While on a work trip in London, I spent a few hours in Twickenham and shot this short film. Enjoy!
While on a work trip in London, I spent a few hours in Twickenham and shot this short film. Enjoy!
Author’s note: Almost 20 years ago, I graduated from college with a degree in screenwriting. I never sold a screenplay or worked in Hollywood, but the ideas for movies, and the desire to write them, continues to this day. The pitch below — for a slyly feminist buddy comedy — has been gathering dust for a long time. At this point in my life, there is no point sitting on these ideas any longer. So here you go. If you happen to know Aziz or Bill or anyone with a few million bucks, please pass this along.
VIJAY CHOPRA (Aziz Ansari), a shy computer programmer who co-founded a popular dating website, becomes suddenly rich when Google buys his company. To celebrate, he and his lady-killing business partner/former college roommate, TED WEATHERBEE (Bill Hader), have a night of drunken excess with Google executives in NYC, culminating in a visit to a “LIFE PRESERVATION AGENCY” where Vijay and Ted drunkenly agree to have their remains preserved in the event of their death. (“Hey, all the Google execs do it,” is the line used to pressure them into it.)
Immediately afterward Vijay is abruptly KILLED in a tragic, yet hilarious, accident. (There should be a moment when we think Vijay has died — because anyone who sees the trailer will know he’s going to die — but he hasn’t. Then, moments later, he really does.)
Vijay AWAKES, Austin Powers-style, 500 years in the future, in a society populated entirely by FEMALES. At first the society seems perfect: No war, lots of free massages; the whole word looks like an Anthropologie store.
No-nonsense DR. LISA LEDBETTER explains that 50 years after his death, a pandemic caused humans to stop conceiving male babies. The survivors continued populating the earth via sperm banks but could conceive only more females.
THEY ARE RUNNING OUT OF SPERM AND BELIEVE VIJAY MAY BE HUMANKIND’S LAST HOPE.
(Sophisticated computer programs have identified Vijay’s DNA as “very desirable.”)
The kindly doctors who tend to Vijay are clueless about men and the 21st century. They eventually convince him to provide a sperm sample, but he can’t “perform” in the sterile setting, with crazy 26TH-CENTURY HOLOGRAPHIC EROTICA.
Just as the erotica becomes marginally arousing, a band of MILITANT WOMEN, led by the evil GAIA DEVEREAUX, storms the building and KIDNAPS Vijay. The militants DON’T WANT VIJAY TO BREED. While they argue among themselves whether to kill Vijay, or castrate him and place him in a MAN-ZOO, Vijay draws the sympathies of the alluring militant OLGA HURTADO, who eventually helps him ESCAPE.
Unsure what to do, and intensely lonely, Vijay sneaks into the medical building where he was brought back to life and uses his computer prowess to find and REANIMATE the frozen body of his best bud TED WEATHERBEE (still Bill Hader in old-man makeup) — who died in the plague at age 82.
Ted, the 82-YEAR-OLD WINGMAN, helps Vijay win Olga’s heart, and Vijay and Olga make INTENSELY AWKWARD LOVE (Vijay bumbling and shy; Olga mortified by human penises).
After Vijay and Olga’s consummation, the militants attempt to hunt down the happy couple and Ted. They hide in a series of SAFE HOUSES – each one revealing a new STRATA of the all-female society.
Ted makes an impassioned speech about the meaning of LIFE and LOVE and then promptly DIES OF RICKETS.
Olga and Vijay keep running but are eventually CAPTURED. The militants want to BURN THE HERETICS AT THE STAKE. Dr. LISA LEDBETTER intervenes, and the militants tie her up as well. While tied to the burning stake, Dr. Ledbetter makes some observations and asks Lisa a few questions, e.g., “Are you queasy?” “When was your last menstruation?”
It turns out OLGA IS PREGNANT. When Dr. Ledbetter announces this fact, the less violent militants REVOLT AGAINST GAIA DEVEREAUX and free Olga, Vijay, and Dr. Ledbetter.
With a handheld device, Dr. Ledbetter runs an on-site SONOGRAM and determines that IT’S A BOY! The two factions of society momentarily come together. Olga and Vijay kiss and live happily every after.
Or do they?
Flash-forward 15 years later. Vijay and his NOW-TEENAGE SON have a visitor. It’s OLGA! Coming to see them in the MAN ZOO!
Alternate ending, to run during credits or as a DVD extra:
Trying to escape a band of militants, Vijay locks himself back into the cryo-freeze chamber, only to awaken an additional 500 YEARS LATER in an ALL-MALE SOCIETY. An ugly man promptly SHOVES A SPEAR THROUGH VIJAY’S HEART.
FADE OUT REDUX
For years I relied on legal pads to keep track of things. I made to-do lists, took meeting notes, doodled in the margins—all on legal pads. When I filled one up I’d stuff it in a drawer and start a new one. When I needed to retrieve old notes, I’d sort through the backlog of legal pads for what I needed. When the drawer of used legal pads was overstuffed, I’d throw out the oldest ones to make room for more.
This was inefficient, but I am okay with a little chaos, as you’ll see below. However, I’ve weaned myself off of legal pads—gone paperless, even—and I’m glad I did.
Last year I interviewed for a job at a startup. It was a nontraditional interview in which I sat in on a half day of meetings so that we could all get a sense of how I might fit into their culture. I walked in with nothing but my pen and legal pad; everyone else had laptops and tablets. “Ooh, you’re old school,” one of my potential-future-workmates commented. (It didn’t help that I was also the oldest person in the room.)
I did not get the job.
I held onto my legal pads for a few more months, until I started my new job at a large tech company last spring. At the new job, there was a months-long waiting list for cubicles. There were several open workspaces in which I could dock my laptop until I got a cube, but no permanent desk. Thus I became a digital nomad, lugging my laptop, power cable, mouse, headset—and legal pad—between work and home every day. My laptop bag started getting heavy with legal pads, and I decided then to go paperless.
The only software I use for paperless organization is Microsoft OneNote. Before you start laughing, or Googling this program you have never head of, let me say that the software doesn’t matter. I started experimenting with OneNote and liked its flexible interface for managing lots of buckets of information. I organized notes according to work life and personal life, and then I created subcategories within each of those big buckets. In the end, none of my organization mattered because I use only one category 90% of the time. A simpler program would have done the trick. One nice thing about OneNote, though, is that it auto-saves everything and does not add clutter to your file folders. There are no separate OneNote files. Everything is available when you open the program.
So what is the one category I use 90% of the time? Meeting notes.
Most office jobs, for better or worse, are propelled by your meeting schedule. Despite all the categories I created for my notes, I found that most notes were getting dumped into a catch-all I’d created to document my meetings. Who participated? What was it about? What was decided? It became redundant to create separate to-do lists because most of my to-dos stemmed from what I committed to during meetings.
Whether or not meetings are central to your work life, the point is to create the largest and fewest possible buckets of information. Any organizational system that involves meticulous curation is destined to fail. (For me, at least).
To organize my documents I use just one folder. It’s the default “Documents” folder in Windows 7. In other words, I don’t organize documents at all. I have tried organizing them into subfolders, but every subfolder requires an additional click and additional brainpower to try to remember where I put something. Having one folder sounds messy, but since every OS allows you to sort by most recent, alphabetically, or by file type, it’s easy to find what you’re looking for. My folder defaults to show files by recency, so 90% of the files I need are always at the top. I never spend more than 30 seconds looking for anything. It sounds crazy but it works. It will continue to work even after years of accrued files because, again, most of what I need is something I’ve accessed recently. If I still have this folder in 10 years, and it has thousands of files, I might create an archive folder. Might.
I cannot stand Inbox Zero. Email is another place to apply the “big bucket” system. I have a couple of folders for the few emails I want to save:
As for everything else? I let my inbox pile up, periodically deleting everything older than a couple months. Using this method I have never lost anything important and never wasted time organizing anything.
When I was freelance, I spent a lot more time trying to organize things on my mobile device. Like a lot of people, I tried Evernote and found it too unwieldy. Other people swear by Evernote. One app I did like was Springpad. It’s lighter-weight than Evernote and also has a Chrome plugin so you can sync your mobile device to your web browser—meaning you can add a note to the app directly from your desktop web browser. I mainly used Springpad to keep track of books and movies I wanted to check out, gift ideas, and other personal lists. I didn’t use it for work but I’m sure it could be handy there too. Just don’t let it trap you into too many folders.
The over-arching theme of the big-bucket system is to trust your brain. Not to insult the hyper-organized among you, but I think people who are super-anal about organization are often afraid of their own brains. It’s scary to let go and use the force. But one day science will (probably) conduct a study that demonstrates that there’s a 42% chance that over-reliance on to-do lists leads to early-onset Alzheimer’s. Just sayin’.
It offers something I’ve been looking for: The reasoned, intelligent, conservative opinion on firearms and gun-control legislation. It makes a strong case that teachers should be allowed to be armed:
I personally taught [concealed weapons instruction to] several hundred teachers. I quickly discovered that pretty much every single school in my state had at least one competent, capable, smart, willing individual.
That gun-free school zones don’t act as a deterrent:
The only people who obey No Guns signs are people who obey the law. People who obey the law aren’t going on rampages.
That the media plays a dangerous role:
If you can kill enough people at one time, you’ll be on the news, 24/7, round the clock coverage. You will become the most famous person in the world. Everyone will know your name. You become a celebrity. Experts will try to understand what you were thinking. Hell, the President of the United States, the most important man in the world, will drop whatever he is doing and hold a press conference to talk about your actions, and he’ll even shed a single manly tear.
You are a star.
That weapons bans don’t work:
The US banned assault rifles once before for a decade and the law did absolutely nothing. I mean, it was totally, literally pointless. The special commission to study it said that it accomplished absolutely nothing. (except tick a bunch of Americans off, and as a result we bought a TON more guns) And the reason was that since assault weapon is a nonsense term, they just came up with a list of arbitrary features which made a gun into an assault weapon.
That comparisons to other countries aren’t valid:
Australia had a mass shooting and instituted a massive gun ban and confiscation (a program which would not work here, which I’ll get to, but let’s run with it anyway.). As was pointed out to me on Facebook, they haven’t had any mass shootings since. However, they fail to realize that they didn’t really have any mass shootings before either.
That “gun culture” is not a niche, or outside the mainstream:
The gun culture is who protects our country. Sure, there are plenty of soldiers and cops who are issued a gun and who use it as part of their job who could care less. However, the people who build the guns, really understand the guns, actually enjoy using the guns, and usually end up being picked to teach everybody else how to use the guns are the gun culture.
It really is a thorough, considered post and you should read the whole thing. There has probably already been a point-by-point dissection of his arguments somewhere, but I found it extremely educational and it made me feel less ignorant about guns and gun culture.
What’s alarming to me is that Larry Correia is probably right about most things. And I say that as a liberal. It confronts the reality of 300 million guns circulating the country. Any attempt to regulate or remove them will only result in more demand. It’s a nihilistic view but one based in fact.
What’s missing is any analysis of, or concern for, how we got here—how we got to 300 million guns. How did we, as a culture, fail—and I do consider it a failure—on this point? How did the 2nd Amendment morph into “all citizens who are not criminally insane are entitled to legally carry weapons of mass destruction at all times”? Weren’t the framers of the constitution wrong about other things that have since been overturned? Maybe it’s time to scrap the constitution, or, as Thomas Jefferson wanted, write a new one every generation.
Corriea’s viewpoint also represents an inversion of the traditional Liberal vs. Conservative dichotomy. On guns, it’s the liberals, not conservatives “standing athwart history yelling Stop.” On guns, liberals wish we could go back in time to when the most deadly weapon was a musket, or a sword, or a rock. But that’s not reality. The reality is: 300 million guns in this country alone. Correia doesn’t seem to have any problem with this. I do, and so does at least half the country.
I’ve had a gun pointed at me twice. The first was while walking with friends at night outside the bustling nightclubs on Miami Beach in the early 90s. By the time I noticed that the man standing on the sidewalk in front of me was brandishing a HUGE Dirty Harry-style revolver, I’d practically bumped into him. I hurried past and he shouted “You’d better stop right there!” Something inside me said to keep walking—not to run, but to walk briskly away. I glanced back and the guy was taking aim at us. We walked another block, found a payphone, and called the cops. (The 911 operator was unhelpful; she wanted me to give my name and file charges; I just wanted someone to come and stop the gun-wielding maniac.)
The second time, the gun was not so much pointed at me as revealed to me—almost lazily. I was working the morning shift at a Howard Johnson’s motel in Coral Gables. At around 10 a.m. a guy walked into the lobby, opened his fanny pack (!), showed me a small gun, and asked for money. I gave him the money from the till, plus five dollars from my wallet, and he left.
I don’t think carrying a firearm would have helped me in either case. Perhaps if I’d been armed I would also have been in a heightened state of alertness and identified the risk before it was too late to react. But it’s impossible to know that. In the first instance, I would not want to fire a weapon on a crowded street. In the second, the money from the motel’s till was not worth a firefight.
There was another incident at the motel, in which a wannabe date-rapist tried literally to drag a struggling young woman from his car to a room. I called 911 and tried to defuse the situation until the cops arrived—which, fortunately for everyone, was quickly. Had they not, I must admit having a weapon might have helped the situation. It could also have made it much, much worse. Again, impossible to know.
Correia makes a pretty good case that attempts to confiscate or regulate guns—to reduce supply—will not be very effective; the genie is out of the bottle. 300 million guns are already in the wild. But there are commonsense regulations most people on both sides could agree to. Closing the so-called gun-show loophole is one, despite what the commenters on Correia’s post would have you believe.
So if we can’t reduce supply, what about demand? What can we do to make guns seem quaint, antiquated, uncool—relegated to the fringes of society (as we liberals would like to believe they already are)? This is a problem that will take generations to solve. There may be hope as more people move from rural to urban areas. In the long term, guns in the US could be treated like another leading killer—cigarettes—whose consumption is decreasing among young adults (PDF).
However this problem is approached, both sides need to concede that (a) there are 300 million firearms that are impossible to get rid of and (b) “more guns” is not the solution to reducing gun violence.
Parents are wondering how to talk to their kids about the mass-murder of six- and seven-year-olds at Sandy Hook Elementary, and about school shootings in general. My feeling, especially for younger children, is don’t—unless they ask first. I’ll get into my reasons why, but first I’ll get a few other things out of they way, so there’s no mystery about where I am on the political spectrum:
I also believe in data. It is this belief in data that makes me wary of discussing with my kids the possibility that a crazy man with a gun might one day enter their school and shoot people. There are many things that threaten our children’s safety. School shootings are pretty far down the list. All of the data below is from 2010 (the latest available) and comes from the CDC’s website.
For children between the ages of five and nine, the five leading causes of injury-related deaths were:
For children between the ages of 10 and 14, the five leading causes of injury-related deaths were:
There is no question that guns pose a large threat to children (and adults) in the US. The dangers of guns should absolutely be taught to children. But this is different from the danger posed by guns in schools. According to a report (PDF) issued by the Department of Justice, of the murders of school-age children in the 2009-2010 school year, one percent occurred on a school campus. Although there have been 31 school shootings since the Columbine massacre in 1999—a devastating statistic—schools remain one of the safest places your child could be. (The media does a bad job putting this into perspective, for obvious reasons.) Now, guns owned by family members and by kids’ friends’ parents? That is an actual threat that should be discussed with your kids.
(A brief digression on schools increasing security in the wake of mass shootings: On the first school day after the Newtown shooting, there was a police officer stationed at my daughter’s school. This was apparently a decision made by the local PD, not by school administrators. It got me thinking about the logic of increasing security to protect against school shootings. First, a single officer could not defend a determined murderer with a bullet-proof vest and a semiautomatic weapon. So we need more security. How about two officers? Or six? Why not a tank? Second, let’s say the officer deterred the murderer, and the murderer sought an easier target like a shopping mall or movie theater. Should we then add armed security to shopping malls and movie theaters? Tanks? Missile-defense systems? I think most of us would prefer to accept some risk and not live in a police state.)
Let’s look at the other leading causes of death among children.
All of these things are much more likely to happen than a school shooting.
And by the way, here’s another leading cause of death in children that you can prevent: the flu. (It’s #6 among children ages 1-4 and #9 among children ages 5-9.) Are you and your kids getting flu vaccines every year?
Back to the issue of talking to kids about school shootings. With the amount of media coverage given to these incidents, it is probably unavoidable that at some point we will need to have a conversation with one or both of our kids about Newtown or the next school shooting. Our eight-year-old will most likely hear about it from someone else. Our four-year-old will, I hope, be spared; he has enough anxiety about school as it is. But I don’t think we, or any parent, is under any obligation to discuss it.
It’s true that you cannot protect your kids from every threat. But there is no reason to scare the daylights out of them over something that is extremely unlikely to happen to them, and about which, if it did occur, they could do very little. Are we supposed to coach them to hide under their desks or in a closet if a bad man with a gun enters their school? Would that have any impact, besides instilling a sense of extreme paranoia? I don’t think so.
I’ll close out this depressing post with some interesting charts from the CDC. Click the images to expand them, or download the PDFs. More can be found on the CDC’s website here.
10 Leading Causes of Death by Age Group (PDF)
10 Leading Causes of Injury-Related Deaths by Age Group (PDF)
I wrote a thing for the Weekly Alibi, Albuquerque’s alternative newspaper, which is celebrating its 20th anniversary this week. Congrats to everyone involved in this milestone. Hard to believe they survived having me on staff.
For the last few weeks I’ve been using a treadmill desk once or twice a day, for 30-90 minutes at a time. This particular model has a maximum speed of 2 mph and there is no incline, so it’s not rigorous exercise. But when I consider the alternative—sitting on my butt all day—the treadmill desk is the closest thing I have to a daily workout regimen. (I am so not a gym person.) I’ve lost four pounds without really trying to.
All of this totally makes me an expert on treadmill desks, so here are my observations.
2 mph is kind of fast if you’re working on a presentation. I can type and operate a mouse comfortably at speeds up to 1.2 mph. Faster than that and typos become rampant. (I typwd this at 21 mpd.)
Wear comfortable shoes. My work shoes are comfortable enough for wandering carpeted halls and stomping on crickets, but they are not designed for treadmills. Right now my solution is to have sore feet and try not to complain too much.
You’re chained to your desk…in a good way. If you have trouble sitting still for long periods (I will use absolutely any excuse to leave my chair), the treadmill desk really helps with concentration. Especially after you stop tweeting about being on a treadmill desk. Bonus: Sometimes, after an hour on the treadmill, I think, “I’d better get back to work.” Then I remember I actually have been working the whole time.
Not for mutants. I’m six-three. The desk is adjustable, but its maximum height is about two inches below where I would like it to be. The monitor is bolted to the desk at a fixed height, and putting a phone book under the keyboard and mouse is not a viable option. So if you’re over six feet, be sure to try before you buy.
You will probably look like an idiot. Apparently my daily treks to the treadmill (which is near a communal area at work) are amusing to people. About once a day someone walks by and says something like “What is that? What are you doing?” It seems pretty obvious that I’m powering my laptop like a hamster in a wheel, but whatever.
Beware the phone. Once, I’d been walking for 90 minutes and was about to stop when my phone rang. I took the call. The conversation lasted over an hour. I forgot to stop the treadmill.
That’s right, I WALKED SLOWLY FOR TWO-AND-A-HALF HOURS. I felt totally entitled to a Snickers bar after that.
I started looking for a job in earnest just after the New Year. Nearly four months later I’m pleased to announce that I’ll be joining Dell.
Many people helped me along the way, and I thought I’d pay it forward by sharing my job-hunting methods. I hope it helps someone, or at least provides a few minutes of amusement.
I also changed my Twitter and Facebook avatar, just like Sarah did.
In the “Hire Me” post, I tried to strike a balance between professionalism and Austin-style keepin’-it-weird-ness. The post received a lot of good feedback, which was initially encouraging. But after a few months of no job, I began to worry that it was too weird and not professional enough. It might have been paranoid of me, but I toned down the weirdness and also began to be more conservative in social media. Who knows whether any of this made a difference, one way or another. Maybe some recruiter was about to offer me a million dollars a year to tweet random observations about my elderly cat, but decided to pass because my blog was too boring. This is just one of the pitfalls of job hunting in 2012. You want to be authentic but not eccentric.
My wife also hit up her online network, especially on Facebook. It was gratifying to have husbands-of-friends-of-friends-of-my-wife crawling out of the woodwork to try to help me.
I had a veritable army of support during my job hunt. Probably the most valuable resource were all the moms and dads at my daughter’s school (you know who you are). THANK YOU! I enjoyed many lunches, coffees, email exchanges, and phone calls within this network. I felt like everyone was looking out for me. Whether or not it led closer to a J-O-B, it was always good to explore possibilities and get my morale boosted by good conversation and the fries at Hyde Park Bar & Grill. My parents and in-laws also provided a steady stream of referrals. Any one of these could have led to a dream job. It was only a matter of time.
Most of us ignore LinkedIn except to connect with the occasional past colleague or maybe to post in the “Cat Fancy” group. But when you’re job hunting it is a tremendously valuable resource. First, tons of companies post jobs there — and some only post jobs on LinkedIn. Second, you can set up all kinds of custom searches that filter by multiple criteria: Salary, location, keyword, industry, et al. (Protip: If you include salary in your search criteria, you will miss out on jobs that don’t specify any salary. I learned this the hard way.) I had five or six custom searches and got email alerts every day.
I upgraded my LinkedIn account to “Job Seeker” ($29.95/month) . This upgrade allowed me to send email to people out of my network, become a “featured applicant” when I applied for jobs and, somewhat creepily, see who’s viewed my LinkedIn profile. (I’m going to miss this last one.) If you’re looking for a job, this upgrade is totally worth it. It was easy to downgrade once I landed a gig.
I’m not the world’s most organized person, but I am fond of using spreadsheets to track things. I had two: a frequently updated list of links to companies where I might want to work and a list of all the jobs I’d applied for.
Every few days I’d visit all the links in the first document to see if any new jobs had been posted. (There are many companies who post only on their corporate website — jobs that you will never see on Monster, LinkedIn, or anywhere else.)
The second spreadsheet became useful once I’d applied for a bunch of jobs. As the recruiters started calling, it was useful to be able to quickly reference the position I’d applied for, where I’d seen it posted, and a brief job description. And every time I was turned down, I moved the job off the main spreadsheet into a new tab called “Rejects.” This tab will make for good bedtime reading when I need a dose of despair.
There is a point in a sustained job hunt in which you believe you are doing everything wrong and that it’s time to think outside the box. It was at this point that I awoke one morning determined to create an online “Choose Your Own Adventure” game in which recruiters could play until they made all the right decisions, culminating in hiring me. This might have been a good idea if I were an actual computer programmer and/or had limitless time. Instead I did it totally half-assed. What can I say? I was desperate.
After applying to more than 60 positions, speaking with dozens of recruiters, interviewing with a handful of hiring managers, and rejecting one offer, I finally received a job offer from Dell. I’d applied on their website on April 10, had a phone interview less than two weeks later, an in-person interview a couple days after the phone interview, and an offer the following day. The entire process, from submitting my application to getting hired, took less than three weeks.
It’s not supposed to work this way!
And in fact, it almost didn’t work at all. I’d very nearly given up applying for positions at Dell, having applied previously for 10 other jobs without hearing anything back. You gotta be persistent.
I think part of the reason I got the job at Dell was because I’d had so much practice leading up to it. I’d had four months to practice my interview skills. Four months to identify what I am really good at and enjoy vs. what direction my career could take, if absolutely necessary. And Dell really impressed me; it was amazing to see such a huge company move so quickly to recruit someone. I start the job in two weeks (I still have client work to wrap up) and I’m thrilled to be starting something new.
Who I am:
Digital marketing strategist and creative technologist with 15+ years of professional experience — eight years in the financial services industry — with specific knowledge of socially responsible investing and alternative asset classes. FINRA licenses 6, 26, and 63.
Who I really am:
Father. Occasional writer and musician.
What I’m looking for:
The ideal position would be within the marketing department of a financial services company or at an agency with financial clients. Job title would resemble the following: E-business Lead; Digital Marketing Strategist; E-Commerce Director; Online Marketing Manager et al. But I have many interests and areas of knowledge and would be open to other opportunities.
Reasons to Hire Me:
I know stuff. And if I don’t know the answer, I know where to find it. Everything from web analytics to Google Adwords to Facebook apps to FINRA compliance to what it’s like to drive an ice cream truck in November. Just ask.
I can do stuff. The natural evolution of a career takes you from accomplishing tasks to assigning them — and mine is no different — but I think it’s important to always have one foot in the trenches. I’m great with Dreamweaver, Photoshop, Excel, Mac or Windows, you name it.
I can juggle. I mean this figuratively…and literally. Throw projects at me and I will keep them running. Throw machetes at me and, if I am not mortally wounded, I will juggle them.