My Final Assignment in CubeWorld™

They say, "Do what you love." Ha! Wouldn't we all love to be able to follow that trite advice? Whoever said that was one of the rare people already doing what they love. Most of us do well to "do what we can stand." Sorry, kids. this is the way of the world - that is if you want to eat and pay your bills.

But today I'm fairly convinced that this will be the last time I have to "do what you hate." It's awesome when a person is passionate about their work. It's sad when they are the opposite of passionate. That's what this place makes me. (Looking up the opposite of passionate now but can't find the right word.) The problem is the product we sell. Right now I am creating the third and fourth emails in a campaign where the recipients ignored the initial and follow-up emails. In other words, they have no interest in what we are offering, its reputation sullied after years of being oversold and undermaintained, but we will hammer at that list as long as we have names and live emails.

And that lack of belief in what we do here is detrimental not only to me, but to my coworkers and the company. They don't need a malcontent like me writing their emails, their posters, their come-ons and their hurry-don't-wait-time's-running-outs! I'm sure it hasn't slipped through in my writing to the customers and potential customers that I find the offerings undesirable, but it can't go unnoticed around the cubes, where every manner of corporate waste, abuse, backstabbing, politicking, senseless meetings, endless projects and underhanded weaselness is practiced. Not only practiced, but rewarded, as the ones who do those things best rise up in the ranks. These are the sorts of things I enjoy pointing out at every opportunity. Because they are so stupid. And because the people who practice them are so dead to what used to drive them that they don't even see it anymore.

I'm glad to be escaping this tomb of zombies and glad for the opportunities ahead. It's almost lunch time, my stuff is packed. I wrote a Post-it note with the username / password info for this Mac for the next person who sits here. Time to go let the boss know I'm gone. Time to go do something I love.

The Skills You Kids are Losing

A one-off, most likely. (Click for the cubicle-hanging size.)

Friday is Just Like Any Other Day Lately

Life on the dole is a curious existence. On the one hand, you desperately search for gainful employment, while on the other, you have time to do things you didn't have time for when you were driving one hour one-way to sit in a generic office building in a cube, pumping out copy for taskmasters more suited to pushing a broom in a warehouse than making strategic marketing decisions. (And even then, I'm not sure I would trust them to sweep correctly.) Here's some of what I've been up to.

Presented a series of logos to a Jacksonville-based company, which is funny, because I'm not a designer. They actually loved one and are already using it on their in-development, internal site. I didn't charge them, since they're friends. And yes, I impressed them with the much-maligned (and deservedly so) faded reflection feature. 

Went on a job interview down in Tampa. Met with the lead person, who said, "My team would like to sit with you and discuss some things." In walked 11 people, who proceeded to tell me about the company and pepper me with questions such as, "What superpower do you wish you had?" "What animal would you be?" and "Pirate or Ninja?" (I swear.)

Took delivery of a 50" Sanyo Plasma. (Long story, but it was a prize.) This thing is imposing. Our "old" TV is now in the bedroom, a 42" Sony Bravia. I am now Winston Smith from 1984, trying to escape the giant visages screaming at me about healthcare reform from every room.

Presented a very cool idea to my favorite grocery chain. It was received well and is now being passed up the ladder, where it will likely meet its death in committee. Currently it remains a secret, but if and when they adopt it, I will be its loudest and most constant promoter, to the point that you will say, "I wish he'd shut the hell up about that stupid f-ing grocery chain." I made the pitch in Powerpoint - and yes - I am ashamed of that.

Got an up-close, inside look into how homeowner's insurance works. Basically, you make a claim, based on the recommendation of a professional whose job it is to determine these things, and then you watch as the insurance company spends thousands of dollars to fight your claim. I understand the need on their part to guard against fraudulent claims, but when you approach a long-standing policy holder as someone trying to get one over on you, then you pretty much suck in the customer service area. Are you in good hands? Now there's a feel-good slogan that doesn't mean a damn thing. Fuck you, All-State.

Went to a home-brew party at the neighbors'. They're Americanized Brits, the husband being some sort of mad-scientist for a defense contractor. I think he makes lasers that shoot out of cats' eyes. He also makes a great beer, or three. I came up with about six names for his concoctions with accompanying label designs, which again is funny, because I'm not a designer. But to a physicist like my neighbor, if you're "in advertising," then you can do that thing with The Photoshop, right? And when a physicist tackles a hobby like home-brewing, the results are very impressive. I am pushing him to "Take it to the Next Level!"

Added actual ads to this site. Am I a sell out? Yes, but it doesn't pay off until you have actual traffic. 150 visitors a day is not going to fetch me any serious coin. Also added a "featured video" in the sidebar, which will rotate with stuff from my YouTube account when I get around to it.

I have been living like a European, riding my bike each day to the market and loading up an old child carrier / trailer I found on Craigslist with the day's groceries and the evening's dinner. So far, no stalks of celery or baguettes sticking up out of the bags in that grocery cliché seen in the movies. I'm even using those damned reusable canvas grocery bags. I justify this disgusting transformation in me as "exercise with a purpose." We need groceries and I need exercise. Ya know, two birds. I'm sure people think I'm being "green," when actually I'm just trying to get in shape for the Apocalypse.

It is estimated that as many as 75% of American homes have within them a guitar. Granted, that guitar may be stringless and in the attic, but it is still there. It is also estimated that as many as 80% of all American males have attempted at one time to learn to play the guitar*. I knew how not long ago, but life has a tendency to get in the way of such luxuries. Dusted off the dobro and greased the strings, trying to remember where to put my fingers to make it sing like it used to.

* Both estimates based on pure fantasy with no data to prove them.

I Guess It's Time To Sell T-Shirts

Teri, a reader who handles interactive strategy at an agency in Michigan, has posted some of my comics on her cube wall without my permission; the very same comics that are based on a picture I stole from Getty Images without permission. I have chosen not to pursue legal action against Teri, since she also posts a picture of Robert Plant with the caption, "Does anyone remember Friendster?"

Le Large

The Boss Wants Your Goals

And he will have a fancy name for them, like "Aspirational Benchmarks." And he will meet with you again later in the year to see how you're doing. And you will say, "I think I've hit all my goals." And he will say, "You're doing better in areas A and B, but you need improvement in area C." And you will fantasize about weighing him down with bricks and tossing him in a river. You might even draw a cartoon of that fantasy. Try not to post that cartoon on your cube wall.

Click for the Bigness, Print it, Post it on your Cube Wall.

Things You Should've Learned a Long Time Ago

Or - 12* Things I Won't Miss About CubeWorld^TM

1. When two people are walking down a hall side-by-side in conversation and another person approaches going the opposite way, ONE OF YOU NEEDS TO STEP ASIDE SO I DON'T HAVE TO DUCK INTO A DOORWAY TO LET YOU PASS.
2. I'm sure whomever you're talking to on your cellphone from the bathroom stall would love to know that YOU ARE TALKING TO THEM WHILE TAKING A CRAP.
3. FLUSH THE DAMN TOILET, ASSHOLE.
4. Your cologne/perfume needs to be used MORE SPARINGLY.
5. Switching to Spanish from English when the non-Hispanic enters the area is RUDE.
6. Could you possibly crunch your snack ANY LOUDER?
7. We don't all love your music. They're called HEADPHONES.
8. The meetings about meetings? They're a WASTE OF TIME and MONEY.
9. It's going to take you a long time to clear your cube of all those personal belongings when they lay you off. IT'S WORK - NOT A SHRINE TO YOUR CHILDREN, CATS or BOYFRIEND.
10. Gay guys - shut up with the gay sex humor. WE GET IT; YOU'RE GAY.
11. Gay guys - quit complimenting the women. Straight guys get TAKEN TO H.R. FOR THAT.
12. The morning gossip sessions about what you watched on TV last night need to be dialed down - SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP.

* Post #1,200 at Where's My Jetpack?

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.

What? Was I Supposed to Lie?

With Life-Like Violence

You know a company is going through tough times not just by the layoffs, but by the inattention to building and facilities maintenance.

The Galaga machine down in the employee lounge has had a faulty power supply for over a month and no one has been out to fix it. Having conquered that game and owning all high scores, I was forced to turn my attention to Tekken Tag. Today I beat the final level.

I believe my work here is done.

You Know That Recession They Talk About?

It's real. A bunch of people got their walking papers this morning here in CubeWorld^TM. Artists, writers, production managers, web designers and account execs—gone. It sucks to watch them pack their stuff and say their goodbyes. Most of them were gone by the time I got in today, but a few can still be heard over the cube walls, packing boxes and doing their best to make light of the circumstance.

I'm told their benefits expire at midnight tonight. What a bite. On the bright side, they were treated to a last meal. Here's this morning's message from our department blog.

I think we should all band together and start an agency. With the talent that walked out of here today, you could build a pretty good shop. I get first dibs on the position of agency blogger. Oh, and I know how to start an agency.

Dear HR

I've about exhausted the "Old Man and His Platoon of Butt-Kissers" comic. So here's a new one.

Cell-Phone Photography Review

Since I know you've been waiting for more in my sporadic series featuring my stunning and thoughtful photographic studies of life in CubeWorld^TM , I present the latest print. It's called "Stay Hungry - Applesauce and Chopsticks #23."

From Cell Phone Photography Review Quarterly comes this assessment:

Jetpacks again defies reason, sense and taste by giving us another of his grainy, stupid cell-phone images. As if we didn't notice the "irony" of putting chopsticks in applesauce, the "photographer" has to title this "piece" to help us "get it." As for composition, lighting and texture, why even bother? When your subject matter is so inane, it's hard to care about the thing any further. Shite. Crap. Poop.

Hmmm. Jealous much, CPPRQ?

Uh, Thanks?

My department at CubeWorld^TM has a little blog where we keep up on who's sick or who's coming in late or if there are donuts from some print vendor in the break room. It's a little team thing that makes us all feel "connected" and stuff. Feel good inspiration from the bosses, policy updates, server issues, etc. They also post birthdays. They posted mine today. That was nice.

Except my birthday is in mid December.

Notes on a Meeting #5

Billboard meeting this morning. We didn't really get anywhere. I did, however, come up with a new character. He is "F-Man^®" I'm sure you know the guy. He exists in all creative circles, telling everyone why their ideas are lame. (Actually, I am him more often than I'd care to admit.) At F-Man's side is Existential Dawg, another character from a while back.

If I keep this up, I'm going to have an entire cast of characters for a comic soap opera before long.

Follow the trail of "Notes on a Meeting" here.

Notes on a Meeting #4

Sleepy time conference call, requiring doodling.
Meet "Big Bill (Bad Boss)^®"

Click it for large

Follow this trail for earlier "Notes on a Meeting."

Notes on a Meeting

You know those people who take fervent notes throughout a meeting? They're the same people who highlight passages in books to the point that most of the book is highlighted. You want to tell them, "Hey, why not just get a bucket of liquid highlighter and dip the whole book in it?"

If I do take notes in a meeting, it's rare that I will ever go back to them. And when I take notes, I invariably create some random one-time character who stares back at me from the notebook, usually mocking my career choice or someone in the meeting who has gone on for far too long. Today, the character is SUMBITCH^TM, some sort of cowboy, who can't fathom what I do or why I do it.

Has it Been a Year Already?

What started as a three-month gig in MegaCorp's Cube World^TM is now a year old. I must be doing something right if they keep me around.

Interestingly, it is also the anniversary of Andrew Meyer's stunt. Name not ringing any bells? Good. Because Andrew Meyer is a jackass who attempted fame the stupid way. His shout shall live forever, though.

Cubicle Still Life

Click for large

A black and white study in the life of the modern cube dweller, taken as we in CubeWorld^™ waited to be released early in litigious fear of Tropical Storm Fay, lest an employee run his car into a ditch on the way home and blame his evil corporate masters for making him stay at work when it was raining a little harder than normal.

A review of the photograph:

In the antiseptic style characteristic of this sort of work, Jetpacks takes us into the typical and retreaded "misery of the cubicle," where it's all wires and buttons, chrome and plastic. A pair of sunglasses suggests the longing for the outdoors and fresh air, while a small fan, ridiculously (or more likely in the mind of the artist, "rebelliously") labeled "fake wind," provides some small semblance of nature. An older model cell phone lets us know (without any attempt at subtlety) that the artist is either stuck in the past or can't afford an iPhone.

For all its overbearing and fervent striving at importance, "Cubicle Still Life" is neither remarkable nor poignant, and calls to mind the photography of impoverished street children who are given disposable cameras for some do-gooder PBS special, randomly and haphazardly taking pictures of nothing.

The Mariachis Went their Separate Ways

A coworker sent me this image and asked me to caption it. It's stuff like this that keeps work fun when the current workload isn't all that fun.

Click for giant image that you can waste a lot of toner on printing

A Midsummer Day's Dream

It's summertime and I'm trapped in a cube. My iGoogle theme is now a rotating beach banner. As Captain Kirk might admonish himself, "Must...FOCUS! MUST...main...TAIN!"

Beach Bums

From the album Telegraph Canyon

We can get all sweaty, then sticky saltwater wet
Your hair dryin’ in the sun
Bring a book and a board and some beer in a cooler
We’ll toss a disc and forget

Find a stretch to stretch on — away from the crowd
You look like Jackie-O in those shades
It’s hot enough – why you do that to me
Spin a disc and play it loud

Baby, let’s be surf dogs
Let’s just be water rats
Come on, let’s be beach bums
Wind in our hair
Waves at our backs

I don’t wanna wear socks or shoes anymore
Open toed and open shirt
We’ll eat the catch of the day down at JB’s
Then make our way back to the shore

Loose the bonds, lose the suit — ocean breeze on your skin
Take a dip, you skinny cool girl
It’s dark enough, no one will see
You always love it once you get in

We’ll build a fire — sleep out here tonight
The dog can walk himself
Hear the pounding and the beat on the beach
Back to the shack with the morning light

Baby, let’s be surf dogs
Let’s just be water rats
Come on, let’s be beach bums
Wind in our hair
Waves at our backs