dry rub I picked up at some airport out west. Then paprika, a couple of shakes per cereal-bowlful of seeds. Spread the oiled and seasoned pumpkin seeds across a cookie sheet. Slide under the oven broiler. Do not leave the room. These roast FAST. They'll start popping within seconds. Keep a keen eye. When they start to burn on the periphery, remove the cookie sheet. Let cool (the seeds will continue to cook). Eat. Hoard. Let no one know you've done this, or the seeds will disappear within minutes. Oh, so good.

Saw Priscilla, Queen of the Desert

... on Broadway. A Bette Midler musical. And true-life documentary of Australia's back country. I was there in September and the likeness is amazing. In other news.... I don't recommend this to everyone, but.... There is a place I accidentally ran into while Googling the term "amy.com." The accidental discovery was a site called Pretty Things Academy, which advertises Pin-Up Modeling Classes. Apparently, Pretty Things will teach any woman, including very brief women, how to dress for the vaudeville stage and blow fire out their face.

Making outfits for a 5-day trip: Willing slave to Simone's fashion, on the road to San Fran and Minneapolis

L-r: Choosing the tights for the black jacket. Earrings and scarf for a casual night out. Choosing the tights for the steel jacket. Click 2 enlarge.

[The novel....] "You are such a self-serving phony. And the worst part is, you don't even know it. Like all of us from time to time. Except you enjoy it."

1% against 99%: You call that a class war?

Sounds like a de facto tyranny to me. We got rid of King George. Now we have King Rich.

The only people still benefiting in the USA 30 years after Reagan's election are the filthy rich. Filthier by the year. Now it's our turn.

Loving fall