Now I know that by posting this I'm playing directly into the hands of the viral marketing team at OfficeMax (and not those stuffed shirts at Office Depot mind you), but hafta say, in this instance, the fun-to-advertising ratio is more than favorable. The concept is clever and entertaining, the execution is top drawer, and the OM logo is a diminutive little tab down in the corner.
It’s a Flash site that lets you paste your picture into the head of a slightly rubenesque elf, and then watch him/her dance around like, well, a drunk guest at the office Christmas party.
My friend Kat Bauer first sent me this using her face, and I promptly tried it with my head, but then I remembered that I already had a video of me dancing like this, except I was in a French maid’s outfit instead of an elf’s—and I was covered in corn syrup (some of you might’ve seen it on YouTube…)
On the flip side, it’s not hard to imagine this getting out of hand when college students, tired with using friend’s and relative’s mugs, turn to other body parts for the plump little sprite’s bean. Yikes...
Beloved Illustrator Jotto Seibold, known by most for his “Mr. Lunch” and “Olive the Other Reindeer” children’s books, recently had his eponymous website "jotto.com" purloined recently by some shithead cybersquatter.
For now anyway, if you go there, there's a crap online gambling site.I'm both pissed and troubled at the same time. Mr. Seibold was one of the first illustrators to exploit the possibilities of the web. It's painfully ironic that something like this would happen to him of all people.
The big question for me is, what kind of sociopathic maladroit finds pleasure in things like this? I'm trying to imagine the stank-breath cretin that did it: "After I’m done scratchng my balls here, I'm fixin’ to replace this sublime oasis of art and beauty with a f**king online casino, because there just ain't enough of ’em to go around…"
My current theory is that, on some sub-atomic level, it’s not enough for crap to fill only the empty voids of space, it must also corrupt and destroy anything that’s not crap.
For the time being, Jotto has set up a temporary URL with only a splash screen at quincythp.com, but in case you’ve never seen his work, you’re in for a real treat. Here’s a couple of quick links for you to check out.
According to sources (ie: all the cool-hunter trend sites I never have time to read) this Ze Frank (Zay- Frank) fella is the Funniest Guy on the Web. Damn, I was really hoping that spot was still open.
Check out his helpful instructional video on "Finger Food" (not what you're expecting), then as usual, settle in with a tube of Pringles and be prepared to waste, oh, about 2 hours watching the rest of the archived series. bb ÷ ]
Well folks, I think it’s high time for some good ol’ self-promotion (right Bob — like a blog isn’t like one big giant ego trip all by itself…) After messing around for a couple of years playing for anyone fortunate enough to own a grand piano, the scrappy little jazz trio I play in got a gig that should offer something more in the way of compensation besides the hearty “you guys were great” or as much bar-b-q as we can eat.
Ladies and gentlemen,bluetonicinvades the unsuspecting Sapphire Hotel this coming Sunday night, December 10th at 8:00 PM.
After several weeks of begging, electric cello-monster Gideon Freudmann finally relented and agreed to put in a guest appearence with the group. There's also a few surprises rumored that I can neither confirm nor deny at this time, but it looks to be a total gas — I can hardly wait…
Tickets are available at Ticketmaster™ and all the usual outlets… Well, actually, there’s no charge to get in, but you’d better buy something while you’re there—you can’t just sit there watching the band! And don’t forget to tip your server!!
You know, it's funny, I think Craig Carothers has played here 10 times in the past few years, and for some reason during all those shows I've never thought to take pictures — probably has something to do with the fact that I'm running around like a preist with a secret the day of the show trying to get everything ready.
It's a shame because he's consistently transcendant, and I always end up wishing I had some record of the evening. This time was no different in regard to racing around like mad to get the house in shape, except that this time I did manage to snag a few jpegs of the performance for posterity.
True to form, Mr. Carothers once again had people at turns either bawling like infants or cackling like teenage girls—what a talent.
If I ever meet Jonathan Gay, I’m gonna kick him in the nuts... either that or buy him lunch. It terrifies me to think about how much time I’ve wasted looking at stuff like this.
Now consider how much time this fella spent writing the script.
And yet, I still can’t look away... (bonus points if you can name the tune.)
Some of you might’ve noticed that I’ve got my apporach a little backwards here, posting Gideon Freudmann’s Dec 2nd house concert last week, and then posting Craig Carothers’ November 18th show today. But c'mon—Jack Elam!
Seriously though, if you’ve been, you know how quickly Craig can fill a room, so if you’re thinking you want to reserve a seat or two, you’d better do it sooner than later.
Just drop me a line and let me know if you want to come.
I wonder if this is what it was like in Rome during those last days.
For those of you who like your irony well-done, here’s an interesting bit of trivia (for laughs, swap out “Romans” with “United States”—hilarious!).
“The largest organised rival of the Romans was the Persian Empire to the east, occupying modern Syria, Iran, Iraq, and Afghanistan. The Persians were the political descendants of the Parthians who had revolted away from Greek rule following Alexander's conquests and, thereafter, successfully resisted Roman invasions.”
After several quiet months, the Tabor Neigbor™ House Concert Series gets going again with a bang (or was that more of a “boing..?”).
First off, prodigal brother-in-law Craig Carothers will again grace our presence as he makes his Fall swing through the Northwest on Saturday, November 18th. Tickets are $10, doors open at 7:00 PM.
2 weeks later,Gideon Freudmann plays here on Saturday, December 2nd, at 7:00 PM. Do yourself a huge favor and click on Gideon's name up there; go on now, I’ll wait...
After you do that, prepare to email me your reservation, because you are not going to want to miss this one!
Gideon plays this wacky electric cello that bears a striking resemblence to one of those cartoon boat anchors. He runs it though a series of digital looping effects, allowing him to, as his press kit states: “…conduct a virtual symphony from the body of a single instrument.” Or as I state: “…cause everybody’s jaw to hit the floor in utter astonishment.”
Since my rocking Flash-tacular design website is still sort of, uh, “gestating” — I thought I’d use this space to post some of the recent work I have simmering. To wit: this poster I did for Stumptown folk legends Kate Power and Steve Einhorn of Artichoke Music. There isn't a muscian's life here that hasn't been touched in some way by their humble music store on Hawthorne. People who know them affectionately refer to Kate and Steve as “Mr & Mrs Artichoke,” which is why there is a pair of artichokes on the poster. (awww...)
Not only are they are two of the nicest people in town, they recently took home a 1st prize trophy at the 2006 Kerrville Folk Festival for Kate’s warily poignant ode to one of the first Oregon soldiers killed in Iraq, “Travis John.”
I had breakfast with them recently, and am giddy to be able to work with artists so highly regarded on several new design projects. (did I mention they own a music store..?) Frankly, I’m also looking forward to the challenge of working in a genre rife with so many nasty clichés.
For some reason I have this random factoid floating about in my head that states the percentage of people who begin blogs who actually stick with it is like 2. Percent. No kidding.
I have this artist friend who sort of got me started doing it. In fact lately I've been checking hers out to see if she's as big a slacker as I am—she is. She hasn't put anything up since August 3rd when she posted the brilliant (there's that word again) "OK GO" video—which was amazing. However neither she nor I have written anything since. And for those of you who "blog" (of course now it is a verb, I think William Safire said so), you know that posting a video is what you do when you can't think of anything intersting to write about...
…like the new KITTENS in our house!!! We got them from the Oregon Humane Society last month, after our dearly beloved "Gizmo's" 9th life finally came due. We inherited Gizmo from my dad, so I'm not positive of his exact age, but I am confident he was old enough to buy beer.
So long old friend...
But now — time for new kittens!!!
I joke of course, but there was something about the whole experience that felt oddly like swapping out an old water heater. Indeed Daisy, our 6 year-old, was crazy excited about getting a new cat even while Gizmo lay wheezing on the kitchen floor unable to make it to his Meow Mix. From eulogy to cattery was less than a week. Isn't the innocence of small children adorable?
Our new little friends came from the Humane Society "pre- named." — ladies and gentlemen, this is (or was) "Nutmeg" and "Tippy". When we picked them up they said we could rename them if we wanted (doesn't that confuse them?), so Daisy said she thought that instead their names should be "Nutty" and "Tiptoe".
Portland's favorite itinerant son, takes a break from Nashville to return home for another “secret” house concert. The last 2 have sold out, so don't sleep on this!
Admission is $10, the music starts at 7:30 PM, doors open at 7PM.
Never been to a house concert? Do not worry! Check out this helpful online primer before you head out.
It's not rocket surgery; the main idea is to simply enjoy live music in an intimate setting where you can relax and savor the performance.
It should be interesting when I get to heaven and the guy at the gate shows me the final tally of “Just Do It” graphic t-shirts I inflicted upon society during my 10+ years at Nike. I’d like to now take this opportunity to tell you how very sorry I am about all of that. (Hello… God?..)
My perdition aside, maybe you’ve seen this tricky ninja t-shirt folding move before, but someone actually took the trouble to put together a website devoted to this very important topic, aptly dubbed “fold-your-shirt.com.”
Now with this step-by-step demonstration and a little practice under your belt, your closet can look like an over-priced Harajuku boutique. And just imagine the look on the face of the hiring manager at The Gap when you bust out this move at your interview—they’ll probably start you out at PIC!
Start by watching the quicktime movie of the slippery maneuver. You’ll shake your head and get that "what the… ?!?” look on your face, then you’ll want to try it for yourself. The next thing you know, it'll look like the entire “Queer Eye” cast met in your closet for lunch. Happy folding.
When I’m on a deadline I have this bad habit of not eating all day until I finally get a head- ache. Yesterday was one of those days. J came over early and we were slamming to get a bunch of stuff out the door. Finally at around 4 o’clock—before the headache showed up, but not before we became horse-eating hungry—I had to go to the bank and run some other errands. On the way back up Hawthorne, we spied Cafe Castagna moaning her plaintive siren’s song. At that point the minivan goes all “Herbie” (the “Love Bug,” not “Fully Loaded”) on us, swerves across two lanes of traffic and pulls up to the front door! Not wanting to get in an argument with a strong-willed minivan, we grab a couple of stools at the zinc bar where the lovely and charming (and newlywed) Suzanne is tending bar (that's her in the fuchsia blouse). To purloin my buddy Bruce’s apt analogy, a good bartender is like a trusted closer in a tight game; some things are best left to the professionals. Suzanne at Cafe Castagna is Cy Young material.
At any rate, J talks me into a mojito, (I had my heart set on a caipirinha but they were out of cachaça). Don’t get me wrong, I've had a mojito or two in my day, (you can hardly throw a metrosexual down the street in the Pearl without hitting someone sitting at a café table sucking on a mojito while they blab on their Razr) but Suzanne DID something to this one that took it to a whole new level. You couldn't scrape the smiles off our faces with a cell phone—and that's before our burgers even hit the table. Now that I think about it, maybe that's why they were so quick with bread…
There are so many things that go into making a memorable eating experience; the food could be stellar, but if your server has a stick up their burro, chances are pretty good that's all you’ll remember. The thing that keeps you going back to Castagna is the fact that not only are owners Kevin and Monique two of the Holy Scribes of the Stumptown restaurant scene, they also manage in the process to be two of the most gracious and humble humans beings. The staff is a perfect reflection of this attitude toward eating; everyone there is enjoying themselves.
As many people I know are, I've been obsessed with YouTube.com lately—it's such a peel of American interests—admittedly, 13-25 year-old hormone-marinated American interests. Steaming piles of football-in-the-crotch stuff; the crass, the profane, the jaw-droppingly banal. Every once in a while however, something truly profound sneaks in there, and you recall the lofty populist ideal held out by the internet.
This clip is long (15+ minutes), but I dare you to not cry as you watch the story unfold. NOVAC (New Orleans Video Access Center), a group of documentary filmmakers in New Orleans have put together a series of short films called "The Drive," which graphically portrays the state the city is in almost a year after Hurricane Katrina ripped it to shreds. I felt ashamed that I had almost forgotten about the whole thing. It's pretty fucking sobering…
From NOVAC's press release: “Many people do not realize that, nearly 10 months later, things are not back to normal in New Orleans. As America's attention fades from Hurricane Katrina's impact, a disabled New Orleans continues to struggle for survival.
The only way to really get a sense of the magnitude of the post-Katrina destruction is to physically walk or drive through the affected areas. With this in mind, NOVAC presents The Drive. The Drive provides a raw visual and narrated tour through four of the most devastated neighborhoods in New Orleans and is supported with extensive footage, maps, interviews, digital imagery, and an original musical score by Emmy nominated composer, Gil Talmi. ”
Not to get all Sally Struthers on everyone, but take a moment and watch it all the way through.
While there's no danger of anyone ever confusing me with a vegetarian, it's a little tough for even me to get all the way through this one. From the brilliant (yeah yeah, everyone Bob likes is "brilliant"— leave me alone.) JJ Sedlemaier. It features a chestnut of a performance from the dearly missed Phil Hartman.
It's interesting to note how something as seemingly innocuous as the googly eyes on the chicken take this to an almost sociopathic level (although it might also have something to do with Adam Sandler's chicken voice—ga-ga-ga-GOING!!).
1. ) I stay up all night trolling the Information Superhighway for “shiny things.” I can justify this because I am a “designer” and I am doing “inspiration research.” (I'm actually on pretty solid ground here; Nike used to fly us all over the globe to do nothing but stay in fancy hotels, have dinner with interesting and beautiful people and “shop the market.” They paid for all of this whilst still paying me my weekly wage. No lie. Ah, but I digress...)
2. ) I play it for for Owen & Daisy the following morning. Over and over, to their gleeful cries: “again Daddy, again!!!” This includes, but is not always limited to burning a CD for us to play ad nauseum in our car (okay, our Minivan).
3. ) Because said “shiny thing” is usually in a foreign language such as Japanese or French, after a period of time, I become a little bit curious about what it is exactly I and my children have been singing nonstop for the 24-36 hours previous, so it's off to googletopia for the answer.
Fortunately this time, it was only rocks (stones actually...) *whew!*
To quote one winemaker’s website:“The name of the domain comes from cailloux roulés or galet roulés, the French name for the big stones of Chateauneuf du Pape.”
Okay, so we know now that "les cailloux" could be a reference to everyone's favorite Rhône varietal, but still, they said "big stones," which makes me giggle…
I have to admit I laughed when I first saw this. But then the little guy on my left shoulder pipes up, and I feel a little guilty. The thing is, this is funny to my 12 yeard old boy brain, but not very respekful to the ladies. As I'm snorting coffee out my nostrils, the guy on my right shoulder's saying "If all you want is sex, I can think of less 'involved' ways to go about procuring it."
“Yes," says you with that look on your face, "but you still posted it."
"What a wretched man I am! Who will save me from this body of death?.."
One more thing... Nashville singer/songwriter Mare Wakefield will be performing at our house again Friday, July 21st at 7:30 PM as part of our half jokingly called “Tabor Neighbor Concert Series.” Mare and her husband Nomad played here last year (they're from Nashville), and sort of caught us by surprise. I have to say she's a top drawer act. I can't believe she wants to play at our house again; she should be at the Aladdin at least.
At 10 clams to see her perform in a house, it's one hell of a bargain. Drop me a line and let me know if you want in.
I should also mention we have fellow Nashvillian (sp?) Craig Carothers here Friday August 4th. Stay tuned for details and yet another intriguing poster design ÷ ]
Okay okay. EVERYbody's got one. Now myself as well. Welcome to the 21st century young Robert. To this day, despite my being 43 years old, my mom Peggy calls me Bobby. My dad Howard has never stopped calling me Robert. That pretty well defines their relationship as far back as I can remember. But that's another day — another “post” to my “blog”.
“BLOG.” What a funny word. You ever do that?.. Look at a word long enough and it starts to take on a life of it’s own? Blog. Short for “web-log.” Like the “Flu” — short for “influenza.” Or like the “Fonz” —short for “Fonzarelli.” It seems sorta Valley. Like it should have an apostrophe in there: B’log.… ba-logg. Blog. Huh…
I've been goofing around the past few weeks with all of these web apps. I'm always surprised when I go back a few weeks later and that goofy movie is still there, right where I put it. (let that be a warning to all of you.)
So then without further ado, (I think it's funny when people spell it “adieu,” which, of course, means “good-bye” — think about it…) here goes nothin’.
PLEASE READ THIS WARNING BEFORE CONTINUING!! >>>Please be advised that upon viewing this video, the accompanying song will be PERMANENTLY burned into your cerebellum for the REST OF YOUR LIFE!!!
…a brilliant piece of work by Michel Gondry probably my favorite spot director. Check out The White Stripes "Fell in Love with a Girl" video. Right?..) BTW, he's also the drummer in the band, you talentless hack. Gotta say, it could use a skosh more cowbell tho.
Anyway, I tried it again with Chrissy’s noggin and, voilà — instant laff-riot!
