Elektra Decked

We just bought our first real grown-up piece of art. We have some pieces that we've inherited or otherwise aquired, but Paul really liked this piece by artist Lance Carlson. It's called "Elekta Decked." Paul immediately got the title, because of his familiarity with comic books, but it was lost on me. Apparently, the comic book character, Elektra, inspired by, but not to be confused with the Greek mythology character, Electra, was (in one version of the truth of the comic world) killed by a playing card.

It's hanging in the dining room, where is looks awsome. Paul and I always disagree over how to hang art. He always wants to hang it too high (ahem) but he won out on this piece because of a flaw in the paint on the wall left by a previous larger piece.

You can't really tell in the picture, but it's made from pieces of wire mesh. It's a sort of postmodern pop art, I guess, if I, with my limited knowledge of art theory, had to classify it, but it really compliments the classic modern tulip chairs we use in the the dining room.

Man, I wish I was rich.

Eddie "Edit" Stevenson

It seems that a lot of people have died lately. A lot of celebrities. Michael Jackson and Billy Mays shocked me, but the grief that anyone can feel for a celebrity they'd never met pales in comparison to the grief that those of us that worked day in and out with Edward A. Stevenson, chief editor at WAGA, feel since his passing on Saturday.

The overall sentiment I am hearing from my peers is appreciation that Eddie took a chance on them, and I fall into this category as well. Eddie hired me as a freelancer while I was still in college and had barely crossed the threshold of a newsroom. I don't know how he did it, but Eddie seemed to be able to recognize the ambition and dedication in people that working as a news editor requires. There were so many of us- Randy, Garret, Jorge, Johnathan, Matt.... me, that Eddie took a chance on and although there were a few misses (none of the afore mentioned), overall, we were a group of hard, dedicated workers that gelled together as a team. I've had several jobs since leaving WAGA, but no group of co-workers has ever touched the familial relationship that we had there. We were like siblings and Eddie, our father.

There was no doubt that Eddie loved us. He not only supported us in our jobs as we learned the ropes of the news business, but he also counseled us on personal issues and regularly took us out for drinks and to play pool after work. Eddie, who had no children of his own, loved us and nurtured us and when it was time for us to leave the nest, he sent us on our way, just as sure that we would be successes in our future endeavors as he was when he hired us.

Eddie was my boss for six years and not only did I learn the technical aspects of news production from him, but I also learned skills that have been invaluable since I have pursued other interests- namely, I learned to be laid-back. Eddie was never frazzled. Never shaken. Never gave in to the panic that can so easily take over when you've got thirty seconds left on your deadline and fifteen seconds of video left to cover. Eddie was always calm, even when producers and reporters were over his shoulder, watching as he made the final few cuts on a piece, literally seconds before it hit the airwaves. I always admired him for that and I've strived to take those nerves of steel with me. I also learned from Eddie, that a positive attitude goes a long way. You may not be the best, but you have to approach every situation with a can-do attitude and you have to believe in yourself. But you must also temper that with knowing when you aren't going to meet your goals and making a contingency plan. Don't say that you are going to make slot if you aren't because other people are depending on you. You have to know your strengths and weaknesses. You have to be honest.

Eddie took a chance on me and I know that he was happy with how I turned out and I am forever indebted to him for seeing something in me that I didn't know that I had.

He will be missed and remembered and appreciated.

Rivoting video!

Hahahahahaha. Okay. This is clearly a case of a reporter being forced to do a story for which he has repeatedly told his producer that he has NO VIDEO.

Sarah's Birthday

A couple of weeks ago I went out with some friends for my good friend Sarah's birthday. It was an interesting evening full of new activities for me. First, we all met at thrive for drinks and then dinner.

I've been in the 101 Marietta Street building many times (that's where Radio One is located), but never really noticed the swank little restaurant adjacent to the lobby. It turns out that the food was delicious, although we were practically the only patrons. We started with the Thrive sweet crab & artichoke fondue, which was so good that I could have eaten it all myself and I think we were all embarrassed by how possessive we were being over the dip. It was great. For my entree, I had the Springer Mountain chicken breast, roasted red potatoes & rosemary port reduction, which was hands down, the best chicken dish I've ever had in my life. I mean, except for, you know, McNuggets. As far as I could tell, everyone was happy with their meal.

However, the restaurant wasn't chosen for it's food. It was chosen for it's proximity to The Glenn Hotel where those that planned on drinking had reserved several rooms. Due to my unfortunate unemployment, I could afford to neither get a room or drink, so I didn't actually stay there, but I did visit Sarah's room between dinner and a trip to the bar on the rooftop of The Glenn Hotel. From the lobby to the elevator to the room, no detail was overlooked in establishing the modern feel of the hotel. It's retro-modern style remided me of the famous Parker Hotel, where I've also never stayed. But aside from the fabulous modern decor, the real highlight of the hotel was the afore-mentioned rooftop bar. The building is just the right height... you are high enough to see all the city, but low enough to still be able to recognize the streets and see the people. Unfortunately, it was extemely crowded on that night, but it would have been quite enjoyable when it is a little less busy, perhaps on a week night.

But the real highlight of the evening was meeting Tohper Payne, the partner of Sarah's good friend Tommy. When I got home and googled Topher, I read that he was a "southern humorist." That's what I want to be! Like Hollis Gillespie or Lewis Grizzard. Or Jeff Foxworthy or Larry the Cable Guy! *sound of record screaching* Ok, maybe like Hollis Gillespie. In any case, Topher was every bit as charming and warm in person as he is in his column, which is hilarious. Of course, Topher's also an actor and recently wrote a book. OF COURSE.

This blog, admittedly, is mostly a marketing tool for my store, but reading Topher's work makes me a little ashamed of that, because he clearly puts so much thought into his posts. And not just thought, but heart. It makes me want to be a better writer.

I stole all the photographs used in this post from the respective web sites.

2012

Hey, so have you guys heard about the impending apocalypse? Really, it's on wikipedia, an unwavering source of factual information, so we know it must be true.

Basically, the Mayan calendar ends on December 21, 2012 and because it seems that the Mayans had a better understanding or the solar system and the calendar than we do, then their calendar ending on this day must mean doom, right?

Well, since I'm always looking for something to worry about, I'm somewhat interested in this. I don't want to die, but more than not wanting to die personally, I don't want civilization to die. Why is it that the end of civilization is so much more disturbing that the death of an individual, even if that individual is yourself? Why does is matter what happens to the world if you're dead? No one knows what happens after death. Everyone has their beliefs, but from atheist to Muslim, no one thinks that once you are dead, you are terribly concerned with the living. But the world ending. It's disturbing. I guess maybe the end of the world is like the death of God, of hope. We are all part of something larger than ourselves. Some call it God. Some call it Atman. Some call it Humanity. Some call it Civilization. It's all that remains of us when we are gone and we live our lives hoping to achieve immortality through make some small impression on it. Some people have kids. Some write novels. Some blow up buildings. But we do all these things to try to make an imprint on society so that when we are dead and gone, our life will have mattered, even if it's in the smallest way.

But the apocalypse. That means that none of us matter. Nothing we do matters. And that's depressing!

So, if you only have three and a half years left until the world is consumed by fire, what would you do? Is it different than if you only had three and a half years left until you are hit by a car and killed?

And oh yeah. There's a movie staring John Cusack.

Sassy Lamb!

Isn't this lamb sassy with it's coy over-the-sholder glance?

Sassy lamb and more, currently for sale at Bad White Trash Memories: The Store.

Chairs for sale

Got these chairs at the church yardsale. Thought that they would work in my space, but after marinating on it for a week, I've decided they don't. They are awesome chairs though! I'm asking $80, if you're interested and local. And can pick them up. And have cash.