Saturated Street Scenes and Other Odds and Ends

Found this one on Google Maps at Hersheypark in Hershey, Pennsylvania.

More locally, a Salvation Army bell ringer at my local Publix has a style that suggests she has found joy in this volunteer position. She never uses the chair they provide her, and she's always dancing.



I've obviously not been doing much ad blogging. Other things seem to have overtaken this thing in importance. Like work, among other endeavors. I'm so far behind on current events, not to mention the stupid, echo chamber, self-love-fest that is the advertising industry. Here's how far behind I am. I only today discovered Bad Lip Reading's Obama song called "Trick the Bridesmaid," which is pretty good for a silly little song. That ridiculous chorus is stuck in my head. It's got a catchy hook.

Went to the mall yesterday. That was terrifying. Have to go again today. Can't wait.

Git Off Mah Laaawn!

From Kansas City-based Austin Walsh Photography comes this twist on the company Holiday Greeting production. AWP's studio chief asks, "Heartfelt or Creepy? You decide." Well - after watching, it's very much both. Dolls with messed up eyes are the stuff of nightmares, but obsessed old men from the suburbs of KC who believe in Santa Claus are the stuff of Disney. And it's nice to see a studio/collective/agency just telling a story instead of putting antlers on the office dog and acting cute.

Pimp Santa

Disclaimer: The author if this blog does not condone violence against women. Or children. Or even against people who give Santa Claus sugar free cookies, suggesting that perhaps he needs to lose some of that gut and keep an eye on his diabetes and blood pressure. The author of this blog finds no humor in domestic violence of any kind, even against stupid pets that can't get the hang of pissing and shitting outside after a year of patiently and sternly showing them that they are totally fucking up the carpets and praising them when they once in a while get it right. (OK, a swat to the nose or rump is permissible here.) However, the author of this blog can and will, at his discretion, create comics that depict situations that show beloved characters in situations we might not normally find them in, such as Santa slapping a woman. Come on, you laughed.

Indulgence - They Has It

I have never in my life known anyone to give or get a new car for Christmas, but the car companies sure think it's a good idea. They always have. And I suppose they'll give you the giant bow as well for when you blindfold your loved-one and walk them to the driveway to reveal the gift you'll both be paying for for the next five years.

But Acura is running some spots for the Holidays that you might not fast-forward though on your DVR. Concept, writing, and above all, casting, are sharp. My favorite is this guy, showing off his post-modern gingerbread house. The pauses make it.



Others in the series include:

Over-lighted house guy

800 thread-count stocking lady

And the very Walken-esque "Chestnut." (Seriously, there's no way the writer and director weren't thinking Walken when they produced this.)

May the Blessings of the Season Be Yours

It's not too early for a corporate Christmas card, is it?

I Made You a Christmas Card

Make it Shine

Some faith groups don't mind when you poke a little fun at them, while others will cut your head off if you do. Any sour Christians out there wanting to issue a fatwa over this, please consult your Savior for how to properly respond.

They Grow Up So Fast (Courtesy of Advertising)

Mas grande

What Do You Do on The Top Side of My House, Fat Man?

I enjoy language. And I enjoy foreign languages, not that I can speak any. And I enjoy taking words in English, dropping them into a translator, converting them to another language, and then converting them from that language back into English. Why? Because I can. And because something always gets lost or found in the translation.

And now, courtesy of Babelfish and Xtranormal, a German guy who speaks passing English (learned in the Oxford tradition, as Germans tend to do when learning English) will recount a thrilling, snowy evening in which he encountered a jolly man in a reindeer-driven sleigh who entered his home and put gifts around the fireplace. Or rather, he will recite for us, "The Night Before Christmas," by Clement Clarke Moore, as translated from his native tongue.

How They Get Their Christmas Trees in Alaska

I was talking to one of my sisters the other day, as it is my annual habit to ring them on their birthdays and do the yearly catch-up, when our small talk turned to Christmas trees. I mentioned that we had just put ours up. She asked, "Did you go out to the woods and cut it down?" which made me laugh, as we don't do that down here. We have many places to find trees, but the woods isn't one of them, and we usually just end up at Home Depot. I could tell she thought that was sort of sad, and now I know why. She just sent me these images of her recent excursion to round up a Christmas tree.

Step One: Find tree in remote forest.

Step Two: Drag tree under wing of plane.

Step Three: Secure tree to wing struts with shrink wrap.

Step Four: Fly home, set up tree.

عيد ميلاد سعيد من المملكة العربية السعودية

Having failed tragically in my endeavor to make a killing creating Thanksgiving cards for the Russian immigrant market, I'm turning my attention to customized Saudi Christmas cards, where I understand many fortunes have been realized by go-getter entrepreneurs such as myself. We shall see. My first commission comes from a man who must keep his identity anonymous, since celebrating Christmas in Saudi Arabia is against the law.

ص. ضخم, كبير, هام, حبلي

The title reads, "Merry Christmas from Saudi Arabia." The fine print at bottom translates roughly: "My wives could not pose with me, as you would've lusted for them and then I'd have to kill them."

Take Your Music With You!

A rolling turntable, radio thingy, so the Mrs. can sip on her purple stuff whilst she preps the food for her grateful crew, who are celebrating the birth of the baby Jesus with appropriate mirth and merriment.

Jollier

Original image from Shorpy, modified to the point of desecration by me, on a rainy day at work as I await the call for the pot luck lunch.

The Day The Theater Was Sold Out

Christmas used to be a great day to go to the movies, as you and a handful of people didn't have to suffer lines or sell-outs. You could stroll up to the box office three minutes before show time and still get a prime seat. Not so anymore. Movies get released on Christmas day and people have turned what was a secret Jewish custom into a national event. I know the Jews must be pissed at the Gentiles for co-opting their Christmas tradition.

But we were torn yesterday. Nothing really jumped out at us.

There was the new Brad Pitt movie, which looked OK, but we didn't feel like sitting through three solid hours of Pitt being pretty. Eventually, maybe when the crowds die down, we will see what all the hype is about.

There was Brad Pitt's ex-wife's new movie, in which she stars with that idiot Owen dude. Aniston is sure to play a lovable if slightly ditzy hot chick, while Owen is sure to play a lovable, if slightly ditzy, laid-back surfer type. There's also a dog. Cute. Not happening. Not even on DVD or HBO.

There was Brad Pitt's ex-wife's ex-boyfriend Vince Vaughn in a throwaway Christmas feel-good festival. I wish to meet Vince Vaughn some dark night in a drunken alley knife fight.

Will Smith's new offering seemed a little weird, all about organ donation. Not your average holiday fare, so we declined on that.

Actor du jour Philip Seymour Hoffman stars opposite Meryl Streep in a movie about a priest who might be molesting boys. Sounds like fun - when I am stranded on a desert island and a rescue package arrives and the only thing in it is a battery powered DVD player and that movie.

There were various animated things, crap movies from Sandler and Carey, both of whom have worn out their welcome playing the same guy all the time (France - you want these guys?) that vampire movie for tween girls, and Keanu Reeves playing himself in a remake of the classic The Day The Earth Stood Still.

So, much to my horror, we agreed on Tom Cruise's new film, in which he plays Tom Cruise trying to act like a Nazi officer. I was sure he would strut about in Tom Cruise fashion, being all Tom Cruisey, urgent and badly trying to convey earnestness.

Sold out. I was not really disappointed.

So we saw Keanu, in IMAX, and it was a good mindless romp in that campy old sci-fi style in which every military or government type is hyper-dogmatic and cardboard. Reeves did not even bother me in this role, because it was made for his limited skills as an actor. Kathy Bates is the Secretary of Defense, and clearly modeled her performance on Hillary Clinton. The heavy-handed "You're killing the planet so we have to kill you" message was groan-inspiring and I half expected Al Gore to make a cameo. John Cleese did make a cameo, which is always nice. And for anyone who is not a fan of the New York Giants, the destruction of Giants stadium is awesome, but I'm sure it's pure sacrilege worthy of a fatwa in certain areas of the northeast.

Peace on Earth for Twenty-One Seconds

Wind & Water

Christmas Eve, back porch, morning breeze blowing chimes as the pool is reflected on the ceiling. A coot can be heard on the canal while a jet passes overhead, on its way to Orlando International Airport, likely loaded with tourists coming down for the Holidays. Many of them will step off the plane and think, "We've got to move here."

La Navidad en la Florida

Makes you think all the world's a sunny day...

Norfolk Island Pine, front yard 12.24.08 / 8:31 AM

Oranges, back yard 12.24.08 / 8:33 AM

They get ridiculously large if you click them.

Tidings of Comfort and Joy

I've been the recipient of some nice cards and gifts from people I've never met this season. Among them, I got a card from the man with three "M's" in his name, M. M. McDermott of The Renegade Agency Confessional. Thanks, MMM. Kind of you.

From Atlanta came a package yesterday from "Aunt Mary," the deceased and eccentric relative of Fred Leo, better known as Every Sandwich, a guy I have much in common with and with whom I have collaborated on some fun stuff. Fred continues his aunt's tradition of sending weird and somewhat depressing gifts to friends and relatives. (Click "Aunt Mary" above for the full story.)

I got a bootlegged copy of "Century of the Self," the documentary by Adam Curtis, the first five minutes of which will confirm your long suppressed fear that if you are employed in marketing or advertising, you work for Satan. It also explores the relationship between advertising and politics and confirms that we are a stupid people, easily swayed by meaningless messaging. I'm looking forward to the remaining three hours of this career-affirming festival of joy.

Aunt Mary also sent this fine can, which I will keep in a safe place, to be consumed for a future Christmas dinner in a post-apocalyptic, desolate landscape of starvation and chaos, where the roving bands of marauding, radioactive zombies seek people to rape and dismember; where the streets run red with the blood of the saints and any glimmer of hope is lost; where carols around Christmas trees are but bitter memories of our lives wasted in the pursuit of things we didn't need.

Let's Put You in a Holiday Mood

Just as "Rudolph" and "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" and "A Charlie Brown Christmas" get airplay every year, you should also put this video on your seasonal Holiday Watch List. (Charlie Brown is depressing. That boy needs medication. Or at least hit his dad's liquor cabinet.) This holiday classic is from a few years ago, but like all the great holiday films, it still sets the tone for a wonderful yuletide.

I wrote more extensively about this very virile viral video last year.



See more of Chris Christmas Rodriquez here.

Just in Time For the Holidays

I'm thinking of launching a new line of holiday food-themed brand rip-offs. Let them know how much you love the holidays, but hate the logo-emblazoned clothing.

My Neighbors Didn't Hear About the Recession

Yesterday evening I was stringing lights on the house and my neighbor teases from across the street, "Well, now I guess we're going to have to do ours."

This morning a truck pulling a trailer marked "HANDYMAN" pulls up in front of their home and two guys commence to climbing on the roof and stringing up lights. They were still at it when I got home tonight.

I'm no handyman, but I'll be damned if I'm paying someone to string lights up. I always thought you hire a handyman for stuff you can't do, like building a panic room or installing a fire pole from the master bedroom down to the kitchen. I think my neighbors are both lazy and not hurting for cash. But that's good. They're keeping the economy in motion...and these handymen are milking the hell out of this job.

Mariah Carey, What Hath Thou Wrought?

I don't know when it started, but somewhere along the way singers all started to do that warbly thing. I can't describe it in words well, but it's where they take a single syllable and turn it into five syllables and take it all over a scale or up and down an octave. It's show-off singing. Right now, some cube dweller here on what I call "Death Row" (where they keep the creatives on their way out soon - far away from the other creatives) someone from another department keeps a clock radio for company. They also enjoy Christmas music. Some unknown (to me) lady crooner is smoothing her way through "Do You Hear What I Hear" right now, where even the word "I" is an unrecognizable string of sounds, as if she's trying to impress a panel of judges at a high school talent show. It's enough to make me even more Scrooge-like. Gimme my headphones.

Puck Lite: Baby Jesus Never Looked So Happy

Every once in a while, you come across a product that works, suits your needs and renews your faith in the Chinese work ethic. With Mother Mary and Step-dad Joseph as my witnesses, I am not being paid for this post.

I was entrusted with my parents' nativity scene for the Holidays, as they are off in Alaska for a time, visiting Sarah Palin and a couple of my sisters. My Dad takes great pains to light this thing just perfectly in his home, so I felt the need to do it justice and give it the proper Catholic Statuary Ambiance it deserves. Each figure measures about 16", and we decided to put it in the front window of the library here at the Jetpack Compound, the better to antagonize our Santa-worshiping neighbors. (And to let our Jewish neighbors know that we know that Jesus was a Jew. Solidarity and all. Yo. Peace.)

Problem was lighting. I experimented with all manner of clip lights and standing floor lamps, but nothing was working. Enter Puck Lite: a set of three LED lights, battery operated, with peel-and-stick adhesive backing, for under $5 at the local Publix in the light-bulb aisle. (Made in China. God Bless China.) You can see them in the photo below, shining down on this humble scene like three giant Stars of Bethlehem.

I knew I had the perfect lighting scheme going when I heard, "Oh-mi-gawd, Dave! That thing in the front window is sooooo creepy!"

Yes! Nailed it.