Grown Ups Talking

In a vague bid to further my education in things that I do and like, I, Pomerol, have been going to arty/designy lectures recently.

Not all of them are a success. Lecturers are often trying to add the occasion to their resume and promote, i.e., find a buyer, for their work. Or they parlay this public, slobbering, orgy of self-congratulation into a series of grants which allow them to pursue their artsiness in exotic locations and sleep with the thriller writer.

Fortunately tonight’s was interesting. The speaker was this geeky typography guy. Now I am a designer and I mess about with type most days. I know much more than most people and I actually teach typography. But this guy was craaazy. He spent ten years fiddling about with one book. He hand prints them and paints color on them individually. He photographs carved medieval letters and designs alphabets based on them and incorporates them into his prints.

See, this is a strange nether world of single-minded lunatics. Type is Art, books are amazing masterpieces which take years to complete, their quest is in the stars and between the lines.

I like type, but I’m not really in his league. It is, however, interesting to observe these creatures in their natural habitat.

But one thing struck me once again. Typography is all about presenting words. The phrase “it’s not what you say but how you say it” is typography all over. For instance, Bush and Obama both said, America doesn’t torture. Its all in the presentation.

And before I forget, how ’bout that universal health care plan? Wa hey! And good luck. He’s going to need it. —Pomerol

With Fox News behind them every step of the way, Republicans continue their political posturing on the stimulus package. Now that the bill has become law and states can take a chunk of money and start moving in the right direction (and by the right direction I mean job creation), a handful of Republicans refuse to break with party lines for the greater good. They are grandstanding–running around the country telling all who will listen that they refuse to take the money.

Fine. Shut up, go home, and try to piece together your states with no help.

It seems they are having a problem figuring out how to spend the money wisely, and admitting that Obama has done a good thing. As our president said yesterday, “If we agree on 90 percent of this stuff, and we’re spending all our time on television arguing about 1, 2, 3 percent of the spending in this thing … that starts sounding more like politics.” Amen.

Republican governors like California’s Arnold Schwarzenegger, Florida’s Charlie Crist, and Indian Mitch Daniels, all support the president’s efforts and plan on taking the money and running their state.

Loud mouth opponents, who insist on channeling Ronald Reagan, such as Louisiana’s Bobby Jindal, Mississippi’s Haley Barbour, and South Carolina’s Mark Sandford, are whining about deficit spending. Funny, I don’t remember this trio feigning indignation about deficit spending when Cowboy Bush was in office.

Louisiana and Mississippi regularly rank as two of our nation’s poorest states, with median household incomes of $39,337 and $34,473 respectively. South Carolina is somewhere in the middle with a median household income of $43,508. The lower numbers represent about half the household income of our three richest states Maryland ($65,144), New Jersey ($64,470), and Connecticut ($63,422).

Furthermore, the governors of those states, O’Malley (Maryland), Corzine (New Jersey) and Rell (Connecticut), plan to accept and use the funds to stimulate their state economies. Well, isn’t that a novel idea.

To the governors that continue to fiddle political tunes while their states burn, I say, governors heal thy states. I know I am mixing metaphors, idioms, and Bible quotes, but it can’t be any worse than the Republican hogwash, I mean rhetoric, that we have to endure this week. – Chianti.

Check out this website: glossedover.com. It’s a very silly look at fashion magazines by someone who is actually into reading them, but takes shots at their more ridiculous pronouncements.

I, Pomerol, have had occasion to work at fashion mags as well. They spend money on classy design and imaginative photoshoots. They celebrate luxury and trend-setting creativity. They are frivolous, silly, expensive, and spread scary images of anorexic teenagers and low-self esteem. They are also lots of fun.

This is the modern woman’s dilemma. You like some aspects of the mainstream and you despise others. Hard to be a hardliner these days.—Pomerol

Racing around the neighborhood coffee cafes, tearing through second hand bookshops, speeding through a museum over the weekend. Yes, its waiting for work time again. Don’t get me wrong, the work is there, its just that the workees, or providers, or snails, haven’t gotten it together to give it to me yet.

Most world citizens prefer activity to gormless ceiling-gazing, but as the economy slows and facebook beckons, the population is being lulled into a zombie-like state of can’t do anything, might as well do nothing, what’s on television.

But I, Pomerol, am champing at the bit. Each time I am threatened with sleeping in, I kick myself in the ankle and shout at myself to get up and get going. Being a bossless person, this is life as usual. It’s harder to do when you’re waiting.

And I guess a lot of people are waiting to be stimulated. Don’t you think there is something a little tacky about this language? There goes Obama, check out his package. Feeling stimulated?

My needs are simple. I just want some work. And not to get thrown out of my flat.—Pomerol

I think a lot of this is psychological. Republicans think they can still stymie Democrats. Democrats think they didn’t win the election. You listen to these guys talk and it sounds like last October.

Meanwhile the slipper has been gaining some modest success with one of his projects, I haven’t been laid off yet, knock on wood, and I may go nuts and go jogging (jogging!) tomorrow. Education, so far, is muddling through in Brooklyn, and while part of my income is education based, we won’t be completely screwed for a while.

But stores are closing down. Students are quitting school. 20,000 people are getting laid off at Caterpillar. Those politicians need to look reality in the face and realize that there is an enormous tribe of unemployed growing everyday and if nothing is done, there will be what? riots? massive strikes? blood? probably all three.

Someone said, the hardest thing to do is to get people to do something a different way. This starts at the top. Or not.—Pomerol

I was never a big fan of A-Rod (New York Yankees slugging third baseman Alex Rodriguez), and I feel no need to drone on about his status as a fallen hero. I think the guy did the right thing by coming clean about his steroid use between 2001 and 2003. He has nipped all the controversy in the bud. It is hard to keep the rumor mill pumping when the truth is out there quickly.

Instead, I’d rather address the issue of hero worship. My thoughts: Stop it.

If you need a hero, don’t pick the athlete that makes the most money or the one with the most trophies or endorsements. Look up to someone because they give their time to charity (Roberto Clemente), have a formidable work ethic (Cal Ripken), come to the ball park everyday for the love of the game (Joe Jackson), or do their job with quiet grace and toughness (Joe Dimaggio).

Professional athletes may be super human on the playing field, but they are human, with all the blemishes and faults the rest of us have – only they are in the spotlight. Remember, Ty Cobb was a bastard; Mickey Mantle was caught carousing drunk in public, a lot; and the 1919 White Sox threw the World Series.

Do they have a responsibility to young people who may idolize them? Sort of. It’s just decent to be nice to kids and if you are in the glare of the spotlight, it’s probably a good idea for your career to try to do the right thing.

But ultimately, kids need a bit of guidance when hanging all their hero hopes on one superstar that most adults can clearly see is sending the wrong message. We all might just do better to look around at the people we work and play with every day, and find the hero in them.

In that way, we can leave all the hype created around pro athletes where it belongs: in the world of entertainment, somewhere between American Idol and Survivor. – Chianti.

If I hear one more word about how it is UnAmerican to cap executive salaries my head is going to explode. I am talking about, of course, President Obama’s new rules to limit executive compensation at the financial institutions that took government bailout money.

As you know, one of my pet peeves is the claim that America is a free market. It is not. It may be the closest thing the world has to a free market, but it is not the Real McCoy. If it was, we would have let dozens of big banks – and hundreds of little ones – fail. But we did not.

No, the great free market cheerleader, Cowboy Bush, rushed to rescue the banks, which was probably a good move. Then yesterday, President Obama placed rules around executive compensation for any company that took taxpayer money to prop up their bank.

That too is a good move. Until the company pays the taxpayers back, they have to be responsible with their money.

The big outcry over the cap – including all the jabber coming from Fox Watchers (my friends and relatives that watch Fox News and somehow think the reporters and commentators have something valid to offer) – is that these financial institutions will not be able to retain competent managers if they cannot use golden handcuffs. In other words, if the banks don’t offer huge pay and perk packages, these captains of the banking industry will walk away from their jobs.

That argument falls flat on its face. If these guys were so competent in the first place, then why did their banks nose dive as soon as the economy got shaky, and insist on a government handout to survive. You say it’s the economy? Well, not exactly – big banks like the Royal Bank of Canada and little banks like Kearny Federal Savings and Loan – are doing just fine. That’s probably because some banks had competent managers.

Let’s face it, paying someone a lot of money was never a true measure of competence – it was just a measure of bold deal making and aggressive negotiations. And that’s what got banks into trouble in the first place.

If the bigwigs don’t like the salary cap, let them leave; within 5 minutes of their departure, 100 more bank executives will be lined up to take their place. After all, that’s how the free market works. – Chianti

All hail the conquering warriors – weekend, Monday night, and some Thursday warriors that is. The New York Times and Wall Street Journal both ran front page stories on the Super Bowl this morning. I suppose the World Cup champions get the same kind of royal treatment.

Don’t me wrong. I watched most of the game, and enjoyed it, even after Springsteen performed at half time. I understand the nuances, and appreciated how Pittsburgh Steeler’s linebacker James Harrison faked a blitz, fell back into the pocket, snagged Kurt Warner’s short pass, and ran it back for the longest touchdown in Super Bowl history. I know that Santonio Holmes’s end zone catch will be forever linked with Franco Harris’s 1972 Immaculate Reception. I get it.

But I think the nation, and perhaps the world judging by the front-page status the game received by two international newspapers, is more enamored with victory than with football. The world loves a winner.

As put so succinctly by Sean Connery’s character John Mason in the movie “The Rock,” after Nicholas Cage’s character insists that he is doing his “best,” Mason spits back: “Your best! Loser always whine about their ‘best!’ Winner go home and f#*k the prom queen.”

And so it goes, winners and their macho sycophants are measured in victories. Not by the effort and pure grit expended by someone that overcomes a lack of talent with pure determination; not by the time spent with an ailing friend or loved one in place of schmoozing with clients; not by making the decision to stay home to read a book to your kids and tuck them in, rather than work late for the 20th time this month.

Well, I guess I just define winners a little differently, and I am unapologetic about believing that nice guys very often finish first in life – it’s just that those types of winners never make front-page news. – Chianti