As alluded to previously, I decided to enter a contest.

One where I actually had to make something, and a not-unsubtantial something (because for better or for worse, I am no good at half-assing things).

Now, I’m no Orson Welles—hell, in my best ad ho daze, I was no Hal Riney or Mark Fenske, if you want to get technical—but after 20 years making a living in the business, I know how to write a reasonably on-target and entertaining commercial, and how to act in and edit one as well. This video I made? It may not be worthy of being voted up, but it’s hard to see what about it makes it worthy of being voted down.

Only it’s not. Because I know what the voting down is about; it’s about winning by making someone else a loser. That’s the nature of hating. And, as my pal, Pamela Slim said in a very nice email to me about the subject, “Haters really suck, there’s no way around it.”

The reason I know this is because (gulp) I used to be a hater. Or, if not a hater, one of those people who believed there was a finite amount of x to go around, where x = love, happiness, good fortune or anything else.

Honestly? I have no idea who or what to blame for this burned-in rationale. The drill in our house was that you had to earn everything—every compliment, every bit of praise—and yeah, you kind of started from zero each time. I’m sure there was a lot of sound, bootstrap/depend-on-no-one/Depression-era rationale behind this, but damn, it sucked to be me for a long time. Because when you really want to be happy winning second or third place? You really don’t want to be reminded that it could have been first, if someone else hadn’t won it. If you had just worked a little harder, like we know you can.

What’s sad is that I will always have to override that green monster trigger with every instance of someone else’s success. Or maybe it’s not sad; maybe it’s good to have a reminder that a lot of people are still grappling with it, and that the world is still fueled too much by fear and anger (and I’d argue that a lot of anger is just fear in a different Members Only jacket.)

Whatevs, as the kids after me but still long ago used to say. I hope you will go watch the video and vote me up (or at the very least, not vote me down).

Even more, I hope you enjoy my little video, and the effort and goodness of people it represents. All those people in the video who helped me. A whole lot more who either sent stuff I couldn’t fit in (there was a :60 limit, which I went over a little anyway with that fade to black) or had freak A/V problems or just other stuff in their lives that needed tending to.

The good people will win, even if my video doesn’t.

But vote it up anyway, okay?

xxx
c

Vote here. Thanks!

and now…

VIDEO CREDITS!! (or, “It Takes a Village” Dept.)

In my haste to get out the video, I screwed up URLs, misspelled names and generally screwed up all manner of pertinent info. And the first two people in the vid—Jack & Chris—don’t have titles over their names b/c I am a goddamned artist, goddammit, and I felt like having titles too early would give away the joke. Forgive me; I fully recognize what a colossal pain in the ass I can be about stuff like that.

In order of appearance:

Jack Lyons (@sidereal_)
Chris Ereneta (@cjereneta)
Angie Tapia & Company
David Eckoff (@davideckoff)
Scot Duke (@MrBusinessGolf)
Jon Deal (@zuhl)
Pamela Slim (@pamslim) (and vote for her SXSW panel here)
Mignon Fogarty (@GrammarGirl)
Rachel (@EffingBoring)
Peter Shankman (@skydiver)
Havi Brooks (@havi)
Karen Putz (@deafmom)
Laura Moncur (@LauraMoncur)
Mary McCauley-Stiff’s Coffee Mug

And of course, HUGE shout to The BF for purchasing and learning to play ukulele in 12 hours, as well as for sound massaging (mm…massaging…) and remaining on an even keel while I spun like a (bitchy) top.

There are other people who VERY KINDLY sent video, stills and offers of help, but for time and space reasons, could not be in it or, sadly, credited. (Drumroll, please!)

@SeoulBrother (OMG, you guys—I SO WISH I could’ve fit that one in)
Joe Hage (Ditto…so much good stuff that didn’t—I know, I should shut up, already)
John Dickerson (@JohnDickerson)
Dawud Miracle (@DawudMiracle)
Mary Sheely
Elisa Camahort (@ElisaC)
Rebecca Morgan
Evelyn Rodriguez (@eve11)
Susan Bratton (@SusanBratton)
Stephen Hopson
Scott Simpson (@scottsimpson)
Jay Hathaway (@strutting)
Chris Brogan (@chrisbrogan)
Postmodern Sass
Dorn Martell
Dani Nordin (@danigrrl)
@tj
Dave Hardwick

…and anyone else who, in my haste, I may have forgotten. But this is the Internet—TELL ME, and I’ll add you.

While I have been noticably AWOL here of late, I’ve been off-the-charts generative in other parts of my life.

Even reductive, as necessary.

Writing. Designing. Cleaning. Writing.

Creating presentations for me to speechify. (Yes, multiple: when it rains, it pours, baby.) Writing off-color songs and performing them before a live audience (use caution with that last link).

And—most exciting of all—clearing the decks for what looks to be the adventure of my middle-aged life, later this fall.

On top of all that, I got a crazy-ass bee in my bonnet to submit an entry to this little contest Southwest Airlines is running. Not because I have a great love of air travel (really, they’re gonna have to turn me around on that one), but because some real-life connecting over the weekend in the form of an impulse trip to Albuquerque reminded me of how awesomely stupendous it is to see people in person. And something about the crazy vortex of creative energy that’s currently experiencing me (no pun intended, and yes, that grammatical construction was correct) inspired an idea.

Did I say “inspired”? More like “leapt out of my head, grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me…HARD!” Because that’s how it is with creativity and ideas and The Juice: once you open yourself up to it, and kinda-sorta let it be known that you will be a responsible conduit craaaaazy things happen.

There are some things you have to do to make this great state of creativity happen. Merlin has been posting a lot of good stuff about it lately. In fact, he’s been so on fire, I’m guessing he’s practicing a lot of what he’s preaching.

And more’s the better for all: us, because we get his best, and a goodly dose of inspiration, to boot; him, because I can almost guarantee you he feels better these days when his head hits the pillow.

You can’t always be in productive mode, of course. Fields lie fallow once yearly for resting/recuperative purposes, and probably, so should we. (Well, not for a season, necessarily, but you know.) I’m guessing that even high-percentile-prolific people like Seth, Chris, Walt, my friend, Tim, and anyone else who makes a metric crapload of cool stuff on on a regular basis takes a break sometimes. (Brogan, you officially need to take one more often!)

But at some point, you put your ass in the seat, hunker down and do the deed. And you say “yes” to all the good stuff that comes along that really lights your fire, regardless of how busy you are. Because, trust me, you will always find time for the good stuff. And the stuff that grabs YOU? And won’t let you go? That’s the superfine, añejo stuff. That stuff, you clear your calendar for.

I am hunkered; I have swept away all non-essential items. But I am going to come back from this crazy jolt of creativity with new vigor and a plan, so look out!

In the meantime, if you feel like helping me out on my crazy little project for Southwest, and you live in or near one of the cities listed here, email me. The address is all over this site, but you can also just send to communicatrix at the gmail. Easy-peasy.

Thanks for playing. Now…go make stuff!

xxx
c

Image by litherland via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

It’s 7:55 as I write this.

I got some work done today; not enough. (Never—or rarely—enough.)

Anxiety kept stalking me like the then-state-of-the-art creeping VFX death that passed over the Jews in The Ten Commandments. I guess I have the lamb’s blood on my door; things got chilly and a little dark, but I’m still here.

At one point during the day, I told The BF I absolutely was staying here tonight. Absolutely. I have my 8am coaching call tomorrow morning, a shrink appointment just after, and that Never Ending Tower of Work to attack blindfolded and barefoot with my blunt & rusty pickaxe.

And then, slightly later in the day, something snapped. I called him back: on the landline, and then the cell. Had he made other plans yet? (He had not, if you don’t count taking the trash cans to the curb.) Would he like for me to come over still? (He would; we could watch TV-on-DVD in bed, he said.)

Or we could talk. Or we could just hang out.

I would be over at 8, I said.

It’s 8:02 now, and it will be more like 8:20 by the time I pack it up. But pack, I will, so I’ll keep it short. (Like you don’t have enough other stuff of mine to read?)

Do me a favor, okay? Whatever you’re doing right now, just stop. For a second. And ask yourself if it’s the thing you want-with-a-capital-”W” to be doing, or just something you said you’d do. Promised you’d do. Are doing to avoid something else more meaningful you could be doing.

I know it’s silly of me to even suggest that you, spending this time at your computer or staring at your iPhone or your crackberry, might not be making the best, most you-ful use of your time. And hell, maybe reading this post, and whatever you’re going to do just after, are the exact perfect things you should be doing.

I’m just checking. We’ve got to stop and look out for each other, you and I…

xxx
c

Image by Hot Tuna via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

TOPICS: 21 day salutes, Add new tag, change, Stop! Sucking!.

I headed over to the Hilton last night, figuring I’d find me some geeks at the bar and kick off my SXSW with bourbon and fellowship.

Three hours later, I left having met a bunch of guys here for a Whole Foods conference, an Iron Chef contestant, and a medical sales rep from Dallas with whom I had a lengthy discussion about theism (he’s pro, I’m not), socialism (I’m pro, he’s not) and marriage (on this, we were of the same opinion—mixed.)

One never knows, do one?

It is from that profound place of not-knowing that I…proudly? sheepishly? tentatively? announce the redesign of communicatrix-dot-com. To coincide with this greatest of all nerd festivals, the place where, as a guy in line with me to pick up badges put it, “I come to have my head expanded without LSD.” Because, like the doing of SXSW, the making of a website is an imperfect thing. (Especially when your coding skillz are minimal.)

Links are probably broken. Archives, for now, are non-existent (although individual entries are finally tagged.) For now, you’ll need to search for the things you want, and leave yourself open to serendipitous stumbling. Kind of like me, here, bumbling around at the mother of all conferences.

And now, time to pack up my stuff and get out and meet the people! For my 20, follow me on Twitter.

Just don’t forget to look up and say “hi!” And, maybe, “Hey! That looks just like your card!”

xxx
c

Non-existent accompanying image due to technology choosing this precise moment to go haywire…of course.

I’m not a developer. (Oh, boy, am I not—more on that later.)

I’m not a gamer, animator, early adopter, Mac fanboy, social network guru, internet celebrity or famous author/change agent/superstah with a new book to shill.

But here’s the dirty little secret of the South by Southwest Interactive Festival: you don’t have to be a Real Geek to love it.

I didn’t know what to expect at my first SXSW, two years ago. And, outside of creating some schmancy new blog cards (upon which I neglected to place my phone number—on purpose!), I didn’t do much in the way of preparation. I went with an open mind, the better for the cosmos to stick a wedge in there and crack it the fuck open.

It turned out to be a very good plan, the not-planning. In fact, it worked out so well, I’m doing it again, with a few minor adjustments:

1. This time, I’m going solo.

No BF, no SXSW Gold Pass. It’s interactive only, and one big, fat, glorious, piggy king-sized bed.

Don’t get me wrong—I love traveling with The BF, and by “traveling,” I mean exploring the turf, sharing experiences and having sex in motel rooms.

But I will be forced to get out there more and mingle. Having the Gold Pass (i.e., access to all the offerings of the SXSW Film Fest) and having a movie-freak companion meant I missed out on a lot of the schmoozing and boozing I hear tell happens outside the panels themselves.

Plus, communicatrix was pretty new to the internets a couple of years ago, and social media hadn’t really taken off yet. I knew one or two people going in, and met one or two more. This time, I’m excited to meet up with a whole slew (for me) of people, including Chris, Michael, Becky, Adam, Merlin, Alissa, Eric, Sean, Scott (who took this most excellent shot of the terrifying Podcast Pickle) and (your name here*).

2. I’m also planning…a little.

My natural tendency is to schedule myself down to the pee break, so I like to use vacation—which I characterize as me not doing my normal routine at home, not me sitting on a beach with a fruity drink—to mix things up.

I’ve made some oh-so tentative plans with a few people, and put their mobile numbers in my phone. I am also planning to be a total weinerdoodle and hole up in my hotel room alone with the cable TV on Thursday night. Because I know how tiring SXSW can be, and I want to experience as much as I can.

But other than that, the planning, as such, includes only one other thing:

3. An exciting and long-delayed image overhaul.

Watch this space, is all I’m saying…

xxx
c

*I’m serious, people—if you read this, and you’re going, for chrissakes, contact me! Who knows when we’ll get this chance again?

Image of the Famed Podcast Pickle by Scott Beale / Laughing Squid via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

TOPICS: communicatrix, SXSW, SXSW2008.