Don't Buy Kids Toys

Like my life in general, I've learned a little too late that April is "Financial Literacy Month" to make much use of it. However, in its honor, I'd like to offer a financial tip based on something I've realized of late. It's a very simple rule that will improve the quality of others' lives.

Don't buy kids toys for their birthday or religious holiday where gifts are exchanged.

Buy them U.S. Savings Bonds instead.

Here's the thing: when you're a little kid, you're basically stupid. You don't know what you want, or need, for that matter. The adults in your life will try to guide you on what you should want and supply you with what you need, but they too can be shortsighted.

If you buy a kid a toy, they'll probably play with it for a week until they're entirely bored with it. If it's a great toy, maybe a month. If it's a stupid toy (even though kids are stupid, they know the difference between a good and bad toy) it won't last a day. Before you know it, you're taking boatloads of toys (toy boats?) to Goodwill or Salvation Army, while your kid moves on ravenously to the next toy.

Then they get to their 20-somethings in an economic downturn. Not only do they not use any of their toys from childhood (if they do, well, you've got different issues than financial advice to work on), they also don't have any money. They might even get nostalgic and go to Goodwill and buy back their SAME childhood toys with money they don't have (i.e. your money). So what's the solution to all this?

Buy them Savings Bonds. From their first birthday until whenever you decide to cut them off. No, they don't rattle, flash, blink, stack, or should be used for teething purposes. Yes, the kid might accuse you later in life of a desolate childhood, having grown up in a house without disposable, germ-infested, toxic toys. But they sure will thank you when those puppies mature and they cash them in and make bank. It might even be enough to end your estranged relationship.

No comments, please, this one's a freebie for ya'll. Here's to financial literacy!

What I Want Tells Me What I Should Do

Following close behind, on the heels of my last post (redundant much?), I wanted to come up with a practical list of the things I want. This seems so vainglorious, I know ("vanity, vanity, all is vanity"). I'm scandalizing myself by doing this.

But I'm thinking that if I have a clear picture of what I want, it can help me decide what to do, and motivate me to actually do it. I hope this kind of thinking/exercise might be helpful to others as well. This list is in no particular order of importance. Here goes:

What I Want

1. A dog. I love dogs so much. Whenever I see people walking their dogs, I think, that could be me. They make fantastic companions, and since I spend so much time by myself, a dog would really improve the quality of my life. Also, being responsible for the life of another living creature would be good for me, I think. I would feel so grown-uppy. Requirements: money to feed (don't have), time to walk (definitely have), living space (not for a dog, sadly)
2. My Own Apartment. This seems like a no-brainer. Of course I need my own space. But my income hasn't been consistent enough to make that happen. Requirements: steady income, with enough left over for food (for me and my dog). 
3. To Get Engaged. Stop it, you're making me blush. Also no-brainer. Requirements: Haven't chased the girl away with my dumb jokes yet (check!), but also need stable income to make it happen, preferably in a respectable field. No one wants to be engaged to a circus performer (sorry to the many circus performers who read my blog). 
4. A 13 in. Macbook Pro. I'm a creative guy. And Apple's marketing campaigns have unanimously informed me that all creative people need Macs. So fortunately that decision was made for me (whew). Seriously though, they do everything I want a computer to do. Enough said. Requirements: $$. 
5. An iPad. It doesn't even have to be the 2nd Gen, although it would seem a little silly not to be ahead of the curve and get one right before Apple releases the iPad 3. Requirements: $
6. Good Health Care. It shows what a backward country I live in that I even have to want this (because I don't have it). Requirements: full-time job, part-time Starbucks, $$ to buy my own. 
7. Get My Financial Life in Shape. Start an emergency savings fund. Start a retirement savings account. Pay off outstanding debt. Start investing in stuff. Requirements: $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

Honestly, that's pretty much it. Of course there's a million little incidentals I also want, like chips and beer and HBO and to be in shape. But it's crazy to think that I can just sit and make a list like that. 

So now, how does what I want tell me what I should/need to do? 

Well, basically all those things above require a steady income with full-time work. And I see two ways to accomplish that: getting an entry-level job somewhere, or starting my own company. 

Hm...which one will I choose? Food for thought (delicious). Has anyone else done something like this? How has it helped you? 

The Undesiring Midwestern Ethos

A friend asked me a little bit ago, "What would your dream job be?" I kind of stumbled to think of a response. "Well," I tried, and mumbled something that came to mind at the moment.

I was talking to another friend, and I said, "Man, it would be so cool to be a graphic designer." In jest, they said, "Oh, so that's what you want to be today." What's with this inability to claim what I want?

I blame it on the ethos of the Midwest. Where I grew up, it's not so much about what you want to do, as it is what you should do. That sounds bad, and it's not quite right. Don't get me wrong - my parents have been extremely supportive and always encouraged me to dream big and do what makes me happy in life.

But the overall Midwestern ethos that's been ingrained in me, that I'll never really know the full influence of but that I get glimpses of like this, whispers life's not about you getting what you want, it's about helping others get what they want. Ideally, you quietly go about your work, you don't try to be flashy, and you shouldn't expect much of things. You're a servant. You exist to make others happy.

Is this an entirely bad mentality? Of course not. We should all try to make a positive difference in the life of others. We should be responsible citizens, giving back with our time, talents, and other resources. But sometimes the pendulum swings way too far, and gets stuck. This mentality is bad when it doesn't allow a person to claim a sense of self. It can result in one only wanting to make other people happy, wanting to fulfill others' wants. Or only wanting for myself what others want for me - which causes the "making others happy" drive to kick in, until there's nothing left. At the end of the day, what do I really want?

This all sounds ethereal, existential, and almost whiny. But I mean it actually to be quite practical. I'm afraid this post is getting a little long already, so I'm going to split it into two. Please read on to the next post to read about me working this out.

Thanks for stopping by. Midwesterns - do you agree with this? Does it at least resonate with you or am I an alien? Others - does this make sense at all? Is it not a Midwestern thing after all? Comments welcome!

6 Tips for Students from a Substitute Teacher

I've seen a lot in my year as a substitute teacher. Experienced a lot.

Actually that's not entirely true. But I'll play to my strong suit and write authoritatively from my wealth of inexperience on a subject.

This is for all the high schoolers out there, none of whom read my blog.

1. When you ask to go to the bathroom, I know that the chances of you actually needing to use it are as tiny as my paycheck. I know that you instead will wander the halls aimlessly, just for the thrill of getting out of class and having "put one over" on the sub. Well, you didn't. There's just not an easy way to retrieve you. Sending another student out to get you is like sending a search party out in Sasquatch-controlled territory. They're just as liable to join you and not come back as anything. 
2. When you ask to go to lunch early, or leave class early at the end of the day, and justify it by saying that your teacher ALWAYS lets you, I know that they don't. Your teachers are there to put even a smidgen of structure into your rapidly-spiraling-out-of-control-mainly-digital lives. And the secret is, you don't know that you need it, but you really do need structure. It will help you in the long run. Even though now it seems oppressive and unfair, you will find soon enough that the trick to life is repeatedly forcing yourself to do things that you don't want to do. So better to start now.
3. Having computers in class all day every day is actually a huge disadvantage to you, because they don't make you more productive like they're supposed to. Sorry to pull out the old man card, but when I went to high school, no one had computers. Hell, I had a pager in 9th grade, and I wasn't even a drug dealer. Would I have wanted a laptop or iPad in class? Yes. But I'm glad I didn't have one. I can distract myself with a paper clip, and the only notifications it sends me is that it's too bent out of shape to return to it's primary function. Oh, Facebook can be used collaboratively to work on class projects, blah blah blah. So can meeting in the library face to face. I'm normally a huge proponent of doing as many things digitally as one can, but I see how much time is wasted, how much of your parents money, frankly, is wasted by you "surfing" the web. You don't use that terminology anymore, but there's a reason that most surfers are beach "bums". Close your laptop and read a book, for the future of the world's sake, please.
4. Your teachers are as stressed and overworked as you feel. By that I mean, you think you have it rough. And in a certain way you do. Especially with the sense of doom that every test and quiz is that one thing that might lower your grade and prevent you from getting into the college of your dreams and then you'll end up as a substitute teacher like me. But your teachers have so much more going on in their lives than you'll ever know. While they're at school, you're pretty high up on their priority list, but outside of that, you're relative to kids and family and actually trying to have a life outside of their jobs. The only reason I tell you all this is that you should do whatever you can to make it easier on them. By that I mean, do the sort of work that helps your teacher help you. Go out of your way to proofread your essays. Be the sort of student you would want to have. And trust me, this isn't just about them, it's about you. The better and more teacher-friendly your work is, the better you'll do. I had the wrong idea about that in high school - with a few exceptions I thought that my teachers and I weren't on the same side. But you're all in this educational endeavor together, so show some respect, and you'll see that respect returned to you. 
5. Don't wait until college, or after college like I did, to start thinking about what you actually, practically want to do with your life. The more work you do ahead of time on this, the more things you try out and decide aren't for you, the easier it will be to land in something you really want and that fits you well. Also, learn about personal finance. I don't care how rich your parents are, the only way you're going to feel positive about your eventual independence from them is to learn how to manage your own money and live within your means. I should have learned this much earlier. 
6. Always address your teachers by name, and say please and thank you. Duh!

Thanks for stopping by! Comments and additions to this list welcome below!

Earth Week Rant

It took me a while to figure out why the little "Versus" logo in the bottom right of my screen while watching the NHL Playoffs is green. I thought there was something wrong with my TV, perhaps, and it's not displaying red correctly, which is the normal color of the logo.

Then I realized -- it's Earth Week. Or something. It's at least the week that contains Earth Day. Why that makes it Earth Week I'm not sure, but bear with me.

Here's where the rant starts. There's a huge difference between genuine environmentalism, a true desire and interest to do whatever one can to care for our natural environment, and lengthen our tenure on our fragile world,  and jumping on a marketing bandwagon.

Now that I think about it, I HATE the "Green" movement. It's the equivalent of saying that consumers can make the same bad choices for the future of our planet that we've been making since the industrial revolution, only now we have the moral sanction to continue doing so.

O wow, this (fill in the blank) is made from sustainable materials! I should probably consume even more of it, because hell, it's not like it's BAD for the earth. Sure, I won't exactly recycle it and continue the cycle of sustainability, but the fact that I'm choosing it (and PAYING MORE to do so...I'm so morally superior than the people who choose the non-sustainable option) should make all the difference, right?

The "Green" marketing movement is the worst thing ever to happen to environmentalism. It's domesticated it. What happened to tree huggers? You're telling me they work at Walmart now? I'm not buying it (literally and figuratively). Yes, I love my solar lights. I rock them whenever I can. But I'm smart enough to know that if I was a true environmentalist, I would change substantial aspects of my lifestyle.

I hate to be a naysayer (do I?) but all the little things we think we're doing to save the environment are just drops in the proverbial ocean that will one day cover Manhattan when the ice caps melt. I'm not trying to point fingers. I'm as guilty as anyone else. But at least I know when I'm being manipulated by companies that only care about the value of their stock, and certainly not the environment (unless wetland protected animals are inconveniently squatting on some natural resources they desperately need). American Capitalism is not a "long-term" thing, friends. It's about profitability and valuation now.

Should we as consumers make the best choices we can for the environment? Of course. But we have to know that we have to think beyond the "green" marketing campaigns if we're really going to make a difference.

Going to shut down my computer now to save energy, but I would love to hear your comments.

Macro, Micro, and Starcraft II's Life Lessons

Now, I wouldn't call myself a "gamer". Not totally. I don't play enough, and consistently, to really fall neatly into that category. But I love video games. Growing up, my brother and I combined owned every major system, with the glaring exception of Sega Genesis. Fortunately, my bro rectified that by buying a Dreamcast. I've probably spent as many hours playing video games over my lifetime as bathing, which for some gamers is optional. But this post isn't about the games themselves, it's about the life lessons you learn from them.

I'm thinking of one big one in particular. The importance of managing macro/micro in strategy games, especially the Warcraft/Starcraft series.

Jim's comment on the last post, and my reply, spurred in my mind the idea that you always need to be focused on the little details of life, working as hard and concentrated as you can on the task at hand. But we all know that's not enough. You also need to simultaneously hold the big picture in mind, to think strategically and long term, all the while utilizing the work on the little details to build toward the ultimate goal of the big picture.

Full disclosure time: I'm not a Starcraft II player. But my brother is. He's played in national tournaments. He's a pretty good player, but not only that, he has a great mind for the game. He's able to speak very intelligently about the minutest aspects of the game, which is where I derive my understanding of the macro/micro concept.

As stated in the link above, micro is the proper and effective management of the little details: what your army is actually doing. Micro is each task that you must individually execute to work towards victory. It's what's right in front of you. You have to do this well or you've got no hope of winning.

Macro, on the other hand, is managing the big picture. It's making sure you have just the right amount of units, supplies, etc. It's making sure your overall efforts, micro, etc. are working in concert to produce the best overall strategy to ensure victory.

You need both to win. You can't focus on one and ignore the other. Both need to be managed constantly, and effectively, in order to win. Unfortunately, I don't think I learned this lesson early enough in life. I've always been good on the task at hand, and move quickly from one to another. But it's the overall strategy I've been lacking in. My macro is weak. I don't think I've done a good enough job thinking strategically about each and every action in my life, and whether it's building toward something or nothing. Of course, I know that not everything one does should be part of a grand scheme to build an empire. You need to have fun too. But there's something about the most driven, motivated, and focused people who relentlessly manage their micro and macro to such an extent that it all fits together and works together almost seamlessly. The best Starcraft players do this. The best life players do this.

It's interesting that we use "game" language to describe success in life. We label some people "losers," and others describe themselves as "Winning! Duh!" Game Theory is definitely something I want to learn more about. But in the meantime, I'm trying to boost my macro skillz. Any thoughts on how you manage these (either in game or in life)?

Comments always welcome! Subscribe and follow me on Twitter if you like what you see.

The Consumer Mentality is Bankrupt

I've been reading some interesting things lately, and I'm not sure how much they have influenced my thought on the topic of the day, but I thought it was important to mention them right off the bat.

First off, billionaire Mark Cuban's weblog. I think the idea of my blog referring to his is funny, because it would never happen the other way around (never say never?). He writes about the stuff he knows best - entertainment, business, success, etc. I love his account of his rise to success.

Second, Altucher Confidential, written by entrepreneur James Altucher. While he has many striking ideas that I appreciate because they seem to go against collective wisdom, the most fascinating thing about his blog is Altucher himself. He comes across as eccentric, which again is probably why I like him. He reminds me of me. Rough edges abound. Anyways, check him out. I guess his post on "8 Alternatives to College" sparked some thinking on the topic for today.

What I've realized lately is that my approach to life has been largely inadequate due to the hyper-prevalence of one major ideology - that of consumerism. I've approached life, people, education, the search for a career, everything, from a consumer mentality.

By this I mean, I have expected the "product," whatever that may be, to be presented to me, to be brought within easy reach for my easy consumption. In terms of life in general, this means that I've falsely expected to have the sort of life I want to live laid out for me like in a 30 second commercial, and all I would have to do is "sign up," purchase the product. As if my life was already out there somewhere, and I just had to select the correct one from a store shelf.

In terms of relationships, this has meant that people are largely there for my enjoyment, emotional satisfaction, etc. It means that I haven't given enough of myself (I realize I'm being overly critical, and many would disagree, but I'm trying to trace this out in stark terms).

I've viewed my education largely as the process of dumping as much merchandise into my mental shopping cart as I think I can manage. I've never been good at contributing to class discussion (often because I feel like I have nothing to say, which I know is wrong). But as a consumer, I'm not there to give, I'm there to take. If knowledge is a commodity, I want to purchase as much as I can (but hopefully get it for free). This consumer mentality has probably kept me from truly engaging with ideas, with texts, and with my classmates.

My search for a meaningful career has probably suffered most from this way of thinking. The right job, the right career, should present itself to me, with all the warm glow and feel-good sentimentality of an insurance commercial with soldiers and American flags. It's out there, it's just on a shelf I can't quite reach, or in one of those pricey warehouse clubs I don't have a membership to. The problem is with the marketplace, not my attitude. The "economy" has failed to plunk into my lap my next thing in life. I'm a consumer. This is what I've been taught to do, trained to do. I've been waiting for life to happen to me, to give me something to work on and with. The market will weed out any weak or bad options, and I'll only be left with the best, which will be presented to me in all its shimmering glory.

Clearly, this is all so wrong, so crippling. But it's hard to see the subtle workings of forces that inundate us, hammer away at our sub-conscious, and turn us into drones. If we're ever going to be anything more than the "hive-mind" (another post I want to write soon), we need to make the important leap that I want to make, which is the move from a consumer mentality to a producer mentality. And since I'm still working that one out, check back for subsequent thoughts on the topic. Right now I thought it was important to identify the problem before constructing the "solution".

What are your thoughts on this? Does this resonate with you? Do you have suggestions for moving to a "producer" mentality? Comments are most welcome.

Reader Request: Spaceships

I don't know what it's like at your house, but around here, it's whatever Jim wants, Jim gets. So I'm most happy to pander to one of my few readers and oblige his request that I write a post about "spaceships," as he so eloquently put it. Well, here goes.

Where to start? There's a lot of angles to this one. A lot of ins, a lot of outs, so to speak. But instead of making grand claims about broad topics and stuff I don't know about like I usually do, I'm going to write about my personal experience with spaceships, which is fairly extensive. Here goes.

When I was a youngin', whenever I saw a commercial on Nickelodeon or an ad in one of my Boy Scout magazines for Space Camp, I was like, man, I really want to go to Space Camp.

I never went to Space Camp.

Then, I saw an ad for a model rocket kit, and I was like, I want that. So I got one for a birthday or Christmas present, and then I opened it and took out all the pieces and looked at the instructions and I was like, wow that looks hard to put together. So it sat in pieces in that dust-laden box for some time, until my dad and my uncle helped me put it together. When it was complete, shining in its glory, launch day arrived. We went to a soccer field by an elementary school and my co-builders made me stand much farther back than I wanted. After the obligatory countdown, I pressed the button and that sucker launched. It was inspiring and patriotic, not unlike the 4th of July.

Somewhere around that time I saw Apollo 13, and I was like, man, being trapped in a failing spaceship is stressful.

But there were good times, too. Like Space Mutiny, a thrilling MST3K rendition about, you guessed it, mutiny in space. Yet as the gang is quick to note, most of the spaceship looks like parts of a giant warehouse/basement. In that same vein, there's Prince of Space, who flies around in a tiny spaceship, and cannot be harmed by weapons of any sort.

So all in all, spaceships aren't so bad, really. They can be fun, they can help you destroy asteroids hurtling toward earth, they can go into warp speed, they can basically help you travel through space. They can even travel through time to snatch up some humpback whales that you can take back to the future to solve earth's impending doom.

Originally I was going to discuss the ethics of funding a space program when there are millions without health insurance, but who's to say, really?

So Jim, that one's for you. Any other reader requests?

Still Questioning My Education

Hey ya'll (I can say that now, I'm legally a Southerner). Though in some ways this is a continuation of the thought I was working out last October in this post, I read a great article this morning that put another spin on the issue of the value of higher education.

Sarah Lacy profiles Peter Thiel, Paypal co-founder, who offers some profound insights on what he perceives to be the "bubble" of higher education, transferred most recently from the housing market. Lacy argues that the almost sacred power of our belief in higher education stems from a sort of pact we make with the universe, one which is ultimately based on our need for safety: "Do this and you will be safe." 


I couldn't agree more with Lacy and Thiel. I think they identify a potent root of my current vocational disorientation. I worked hard. I went to one decent school and one great school. I am entitled (another concept she argues is the result of our incorrect thinking about higher education) to some sort of meaningful work. Of course, we know this isn't true. No one is entitled to anything. But this is a middle-class American ideal that I find hard to shake. 


I think it also has to do, philosophically, with a love of causality. I want the universe to operate by rational principles, cause and effect. I have worked hard, therefore opportunities should miraculously present themselves. I know cognitively that this isn't true, but it hasn't reached my gut yet. I still feed on the illusion that my "hard work" should matter to others, and not just myself. I need to kick the habit, but it's ingrained pretty deep. 


Yet reading articles like the above help me to deconstruct the half-truths that can result in one's own person "stagflation" scenario. Whatever that means. It's a cool word, right? 


Anyways, check out that article, and comment on your own thoughts/feelings of entitlement and causality, and how you combat them. Happy Monday!

It's All About You, Faithful Readers!

Hello, thank you for visiting. This isn't so much a new entry as it is a desperate (okay not so desperate) plea for your comments and questions. I want to know what you'd like me to write about! Is there anything I've already written on that you'd like to hear more of? Do you have other random questions you'd like me to try to address?

What would make this blog more user-friendly, to you (the user)? What would keep you coming back and make you subscribe?

Unbelievably, I actually want to write about what interests other people, and not just myself, so any feedback you have would be most appreciated.

In the meantime, keep it real, and thanks in advance for your comments/questions.

Not Your Grandma's Solar Lighting

Well, it's Thursday, and you know what that means. Time to confess a horrible, dark (light?) secret about my life. I'm kind of obsessed with all things solar-powered, but especially solar lighting.

My obsession began in my youth, whenever I decided to turn off my video game system or the TV with the Nickelodeon logo burned into the screen, I watched it so much, and actually went outside. I noticed a bright glowing ball in the sky, and it felt hot. Little did I know then, that glowing thing can be used to power solar-powered things.

My first experience with solar power was building an awesome 4 foot tall (or so it seemed at the time) K'nex ferris wheel that turned with a motor powered by a solar cell. I'm not joking about that, guys. It was sweet.

More recently, however, with the "green" movement in full swing, major companies are getting on-board the solar bandwagon (hope they don't have leather seats, ouch!), which is great because hopefully higher demand for solar cells will create more innovation and cheaper prices (see here for an article on solar's amazing growth).

Sure, those goofy solar landscape lights are fairly cheap and ubiquitous these days, but they have some serious drawbacks when it comes to practical indoor solar lighting, which is what I'm most interested in. Their main issues are: 1. they lack an on/off switch, so you have to toss them in a closet and shut the door when you want to go to sleep, and 2. they come with the cheapest rechargeable batteries possible, so they don't really last long enough/output enough power to really count as indoor lighting.

And then Ikea came along, stole my heart, and rekindled my solar obsession. They have a wide range of indoor solar lighting solutions, but I'm just going to review one I actually own and have experience with. Hopefully as I add more to my collection I'll review them too.

In case you're getting bored and are about to click away, hang on, here's the good stuff. Ikea's Sunnan Table Lamp (I think Sunnan can be roughly translated as "solar power is great everyone should buy one of these seriously) is a great "gateway" product to get into the world of indoor solar lighting. It has an easily detachable solar cell/battery combo pack, which you can place either outside or in a sunny window, and then easily snap back into place when you're ready to use it. It's reasonably priced at $19.99. And it really is super bright, with white LED's. Adding to that, it's got a flexible neck, so you can position it however you want to light whatever you want. I use it as a reading light at night, but it also works well as just a general lamp. A great bonus is that it uses Ikea's own brand of rechargeable batteries, which they recommend requires replacement every two years or so. Not bad, folks! Not your grandma's solar lighting indeed - by that I mean actual sunlight, opening a curtain, you get the drift.

Feel free to comment on whether you think it's reasonable to incorporate solar lighting into your indoor space. Or if you think my obsession is weird and dumb.

One Name, Five Syllables

That's not funny. Or is it? I think humor is one of the most fascinating aspects of human culture and human existence generally. Like all aspects of what we like, which is an impossible science (cf. aesthetics), humor is so interesting because of the many variations in what people think is funny. Somehow, there are different genres of humor. There's "stupid humor," which is a misnomer because it's often so intelligently done that such a title is entirely ill-fitting. There's "dark humor," which is really those things that we're all thinking in the midst of life's most terrible moments, for the purpose of making the situation seem a little less bad, but have been socialized not to communicate generally. There's "oddball" humor, which is random and crazy and appeals to the more creative faculties of the hearer or viewer, because one must actively construct the ways in which the absurdity is meant to be funny, and then said content actually becomes funny. Of course, there are many other different "types" of humor. You get the idea.

People even draw the line on humor, saying that something "isn't funny" because it addresses a particular taboo we hold sacred. Jokes can come "too soon" after a tragic event.

But what I'm really interested in is how people construct their sense of humor. Of course, this is getting into a hairy "nature vs. nurture" debate, and I guess aesthetics overall, but I'm wondering if within a single (more or less) culture, something can be objectively funny, or if humor is entirely subjective, just like everything else we like in life.

A particular experience brought this question into focus. I recently watched Zoolander with some friends, and let me tell you, this is my favorite movie of all time. Many times you may ask someone, "Someone, what's your favorite movie?" and they'll equivocate six ways from Sunday (especially if that Sunday is the Oscars). "Oh, I don't know, I have a lot of favorites, I guess..." they might say. Not me. Zoolander. Forget the fact that I secretly want to be a male model, there are just so many things in that movie I find funny. I thought it was funny when I first saw it in high school, and I still think it's funny more than 10 years later. Maybe I have a "dumb" sense of humor, stricken as I am with extended "Arrested Development," producing a seemingly endless adolescence. And yes, things can become funnier over time (how does that work?) or after repeated viewings (I've probably seen Derek work his magic at least 20 times), but still. Some things are just funny, I propose.

Yet there was a member of the audience that night who just didn't think it was funny. Not having it. And even though I disagree, it made me more curious than defensive. How can this be?

I have more questions than answers on this one, so any funnymen/funnywomen out there who want to weigh in, please do. Give me your best Blue Steel, and if you think it's ready to let out of its cage, drop the Magnum on us. I hope it doesn't melt our faces off. Then again, I kinda hope it does.

Simplicity for Simpletons

This morning I'm pondering how writers avoid overwriting. I've been reading Einstein's Dreams by Alan Lightman, and while I'm struck with the weight of the ideas, I'm almost more enthralled by the simplicity with which he presents them. Simplicity is such a misleading term, in general but especially when referring to writing. I guess what I mean by simplicity is saying what needs to be said, communicating, in short, in the most precise yet meaningful way.

It seems that it's so much easier to err on the side of too much writing, garrulous word diarrhea. Overwriting is blatant, a flagrant foul against the sensibilities. I just don't understand how the best writers slim down their verbiage to create that stark impression of sweet simplicity. "Let the club do the work," I was always told when trying, and failing, to develop a solid golf swing. Well, just as I try to knock that little dimpled sphere screaming out of the park every time (ouch mixed sports metaphor), so too I find it so tempting to use more words than less to say what I need to say.

Take "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," by Thomas Sterns Eliot (T.S., to the uninitiated), for example. It's so "simple" that it seems like anyone could have written it. Of course, not just anyone did, which opens up the huge snarly gnarly debate about whether a work of art is good because it has merit somehow in and of itself or only because it was created by someone we have attributed cultural value to as being an artist who creates great art. Anyways, my point is - how did he do it, and others? How does one show restraint in the written word?

But all this is not to say that you can't be ornate and simple at the same time. Faulkner miraculously achieves this, and of course Henry James (I can't speak on Joyce - full disclosure - I've never read Ulysses). There's a balance somewhere in there that I can only point to as existing but can't really hope to describe. Somehow the layers upon layers of detail and description and probing inner worlds do not take away from the overall sense of simplicity they impart.

Perhaps I'm thinking of simplicity in terms of wholeness, a unity, a measured evenness that is consistent throughout and gives the impression that everything is in the right place, that everything belongs. Overwriting sticks out, stabs the mind, feels out of place.

Anyways, here's to those great artists who say what they say and do what they do and write what they write and do not overwrite for the sake of overwriting and keep things simple and always are true to their vision and never affront the reader by saying too much or too little but just say enough.