The Reason for the Season

Do you know what season has begun? No, not baseball season--I don't fall for any of that malarkey. And not half-off-Valentine's-candy season either, although you're getting warmer.

It's easter candy season!!



More specifically, it's Cadbury Creme Egg season. Mmmmm, choco-ovo perfection. And there's nothing quite as cute as my cat attacking one of those little plush, clucking Cadbury bunny toys. What a sight to see. (I'll try my best to get some photo journalistic evidence of the preceding statement up here in the next few weeks.)

Coming soon: The Reason for the Season, part 2--Cadbury Mini Eggs. Oh, drool.

(Editor's note: For those of you who care to know, this post was typed in its entirety by using my new skill-in-training: touch-typing. No peeking! And it only took about 20 minutes to type.)

Shared User Pre-Engine Router Compressed Option Operating Library

Think you know what stuff means? I'll bet you didn't kow that STUFF means Structured Turbo Unified Floppy Format. If you did, then there's something terribly wrong about you. Or terribly right--I can't decide which.

Acronyms are the third coolest word thingies, after palindromes and anagrams.

Maybe this is why Rhonda's always encouraging me to go to a meeting of the Palo Alto Scrabble Club. Someday, Rhonda, someday.

My .0005 Minutes of Fame-ish

This is great: in the midst of the Paris Hilton/T-Mobile/phone book hacking scandal, the internet was ripe with curious onlookers who wanted to get our--I mean, their--grubby little paws on the private phone numbers of Ashlee Simpson, Fred Durst, Eminen, Lindsy Lohan and the like. So when many of these people searched for "Paris Hilton contacts," as in Paris Hilton's contact list, guess what they found?



See that? The last search result? Deborah's Den ended up on the search results for the Celebutant's latest shenanigans, based on my recent posts about Paris Hilton and about my new contact lenses--which, by the way, I am thuroughly enjoying. Honestly, it made my night.

Happy President's Day, Observed

Let's count 'em off!

George Washington 1789-97
John Adams 1797-1801
Thomas Jefferson 1801-09
James Madison 1809-17
James Monroe 1817-25
John Adams 1825-29
Andrew Jackson 1829-37
Martin Van Buren 1837-41
William Henry Harrison 1841
John Tyler 1841-45
James K. Polk 1845-49
Zachary Taylor 1849-50
Millard Fillmore 1850-53
Franklin Pierce 1853-57
James Buchanan 1857-61
Abraham Lincoln 1861-65
Andrew Johnson 1865-69
Ulysses S. Grant 1869-77
Rutherford B. Hayes 1877-81
James Garfield 1881
Chester Arthur 1881-85
Grover Cleveland 1885-89
Benjamin Harrison 1889-93
Grover Cleveland 1893-97
William McKinley 1897-1901
Theodore Roosevelt 1901-09
William H. Taft 1909-13
Woodrow Wilson 1913-21
Warren Harding 1921-23
Calvin Coolidge 1923-29
Herbert Hoover 1929-33
Franklin D. Roosevelt 1933-45
Harry Truman 1945-53
Dwight D. Eisenhower 1953-61
John F. Kennedy 1961-63
Lyndon Johnson 1963-69
Richard Nixon 1969-74
Gerald Ford 1974-77
Jimmy Carter 1977-81
Ronald Reagan 1981-89
George H.W. Bush 1989-93
William J. Clinton 1993-2001
George W. Bush 2001-present

But let us not forget...

Grade me! Evaluate me! I'm good, good, good and oh, so smart!

This is me basking in my own glory after I won the Valentine's Day essay contest at my gym.

See, at my gym, we exercise more than just our lats and glutes. We also exercise our thinking muscles.

Let there be light!

Ha! The weather fears me and my wrath!



Wise choice, weather. You've been a worthy adversary. Still, you're no match for my powerful skills of whining and complaining.

Rain, Rain, Go Away...or else I'll flip out

It has now been raining for 6 days straight. Curse you, foul weather! You don't own me!

Who says conceptual art is only ridiculous?

It can also be heart-warming! I dare you to read this without saying "Awwwwwwww" at least twice.

This doesn't take away from the fact that this whole "Gates" thing is absolutely crazy. It's OK, I know I'm not the intended audience, but conceptual art and I aren't usually the very best of friends. Stephen Colbert said it best.

Thought of the moment

Working in the publishing industry makes me especially partial to things like the Editor pant from Express, and songs like "Everyone Needs an Editor" by Mates of State.

All aboard the Cheechoo Train! Next stop: Moose Factory, Ontario

Last night I heard a rumour. A delicious, optimistic rumour which , sadly, turned out to be false. February through June will be just as sad and empty as October through Januray was.

Which causes me to wonder: what did the gentle people of Moose Factory, Ontario do with themselves before Jonathan Cheechoo?



Fun things, apparently. Just ask the Moose Factory Original Home Maker's Club.

Dio de los Valentinos

Happy Valentine's Day to the nicest, sweetest, thoughfulest, bestest, most dinner-makingest, bathroom-cleaningest, cat-feedingest, trash-taking-outest, flowers and chocolate deliveringest guy in the whole wide world!

We're gonna ride 'til there ain't no mortal goal

I highly enjoy thought-you-saids. Song lyrics are a great resource, and apprently Neil Diamond is a mumbler. I though it really was Reverend Blue Jeans...

The End Is Near, or, Why I Like Paris Hilton

The thing about Paris Hilton is that she is an organic celebrity. She is a celebrity because she is rich and famous. She is rich because her great-grandfather invented Hilton Hotels. She is famous because she very much wants to be famous. She has a TV show because she's a celebrity. She has a jewelry collection because she is a celebrity. Her dog has a book deal because she is a celebrity. How can you not love that?

When you're a celebrity due to your own actions and abilities, say an actor, musician or athlete, the things you do and say off the job tend to be highly scrutinized. In essence, you, as a celebrity, are representing your industry, gender, country, etc and are held to certain standards. Such as, don't get into drunken cat fights when the paprazzi are around, don't make out with strangers on the sidewalk outside of your favorite Chinese restaurant, do show up on time to your club's opening--you know, basic celebrity stuff.

That's the thing about Paris Hilton. She doesn't have to answer to anybody, yet her audience is as big as the planet. All she has to do to maintain her fanbase is proclaim that some things, people, or concepts are "hot," and occasionally do an interview in a fashion or special interest magazine. And giggle. A lot. And she doesn't even necessarily need to stand behind the alleged hotness of the thing, person, or concept in question. For example, voting is hot. Paris modeled one of P. Diddy's "Vote or Die" t-shirts for the 2004 presidential election's get out the vote movement focusing on MTV-ers (I really dislike those bangs. But what do I know about bangs?). Here's the fun part: she herself did not register to vote. Shortly after the news broke, Paris was being interviewed at one of the many social functions she attends. When asked about her failure to register, she sweetly replied "No comment," smiled, and giggled.

Now, that's just magical. Horribly, muscle-crampingly magical.

I'm not saying that Paris Hilton is an appropriate role model for young women, or that I would hire her to cat-sit, or that I long for her companionship. What I am saying, however, is that Paris Hilton is tremendous fun to watch. Some liken this fascination to that of watching a train wreck, others to that of a dirty magazine. To me, it's not about how ridiculous she is, or how pretty--though both of these aspects of her persona are undeniable. It's something about her eyes, narrowed to blackened slits of mascara, the pinky pink smirk of a smile, and the trembling little chihuahua clutched in her arm as poses and prances that keeps me coming back.

And for goodness sake, how cute is that little dog?

That Summer Feelin'

The weather's been pretty tame lately. Save for a few showers, and a few more in the forecast, it's been lovely. It makes me miss summer so dang much.

Sincere Apologies

First of all, I'd like to apologize to Arthur for the rather odiferous conditions of the office today. I suppose it's part of the package when you work in a dog-friendly office, but that doesn't make any easier to breath around these monsters today!

But they're really sorry. Look:



A forensic photo of the offending end:



In all honesty, Nanna is the most likely culprit. She had four suppers last night. That's right, four. Let's count:

1) Nanna's very own supper
2) Ozzy's very own supper, which she stole (he just didn't get up the stairs quick enough last night)
3) Miru's kitty supper (as evidenced by the empty kitty bowls which were lying at the bottom of the stairs when I got home last night, and not sitting in their natural habitat upon the kitty-feeding table.)
4) Milhouse's kitty supper (see #3 above)

I mean c'mon. Look at her. Is that the look of guilt, topped with indigestion or what?


For those of you who don't want to read about canine digestive issues, please read this. And then buy me the pink and red one.

In Your Neigh-Bor-Hood

Yesterday, as Max and I were strolling around our neighborhhod with the dogs, we had a couple of back-to-back encounters with really freindly--I mean really friendly--people. Not creepy-friendly or particularly talkative people, just the kind of people who who made us both say, "Gosh, I really like our neighborhood. People here are just so nice." Whether it involves well-timed smiles, considerate door-holding, baby-talking to a stranger's dog, or (most frequently) incredibly patient and helpful clerks and cashiers at our local restaurants, bars, corner markets and pet food stores, the feelings of friendly and nice abound.

And then today, I found this. The Muppets were right again. The Muppets are always right.

Except for that whole Christian Scientist thing.

3...2...1...Contacts!

I've done it, I've taken the eye wear plunge. I up and got contact lenses last weekend! And let me tell you, it's w-e-i-r-d. I've been wearing glasses since I was 18 months old. The adorable stories about little Deborah hiding her glasses in the backyard over and over until Mommy had to tie them to my head are endless. The socially-damning pictures of little Deborah playing AYSO soccer with the shatter-proof, spongy, elastic band-clad Rec Specs are, too, unfortunately endless. Even after 3 days, I barely recognize myself in the mirror (for those of you who are wondering: I spend an average of 4.6 hours in front of the mirror each day. Just looking. Admiring. Sometimes posing.).

The Top Three Things That I've Noticed That Are Different About Wearing Contacts As Opposed To Glasses:

1. I can see my nose. It's nice.
2. I can feel the wind/rain on the bridge of my nose.
3. When I apply mascara, I can see each individual lash. It's truly astonishing.

But the best part about wearing contacts, and 99% of the reason I got them, is that I can have lots and lots of sunglasses. I've been wearing the same (beautiful, wonderful, amazing) pair of prescription sunglasses for the last 4 years. As super fantastic as they are, variety is the spice of life. Especially when it comes to eye wear. Now, instead of just coveting and lusting after them, I can actually purchase J-Lo glasses, retro 70's plastic glasses, and super cool cat-eye specs with rhinestones artistically glued to the sides. Mmmmmm, rhinestones.

Mmmmmmm, books

Brian works hard for the money. So hard for it, honey. Brian works hard for the money, so we'd better treat him right.

Kah-li-for-ni-ah's Recent Addition

It's here! It's here! A proud day for us all it was. Yesterday, January 31, 2005, saw the official release of the California State Quarter. While the Governator took a break from his pectoral workout and groping to partake in a glorious ceremony, those of us who are nerdy enough to get exscited over our own state's quarter release readied our maps--be they fold-out, glass-covered, relief, or felt (collectible, one and all)--and prepared to carefully inspect our change at coffee bars, post offices, and record stores until the blessed day when we spy in our sweaty palms the face of Half Dome and the kindly, old grandpa-esque image of John Muir, glinting in sun.

Patriotic? Not in the conventional sense, no. Frequent flyer? You betcha!



However, when I am feeling particularly fond of this land of ours, this is usually part of my soundtrack.

I Should Have Guessed It Right Away

Today's blog post is dedicated to my friend Miriam.

And also to people who like songs about states that are actually about those states.

And also to Candian movies with admirable and hard-to-find soundtracks.

Do you think you're what they say you are?

The pictures that I took with my LC-A in Palm Springs and Joshua Tree have been developed. I thought I'd share a couple of the good ones. Like this one from the Santa Rosa State Park.



And this one from Joshua Tree.



While I'm sharing, listen to this. And for those of you who've been looking for very witty and expertly written blog by a dad/science geek/all around smart guy, check out Science Fiction Twin. I continuously catch myself laughing out loud at times and saying "awwwwww" at others.

Why are beautiful places always guarded by blood-sucking monsters?

I know you're all just dying to know how my birthday went, so I won't cause you anymore agony. On Friday, Dedi and I found a beautiful little trail called Morses Gulch Trail, just north of Stinson Beach. It's not terribly well known, an it was a Friday morning, so we had the whole place to ourselves. The dogs and I were fascinated with the salamanders and lizards, while Dedi was particularly taken aback by the huge and majestic walnut trees growing along the meadow near the trailhead. Once we reached the creek leading up to the waterfall, it was all over for Nanna. Have I mentioned that she's part river otter? Much fetching and splashing ensued.



The one drawback to our little waterfall paradise: ticks. Not something us city dwellin' folk are used to.

Next stop: Stinson Beach, part of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. Once we reached the water's edge, it was all over for Nanna. Have I mentioned that she's part sea otter? Much fetching and splashing ensued.



Saturday was the day of pretty feet. There's nothing like a peppermint soak, a gingerbread exfoliating scrub, a warm lotion massage, and a moisturizing chocolate wrap to make your feet smile.

Happy Birthday To Me

Yes, I know I'm jumping the gun. My actual birthday's not until Saturday. But I just love the festivities and celebratory atmosphere surrounding a birthday! Strike that: surrounding my birthday. We kicked it off yesterday with an all-office lunch at our local sushi bar. I even got to wear the official birthday boa and tiara. Talk about festive!



Tonight, my good ol' college pal Dedi is flying in from Portland to spend the weekend. Tomorrow, I get to indulge in what I think is the absolute best part of The Planning Shop's benefits package: you get your birthday off! Which means Dedi and I get to take the dogs hiking somewhere fun--and since it's a weekday, it won't be too overcrowded with weekenders. Perfect.

But Saturday is the absolute day of decadence: my good friend Miriam will join us for pedicures at this super cute spa down the street from my apartment, then we're off to Alcatraz! We simply must take advantage of this beautiful weather we've been having. Besides, history is neat!

And Hit the Road We Did!

Rhonda and I are back from Palm Springs, safe and sound. Everybody is happy to see us: our families and dogs, our coworkers--especially Brian, who's happy to see the HUGE folder full names and addresses of professors who need books!

Where to begin! Well, our booth was beautiful, and it took both of us a lot of caffeine to maintain our ladylike yet effervescent demeanors while talking to the throngs of professors who bombarded us, hungry for information on What Business Should I Start? and The Successful Business Plan. But we managed.



We were able to take a couple of field trips to see the beauty of the desert which surrounded us and enjoy the flora and fauna.



You really can't go wrong with a bush made of cheese. And that wasn't even the weirdest thing! The weirdest thing was that we saw Mickey Rooney--like seventeen times. All over the hotel, just walking around, getting in his limo, hanging out by the concierge...seriously! Mickey Rooney! After a couple of days, everything stared to look like Mickey Rooney. For instance, this rock is simply the spitting image of Mickey Rooney's head.



Of course, some of us might like to block it out forever, but Rhonda established a whole new fan base when she and University of Northern Colorado professor Joe Bell performed their heart-felt karaoke rendition of "Downtown." I have taken it upon myself as my personal task to make sure that this event is never forgotten.



Before our plane left to come home, we took a drive to Joshua Tree National Park. It was pretty neat, and the Joshua trees were certainly plentiful. Rhonda loved the sun and mild temperatures...



...while the desert environment really brought out my inner-rugged-explorer.

The Planning Shop Hits the Road

Rhonda and I are off for Palm Springs tomorrow! We're attending the United States Association of Small Business & Entrepreneurship and the Small Business Institute's annual conference. While I enjoy exhibiting our books at these shows, and I love meeting the professors who use our books (not to mention the probable addition of a snow globe to my ever-growing collection), the big news is that this year's conference social event is a karaoke party! For this, I am truly excited. I'll either do Elvis, Neil Diamond or Madonna. Notice that I said "do" this and not "sing." I'm not the best of singers, though I do love to punch out a good power ballad every now and again.

I wonder what Rhonda's going to sing?

Today's Sockdollager

In anticipation of MacWorld, my cat Milhouse is coming out of retirement from his long and illustrious career as a male model.



Oh, didn't I mention? He's ready for his close up. Then, he will kill you.

We can thank Windfield for bringing us this darb website.

2005 Back In Action

January is the month of birthdays. Think about for a moment: is there anyone YOU know who's having a birthday this month? Maybe a niece, a colleague, a friend or neighbor...I'm pretty sure that the traditional gifts for January birthdays are white gold, mail-order bacon and gift certificates to upscale sushi restaurants. Just in case you were wondering.

Holiday Hours

If you notice an unbearable absence of posts over the next 10 days or so, please forgive me. Blame it on the holidays. Blame it my upcoming trip to Chicago for my Grandma's 90th birthday celebration. Blame it on the remnants of moving into a new apartment, or the preparation needed for a proper Chrismukah-Festivus type of party, or Law & Order reruns. Or, blame it on the government (that's what I usually do.). But don't say I never gave you anything. Because I am giving you this. And, as previously promised, here is the playlist from Super Fantastic 2004. Enjoy!

I am Stretched on Your grave by Sinead O'Connor
Lovely Rita by The Beatles
The Dead Only Quickly by the Magnetic Fields
It's All Right to Cry by Rosey Grier
Government Center by Jonathan Richman
Exquisite Dead Guy by They Might Be Giants
He Needs Me by Shelley Duvall
Surfer Girl by Cub
My Wandering Days are Over by Belle & Sebastian
Everybody's Talkin' by Leonard Nimoy
Shattered by the Rolling Stones
Town & Country by Chris & Tad
Suzanne by Dan Bern
No Other Love by Perry Como
I Cried for You by Rosemary Clooney
Vincent Van Gogh by Jonathan Richman
Beast of Burden by the Rolling Stones
Kissing the Lipless by the Shins
Palisades Park by the Ramones (thanks, Dad!!)
Common People by William Shatner
It Could Have Been a Brilliant Career by Belle & Sebastian
A Hazy Shade of Winter by Simon & Garfunkel
Keep Your Lamp Trimmed and Burnin' by the Bad Livers
For You Blue by The Beatles
Sandra in Short Pants by Chris & Tad
Heaven is No Place for Me by Laura Cantrell

Question of the day

On what was this city built? You know the answer--come on, sing along!

Happy Holidays from The Planning Shop!

The Planning Shop held it's annual Holiday Lunch today. We enjoyed a fabulous feast at PF Chang's, including an order of The Great Wall of Chocolate for dessert. How could we not? True to form, our annual Holiday Party won't be held until sometime around March or April.

Lobster and Bacon Sandwich

Those are the four words I would use to describe Minneapolis, if I had to do so. The combination of vacation in Minneapolis and a gnarly case of strep throat have kept me from functioning properly for the last week. But you can't get rid of me that easily! I'm back, and swallowing no longer makes me cringe!



As you can tell from the picture, Minneapolis is cold. It actually snowed Sunday night! But apparently, it got much, much worse, as Ira sent me this the next day:



Screw that! I like boots and scarves and stuff as much as the next guy, but I also value my sanity which, as it turns out, requires the daytime temperature to be at least 15-20 degrees above freezing in order to operate as advertised.

The Gopher State

Tomorrow I'm off to Minnesota, The Land of 10,000 Lakes--supposedly, the state with more miles of coastline than any other state in the Union (excellent trivia tidbit)--to visit these lovely people. In a serendipitous merging of weekend vacation plans, we will be enjoying the company of this lovely person as well. Unfortunately, we won't be visiting the Spam Museum. Still, I would put money on us spending more than a healthy amount of time at the Mall of America, in all of it roller coaster and peak-holiday-shopping-season filled glory.

Pray for us.

A Boy and His Dog, with a little help from Google

This has got to be all over the web by now, so I'm sure many of you have seen it already. But for those of you who are starting to feel the winter blues, or for a certain friend who had a particularly awful night last night, or if you just need a good cry (the happy kind), here's the story of Mikey the dog and the boy who found him.

A glorious weekend in the Land of Port

I'm back from weekend getaway number one. Having spent the weekend visiting my old college chums, I've come to realize that perhaps seeing some people once every five years just isn't enough. It's funny, because they might look different, or maybe they've gotten married or bought a house, or they've got a dog you've never met, but they're absolutely the same person you remember from living in the dorms or late summer backyard bar-b-q's. Case in point: Adam.



Sure he may have less--much less--hair than I remember, but I'll be danged if that's not the exact same Adam as I've had the pleasure of knowing since college, day one, when we met in the cafeteria.

It's important for me to remember those times when the most important thing in my life was finishing that paper on the role of Minoan pottery in 19th century Swedish folklore; when home was half of an 8 ft. X 12 ft. room with 2 shoebox-sized closets and a bed that doubled as a couch with the help of bolstered cabinets attached to the wall; when dinner was a bowl of Coco Puffs and a big-grab sized bag of Cheetos, washed down with a 2-liter bottle of Diet Coke. As I slowly adopt the belief that my car runs better when the outside is clean, and I start to remember to get my oil changed on time, as I can now understand the value of delaying material gratification in order to assure financial security (sort of), and I feel a great deal less anger when the cops hassle the homeless guy sleeping in the park across the street from my apartment; as I become a bonafide adult, it's very important for me to remember that once upon a time, I wasn't.

Thanks to Adam, Liz, Galina, Dedi, and Shane for reminding me!

Music to bowl by

A few weeks ago when some friends and I went hyper bowling (the crazy style bowling-ball-sunk-into-a-pedestal version seen here, not the lame version), it was decided that we each needed a theme song. I chose I Get Around by The Beach Boys as my theme song because it seemed to improve my ball rolling skills (I was up against some very stiff competition and needed all the help I could get.). I didn't intend to keep the theme song for very long, but it continues to stick with me. Especially when I've just had my car washed.

World AIDS Day

First off all, I have an excuse. I haven't posted to Deborah's Den since last Wednesday because of Thanksgiving (duh) and three cardboard-box-filled days of moving. But I am now officially unpacked, officially done waiting for the phone guy to fix the jack, and officially less crazy. I promise.

Question: How many helpful guys does it take to move a dresser from my second floor apartment to the curb?



Answer: Three. Three helpful guys, and three cheers for Max, APV and Winfield!

I thought that World AIDS Day would be a good opportunity to blog about Klaus Nomi. Those of you who have heard of him know that he was a rising talent in the New York City new-wave-synth-pop club scene. You can hear his delectable mix of pop and opera right here. With friends and fans like David Bowie and the B-52's who knows what might have become of his falsetto-infused performance art, complete with German accent and beat. Tragically, he contracted AIDS--back in the early 1980's, when it was still called GRIDS--and died in 1983. Here is an interesting website which talks briefly about his long-lasting effect on popular culture. He shares the site with his countryman and fellow popular culture icon, Andre the Giant, so look for the Klaus Nomi info on the second half of the page.

Here, I got you this website.

There is so much cool stuff on the internet. There's even more useless stuff, to be sure, but for someone who likes true crime and forensic dramas, for someone who collects snowglobes and miniature landmarks, for some who, when asked about the current administration, thinks not of GW, but of President Bartlett, the internet is a glistening gold mine of tasty nuggets. And there are wonderfully ludicrous tidbits around every corner (case in point, the North Pole Web Cam.). Here is another great example of the overflowing bounty of stuff and things harvested from the web that is world wide: a photo essay of celebrity mug shots. Be sure to look at all 17 of them--the only really sad one is the one of Michael Lookinland.

Marquee Maddness

I just got my film back, so here are a couple of LC-A shots from San Antonio and beyond.



There's nothing quite like a Greyhound Bus station. Endless photographic possibilities.


I'm not much of a Pops fan, but I do love a good marquee.



Even though you can't see the actual lettering on the Mission Thrift marquee, I love how the whole structure appears to be on fire. Disco inferno!

While sitting in traffic

There's nothing like a 40GB iPod on shuffle song mode to get you through your morning commute. This little gem, which I had all but forgotten about, came on during the ever-present Marsh Road backup, and has been flowing pleasantly through my head ever since.

National SFD Day

I forgot to mention that today is National Scarves for Dogs Day.





I swear, she hates me. And rightly so.

Festive Optics

A shot from Halloween. Rhonda and I attended a cocktail party at the rotunda at city hall in San Francisco, sponsored by the Executive MBA Council. This was the social event for the conference we attended that weekend. Sporting tiara's and Rhonda's red and purple boa, we were the only two out of the whole 400 person group in costume!

Home again

My super cool dad came through big time, and emailed this mp3 to me. One more change to the holiday cd mix playlist never hurt anybody.

Below: A peek inside my Entre Ed Forum experience. It was a modest conference so no fancy, flashy, in-line booths. A nice table with our books and brochures, and my lap top to demo the Electronic Worksheets and PowerPoint.



It was a nice conference. Small and focused, with many determined and passionate people--the entrepreneurs of tomorrow are in good hands!

Saturday in San Antonio

Wow, what a neat city! The people here seem very friendly and willing to point me in the direction of their many squashed-penny machines, and the downtown area is cute and filled to the brim with tacky souvenirs (is there any other kind?).



This is me, remembering the Alamo.


In HemisFair Park, I found The Tower of the Americas, a distant relative of the Space Needle. The park and tower were built for the 1968 World's Fair. Now, the gift shop is locked up. But from the top of the tower, I could see many parking lots and hotels, and a freeway. And buildings.



This giant head sculpture was near the entrance to HemisFair Park. Hooray for giant head sculptures!



Yes, I did come here to work. On that note, I'm off to the booth. Y'all come back now, ya hear?

Deep in the heart of Texas

Well, in a few hours I'll be on my way to San Antonio, Texas for the 22nd Annual Entrepreneurship Education Forum (this year's theme: Fiesta Entrepreneurship!). I've got high hopes for this conference; there are lots of sessions and events involving local entrepreneurs. It's good to mix up the learning, lectures, and product/materials examinations with real people and conversations about their experiences.

This will be my first out-of-town conference since I got my new digital camera, so expect plenty of action packed updates!

For the Love of Bowling. And Hats.

Do you ever think about what you would like your funeral to be like? How about your obituary? My friend, Miriam, posted a bulletin asking a bunch of her friends what song they would like to have played at their funerals. The answers ranged from sweet ("Perfect Day" by Lou Reed) to unavoidably cheesy ("Another One Bites the Dust" by Queen) to absolutely perfectly fitting ("Don't Stop Believing" by Journey).

Sure, I think about my obituary, my legacy, what I want to leave behind to my friends and family. In what way do I live my life so that the space created by my eventual passing will reflect the true meaning of me? I aspire to this obituary from yesterday's Palo Alto Daily News:

"Michael Fau, a native of Redwood City who lived there his entire life, has died at the age of 55. Born April 28, 1949, Fau loved bowling and hats."

It goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway) that I've lived in a number of places, and plan to live in many more, would never aspire to live in Redwood City, and intend to live well past the age of 55. But how simple. How eloquent. How meaningful and admirable and perfect. He loved bowling, and he loved hats.

Maybe I'll request that my obituary be a haiku.

Deborah Kaye has passed.
She loved her dogs and Scrabble.
We'll miss her muchly.

Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment, or How My Obsessive Quest For A Song By The Ramones Lead To Many, Many Pop-Ups.

It was last night. I was looking for a song on the internet, so I went to iTunes. I wanted to download The Ramones' cover of Palisades Park. But the song wasn't on iTunes. They had about 250 songs by The Ramones, so it seemed as though the entire discography was available, but no Palisades Park. I was darn near positive that the song was on the album Ramones Mania, because that was the only Ramones album I had in high school (being the greatest hits type of music listener that was at age 15), and I had remembered listing to this song in high school. But the absence of the song from the iTunes offerings caused me to think twice. Three times, actually. You see, I embraced iTunes and the Music Store so quickly and so fully that I now tend to trust iTunes before I trust my own memory. Sure, I remember listening to The Ramones sing Palisades Park with my old high school friend Gill. Sure, I remember the super quick beat behind the carnival-themed bridge between verses. Sure I do...don't I? Well, maybe I'm mistaken, if Apple doesn't have it how can it exist? Don't worry, I haven't fully resigned my soul and free will to the Man. I called Gill, who now lives in Boulder, Colorado (the centennial state), to verify the existence of this song; to sort of act as a witness that I wasn't an absolute fruit loop. So I was half right. The Ramones did indeed release a cover of Palisades Park, but it was on the album called Brain Drain, which, as luck would have it, is not included in iTunes' Ramones repertoire. So I wasn't going to be able to download the song, but at least I wasn't crazy!

By now, I was on a mission. Having proven the existence of the song, I would now own the song. I would find an mp3 of the song, pay for the song, and download it to my precious, still-new, cute little computer. But it had to be an mp3, or at least not a Real Audio file. I've been burned by Real; the songs I bought from them wreaked major havoc on my iTunes, iPod, and CD-burning lifestyle. Big time. So I googled and clicked on links googled some more, trying to find a site on which I could BUY the song. Yes, pay real American dollars (or at least enter my credit card number). I wasn't looking for file sharing for free music, I just wanted--nay, needed--this song.

And then I made a really bad decision.

I clicked my frenzied little way to a Russian mp3-selling website that claimed to have the song--my song. Of course, I didn't get the song there, but I did get a freaking ton of spyware, adware, datamining-ware, and crapware installed on my innocent little computer. It's taken me a good 3 or 4 hours, as well as the downloading and installing of an additional ad-ware busting application (Spybot S&D just couldn't get all of them!), but I think (I hope!) I've finally gotten rid of the last of the intrusive pop-up generating programs. Holy crap, what a mess I made. What a baaaaaaaaaaaad decision.

It's not simply about me being obsessive. I mean, sure that's part of it, but I have a genuine need for this song. This year, I'm, er, reappropriating my friend Julie's annual holiday gift-giving idea: I've created a mix CD to distribute to my family, friends and well-wishers. A very special, thoroughly thought-out, emotion-filled, and super fantastic mix CD! And it had a space reserved on it for Palisades Park, written by one Mr. Charles Barris--former host of The Gong Show, and author of Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, which became one of the best movies ever. You can plainly see why this song had to be included on the mix CD. But sadly, today was my deadline to stop futzing with the playlist and track order and start designing labels and jewel case inserts (last year's holiday mix CD lost out to laziness and procrastination).

Long story short: Obsessive quest. Bad decision. Lots of pop-ups.

I'll post the super fantastic holiday mix CD playlist here after I've given them out--don't want to ruin the surprise.

13 days...and counting

For those of you awaiting the DVD release of the first season of one of THE best TV shows ever made (no, not Sabrina, the Teenage Witch--although Melissa Joan Hart is right up there among my favorites, the series has yet to be released on DVD. But perhaps this is something we can change...), you'll be pleased to know that less than 2 weeks time must pass before Home Movies Season One ships. My paper chain grows shorter each day.



I love this shot. Me and my trusty LC-A, tinting the world pink. Or green. Or whichever color we dang well please. Just try and stop us! We'll smear peanut butter on your car windows.

Ah, the splendor: Globes of Snow

I'm running out of space for them on my desk, so this configuration may soon change, but here's a look at the current snow globe collection.



Of course, the prized Fargo globe.

If I could capture this scene, make it tiny and plastic, and put it in a snow globe, you know I would: Nanna gives Brian some tail.

Isn't it s a lovely office? Seaport Green to some, Maalox Green to others.

And that's all I have to say about that.

It's been a blog day's night

Wow, I can't believe I've let my blog go for this long! I could blame it on the fact that I've been getting over a cold for the last week. Or that I've been very busy at work. Or plenty of other things. But I won't, because I'm a responsibility taker. My blog-less week has been of my own doing--or rather, my own lack of doing.

But it's not like I've been doing nothing. The Planning Shop has been buzzing all week! We've been working on our editorial calendar, which can be excrutiating. We're a small group of people with huge ambitions, so the actual planning process is always tough. Tough and necessary. We always work our way through the process and come out of it stronger, more motivated and more focused that before. It's therapeutic.

I've also been preparing for 2 conferences that I'll be attending in the next couple of weeks. The Executive MBA Council is holding its 2004 annual conference in San Francisco this weekend, and Rhonda and I will be there. It's a fantastic opportunity to meet many of the professors who teach classes using our books, and to hear about their experiences first hand. Also, it gives me a great opportunity to do some market research: find out what's missing from our customers' curriculum, what they would like to see more of, things like that. I think it's really important to remember who your customers are, and to make the time to speak with them. Even more important: listen to them when they speak. If you're fortunate enough to have access to the people who support your company, and they're considerate enough to share their thoughts and opinions with you, the worst mistake you can make is to take that for granted. Attending entrepreneurship educators' conferences allows me to do my job well and to serve my customers in the most appropriate and effective manner. Plus, I get to travel. Next month, I'm headed to San Antonio, TX for the Consortium for Entrepreneurship Education's annual forum. Oh, and there will some Alamo to be had, as well.

Rhonda knows all about the fringe travel benefits like the Alamo. When you spend a few days in a different city, you often get to see things like the Space Needle or the John Hancock Building...or an alligator. Sure, there may be time for sight-seeing in between speeches (if you're Rhonda) or educational sessions (if you're Deborah), but traveling is tough and tiring and time consuming. And sometimes you miss out wonderful things that happen back home. Rhonda experienced this loss first hand this past Monday when she was giving a keynote speech in Jackson, MS. Sure, she may have had the opportunity to visit The Eudora Welty House, but she missed out on the arrival and inaugural playing of my Ethel Merman Disco Album. Poor Rhonda!

Please keep Marge away from extreme temperatures and out of direct sunlight, don't cha know!

It's here, it's finally here! The Fargo snowglobe that I won in an eBay auction 2 weeks ago is here and sitting on my desk for all to enjoy. Well, at least for me to enjoy. And I'm pretty sure that Brian is enjoying it as well. You can read more about this particular obsession here.

A Day in the Life of The Planning Shop, Part 1

Who among us hasn't wondered what happens behind the scenes at The Planning Shop? To quench your collective thirst for knowledge, please enjoy the following photographic representation of a typical-ish day at The Planning Shop (granted, this was last week when the weather was still stellar.):



This is our beautiful building in downtown Palo Alto. The changing colors of the ivy is amazing; no picture could do it justice. Throughout the day, we get 2 kinds of visitors: the kind who bring boxes and take boxes away, and the kind who ask, "Is this the Chamber of Commerce?" It was once the Chamber of Commerce, but hasn't been for a while. This is now the Chamber of Commerce. Between the people asking for maps, the people thinking they're arriving at a meeting, and the random crazy person, sometimes it makes me want to keep the front door closed. But the sunlight and fresh air are totally worth the interruptions.



Hunter-gatherers, each and every one of us. At approximately 4:00 pm, everyday, one of us will walk the block and a half to Long's to procure chocolate and diet soda for everyone. Nanna likes to come along, of course, especially when the street is ripe with squirels. And lately, it's been super ripe.

I'll post part 2 eventually. I can't say when, but I can say with some amount of certainty that it will feature our fax machine, my snowglobe collection, the halloween decorations, and Arthur's famous pig-in-a-pencil-gripper sculpture. So don't touch that dial!

The last two weeks before daylight savings time ends

Well, after what seemed like a year-long summer in San Francisco, the yucky weather has arrived. It started raining today, and it isn't supposed to stop for at least a couple of weeks. Bleh! And come Halloween, there will be even less light in which we can attempt to enjoy being outside. Aw, nuts.

Of course, just as the it starts to rain, I got some pictures back from last weekend, during which we drove the new convertible across the Golden Gate Bridge and up into the hills by Stinson Beach. So now, as I glance out the window at the darkened and overcast sky, I can turn fondly to my blog for comforting images of dogs and people frolicking, and of massive landmarks shining in the sun against a brilliant blue sky...and you can, too!




Ah, the glory and majesty of the Golden Gate!



Ah, the glory and majesty of Ozzy's head sticking out of the convertible roof.

The new kid on the block

Mmmm, toasty...they got a pepper bar! (If you never saw that wonderful commercial, you can play it in this article. Wonderful.)

Safety Fashion

When Ozzy rides in the convertible, he needs to protect his poor little eyes from rocks and debris and what not. Hence the ultimate cuteness ahead:

I'm a travelin' man...er, lady...

Two of my best friends moved to Minneapolis, MN last month. Yes, I'm heartbroken. Yes, I'm so totally lonely. And yes, when I go visit them, you'd better beleive I'll be stopping here.

My alternate personality gets no respect

Two things have been bugging me all day. The first was learning that Rodney Dangerfield died yesterday (also, learning that he was born Jacob Cohen was mildly off-putting). The really strange thing, though, is that in this article about Mr. Dangerfield's passing, there's a quote from Teller of Penn & Teller. That's just not right.

The other thing that's been bugging me all day is the whole Chris Gaines thing. What was Garth Brooks thinking? I mean, come on now. A soul patch? Seriously.

One thing that so totally has not been bugging me today: "Has Been," William Shatner's new album. But it's been buggin the hell out of Rhonda, I tell you what!

Someone's in the kitchen

I don't cook much. I like to bake, but not so much with the cooking. That's why it was a super big deal when Leor and I cooked dinner last night for 5 members of our familes (his folks, my folks, and my brother Paul who was in town from Brooklyn to watch the A's lose.). Among other things, we cooked this Wasabi Chicken, oh my lord it was tasty. So if you're feeling kitchen happy, and you're looking for an excuse to open the sake you got as a housewarming gift nearly a year ago, this may be the recipe for you!

Screw the wizard; let's get frogurt

So we went to see Bill Gates give a talk at the Computer History Museum this afternoon. Except for that our invitations neglected to mention that instead of actually seeing Bill Gates, we would be sitting a room down the hall from where Bill Gates would be speaking, and we would be watching him on a TV monitor. A black and white monitor, with bad focus. Feh!

After unsuccessfully trying to convince one of the Microsoft secret service guys that we should be in the other room, the one that actually had Bill Gates in it, we went out to the parking lot and vandalized all of the Prowlers and Ferraris. Then we went for frogurt to pacify Arthur who was beginning to cry.

We're off to see the wizard...