I was doing some Christmas shopping at Borders, and at the checkout I saw this tiny felt giftbag with a penguin on it, meant to hold a giftcard. “Oh!” I thought. “How cute! So-and-so would really like this bag!” And it was on sale for 50% off—only $2.
Luckily I caught myself, like so many practical women before me I realized that the wrapping paper from last year was perfectly good enough for this year’s gifts. Because if we don’t watch it, we’ll spend $2, and $2, and $2 again, until we’ve spent $40 or more dollars on useless Christmas crap that will probably be thrown away.
Retailers are cunning that way. I once read a famous copywriter who said that there is a psychology of selling, where if someone makes one purchase they’ll be in the mood to purchase additional, unplanned items.
I love Christmas, and I know most of the readers of this blog love it, too. But part of what I really love is seeing the same items over and over again as I get older. The collections people acquire over the years—the sentimental items, worth money or maybe not. On my mother’s side of the family it would be these Santa mugs, placed on the room divider between the kitchen and living room, from probably the 1950s, that acquired chips over years of handling. As a child I would step into my granparents’ house during Christmas break and see those mugs, and know I was in for a few days of uncensored sweets, hanging out with my best-friend cousins, sweet pickles, and of course my loving grandparents and family. Those mugs still remain in my family, at a beloved aunt’s house.
On my father’s side of the family it would be an electric candelabra I would see in my grandparents’ window as we drove up to their Kansas City home at night. I would know that both my grandparents would be there in their cardigan sweaters to greet me, that there would be delicious chocolate chip cookies, and that if there was snow, I’d be sledding with my cousins on slopes so dangerous we could give ourselves concussions. I think my grandmother probably still puts this candelabra out at Christmas.
If there is a higher purpose in our severe recession, I think it is to remind us that there are more important things than money, and we should be thankful for the things we have. That if we give them a polish, we can see them as if new again.
Because the crappy light-up Santa tree topper, which doesn’t even have a face anymore, bought in 1965 (making that up) for 50 cents, proves so much more valuable with the memories it acquires than a newer, snazzier tree topper on sale at Macy’s.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
The American Nightmare
I was reading “Fast Food Nation” by Eric Schlosser, and in the first couple of chapters, the author discusses the founding of the fast food industry that took place in the first half of the 20th century. Carl Karcher, the founder of burger chain Carl’s Jr., held various working-class jobs before he started the company, one of which was a bread truck driver. He became a bread truck driver around the age of 23, which gave him enough money to buy a home and start a family.
“Really?” I frowned when I read this. “With that job he could start a family? He could buy a home?”
It seemed a miracle to me that a bread truck driver would be able to do all that, so I decided to look into it. I typed “bread truck driver” into the online Salary Wizard, being sure to search within Orange County, California, where Karcher lived. The nearest two jobs I could find were “van driver” and “truck driver, light,” and the starting salary looked to be somewhere between $24,000 and $28,000.
So let’s examine if in 2009, Carl could achieve the American Dream. Let’s say his starting salary was $26,000. You take away 15% for taxes, and you’re left with $22,100. That’s $1,842 of take-home income a month. Let’s then surmise that Carl pays attention to financial experts and only allows himself to spend 25% of his income on housing—that’s $460 per month. $460 per month will get you not a one-bedroom apartment, not a studio, but a smallish room in a shared apartment in a non-trendy area of town. (Let’s say, like most middle-class Americans, Carl has also been to college, but has failed to major in computer programming, so he is now driving a truck. My personal view is that anyone who faithfully devotes himself to 16 years of the American education system and graduates with a degree should have a reasonable expectation to be able to afford his own apartment. For that matter, even people with GEDs should expect a reasonable quality of life.)
Okay, $1,842-$460 gives you $1,382. Let’s also say Carl has student loans to repay, I think those are typically 5% of income, so $108 per month—that leaves $1,274. But Carl is also responsible, and he begins socking away 10% of his take-home pay into an IRA, that’s $184 a month, leaving $1,090. Carl also has car payments—that’s $250/month. That leaves $840. He has auto insurance ($100/month) and health insurance ($100/month). That’s $640. He has occasional visits to the doctor, oil changes, prescriptions, etc.—let’s put that stuff at $50/month. $590. He has haircuts, occasional new shoes, shirts, etc.--$40/month. $550 left. He has gasoline at $100 per month—that leaves $450. He has groceries at $200 per month if he’s thrifty, that leaves $250. Don’t forget utilities (Internet, gas, electricity, cable, etc.) at $100/month, again—if he and his roommate are thrifty. That leaves $150. Let’s say he indulges $100 per month for beers and meals with friends, movies, etc. He never takes vacations. There’s $50 per month left to buy a home and start a family.
Okay, Carl is optimistic. He will put that $50 per month into a fund earning 8% annually to save up for a down payment on a house. Lower-end 3-bedroom homes in that area of California look to be around $400,000 today, which means if he put a 5% down payment on a home today, he’d be paying $20,000. But let’s say home values rise with the inflation rate, and from my shoddy math, the down payment would be $40,000 in 20 years time. Carl’s income has probably increased over the years, but so has the cost of living. And even 20 years later, he still has not managed to save enough to make that down payment. He will be in his late 40s or early 50s before he can afford to buy a home and start a family.
And that is the financial bracket that young Americans live in today. Most of us will have to choose between saving for retirement and being dependent on our children because we chose to buy a home instead. That is, those of us lucky enough to be able to save at all.
And higher education no longer guarantees a great job. The new wisdom is that a college degree is mostly useless—you need a graduate degree in order to live comfortably. Even that doesn’t always work—there are plenty of graduate degree-holding people who are not paid adequately for their knowledge.
In a Harper’s article entitled, “Labor’s Last Stand” (July 2009), author Kevin Silverstein states that the rise of the middle class in the U.S. coincided with the rise of union organization—that is, the middle class was at its strongest at the same time unions were at their strongest, around the middle of the 20th century. The strength of unions has steadily declined since then, to the point where they represent 12 percent of the labor force today, as opposed to approximately 25 percent in England and 33 percent in Canada. The article also says that “the labor movement has achieved some early victories under Barack Obama….[He has issued an executive order] barring federal contractors from seeking reimbursement for anti-union expenditures….” That’s a wonderful thing he did, but I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read that anti-union expenditures was something a company could previously write off to the government.
For me, it sheds new light on the housing crisis. The victims of the crisis were not irresponsible people too lazy to save, but rather poor Americans sick of living in dingy apartments, excited at the prospect of something that could actually be an investment.
“Really?” I frowned when I read this. “With that job he could start a family? He could buy a home?”
It seemed a miracle to me that a bread truck driver would be able to do all that, so I decided to look into it. I typed “bread truck driver” into the online Salary Wizard, being sure to search within Orange County, California, where Karcher lived. The nearest two jobs I could find were “van driver” and “truck driver, light,” and the starting salary looked to be somewhere between $24,000 and $28,000.
So let’s examine if in 2009, Carl could achieve the American Dream. Let’s say his starting salary was $26,000. You take away 15% for taxes, and you’re left with $22,100. That’s $1,842 of take-home income a month. Let’s then surmise that Carl pays attention to financial experts and only allows himself to spend 25% of his income on housing—that’s $460 per month. $460 per month will get you not a one-bedroom apartment, not a studio, but a smallish room in a shared apartment in a non-trendy area of town. (Let’s say, like most middle-class Americans, Carl has also been to college, but has failed to major in computer programming, so he is now driving a truck. My personal view is that anyone who faithfully devotes himself to 16 years of the American education system and graduates with a degree should have a reasonable expectation to be able to afford his own apartment. For that matter, even people with GEDs should expect a reasonable quality of life.)
Okay, $1,842-$460 gives you $1,382. Let’s also say Carl has student loans to repay, I think those are typically 5% of income, so $108 per month—that leaves $1,274. But Carl is also responsible, and he begins socking away 10% of his take-home pay into an IRA, that’s $184 a month, leaving $1,090. Carl also has car payments—that’s $250/month. That leaves $840. He has auto insurance ($100/month) and health insurance ($100/month). That’s $640. He has occasional visits to the doctor, oil changes, prescriptions, etc.—let’s put that stuff at $50/month. $590. He has haircuts, occasional new shoes, shirts, etc.--$40/month. $550 left. He has gasoline at $100 per month—that leaves $450. He has groceries at $200 per month if he’s thrifty, that leaves $250. Don’t forget utilities (Internet, gas, electricity, cable, etc.) at $100/month, again—if he and his roommate are thrifty. That leaves $150. Let’s say he indulges $100 per month for beers and meals with friends, movies, etc. He never takes vacations. There’s $50 per month left to buy a home and start a family.
Okay, Carl is optimistic. He will put that $50 per month into a fund earning 8% annually to save up for a down payment on a house. Lower-end 3-bedroom homes in that area of California look to be around $400,000 today, which means if he put a 5% down payment on a home today, he’d be paying $20,000. But let’s say home values rise with the inflation rate, and from my shoddy math, the down payment would be $40,000 in 20 years time. Carl’s income has probably increased over the years, but so has the cost of living. And even 20 years later, he still has not managed to save enough to make that down payment. He will be in his late 40s or early 50s before he can afford to buy a home and start a family.
And that is the financial bracket that young Americans live in today. Most of us will have to choose between saving for retirement and being dependent on our children because we chose to buy a home instead. That is, those of us lucky enough to be able to save at all.
And higher education no longer guarantees a great job. The new wisdom is that a college degree is mostly useless—you need a graduate degree in order to live comfortably. Even that doesn’t always work—there are plenty of graduate degree-holding people who are not paid adequately for their knowledge.
In a Harper’s article entitled, “Labor’s Last Stand” (July 2009), author Kevin Silverstein states that the rise of the middle class in the U.S. coincided with the rise of union organization—that is, the middle class was at its strongest at the same time unions were at their strongest, around the middle of the 20th century. The strength of unions has steadily declined since then, to the point where they represent 12 percent of the labor force today, as opposed to approximately 25 percent in England and 33 percent in Canada. The article also says that “the labor movement has achieved some early victories under Barack Obama….[He has issued an executive order] barring federal contractors from seeking reimbursement for anti-union expenditures….” That’s a wonderful thing he did, but I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read that anti-union expenditures was something a company could previously write off to the government.
For me, it sheds new light on the housing crisis. The victims of the crisis were not irresponsible people too lazy to save, but rather poor Americans sick of living in dingy apartments, excited at the prospect of something that could actually be an investment.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Predatory Lending? or Predatory Everything?
During the past couple of years, the public has been appalled to hear of the predatory lending practices of mortgage companies that led to the current economic crisis. But I've been realizing that predatory business practices exist everywhere, and we don't notice because we're just so used to it.
Exhibit A: airport food. Don't laugh--it's true. When you go to an airport, you will be paying $10 for a mediocre vegetarian sandwich that doesn't even come with a side. Or $5 for a latte, or $4 for an orange juice. I'm doubting that rents are that high that restaurants and food stalls have to jack up their prices that much, but even if they are that high, why is the airport charging that much for rent? The mentality here is: people will be hungry and will have to stop for food, and they won't have anywhere to turn, so we can charge whatever we can get away with. It puts a little damper on your flight before you board the plane.
Exhibit B: parking garages. In downtown LA, you have to know exactly where you're parking before you get there, otherwise you'll be paying $12 for every 15 minutes you spend in one of the garages. And that's not an exaggeration, that's a real charge. There's no way that rent or operations cost so much that you have to charge $48 an hour for 60 square feet of space, but that's what happens. It's highway robbery. It has nothing to do with the actual worth of what you're getting--it's just what they can get away with.
Exhibit C: illegal immigrants. Some people will say that illegal immigrants are "good for the economy," but what they mean is that restaurant and farm owners can pay them less than minimum wage and get away with it. Several immigrants will live together in one-bedrooom apartments, and ride used bicycles while they try and send money home. How could you live with yourself if you were one of these employers? It takes a real jerk to do that.
Can you imagine if we treated our friends and family this way? "Thanks for returning my ladder, Larry, but if you read the fine print you'll see that you were actually leasing it. You owe me $500." Larry would soon ditch you as a friend. We accept this behavior from businesses because we are used to it, and because we often don't have any other place to shop.
Meditate on this image, which happens probably hundreds of times a day at a large sports stadium:
"Hi, I'll take two Bud Lights."
Employee pours out two cups of beer, "that'll be $15."
"$15 for two beers? That's bull****. Sheesh."
Employee, who has no control over pricing, and earns $8 an hour, absorbs negativity and frowns at customer as he hands him the change, and both leave the interaction with a bad feeling.
Exhibit A: airport food. Don't laugh--it's true. When you go to an airport, you will be paying $10 for a mediocre vegetarian sandwich that doesn't even come with a side. Or $5 for a latte, or $4 for an orange juice. I'm doubting that rents are that high that restaurants and food stalls have to jack up their prices that much, but even if they are that high, why is the airport charging that much for rent? The mentality here is: people will be hungry and will have to stop for food, and they won't have anywhere to turn, so we can charge whatever we can get away with. It puts a little damper on your flight before you board the plane.
Exhibit B: parking garages. In downtown LA, you have to know exactly where you're parking before you get there, otherwise you'll be paying $12 for every 15 minutes you spend in one of the garages. And that's not an exaggeration, that's a real charge. There's no way that rent or operations cost so much that you have to charge $48 an hour for 60 square feet of space, but that's what happens. It's highway robbery. It has nothing to do with the actual worth of what you're getting--it's just what they can get away with.
Exhibit C: illegal immigrants. Some people will say that illegal immigrants are "good for the economy," but what they mean is that restaurant and farm owners can pay them less than minimum wage and get away with it. Several immigrants will live together in one-bedrooom apartments, and ride used bicycles while they try and send money home. How could you live with yourself if you were one of these employers? It takes a real jerk to do that.
Can you imagine if we treated our friends and family this way? "Thanks for returning my ladder, Larry, but if you read the fine print you'll see that you were actually leasing it. You owe me $500." Larry would soon ditch you as a friend. We accept this behavior from businesses because we are used to it, and because we often don't have any other place to shop.
Meditate on this image, which happens probably hundreds of times a day at a large sports stadium:
"Hi, I'll take two Bud Lights."
Employee pours out two cups of beer, "that'll be $15."
"$15 for two beers? That's bull****. Sheesh."
Employee, who has no control over pricing, and earns $8 an hour, absorbs negativity and frowns at customer as he hands him the change, and both leave the interaction with a bad feeling.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
All the Single Ladies (and Gentlemen)
I haven't been grocery shopping in over a week. I'm out of butter and dishsoap and I'm almost out of eggs. But it's amazing how far you can stretch your refrigerator contents with a little imagination. May I present a recipe I came up with tonight...
Pesto in a Pan
2 tbs. olive oil
2 handfuls or tongfuls of leftover pasta
a couple tablespoons of Parmesan cheese (can ok)
generous amount of dried basil
salt and pepper to taste
dash garlic powder
nuts
It's good to start with all the ingredients out. Heat oil on medium-high heat in large saucepan, then throw in pasta. Toss in all the rest of the ingredients, adding in the amounts that taste good to you. Stir rapidly and constantly until heated through. Fold in nuts and top with parmesan cheese. Dinner is served in 5 minutes. Voila!
Clean-up looks to be a bitch as the pasta sticks to the pan, but oh well. At least now you can watch that movie you wanted to see.
Pesto in a Pan
2 tbs. olive oil
2 handfuls or tongfuls of leftover pasta
a couple tablespoons of Parmesan cheese (can ok)
generous amount of dried basil
salt and pepper to taste
dash garlic powder
nuts
It's good to start with all the ingredients out. Heat oil on medium-high heat in large saucepan, then throw in pasta. Toss in all the rest of the ingredients, adding in the amounts that taste good to you. Stir rapidly and constantly until heated through. Fold in nuts and top with parmesan cheese. Dinner is served in 5 minutes. Voila!
Clean-up looks to be a bitch as the pasta sticks to the pan, but oh well. At least now you can watch that movie you wanted to see.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
How I Finally Learned Sales
Selling things was something I long considered inferior to my intelligence, just as I figured I was too creative to really learn computer skills. But being of prime working age in the 21st century, those are both skills that come in handy again and again and again.
I have held many customer service positions--waitress, barista, waitress again, and finally vitamin-seller right now at a health food store. I have interacted with thousands of customers over the years, and right after college I found my lack of a powerful job rather depressing. A customer would ask me what my favorite side dish was at the restaurant where I worked, and I'd look at them with a blase expression and think, "Why has this person who has so much money chosen to put together that clothing combination?" or "Don't they know I'm a brilliant artist?" or "Has this person ever even seen a Woody Allen movie?" You can see this attitude time and time again when you walk into a Barnes & Noble or Borders--ask a salesperson for the latest bestseller and watch him raise his eyebrows--after all, he has a master's degree in creative writing and you don't.
So on the one hand you have unwilling salespeople who would rather be painting, or discussing politics, or drinking, or a combination of all three, and on the other hand you have the idea of the aggressive, fight-to-the-death salesperson. When we think of sales, we think of movies like Glengarry Glen Ross, where a group of men must play a desperate all-night game of lying and manipulation to make their sales quotas. We also think of door-to-door religious converters, and kids on the street holding clipboards who block your path by saying, "Do you have a minute for the environment?"
But this is a terrible business practice that only exists because aggressive, manipulative selling proves profitable among certain businesses. More credible businesses usually don't use these practices. I think about another sales job I had where I was a telemarketer for a few weeks. Our company was being contracted out by an obscure auto insurance company to find leads over the telephone. We had a script that we could not deviate from, that asked questions like, "How many cars do you have at your home?" The script never asked any yes or no questions like, "would you be interested in finding out about lower rates?" because the running wisdom was that yes or no questions allowed people to say "no" and hang up. Our bait was that we might be able to "save them money" over their current plan, but any American who pays attention to television would already know that they could compare rates on Esurance.com, and find the best deals there. Or, they might also know that Geico has really cheap insurance.
And there you have it--the most successful businesses in the U.S. never need to resort to manipulative selling practices, because they already have a great product. McDonald's can give you a hamburger in 60 seconds. Starbuck's gives you a strong cup of coffee that tastes the same each time. Geico gives you an online insurance quote and never has a salesperson call you. You would never find representatives from any of these companies stopping you in the street to buy their product. This is because they are at or near the top of their market. And if a company is resorting to aggressive selling practices, it probably has an inferior product.
But back to my experience as a salesperson--when I finally decided at my current job to pay attention to sales, I thought I would have to be like one of these manipulative guys in Glengarry Glen Ross. I thought I'd be trying to sell people the most expensive vitamins, and hypnotizing them into buying more than one product. But I soon found that people have a mind of their own, and will buy what they want to buy. And the more I worked there, the more I realized--the big secret of selling is liking and respecting people. That's it. So simple. No math involved, no analyzing of how much money I think this person makes.
It starts with a really simple thought, which I pulled from contemporary spiritual practices (but works for capitalism, ha), which works with any person in your life, regardless of whether or not you are selling something to them. The thought is, "I am talking to myself." If you understand the person you are talking to to be yourself, you will immediately be more concerned for them and more aware of their intelligence. Whenever I think this, I usually get an intuitive feeling of what they're doing in the store, it could be "I have a cold and I want to get out of here as fast as possible, just give me something," it could be "my girlfriend's all into natural products and wants me to stop taking antibiotics, but I think natural products are for hippies," or it could be "I have an hour to spend here and I want to find the perfect lipstick, because I've had a bad day." Selling things is not hard in Beverly Hills, but there are customers who want to spend $200 on vitamins and customers who want to spend $8. There are customers who don't want to spend money that day at all. And on a good day, provided that I'm not stressed out about my own life, I can help them all. Sometimes it's not about selling anything at all, but developing a relationship of trust with the customer. For example, sometimes I'll show a customer a couple of products, and they seem sort of doubtful, in which case I excuse myself to give her the privacy to decide for herself whether she wants those products or not. It's a real pity we don't work on commission.
But it's funny to me that being a successful salesperson is a simple matter of liking the people you interact with. That wisdom probably comes from the same place as, "do what you love, and the money will follow."
I have held many customer service positions--waitress, barista, waitress again, and finally vitamin-seller right now at a health food store. I have interacted with thousands of customers over the years, and right after college I found my lack of a powerful job rather depressing. A customer would ask me what my favorite side dish was at the restaurant where I worked, and I'd look at them with a blase expression and think, "Why has this person who has so much money chosen to put together that clothing combination?" or "Don't they know I'm a brilliant artist?" or "Has this person ever even seen a Woody Allen movie?" You can see this attitude time and time again when you walk into a Barnes & Noble or Borders--ask a salesperson for the latest bestseller and watch him raise his eyebrows--after all, he has a master's degree in creative writing and you don't.
So on the one hand you have unwilling salespeople who would rather be painting, or discussing politics, or drinking, or a combination of all three, and on the other hand you have the idea of the aggressive, fight-to-the-death salesperson. When we think of sales, we think of movies like Glengarry Glen Ross, where a group of men must play a desperate all-night game of lying and manipulation to make their sales quotas. We also think of door-to-door religious converters, and kids on the street holding clipboards who block your path by saying, "Do you have a minute for the environment?"
But this is a terrible business practice that only exists because aggressive, manipulative selling proves profitable among certain businesses. More credible businesses usually don't use these practices. I think about another sales job I had where I was a telemarketer for a few weeks. Our company was being contracted out by an obscure auto insurance company to find leads over the telephone. We had a script that we could not deviate from, that asked questions like, "How many cars do you have at your home?" The script never asked any yes or no questions like, "would you be interested in finding out about lower rates?" because the running wisdom was that yes or no questions allowed people to say "no" and hang up. Our bait was that we might be able to "save them money" over their current plan, but any American who pays attention to television would already know that they could compare rates on Esurance.com, and find the best deals there. Or, they might also know that Geico has really cheap insurance.
And there you have it--the most successful businesses in the U.S. never need to resort to manipulative selling practices, because they already have a great product. McDonald's can give you a hamburger in 60 seconds. Starbuck's gives you a strong cup of coffee that tastes the same each time. Geico gives you an online insurance quote and never has a salesperson call you. You would never find representatives from any of these companies stopping you in the street to buy their product. This is because they are at or near the top of their market. And if a company is resorting to aggressive selling practices, it probably has an inferior product.
But back to my experience as a salesperson--when I finally decided at my current job to pay attention to sales, I thought I would have to be like one of these manipulative guys in Glengarry Glen Ross. I thought I'd be trying to sell people the most expensive vitamins, and hypnotizing them into buying more than one product. But I soon found that people have a mind of their own, and will buy what they want to buy. And the more I worked there, the more I realized--the big secret of selling is liking and respecting people. That's it. So simple. No math involved, no analyzing of how much money I think this person makes.
It starts with a really simple thought, which I pulled from contemporary spiritual practices (but works for capitalism, ha), which works with any person in your life, regardless of whether or not you are selling something to them. The thought is, "I am talking to myself." If you understand the person you are talking to to be yourself, you will immediately be more concerned for them and more aware of their intelligence. Whenever I think this, I usually get an intuitive feeling of what they're doing in the store, it could be "I have a cold and I want to get out of here as fast as possible, just give me something," it could be "my girlfriend's all into natural products and wants me to stop taking antibiotics, but I think natural products are for hippies," or it could be "I have an hour to spend here and I want to find the perfect lipstick, because I've had a bad day." Selling things is not hard in Beverly Hills, but there are customers who want to spend $200 on vitamins and customers who want to spend $8. There are customers who don't want to spend money that day at all. And on a good day, provided that I'm not stressed out about my own life, I can help them all. Sometimes it's not about selling anything at all, but developing a relationship of trust with the customer. For example, sometimes I'll show a customer a couple of products, and they seem sort of doubtful, in which case I excuse myself to give her the privacy to decide for herself whether she wants those products or not. It's a real pity we don't work on commission.
But it's funny to me that being a successful salesperson is a simple matter of liking the people you interact with. That wisdom probably comes from the same place as, "do what you love, and the money will follow."
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Do you like Colin Firth?
I was watching my favorite show, “30 Rock,” the other day, and the episode had to do with Liz Lemon, the highly successful 37-year-old single television writer, trying to impress an adoption agency so she could bring home a baby. She dresses in a terrible soccer mom outfit even Oprah would laugh at, and pleads with her staff to “act normal” while the agent comes to NBC. As she reflects on what her home says about her, she says, “I wonder if I should hide my Colin Firth movies. Maybe they would consider that pornography?’
And it hit me like a ton of bricks—I’m more like Liz Lemon than I thought. I had always looked up to her character, who gets cornflakes in her hair and passes time at galas by trying to eat as much free food as possible. But this was spooky, and I began to think—is there a Colin Firth type?
My crush on Colin Firth is a recent development; the only movies I have seen him in are “Bridget Jones’ Diary” and “Love Actually.” (Those are two fabulous romantic comedies in a genre that is usually lacking—if you were embarrassed by “Confessions of a Shopaholic,” raise your hand.) In both movies, he is supposed to be the anti-charming, awkward guy—in “Bridget Jones’ Diary,” he actually manages to scare the main character off because he’s so depressing. But it works for him well, I love actors and actresses who can make you laugh without ever cracking a smile or doing anything big and loud. Watch him bumble through the Portuguese language in “Love Actually” and tell me you’re not in love.
I like Colin Firth so much I have actually contemplated what I’d do if he ever walked into my store (at my health food store, we get a lot of celebrities). I envision that I’d ask him to sign part of my body, as if he were Derek Jeter or something, but probably I’d just stare a lot.
Firth’s life is interesting—his parents are professors, his grandparents were missionaries, and he spent part of his childhood in Nigeria. He speaks out politically for people who are being taken advantage of in third-world countries. And in an interesting gender role reversal, he’s married to an Italian film director and producer. She’s the brains and he’s the beauty.
Anyway, long story short, I think there is a Colin Firth type. Look at this picture of the actor getting coffee dumped on him. He posed for this photo to draw attention to the issue of unconscionable trade practices. But really, c'mon--it's a wet t-shirt photo, only with coffee. That's hilarious to women who grew up hanging out in coffee shops. Scroll down a little, and check out all the comments that have been posted by women, and you'll see that there is indeed a Colin Firth type. Firth is to bookish women what Princess Leia is to tech-geek men. The best thing is that none of the women seem to understand or care about the political content of the photo.
Well, how about this--if Firth shows up at my place of work, I'll tape a bag of fair-trade coffee to my body, and have him sign that?
And it hit me like a ton of bricks—I’m more like Liz Lemon than I thought. I had always looked up to her character, who gets cornflakes in her hair and passes time at galas by trying to eat as much free food as possible. But this was spooky, and I began to think—is there a Colin Firth type?
My crush on Colin Firth is a recent development; the only movies I have seen him in are “Bridget Jones’ Diary” and “Love Actually.” (Those are two fabulous romantic comedies in a genre that is usually lacking—if you were embarrassed by “Confessions of a Shopaholic,” raise your hand.) In both movies, he is supposed to be the anti-charming, awkward guy—in “Bridget Jones’ Diary,” he actually manages to scare the main character off because he’s so depressing. But it works for him well, I love actors and actresses who can make you laugh without ever cracking a smile or doing anything big and loud. Watch him bumble through the Portuguese language in “Love Actually” and tell me you’re not in love.
I like Colin Firth so much I have actually contemplated what I’d do if he ever walked into my store (at my health food store, we get a lot of celebrities). I envision that I’d ask him to sign part of my body, as if he were Derek Jeter or something, but probably I’d just stare a lot.
Firth’s life is interesting—his parents are professors, his grandparents were missionaries, and he spent part of his childhood in Nigeria. He speaks out politically for people who are being taken advantage of in third-world countries. And in an interesting gender role reversal, he’s married to an Italian film director and producer. She’s the brains and he’s the beauty.
Anyway, long story short, I think there is a Colin Firth type. Look at this picture of the actor getting coffee dumped on him. He posed for this photo to draw attention to the issue of unconscionable trade practices. But really, c'mon--it's a wet t-shirt photo, only with coffee. That's hilarious to women who grew up hanging out in coffee shops. Scroll down a little, and check out all the comments that have been posted by women, and you'll see that there is indeed a Colin Firth type. Firth is to bookish women what Princess Leia is to tech-geek men. The best thing is that none of the women seem to understand or care about the political content of the photo.
Well, how about this--if Firth shows up at my place of work, I'll tape a bag of fair-trade coffee to my body, and have him sign that?
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Kindergarten People
As many of you know, I recently began a credential program at Cal State L.A. to become a special ed teacher. As part of my first class, we must observe actual K-12 classrooms for 45 hours before the quarter's up.
I signed on with a kindergarten class near my home, and I also got suckered into being a teacher's assistant rather than "observer," so they're getting 30 hours of hard labor from me for free. Today was my fourth session with the class, and let me tell you--kindergartners are a knock out. A lot of you who have children may remember this from when your own were five, but the last time I was around such small children I was a babysitting teenager, and much more interested in teenage affairs rather than light-up sneakers.
There's one kid who cracks me up, Lucas, I haven't gotten much of a chance to talk to him, but I like him because he's just so well-behaved. The teacher assigns a worksheet and he gets right to it, no dilly-dallying at all. Today the kids were coloring in jaguars, and all the other kids were topping each other--"My jaguar has a pink jeweled crown and lives in a purple forest," "My jaguar is blue with silver machine claws," and Lucas sat there quietly and colored in an orange jaguar, living in a forest of brown tree trunks and green leaves. It's not that he's shy or maladjusted--he gets along with the other kids well and seems perfectly happy--it's just that he doesn't carry the normal ego trappings of a regular five year old. It's like he's just waiting to get to college so he can really show us what he's about. At lunch--this is the image that sticks in my mind--I watched all the kids picking at their lasagna, throwing bits of bread at each other, whacking each other, yelling at each other. Teachers surrounding them, directing them back to their seats, telling them to eat their apple slices. In the middle of the maelstrom sat Lucas, staring into space, diligently eating a seaweed (seaweed!) snack that had been prepared by his parents. I could just see his little mind working...I think it was saying,"Look at these idiots around me. Where did I leave that copy of the New York Times?" Probably the future of green technology right there.
Another girl, Jerlyn, is great because she has style that would have made her part of Oscar Wilde's inner circle. She says everything in a dramatic voice and already seems to have developed a sense of comic timing. We were talking about Halloween costumes a couple of weeks ago, and at first she told me hers was a secret. But she told me she would give me clues. "Well, she's very beautiful, she's very rich, and she flies all over the world." Is it Paris Hilton? I thought. "What is it? A princess?" I asked. "Nooo," she said,"a fairy." I guess fairies are rich in her world. Today, a few of us were looking at Myles' jaguar picture, and I commented that I liked the colors he had used a lot--bright tomato orange and turquoise. "Those are rock and roll colors," said Jerlyn."Do you want to know why he used those colors?" she asked. "Why?" "Because this" she said as she held up his drawing,"is a piece of rock and roll."
This is a fabulously fun time, so long as they don't have sharp objects.
I signed on with a kindergarten class near my home, and I also got suckered into being a teacher's assistant rather than "observer," so they're getting 30 hours of hard labor from me for free. Today was my fourth session with the class, and let me tell you--kindergartners are a knock out. A lot of you who have children may remember this from when your own were five, but the last time I was around such small children I was a babysitting teenager, and much more interested in teenage affairs rather than light-up sneakers.
There's one kid who cracks me up, Lucas, I haven't gotten much of a chance to talk to him, but I like him because he's just so well-behaved. The teacher assigns a worksheet and he gets right to it, no dilly-dallying at all. Today the kids were coloring in jaguars, and all the other kids were topping each other--"My jaguar has a pink jeweled crown and lives in a purple forest," "My jaguar is blue with silver machine claws," and Lucas sat there quietly and colored in an orange jaguar, living in a forest of brown tree trunks and green leaves. It's not that he's shy or maladjusted--he gets along with the other kids well and seems perfectly happy--it's just that he doesn't carry the normal ego trappings of a regular five year old. It's like he's just waiting to get to college so he can really show us what he's about. At lunch--this is the image that sticks in my mind--I watched all the kids picking at their lasagna, throwing bits of bread at each other, whacking each other, yelling at each other. Teachers surrounding them, directing them back to their seats, telling them to eat their apple slices. In the middle of the maelstrom sat Lucas, staring into space, diligently eating a seaweed (seaweed!) snack that had been prepared by his parents. I could just see his little mind working...I think it was saying,"Look at these idiots around me. Where did I leave that copy of the New York Times?" Probably the future of green technology right there.
Another girl, Jerlyn, is great because she has style that would have made her part of Oscar Wilde's inner circle. She says everything in a dramatic voice and already seems to have developed a sense of comic timing. We were talking about Halloween costumes a couple of weeks ago, and at first she told me hers was a secret. But she told me she would give me clues. "Well, she's very beautiful, she's very rich, and she flies all over the world." Is it Paris Hilton? I thought. "What is it? A princess?" I asked. "Nooo," she said,"a fairy." I guess fairies are rich in her world. Today, a few of us were looking at Myles' jaguar picture, and I commented that I liked the colors he had used a lot--bright tomato orange and turquoise. "Those are rock and roll colors," said Jerlyn."Do you want to know why he used those colors?" she asked. "Why?" "Because this" she said as she held up his drawing,"is a piece of rock and roll."
This is a fabulously fun time, so long as they don't have sharp objects.
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