Wait Dad is feeling all kinds of stupid lazy today.
So, first, Wait Dad is gonna power nap,
for three hours.
Cause that's lazy.
Then, second, he's gonna put on jammy pants.
Cause jammy pants are lazy and fun to say out loud.
Just say it.
Jammy pants.
. . . Say it . . .
Next, and thirdly,
Wait . . . is "thirdly" even a word?
If it is . . . then it's a lazy word.
Fourth, Wait Dad is gonna turn on the TV and then sit down and watch whatever is on, cause he forgot to grab the remote first.
Not getting back up to find the remote is all kinds of lazy.
That's lazier than cruise control and easy cheese. It's lazier than cat ownership and peeing in the shower.
Not getting back up to find the remote would make the lazy hall of fame if only lazy people would find some initiative and organize long enough to quantify and collate their lack of action.
But they would never do something like that.
Cause they're lazy.
Let's Do Launch
Wait . . . Dad?
Yeah?
Are you gonna be on the computer all day?
No. I just have to finish this video, build a website, and establish a presence on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, MySpace and Pinterest, send some notes to the mixer and check the account to see if I've got enough fun money to get some new strings, . . . and then the computer is all yours for the rest of the day.
So . . . dad?
Yes?
So . . . like twenty minutes?
Early last year, as it looked like this project would be finished before the summer was out, (my crew says HA HA HA), I decided implicitly that I was going to focus on recording, performing, and content creation.
Find someone else to mold the message.
Find someone else to package the product.
Find someone else to sell it to the people.
Yeah.
That didn't go so well.
Everyone wants to be a freak, but no one wants to be Barnum.
And the media is in such flux that an MFA in Marketing is hopelessly out of date before the ink dries.
I talked with a gal who was running a hip new production company. The kind of company that I would've paid some serious money to in order to do the kind of things that I'm am guerrilla styling now.
She asked me what my writing was like.
Trying to find a way to describe this cunning mixture of suburban dad humor and punk rock ranting, I told her that the concept was like Dave Barry meets Henry Rollins.
She stared at me for a moment.
Then told me she had no idea who those people were.
And here's the thing. I didn't pursue the company because she wasn't familiar with a columnist for the Miami Herald or because she probably didn't own any Black Flag albums; I didn't pursue it cause she had no idea how to lie to me.
The least she could have done was nod her head, say "Awesome" and then Googled them later.
How can you sell me and not know how to bullshit your way out of a little chit chat?
To be a key demographic for me doesn't require a PhD in pop culture references, but you do have to have at least watched some Star Wars movies and listened to the Beatles.
Not the Stones so much.
But you should have purchased the White Album at least twice.
The best part of the modern world is that consumption of my style of guerrilla indie pop is at an all time high.
The problem is that the consumers are fragmented into their own little niches.
Case in point:
Last night, at the dinner table, my 20 year old son was doodling around on his Facebook, whilst his 19 year old cousin was engrossed in her Instagram universe.
And here's the thing: I spend three to four hours crafting a hilarious essay on modern marketing, post it, and get 20 views, 2 comments, and 1 like.
The two kids I had dinner with last night put up a note saying how boring their chemistry professor is and the response is deafening.
57 other kids jump in and agree, disagree, or wanna know when dinner's over so they can hang out.
Within the first three minutes.
Which I think is effing awesome.
I just gotta figure out a way to figuratively tap that.
Which means being everywhere.
All the time.
And awesome.
All the time.
And finished.
In twenty minutes.
Yeah?
Are you gonna be on the computer all day?
No. I just have to finish this video, build a website, and establish a presence on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, MySpace and Pinterest, send some notes to the mixer and check the account to see if I've got enough fun money to get some new strings, . . . and then the computer is all yours for the rest of the day.
So . . . dad?
Yes?
So . . . like twenty minutes?
Early last year, as it looked like this project would be finished before the summer was out, (my crew says HA HA HA), I decided implicitly that I was going to focus on recording, performing, and content creation.
Find someone else to mold the message.
Find someone else to package the product.
Find someone else to sell it to the people.
Yeah.
That didn't go so well.
Everyone wants to be a freak, but no one wants to be Barnum.
And the media is in such flux that an MFA in Marketing is hopelessly out of date before the ink dries.
I talked with a gal who was running a hip new production company. The kind of company that I would've paid some serious money to in order to do the kind of things that I'm am guerrilla styling now.
She asked me what my writing was like.
Trying to find a way to describe this cunning mixture of suburban dad humor and punk rock ranting, I told her that the concept was like Dave Barry meets Henry Rollins.
She stared at me for a moment.
Then told me she had no idea who those people were.
And here's the thing. I didn't pursue the company because she wasn't familiar with a columnist for the Miami Herald or because she probably didn't own any Black Flag albums; I didn't pursue it cause she had no idea how to lie to me.
The least she could have done was nod her head, say "Awesome" and then Googled them later.
How can you sell me and not know how to bullshit your way out of a little chit chat?
To be a key demographic for me doesn't require a PhD in pop culture references, but you do have to have at least watched some Star Wars movies and listened to the Beatles.
Not the Stones so much.
But you should have purchased the White Album at least twice.
The best part of the modern world is that consumption of my style of guerrilla indie pop is at an all time high.
The problem is that the consumers are fragmented into their own little niches.
Case in point:
Last night, at the dinner table, my 20 year old son was doodling around on his Facebook, whilst his 19 year old cousin was engrossed in her Instagram universe.
And here's the thing: I spend three to four hours crafting a hilarious essay on modern marketing, post it, and get 20 views, 2 comments, and 1 like.
The two kids I had dinner with last night put up a note saying how boring their chemistry professor is and the response is deafening.
57 other kids jump in and agree, disagree, or wanna know when dinner's over so they can hang out.
Within the first three minutes.
Which I think is effing awesome.
I just gotta figure out a way to figuratively tap that.
Which means being everywhere.
All the time.
And awesome.
All the time.
And finished.
In twenty minutes.
Self Help Our Ship Five
There was an adorable little email sent to me a few days ago quoting from a book by noted self help guru John C. Maxwell.
It was about the power of belief and contained such circular logical gems like "If you believe you can't, then you can't."
Which is just amazingly true.
John C. Maxwell knows his shit.
Especially when you consider that its the same reason Luke Skywalker couldn't use the force to lift his X-Wing fighter out of the swamps of Dagobah.
Maxwell must be an "Empire Strikes Back" fan too.
There is no way in hell you're gonna lift your X-Wing fighter out of the swamp if you don't believe you can.
I promise.
And you have to give John C. Maxwell some serious props for sheer tenacity. The dude has sold millions of books filled the same bumper sticker twaddle. Millions. With an "M"
And don't get me wrong.
I have nothing against self help books. I know people who write them. Good ones. Practical ones. The kind of self help books that fill you with esteem and pack you an extra sandwich for your journey.
John C. Maxwell doesn't pack sandwiches.
He just points to dirt and tells you not to drink it.
Then condescendingly makes you feel bad for being thirsty.
I just have such a problem using the term "Belief" in the first place. "Belief" is a dead end. It's a justification for ignorance, and functionally ends the debate.
And I'm not saying all belief is bad. Go ahead and believe in the Ten Commandments and that menstration is God's punishment for eating from the tree of knowledge. I'll just sit over in this room glad that you're not my gynecologist.
But here's the thing . . . Why not replace the word "Belief" with the word "Confidence"?
Sure, I can say that I believe the sky is blue.
But in actuality, I have confidence the sky is blue because I have compared the color to other colors and blue is the mutually agreed upon word to describe that color.
Luke failed because he didn't believe?
Or did he fail because he had nothing to compare the experience to and therefore had no confidence that it could be done?
Self help is about confidence. It's not about belief. You can believe all you want that flapping your arms fast enough is gonna help you fly.
I have confidence its not.
Self help is about removing obstacles. Clearing your head. Giving you a few things to try and possibly a Bob Fett bandaid for when you fall and scrape your knee.
Self Help is about identifying all the things that strip you of your worth and make those first few steps feel just a little more possible than they were yesterday.
The obstacles are all different. Visions, Missions, Challenges, and dreams.
So for all the obstacles out there, here (I write with confidence) is a self help five, to give you a little confidence, and maybe start you on your way.
But I believe I'm not smart?
There were two, count em, two Presidents who couldn't pronounce NUCLEAR.
But I believe I'm not Talented!
Jackson Pollack, William Shatner, Anthony Keidis.
But I believe I'm not sexy!
If there is anyone willing to have sex with you . . . you're sexy!
But I believe I'm not capable!
Find someone who is and make friends.
But I believe I'm not ready!
Probably not. But no one ever is.
Believe me.
It was about the power of belief and contained such circular logical gems like "If you believe you can't, then you can't."
Which is just amazingly true.
John C. Maxwell knows his shit.
Especially when you consider that its the same reason Luke Skywalker couldn't use the force to lift his X-Wing fighter out of the swamps of Dagobah.
Maxwell must be an "Empire Strikes Back" fan too.
There is no way in hell you're gonna lift your X-Wing fighter out of the swamp if you don't believe you can.
I promise.
And you have to give John C. Maxwell some serious props for sheer tenacity. The dude has sold millions of books filled the same bumper sticker twaddle. Millions. With an "M"
And don't get me wrong.
I have nothing against self help books. I know people who write them. Good ones. Practical ones. The kind of self help books that fill you with esteem and pack you an extra sandwich for your journey.
John C. Maxwell doesn't pack sandwiches.
He just points to dirt and tells you not to drink it.
Then condescendingly makes you feel bad for being thirsty.
I just have such a problem using the term "Belief" in the first place. "Belief" is a dead end. It's a justification for ignorance, and functionally ends the debate.
And I'm not saying all belief is bad. Go ahead and believe in the Ten Commandments and that menstration is God's punishment for eating from the tree of knowledge. I'll just sit over in this room glad that you're not my gynecologist.
But here's the thing . . . Why not replace the word "Belief" with the word "Confidence"?
Sure, I can say that I believe the sky is blue.
But in actuality, I have confidence the sky is blue because I have compared the color to other colors and blue is the mutually agreed upon word to describe that color.
Luke failed because he didn't believe?
Or did he fail because he had nothing to compare the experience to and therefore had no confidence that it could be done?
Self help is about confidence. It's not about belief. You can believe all you want that flapping your arms fast enough is gonna help you fly.
I have confidence its not.
Self help is about removing obstacles. Clearing your head. Giving you a few things to try and possibly a Bob Fett bandaid for when you fall and scrape your knee.
Self Help is about identifying all the things that strip you of your worth and make those first few steps feel just a little more possible than they were yesterday.
The obstacles are all different. Visions, Missions, Challenges, and dreams.
So for all the obstacles out there, here (I write with confidence) is a self help five, to give you a little confidence, and maybe start you on your way.
But I believe I'm not smart?
There were two, count em, two Presidents who couldn't pronounce NUCLEAR.
But I believe I'm not Talented!
Jackson Pollack, William Shatner, Anthony Keidis.
But I believe I'm not sexy!
If there is anyone willing to have sex with you . . . you're sexy!
But I believe I'm not capable!
Find someone who is and make friends.
But I believe I'm not ready!
Probably not. But no one ever is.
Believe me.
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