Indulging My Architecture Fantasies

I've probably mentioned it before, but I had a brief dream as a child that I wanted to be an architect. That dream was crushed by my brain's inability to love math. Seems there's some math involved in architecture, which is stupid, 'cause if I can imagine it, I can build it, right? Anyway, so I didn't get to be an architect, and I can say, "Oh, well, probably for the better." And I tell myself most architects probably hate life anyway because they have to design block apartments and hideous convenience stores and other things they despise. And they look back to their idealistic college days and wonder what happened to that student who was going to build incredible houses and magnificent structures and they think of killing themselves. So yeah, who wants to be an architect? Stupid job. Stupid math job.

But I like to play with design still and imagine "What if?" It seems I'm not the only one who's come up with this: Concrete pipe dwellings. Here's a hotel in Austria using concrete pipes for rooms. They only have three rooms randomly strewn on a lawn and they didn't really go for it in grand way, but I'm sure it's unique. Above is a modest little dwelling in China, and below are some guy's plans for something a little better. Kinda cozy in a claustrophobic way. (More detail here.)

While I applaud these modest efforts, all ya'll are thinking too small! If I were your architecture professor, I'd give you all F's and berate you before the class, suggesting that maybe you just kill yourself now since you'll be contemplating it anyway 20 years down the road when you're designing buildings that remind people of Soviet controlled Eastern Europe.

Let's get serious about concrete pipe. Like THIS monster mofo piece of pipe from Ameron International. 

You bury this chunk of cement halfway in the ground, either vertically or horizontally, and you've got a hurricane proof,  tornado proof, energy efficient place to build out. Stick three or four of them together, cut a few holes for windows and doors, and that's a nice sized place. Some stainless steel appliances and you're the coolest house in town. Leave a small section unfinished for your skateboarding kids. You'll need your own land, though, as I'd imagine most Home Owners' Associations shitting bricks if this went up in their neighborhood.

But as we've discussed before, rounded buildings don't catch the wind. (Hurricane season starts in a few days, which is why I'm thinking of this, I suppose.) And I'm pretty sure things half buried are easier to heat and cool. Surely there's some concrete pipe maker out there who once harbored dreams of becoming an architect who wants to try this experiment with me. Any of you old white guys on Ameron's board want to get your hands dirty? C'mon. It'll be fun.

The Asterisk is Your Friend

Years ago, in a meeting between representatives from the legal, sales and marketing departments, someone suggested, "Really, we can pretty much say anything we want if we put an asterisk next to it, and then explain the overstatement or blatant lie on the back or the bottom in very small print."

In this case, that fine print would read: You can't really COUNT the peanuts and measure that count against the number of all the other nuts combined. When we say, "Less than 50%," we mean by weight. So, if you want, you can weigh all the peanuts and compare that result against the weight of all the other nuts combined and you'll find that it probably comes in at around 49.99999%. But don't you think it's cool how we managed to hide all the peanuts under a layer of the better nuts carefully placed on the top of the can? Do you know how long it took us to accomplish that feat of packaging? It's like automated food styling!"

Money-Saving Tips for Unemployed Suburbanites

Hey, homeowner! Do you have garage clutter? Are your yard tools just leaning against a wall and making the space look like the unkempt shop of Slingblade or perhaps the backwoods hideout of a serial killer/child molester? Don't accept that fate! Now you can purchase this handy yard tool organizer for only $49.99! That's well below the manufacturer's suggested retail price!

But maybe you don't have a spare $50 right now. At Where's My Jetpack? we understand your situation. Why spend $50 on something you really don't need right now when what you need is gas in your tank to go to a job interview? So, do what we did! Go to Lowe's and find a display of those car washing wands. You can usually find two or three of them sitting together, none of them full. Consolidate the wands into one display rack and find a clerk. Ask the clerk if you can have that empty display rack that's just sitting there doing nothing. He or she will likely shrug and say something like, "I don't see why not."

Bullshit Ideas of Yesteryear

For those of us who enjoy looking at old ads, there is a limitless supply at Google Books. Get rich quick schemes, cigarettes, cars, food, underwear, leg warmers, bomb shelters, it's all there. Just pick a year and a magazine title and peruse your workday away.

I found this column of lies in a vintage Popular Science classified section, just after the full-page ad of the guy leaning on his Rolls Royce, promising to help you make $100,000 in 90 days.

I Think They Called it an "Icebox"

I'm a big fan of the oddly juxtaposed, the weird and off the wall, which is why when coming across this image for a 1950 refrigerator in an old copy of LIFE magazine over at Google Books, I felt the need to stock the fridge with beer. I don't know, just something about a bunch of proper ladies playing bridge and getting excited about binge drinking pleases me. It was kind of sad to imagine the original intent of the ad, where these ladies were interrupting their bridge game to get all excited about a new refrigerator. I assume it was bridge anyway, because ladies of that era were not allowed to play anything else.

I tried and tried to come up with a caption for this, but other than some sort of reference to the ladies loving a good stallion, I came up empty. I'm sure there are creative minds out there that can deliver a good line for this. Then we sell it to Rolling Rock and start our own shop. Or not. Whatever.

The Visionaires of Radio Shack

(A larger version of this electronic image can be enabled simply by clicking on the left button of the pointer device attached to your computer terminal)

And This is Why They Invented the Extended Cab

Copy-heavy ad from 1984 featuring three very close friends.

When Pigs Fly

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Siemens, the German conglomerate with their hands in everything from healthcare to telecommunications, strongly suggests in this copy how very American they are. They want to build high-speed rail here in the US. Yeah, that'll happen. Of course if it ever did, who else but the Germans to trust with trains? They've got it down.

(And I proudly still own the top spot on Google when you search Amtrak sucks.)

So, Me and 364 Other People...

It's a big list with some notable names. I see Bob and Angela coming up soon. My day was yesterday and it was an honor to be included among such august company. It's called The 3six5 Project and is the brainchild of Len Kendall and Daniel Honigman. They gathered 365 people to write a post of no more than 365 words. Being the type who likes to meet word count guidelines, my post comes in at exactly 365 words. (Shut up. It's not THAT psycho.)

You're supposed to write about your assigned day, which is half the challenge. On Saturday I'm going, "What the hell am I going to write about? It'll just be a boring Sunday filled with yard work more than likely." Then I awoke to something to write about. It was still yard work, though.

Dale Peterson is Gonna Kick Some Ass

UPDATE: I would've lost that money I was going to place on Dale. Seems he got his ass kicked. Disregard this entire post.

I've been away for a week, so apologies if I'm posting something everyone else already has. (When I'm gone that long, I tend to mark all RSS items as "read" as I don't have the patience to sift through the thousands of things I missed.)

Via Dan Eck came this gem in my inbox for Alabama candidate for Agricultural Commissioner Dale Peterson. From the grand cinematic score to the veiled threats to calling his opponent a dummy, this guy should be a shoe-in for what he calls one of the most powerful positions in Alabama. Dog tags and Marine Corps insignia over the Constitution. Cowboy hat. Every cliche is covered. (Correction: He didn't include an American flag. Missed an opportunity there.) Every hot button hit. Via The Washington Post comes this quote: "Republican consultants are conspiring feverishly" to produce more such ads in order to "cross the Rachel Maddow Threshold and get mocked by liberals." I'm not mocking. What Rachel and the Screaming Left don't get is that this stuff works. This is advertising at its most effective. (Some guy who thinks he's funny has created a spoof of this. It's lame.) A commenter at that same WaPo link says, "It's ironic that some of the enlightened elite don't realize that Dale is in on the joke." The rifle is the perfect touch at the end. I'd put money on Peterson winning this primary on June 1.

OK, I Don't Hate New York Anymore

Having just returned, I had many of my prejudged notions confirmed (Yankees fans are everywhere and obnoxious as hell) and dispelled (New Yorkers are actually a very friendly lot). Purpose of the trip is explained over at my other blog.

And you know how when Beatles fans go to London, they can't resist taking a picture of themselves in that famous crosswalk, mimicking the Abbey Road album cover? I did the same on St. Mark's Place in homage to a far better album. (Get over it, Beatles freaks. I'm right and you know it.)

Smell Like a Man - Or a Corona Swilling Pirate or Something

In keeping with their ad campaign that encourages men to "Smell like a man, man," Old Spice's packaging is along for the ride. An old friend sent along this image. Note the copy at the top.

The Skills You Kids are Losing

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

Doctors Mystified By Bandana Fused to Man's Head

Never gave a crap about the band Poison, but I had to snap this while in the checkout line at the store. So even though he's unconscious in the hospital, Mr. Micheals' publicist saw to it that all photos of him would be sure to include his trademark headband.

"Exclusive Photos" People Magazine? Maybe because everyone else who looked at them said "Staged!" Ah, well, credit the man's money-making skills. To be thinking of selling photos and an interview to a magazine while in the middle of a life-threatening health crisis is pretty savvy.

WINNER! Best Handmade Corner Sign in The Down Economy

Everyone else just says "We Pay Cash for Your House," or "I'll Buy Your House - CASH." I love the innovation of this local shark, looking to help you out of your personal financial crisis.

Viral Marketin' Guru

If you visit her site, she'll toss around those phrases that quickly let you know she's all about affiliate marketing and work from home stuff, which tends to drift into MLM and other get-rich-quick ideas, all the while repeating the words, "Twitter, Facebook, Social Media and Web 2.0."

But who am I to make fun of someone's dream? Cynthia here is taking the bullshit by the horns and turning it into CA$H! Besides, she's Certified!

Thanks to Every Sandwich for the tip.

A Discussion Over a Disc

Whether you watch it Fair and Balanced or prefer The Place for Politics, there's no getting away from The Spin. And it drifts into your own conversations, as these two dear friends discover. (Click for the large)

Krazy With a Capital K

That Crazy Bavarian Humor

BMW isn't known for doing humor, but they've done it well in this ad for their "pre-owned" vehicles. Wish I knew the agency, not that it matters. And for all I know this is an old ad, though I'd never seen it until this morning. Rather, I wish I knew the writers. They've sold the lasting value of a BMW while poking fun at the prestige. I'm not sure of the relationship between the dad and the scout leader in this spot, but they could be taken for exes as her contempt for him seems born of familiarity.



'Course, I'm predisposed to like most things BMW does, as I've always lusted for their cars. They just seem...I don't know...tighter?

You Are Not a Ninja

Children, the happy heyday of cute, irreverent titles is over. Your startup failed, your VC dried up, your dreams of being bought by Google vanished. Even the speaking circuit you carved out in tiny ad clubs in rural areas is coming to an end. Update that resume and hit the bricks, dicks.

Perplexing Stock Photo

The incongruities weigh the mind.

Excerpts from Emails I Get

Inspired by Bill Green's Overheard Internet feature, I'm pasting randomness from friends, colleagues and relatives I've received through that antiquated form of communication, Electronic Mail.

"As for your unsolicited comment about my favorite video, yours is the first negative comment I've received. Everyone seems to think it's great. In fact, a television producer in Houston wants to use it in a piece she's doing. I will keep your comment in mind as I continue to collect nothing but positive reviews."

"I like getting dirty. Put new shocks on my truck yesterday, that was fun! That kind of stuff is much more rewarding to me than typing things into the glowing rectangle."

"I'm forwarding this issue to you because it has a link to an interesting article about Facebook.  The article itself contains a link to a video of a George Stephanopoulos ABC interview of a school principal who advocates not letting kids on Facebook." 

"You won't be in any jeopardy. Send me the check when yours arrive. No problem on this end. Thanks for letting me know and caring."

"The Shindiawas have a ferrule/bushing where the fuel line passes into the tank so you may want to check for an air leak on both sides of the tank ferrule. To check for an air leak there I usually pull the filter and line through the fill cap, clamp it off there then remove the same line from the carb and pressurize it to see if it holds pressure."

Social Media Mission Control

Sold on the idea that they absolutely just have to be involved in Twitter, Facebook and probably Foursquare at this point, businesses still fail miserably when it comes to social media. It's not really their fault. I blame the clowns at the agencies who made them believe how important it was in the first place.

I tweeted recently about my disappointment with my insurance company - by name. (Hint: You're not really in good hands with them.) Within a day and a half, which is a long-ass time in social media, I got a reply on Twitter, though I'm sure they thought they were being quite timely. It was a very bland and corporatey response, something to the effect of, "Sorry. How can we help?" But the truth is, that's all they could say. Unfortunately, there is nothing they can actually do to help and they know that. They sent an adjuster out to the house who denied my claim, so I said they sucked on Twitter. Is their Twitter Response Team going to overrule the adjuster? Of course not. They responded just for the sake of responding, to avoid looking like an uncaring corporate entity with little regard for their customers' petty complaints. They call it Brand Reputation Management, which is a nice way of saying "Spray the Dog Shit with Lysol." It will stop stinking for a little while and maybe people will walk through the room and not notice it. Eventually it will dry up and stop stinking altogether.

I'm sure there are others out there who griped about an airline and maybe got a few free miles out of the exchange, but those cases are rare. Personally, I'd rather go back to the days (two years ago) when companies just let the complaints happen, not worried what one little tweet was going to do to their brand. One little tweet won't do shit to your brand, unless it reflects a huge and catastrophic fuck-up on your company's part, like maybe you lost a child on one of your airplanes. You got sold on "Being in a Conversation" with your customers, which is utter bullshit. You may now appear to be in a conversation, but you don't give a rat's ass anymore than you ever did. There are other insurance companies, but this one gambles that I will probably not go to the trouble of switching to another just because I have to pay for my own claim now. They're probably right, but their fake caring response had nothing to do with that. They should stop worrying about it and stop pretending to care.

One Size Fits All and the Death of Creativity

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