Waitin' On A Friend

It's been a slow week of blogging, I admit. Part of that is because I was on a business trip that had me doing a bit of running around, but it's mostly because I have little to say. Just one of those patches, I suppose. I never really stop and think about the volume of writing I do here. It's a fairly significant task to write something almost every day and be employed full time and own a house and maintain real, human relationships. So there's bound to be times (like now) when I'm rambling. Way it goes. Maybe some of you can leave a comment and give me some ideas on things to write about in the next week. Or ask me my opinion on something. Go ahead. That could be an interesting experiment - you dictate the content to me.

One more thing, by the way: I have a Hotmail email account which I never use and I have never given the email address to one single person or entity. Ever. In the last 3 days, I've gotten a deluge of email into it - all spam - and all addressing me as "Harry" and not Jeff. Doesn't say much about Microsoft's policing of spam. In fact, it doesn't say much of anything good about Microsoft. How else would any entity have received my Hotmail address? Shameful.

 

Minimum wage. This is a tough issue, right? For everyday liberals like me, it's not so tough, really. You look at the fact that in each of the last nine years, a minimum wage increase has been shot down by the administration, yet Senate has voted for raises for themselves in each of those years. That doesn't seem fair, does it? Minimum wage hasn't changed one cent since 1995 but Senate's had a raise every year? Think about your cost of living since 1995. Now think about it if you made $5.15 an hour.

Opponents of the increase say that enacting this would force small businesses to stop hiring entry-level employees. Sort of a weak argument and one that hasn't necessarily played out that way in the past. So tell me something. If you hadn't gotten a raise in nine years, how would that make you feel? It's stories like this that make me realize how lucky I am and how sad it makes me to read about some of these people who just can't get ahead, despite their efforts. Granted, some of the people making minimum wage probably deserve their paltry salary, just like some white-collar corporate types don't deserve what they make.

But my original point still hits home for me:

Senate: 9 raises in 9 years
Minimum wage: 0 for 9.

Think about that.

 

People Who Lead, Some Who Don't

Hey man, what's up?

As I continue to read about the amazing life of Harry Truman (now on page 436 of his bio), Time Magazine puts an older obsession of mine on its front cover this week. Two years ago I was knee-deep in not one, but two 800+ page biographies on Theodore Roosevelt, whose life story feels like incredible fiction, but it's not. A Republican, yes, but an amazing man who also did some very liberal-leaning things, such as creating and protecting America's beautiful national parks and resources. I walked right by his boyhood home this morning as I walked NYC streets on my way to work.....

 

Turning Over A New Tree

How dumb was my day yesterday? I had to get up at 5am to catch a 7am flight down to Atlanta, in order to connect to another flight at 10:30 to get to a much smaller city. So I get to the airport at 6:15 in a daze and I'm sitting on the plane at 6:40am. So far so good. At 8am, I'm still sitting on the plane in Boston because of weather delays in DC/NY and I'm thinking "well, it's cutting it close, but if we leave in the next 15 minutes, I should make it to my connecting flight." We're finally cleared for takeoff around 8:20. It's going to be real close.

We fly around the weather in DC/NY, which adds time and we touch ground in Atlanta at 10:25. This is where I start to wonder why - for ALL flights - they don't unload the plane from the front and the back instead of just the front. I've never understood this. I step off the plane, look up at the monitor......and see that my connecting flight departed 4 minutes prior. The next flight to that "much smaller city" is at 3pm and doesn't land until 4pm and my meeting is at 2. Look at some other options to nearby cities - nothing available. I'm screwed. I'll have to dial-in to the meeting, which I hate doing. By 11:10, just 30 minutes after I arrived from Boston, I'm sitting on a plane back to Boston.

Great day so far! Get up at 5am, fly to Atlanta at 7am, walk off the plane, then get on another one right back to where I came from. Very productive. My plane lands at 1:45 and I end up sitting on the floor at Gate 27 of Terminal A at Logan Airport dialed into this call. Of course, the meeting is held in a large conference room and I cannot hear half the people in attendance. I'm tired and bordering on frustrated. My contacts are drying out.

But a series of events recently have produced a self-inflicted vow to no longer get too stressed, upset or overly frustrated about things I just can't control. Weather. Airlines. Work. Barely discernable speaker phones in meetings. Hey, it happens. It just happens. It's not worth the stress. Trust me on that one. Really.

 

Took Ya Long Enough

bloglines
Originally uploaded by rustedrobot.

For those of you who haven't experimented with RSS yet, today's post will hopefully encourage you to give it a try. Many everyday or casual web users have probably heard of RSS, but then they get turned off at the prospect of actually using it, thinking it's too complicated or confusing to set up. It's not. It's SO not.

Here's the best way to describe it. You know how when you get an email, your inbox turns bold and the number of new emails you have appears next to it, like this:

Inbox (5)

Well, think of RSS as your email for your favorite websites. You tell the RSS "reader" what your favorite sites are, and when those sites get updated, the "reader" will let you know, like this:

ESPN - Major League Baseball (12)
Boston.com - Red Sox (3)
New York Times Business (14)
WWE Wrestling (3)

Almost everyone I know has a list of favorite websites that they have bookmarked which they refer to. Many of these people each day or each week simply scroll through their favorite websites, looking at each site every time. With RSS, you don't have to do that. RSS collects all those websites and puts them all into one central outlet for you. In the above example, you simply click on "Boston.com - Red Sox" and all the new stories posted to Boston.com about the Red Sox appear to the right. Now go and click on the picture I posted above to see an example. It's that easy.

I use Bloglinesas my RSS Reader for obvious reasons - in my eyes, it's the easiest and best RSS Reader out there and it's also owned by the company I work for. You "subscribe" to your favorite sites by simply clicking a button that Bloglines makes available. So if you're surfing a new site and you think you'd like to read it on a regular basis, you click "Subscribe with Bloglines" and that's it. Next time you log in to Bloglines, it will be there. Give it a try, you'll be amazed at how easy and streamlined it makes your surfing. It's also an invaluable tool for staying informed on work-related matters - press releases, news, etc.

Other: what a DAMN great piece of writing today on Lefsetz's blog. His site is fast becoming a favorite of mine.

 

The Bells (In Carolina) Ring No No No No No....

A cruise through this morning's Globe and other randomness:

• I knew bees were industrious and helpful for certain crops and all, but I had no idea that a) there's such a worsening shortage of some of the best "workers" and b) that beekeeping is such a serious business. This very interesting piece in this morning's paper provides interesting reading. I guess I always thought that beekeeping was just a hobby. I can tell you this much: I will never be a beekeeper, you can take that to the bank. Steph always has a good laugh about my reaction to bees. It's a combination of running, extreme fear and that dance that Elaine Benes did on Seinfeld.

• I may have to either watch or Tivo this tonight. It's probably no secret that I'm not exactly a fan of the current administration in Washington, D.C., so I'm very interested in seeing what Frontline's done with this. I do wish they'd devote some time to "the other side" just to see how they'd try to squirm their way out of some of the stuff that will come out of this, but oh well.

• I played hockey last night, so I ended up starting Game 7 of the Stanley Cup finals at about 10:30 pm via the DVR. By 12:15, the question was answered: the Carolina Hurricanes had won it. I'll give you one guess who I was cheering for: NOT the Carolina Hurricanes. In the end, I like both teams, but seeing Glen Wesley lift the cup over his head, that hurts just a little. He probably deserves it and he's probably a nice guy and all, but all I can ever think of when I see Glen Wesley is the gaping, wide open net he had in the first overtime of Game 1 of the 1990 Cup finals when he was with Boston - he missed it and the Bruins went on to lose in three overtimes. That image is burned in my mind forever.

• Cool to see Britt Daniel (from Spoon) write about his top 12 EMusic albums this morning. I couldn't agree more about Pavement's "Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain." In fact, we're kindred souls on the comment he makes about "Unfair." I distinctly remember playing that song over and over on many occasions.

• I guess I'm glad I'm not this crazy about the World Cup. Although, that USA-Italy game on Saturday did have my rapt attention.

 

I'm Going To Love You 'Till the End of Time

Near East Rice Pilaf
Originally uploaded by rustedrobot.

There aren't many things you can say you've been doing almost literally your entire life. You may go through phases of certain things, you may have picked something up ten years ago that feels like you've been doing it forever, but when you step back and think about it, there really aren't many things you can think of that have been a constant throughout life, other than (hopefully) family.

So a message to the people at Near East foods who put crack in the rice pilaf: keep it coming. I've been eating this stuff even since I can remember and I have never - not even once - gotten sick of it or taken time off from it. Ever. Even during the lean years of college, I would buy a box, make it for dinner and eat the whole thing and nothing else. I had it growing up, I had it in high school, in college, post-college and I think Steph and I have it once or twice a week. And I have no plans to ever stop eating it. How come I never get sick of this stuff?

Is there a certain food you've always eaten without fail? I don't mean a general food like "fruit," either. I'm talking about a specific food. Is there something you've eaten ever since you can remember and you just know you'll never stop?

(Near East better send me a check for this one)

 

That's How He Does It!

espn
Originally uploaded by rustedrobot.

I always wondered how Roger Federer rocketed to the top of the tennis world as fast as he did. Upon finding this headline on ESPN.com, it appears as if marijuana is the answer.

 

Stop, Hey What's That Sound?

Those of you who use Microsoft Outlook for email know the chime that dings when an email comes in. You've heard it a zillion times. On average, I'd say I receive between 150-200 emails per day at work and sometimes more, which means chimes go off around 750-1000 times per week, or 3-4 thousand times per month. Minus out the emails that come in at night (which are few) and, well, you get the picture. Lots of chiming.

Here's my point: if I'm brain-deep in a financial model in Excel (an occurence which seems to be happening more and more lately) I sometimes hear the chimes. If I'm putting together a term sheet or marking up a legal contract in Word, I sometimes hear the chimes. If I'm preparing a presentation using my least favorite application, PowerPoint, I sometimes hear the chimes. But when I go to check email - nothing has come in. Am I losing my mind? Or has the chime gotten such a hold of me because I hear it so much? Has it has become automatic in my brain? I even occasionally hear the chimes when I'm cooking dinner or reading a magazine.....and sometimes I swear I hear it in songs. Damn chime.

This is not so much different from our dehumidifier at home. When it's full, it lets us know with three quick beeps. I always joke with Steph when it goes off that it is the bane of our existence. We are slaves to the chimes that thing spits out. Now, lately, I swear to friggin' god I'm hearing the dehumidifier beeps, too and then when I go check it - it's fine - not even close to full. Then, even more bizarre, when it is actually going off, I cannot hear it. What the....? Does anyone else hear this stuff in their head?

.....and don't even get me started with the voices I hear.*

* Just kidding on that one.....

 

Freddie Get Ready, Rock Steady

Tonight after work I met Steph in one of the places we miss the most, Davis Square in Somerville, Mass. Both of us spent quite a few years living in that terrific area and we don't get back as much as we should, although we are attempting to remedy that with a couple of planned trips this month. Tonight we had a great dinner at The Burren, an Irish pub owned by some folks who came over from Ireland roughly ten years back. The Burren houses many great memories for me, none more than the dozens of Tarbox Ramblers shows I've seen there. They were pretty much the house band every Saturday night from 1998-2002 or so and it was a guaranteed good time, no matter what. I converted many friends from just a "passing interest" into Tarbox fiends at The Burren and I myself was exposed to them through another friend.

So tonight it was sweet to sit in a relatively quiet Burren, reflect just a little bit and have a simple but tasty dinner with my wife. Afterwards, we walked outside into what truly felt like the first real night of summer - balmy enough where we move just a little slower than usual, but cool enough where the comfort meter was right there at the red. I'm mixing words: it was a perfect night.

So onward we walked along the brick walkways of the square, towards my car to head on home when we heard, in the distance, the sound of a big band! You could hear the deep, deep tuba burping, some drums banging and as the volume elevated, signaling that we were getting closer, they emerged, walking around a corner in the distance on the bike path near the subway station. There were 9 or 10 of them and they were approaching us, blowing horns, flutes, playing banjos, drumming and then stopping and all singing in unison. It couldn't have been more obvious that these people were having the time of their lives.

Onlookers walked right along with them - children, people on bikes, elderly, professionals - and others ran up to snap pictures. Everyone had a smile on their face and the smiles on the faces of the people actually playing the music was just the best kind of virus you could ever hope to catch. The band itself was a mish-mash of the human race - middle aged women, young men, old men, heavy people, skinny people, you name it. It didn't matter what you looked like or what class you belonged to. The unit was bound together by two simple but important things: happiness and music. Those two things typically go hand-in-hand anyway.

So we stopped and smelled the roses. You really couldn't help but stop and take it in. They marched closer and closer, one of the women in the band joyously leg kicking with each blow of her horn and beat of a drum. They came to within three feet of Steph and I, who were standing at a tall chimney-like structure in the middle of the path, and they stopped for a breather. There was discussion about what song to play next, how they should all work on all turning-around at the same time and then one of them looked at us and said "parade practice!" I'm not really sure if they were actually practicing for a parade and I didn't care. As Steph said, it was the best thing she had seen in a month - and I concur.

After a "one...two.....three" they struck it up again, did a circle right around us and the structure, then made their way back down the path, kicking, skipping, singing and playing the hell out of their instruments. As the sound of the big band slowly inched away from us, hopefully to conquer someone's sadness or bad day, we headed back to the car and made our way home.

Welcome back, summer. Stay awhile, won't you?

 

I Need A Dumptruck Mama To Unload My Head

Random thoughts:

• The war of words between The New York Times and General Motors continues. If you remember, The Times published an op-ed last week that, among other things, labeled GM a "crack-dealer for America" in regards to its incentives to get the general public to buy more SUV's and then The Times went on to accuse GM of buying votes in Congress. No small matter. GM responded on its blog right away and now GM has gone public in detailing the events of trying to get a letter published in the New York Times telling their side of the story. You would think it's only fair, right? Alas, the two parties couldn't come to an agreement on the final wording of the letter. It basically came down to one single word, in fact: "rubbish." See the details as posted by GM's Brian Akre, including a fairly amusing exchange via email that I am really glad GM made available to the public. I love the internet.
  

• This morning's Boston Globe ran a story about the digitally remastered albums being released today by the '70s rock icons Boston. Their self-titled debut album, at the time, was the largest selling debut by any music act until Whitney Houston came along. Personally, I find much of Boston's music is a little like hitting "repeat" on the CD player - it kind of all sounds the same to me, with the glaring exception of the big hit "More Than A Feeling," which I believe to be one of the greatest "radio songs" of all time. Note I didn't say "greatest songs of all time." To me, there's a large chasm between a "radio song" and a "song." I don't know about you, but if I ever hear "More Than A Feeling" on the radio, I turn that bitch up. Loud. And I sing along fanatically, without a prayer of ever hitting the notes the Brad Delp hits. However, I do not own the song in any format and I don't believe I ever have. That, my friends, is a radio song. See the piece from this morning's Globe here, an entertaining back-and-forth riff between Globe music writers Sarah Rodman and Joan Anderman, debating the merits of Boston.

• I am so loving YouTube. Where else can you type in almost anything you want and get videos of it? I mean, who even knew that the Flying Burrito Brothers cut a video for "Older Guys?" My favorite part is the dude who pops out of the boat hatch for the "whooo-hooo-hooo" chorus, but the whole thing is a bit of a joy to watch. The Flying Burrito Brothers were a sadly overlooked entity. A few weeks ago, my left-coast friend Fort Miley blogged about this absolute gem from YouTube, which features R.E.M.'s first national television appearance on the David Letterman show, performing a song that was, according to bass player Mike Mills "too new to be named." The song later went on to be a little ditty called "South Central Rain (I'm Sorry)." I get such a kick out of Micheal Stipe in this video, all of 21 or 22, being all aloof sitting in the background while Letterman does a one-minute chat with the band before the song. YouTube makes me want to get out a buy a video camera and post some vids.

• Speaking of which, there's no shortage on the amount of bizarre videos you can find on YouTube, too. In fact, you could spend all damn day wondering what the world is really doing with their lives. One thing that really had me cracking up, though, was a young Sloan performing "The Good In Everyone" - complete with a large monkey and uncomfortable adults, all dancing together on what I can only imagine is some kind of Canadian variety show. Classic.
  

 

Come on now, nobody wants to download those two songs below and give me their opinion?

 

Well, You Can Try Sometimes.....

Ipod owners consistently make remarks about how the device has allowed them to truly re-discover their music collection. I am no different. Used to be that I'd have to stand at my CD racks (at one time, containing 1,500+ discs), cock my head to the side so I could read the CD spines, and pick something out. Sometimes there was a calming joy to such a search, most of the time it was a pain in the arse. Those days are long gone. I don't need to get into how much easier it is access a music library that large when you have it all on your computer and Ipod (and sufficiently backed up, of course).

One recent re-discovery brought me back yet again to the days of Tar Hut. Bob Andrews, one of music's true good guys and ex-manager of Uncle Tupelo (among others), had mailed me a CD of another St. Louis-based band called Nadine. Since Bob and I have very similar music tastes, he was pretty sure I'd enjoy it. At this point in the short life of our indie-label, we were probably at our high point. We were no longer going out of our way to find bands - they were seeking us, so we were getting a LOT of demos, most of which were being sent to Dave, as he seemed to truly enjoy listening to CD-after-CD-after-CD of band demos. My point is this: Nadine jumped out at me. The songwriting was strong, the singer had a distinct voice and the music was just........just good. We really wanted them on our label.

At the same time, the growing network of people I knew out in the western part of Massachusetts, specifically Northampton, seemed to be bearing more and more fruit with each passing week. I was getting demos from several very good Northampton-based bands, none better than The Figments, whose initial demos really had us salivating. I remember the very first thing that crossed my mind when I heard them: "this is the perfect combination between The Velvet Underground and Pavement." A strange comparison to make and others may disagree, but that's how I felt then and it's still how I feel today. Again, terrific songs, an incredibly distinct voice in singer Thane Thomsen and - even better - one of the members was Abraham Zapruder's grandson. Go ahead, click on that link. Do it.

Anyway, bottom line: we had fairly extensive discussions with both bands. And we wanted them both badly. But we got neither. Why? Well, I guess that's just the way it goes sometimes. We were busy pouring money into the bands already on the label, trying to move those records and we didn't feel like we could take on two more at the time. It was very difficult for us not to do (not doing either was particularly hard on me), but this is just two examples of many projects we wished we could have done. I'll save some of those for another time or let Leo and Dave have a crack at it.

In the meantime, enjoy my favorite songs from The Figments and Nadine:

Nadine: Dark Light
The Figments: Humbert

As usual, to download just right click on each link and "save as." I'd be really curious to hear your opinions about these songs, so please let me know your thoughts if you can. I still believe that both bands easily stand the test of time. The Figments still make music, Nadine broke up about a year or two ago.

Nadine - "Dark Light"

There's a darker light
That is shining on this street
Colored hair, kids and deadbeats
And that girl from the county's convinced that she's been reborn
And on cue a Buick of young men lays on the horn

Out the window, we're just sitting on those steps
We talk on the cordless, smoke GPC cigarettes
At one they got lost in the light of the afternoon
When that child-proof lighter hit the spoon

Dark Light shine on
Shine on through the city
Like the wave that's perfect and pretty
We all moved out, but have we moved on?
Darker light, shine on

There's a mailbox full of a stranger's unpaid bills
Strain of a culture where death equals standing still
And the best you can hope for is someone to call a friend
Someone who won't break apart
When it all starts to bend

Dark Light shine on
Shine on through the city
Like the wave that's perfect and pretty
We all moved out, but have we moved on?
Darker light, shine on

 

Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer

The United States should be proud of itself this morning. Last night, it took a butter knife, dipped it into some delicious freedom butter and spread that tasty freedom all over the body of Al Queda poo-bah Abu Musab al-Zarqawi. Strike up the band! Here's how I think it really happened, though: the White House actually thought they were bombing a gay marriage ceremony in Iraq. After all, it IS getting close to election time, so the folks who run the capitol have to trot out all the issues that got them elected in the first place. No better reason to hop back on the "no-gay marriage" thing, right? You didn't think it was coincidence that this is back in the news a few months before elections, did you?

Anyway, back to Iraq. Only when they sifted through all the destruction and burned all the rainbow stickers, somebody noticed al-Zarqawi's body. Strike up the band! Two birds with one stone! The war is over AND gay marriage is dead!!! Hoo-boy! Iran wants to talk now, too!

Seriously, now. This morning as we watched the various reactions to the news, the TV folks resurrected the name of Nick Berg, an American humanitarian who was beheaded by al-Zarqawi in Iraq back in 2004 - all of it very much at the forefront of the news. You'd expect Berg's father to be, as we American's like to say, TOTALLY PSYCHED that his son's murderer was now dead. After all, this is HIS SON! Any father with half a heart would want to hunt down AND KILL the person who killed their son, right?

Um, nope. Mr. Berg's comments about the news this morning were a very pleasant surprise. Here's a snippet:

"I have no sense of relief, just sadness that another human being had to die. As the poet John Donne said, any man's death diminishes me. It doesn't bring my son back and this will just bring a new cycle of revenge killings."

So there you go. I have no idea who John Donne is because I hate poetry, but Mr. Berg's comments are worthy of some kind of medal. The guy, despite his son being brutally murdered for little reason, fucking GETS IT. He gets it. What the hell is the point of all this?

Now, I know that if I ever met such a fate, even my own parents would probably want to exact the same kind of revenge that our military supposedly achieved last night (no worries, mom & dad, I have no trips to Iraq planned). Most parents probably would feel that way and I can't say how I'd feel myself, because I am not a parent. If there's anything that comes out of this, though, I hope that my own parents and as many other people as possible start thinking and reacting like Berg has.

And who cares if two women/men want to marry each other? Geezus.

 

Kick Out The Jams

Roasted Garlic & Onion Jam
Originally uploaded by rustedrobot.

I've been a longtime fan of Stonewall Kitchen, the York, Maine based food company that makes all kinds of obnoxiously delicious jams, marinades, sauces and other treats. In fact, one of the highlights of our trip to Portland, Maine on New Years Eve was stopping by their original retail store and spending time browsing through all savory goodness they had to offer. One of my very favorite Stonewall products is their Roasted Garlic & Onion Jam, which blends together the zest of garlic/onion and the sweetness of jam to perfection. It bears noting that you probably don't want to be spreading this on toast - it would be a little much, unless you're a truly devout garlic & onion person. I typically save it for other small snacks - for instance, I've been making crepes lately and trying to find a good anchor that would go nicely with this jam in a crepe. Some kind of mushroom would probably fit the bill nicely. It's best, though, spread on crackers with a little dab of cream cheese to go with it. Superb. Someday when I'm older and things are slowing down I'd love to work for these people. Mostly for the discount.

 

It's The Only Way To Live

I love cars. I don't know all that much about how they work and I certainly have no prayer in diagnosing or fixing problems with them. I'm just fascinated by all the shapes, colors and flavors out there. Even though I'm not really looking for a new car, I still stop at dealerships now and then, get out, and just have a look around. I love a nicely designed exterior. And I know I've said this before, but I really love interiors. Give me thousands of little lights and buttons inside. I don't even care if the buttons serve no function whatsoever - just put buttons and lights inside so at night when it's all lit up it looks like a friggin' airplane cockpit. Sweet.

Sitting here, I can't think of another product out there with such a wide swath of car choices than the ones that are available to the auto-buyer these days. This brings an entirely new set of problems to the car-buying process, which in my opinion remains one of the most ass-backwards processes in the history of capitalist nations. I mean, can you imagine walking into Best Buy and buying a couple of DVD's - you bring them up to the register and the cashier asks for $24.98 and you say "now, I know that your costs for these DVD's are $15.00. I understand you need to make a profit, so I'll give you $16.14 for these DVD's." OK, it's not a fair comparison, but you get the point.

Anyway, I still love cars, despite the fact that I hate traffic, slow drivers and I especially hate trying to find parking in a crowded lot. Come to think of it, if I'm driving, I pretty much hate all other drivers that are on the road concurrently with me. No offense. Perhaps I should seek help.

Regardless, I'm always burying myself in articles about the auto business, too, so I keep very up-to-date with the plight of GM and the various successes of companies like Toyota and Honda. My point today: another installment of "Why Blogs Can Change the World." Even the average person who stays in tune to the news knows the struggles of General Motors these days. Due to past history (say, 1975-2000), their products have been perceived as technologically inferior, prone to repair and second-rate when it comes to overall performance. The Japanese market, on the other hand, wins much praise for its forward-thinking, its flashy designs, its attention to fuel-conservation and its low pricing.

The truth, as always, falls somewhere in the middle and requires someone to actually make the effort to find it. As I write this, I'm thinking that the search business isn't all that different - the perception of my employer, Ask.com, is a lot like the perception of GM vs. international auto makers. Strange. Anyway, when GM started thier blog, I worried that it would be another useless corporate PR hack tool, a cut-and-paste for company press releases (newsflash: that's not a blog, folks). But you know what? It's not.

Take, for example, GM's response on its blog to a recent New York Times article where Steven Harris, GM's VP of Global Communications, takes the Times behind the woodshed for printing what GM claims was an erroneous and misleading article about GM's intentions in the marketplace, going so far as to call GM a "crack dealer" in regards to the amount of SUV's they're selling to Americans. Of course, NO auto company (GM, Toyota, etc) will ever pull back a car because it uses too much fuel. Come on. Last time I checked, responsibility will always be with the person who gets the keys and turns the ignition, not the person who sells the car. Now, it's no secret at all that automakers could be more responsible and energy conscious. But to say GM is the culprit is as single-minded and ignorant as it comes. Just go to any car dealership. So good for GM for standing up for itself. And yes, I know having the VP of Global Communications write a blog post feels a little like a PR move, but the blog post doesn't read that way and the NYT article deserved a response from such a source. The GM blog is written mostly by general employees, with the occasional senior executive chiming in, including Vice Chairman Bob Lutz, who basically runs the show. His posts are always an interesting read and there can be no argument that Lutz is passioniate about automobiles.

As for the product itself, I don't know. I drive a Toyota. I've rented a few GM cars on work trips and I've really liked them, but the true test of a car is if you still like it 3-5 years later and how often its been in the shop. I know from experience at Ask.com that it takes a lot of hard work and sweat to get people to understand and acknowledge that companies can (and do) change. The Ask Jeeves of six years ago is not even close to the Ask.com of today (in fact, see this piece on CNNMoney.com). It's much easier to make the Ask.com point to people, though - Ask.com doesn't cost $25,000 to use and you can show someone the progress we've made with a few simple mouse clicks on a monitor. Even then, it's extremely difficult to get the masses to understand how much we've changed and how much we've innovated in the search space.

Now imagine the mountains GM has to move to try and get people into their cars again! Would you take a $25,000 risk yet? Geezus. I don't envy them one bit. But something tells me they're not going away (ever) and some of the cars they're putting out there lately are indisputably compelling.

The list of cars I've owned, in order of acquisition:

1971 Chevrolet Chevelle
1985 Oldmobile Cutlass
1987 Subaru GL
1991 Dodge Colt
1965 Ford Galaxie
1994 Ford Taurus
2002 Toyota Camry

Care to divulge yours?

 

I Was Born In A Little Bitty Tar Hut, Part Whatever

The late Herb Belkin, friend of Tar Hut
Originally uploaded by rustedrobot.

One of the more interesting side stories of our reckless indie-label days was the guy pictured here - Herb Belkin. Mr. Belkin was a longtime record industry veteran, having done his time in the 1960s and 1970s as a lawyer, among other things, at both Capitol Records during its heyday and also at ABC Records when it existed. He also went on to head up Mobile Fidelity, a small outfit that made its mark in the record business by re-releasing famous albums in that gold CD format, which somehow had some kind of technology that made it sound better. Or something. I was never truly clear about it, myself, all I know is that true audiophiles loved the stuff.

Anyway, we made a connection with Herb through a friend of my dad, at precisely the time when we landed our distribution deal with an arm of Warner Brothers. We actually had some buzz - a feature story on the label in the Boston Phoenix, news blurbs in various industry rags like Billboard, etc etc. iThere was no better time to explore the landscape for private investment. We knew that Herb was very comfortably retired and living right on the ocean up in Camden, Maine, just a few hours drive north from Tar Hut HQ in Somerville, MA. So we called the guy. Why the hell not? Surely enough, whatever we said was enough to get him to meet with us in person at his house. Hot damn.

And so we took the roadshow north. Dave flew in from Chicago and the three of us hopped in a car and made the trek, first stopping at Leo's mother's house in Wells, ME, vacant at the time, which would be our base camp for the weekend. I'll truly never forget the next two days, which ended up being a combination of awe and a good bit of comedy to accompany it.

It was quite apparent pulling into Camden, ME that we had stumbled upon an affluent community, complete with large houses on beautiful tree-lined streets. Herb's house was one of them. Overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, the house was a multi-level beauty fit for an old record industry vet awash with old cash. I couldn't help but smile when Herb answered the door, a 60-something balding guy in raggedy shorts with a protruding gut and a big fat cigar hanging from his mouth. I probably wasn't that far off in terms of what I wore (I couldn't care less about such things back then), but I think Leo and Dave were decked out in their business casual attire - or maybe I'm remembering that wrong. We went out to a restaurant and had lunch with Herb, where everybody knew him, of course. Any why I'll never forget ordering blueberry soup is something that mystifies me to this day. He recommended it, so I got it. It sucked.

Regardless, I honestly don't remember much about the business end of the conversation, but it was relatively brief, maybe 45-60 minutes of telling him our story, our plan, everything. Of course, we brought him some CD's to sample, too. He waxed about things like the future of the business and technology in general and said some things that, in thinking about it seven years later, were pretty on target. At one point, I think Leo asked him point blank ,and in his very-skilled level of half-sarcasm, if he was going to just give us some money. He smiled and asked us to put a business plan together and send it to him for review. We still make the occasional joke about the Tar Hut business plan today.

The last half of the meeting was the most memorable. He took us on the tour of the Belkin estate, walking us through, up, over and down around the house. He took us up into his office upstairs and at that point as he closed the door, I do remember thinking as I looked out at the Atlantic Ocean that we had been making very sophomoric jokes on the ride up about what we would be required to, um, do with Herb in order to get him to fund us. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. Here's three dudes with a pile of CD's at this guy's mansion. Unreal. Anyway, we shot the shit for a few more minutes, then he let us pick out any vinyl album we wanted from his Mobile Fidelity Collection. I took the soundtrack to Anatomy of a Murder, performed by Duke Ellington. I forgot what Dave and Leo took.

The best part was when he showed us the indoor pool. It was fairly small, more like a lap pool, but hell, it was a pool located indoors, right? He started waxing poetic about some band from the 1970s that he had wanted Capitol to sign. He was convinced they would have been huge and that he and Eric Carmen from The Raspberries were both trying really hard to get the powers-that-be from Capitol on board. He left the room for a minute, came back and threw a cassette in the stereo. So we stood there, looking at the lap pool, overlooking the ocean in a room surrounded by sliding glass doors, and listened to a very outdated combination of Steely Dan and Journey. We all nodded, as if it were the best thing we'd ever heard in our entire lives. It was a classic moment - funny.

I really liked Herb. Not many old, rich and retired record business people would agree to meet with and take phone calls from dudes who had an indie label with 3 releases. But Herb did. He took time out of his day, which admittedly didn't appear to be overly busy, to meet with us and offer his guidance. It was truly memorable. That night, back at Leo's place in Wells, ME, was a night I'll always remember as one of the nights when I laughed the hardest I ever have in my life as we reviewed the events of the day and reverted back to our sophomoric comments and scenarios regarding Herb. But he was a totally cool cat.

He never ended up giving us any money, although I truly believe he did seriously consider it, if only for a few moments. I think, like the rest of the people in the business, he ended up holding onto his cash because the internet was starting to be a real wildcard - nobody knew where music was going. It can be argued that feeling remains the same today.

It was years later that we found out, not long after our meeting, maybe a year, that Herb had died while on a fishing trip in Alaska. The obit was in Billboard and a lot of other industry mags. Definitely sad. I do remember his wife being extraordinarily nice and he was also very close with his sons, who I believe were on the trip with him and whose pictures were all over his house.

Another memorable chapter indeed.