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About a year

Yeah…It was somewhere around this time last year, that this blog started. I find myself at a seminar in Atlantic City again, but this time I'm not watching the hitting prowess of David Ortiz against New York Yankee pitching. The seminar was a bit later this year, so baseball's over, and the only sports I've seen down here are the Sixers, which I could do without.

A lot has changed in a year. I've lost a father and gained a son. I've gotten a crash course in estate taxation, tenant/landlord relationships, probate, and all other kinds of financial shenanigans. I've mostly resisted my urge to buck all responsibility, but these things have a way of following you around so that won't do me any good.

But it's my last night in AC. I'm only $ 50 in the hole. I've got a full stomach, and I'm staying at the Tropicana which I highly recommend. You won't go hungry or dry at this place. But I tire of posting, there are other matters at hand. Like calling for a wake-up call, packing, and arranging for room service breakfast.

Magazine of the Misfit Toys

When I tire of my son's Lincoln Logs, Thomas trains, and the other 7 milion items I step on, trip over, sit on, duck from, get run over by, and last but not least, get hit in the head with. I'm glad Hi Fructose is out there, so I know there's toys for me too. These are toys that more often will just sit on a shelf with many collectors, but I'm sure I would let them go toe to toe with the Thomas trains, and the whole fleet of trucks that cause traffic jams in my front hall, just to see if artists and designers can make toys that withstand the punishment that only Tonka and Bruder can dish out.

I've enjoyed the first issue of Hi Fructose. It's a nicely designed/produced magazine, that could suck a reader into a world they didn't know existed and may not have cared. It's definitely something for the Juxtapoz crowd. I can't justify subscribing, but I have a strange fascination for well-crafted magazines, so I'm sure I'll pick this up again.

Particularly of interest is the photography of Brian McCarty. If you're spoiled daughter wanted to hire a photographer for Barbie and Ken's wedding, he probably wouldn't be the one to hire, he'd be busy taking the candids of Skipper shagging a bus boy next to the dumpster, or capturing a drunken Care Bear puking in the parking lot. McCarty has a knack for capturing the real life of toys. He has a gift for reading between the lines on the packaging copy, and goes beyond what the Saturday morning commercials let on.

Oh and he's got Master Shake cavorting with some bikini clad babes.

Matt Lauer Ignores the Teleprompter

There's no way President Bush could have expected anything except Jeff Gannon size softballs to hit out of the park, but my guess is Matt Lauer saw an advance of that new George Clooney movie, Good Night and Good Luck, and fired up by Edward R. Murrow, he came out of it like I did as a kid after watching the Rocky movies. Lauer set his sights on the president, made light of the “photo-op”, and went on to ask questions about Karl Rove, Harriet Miers, and why the government doesn't want to ever forgive the Katrina debt.

Bush handled the interview better than I would have imagined. (Translation: 85% less stuttering and stammering, Andy Dick would be disappointed.) His handlers must have prepared him already for some other audience. But still his sometimes incredulous expression simply said, “WTF?”

Lauer must want Dan Rather's job or something. I always thought Matt Lauer just came across as completely dull and uninteresting, but he had his argument with Tom Cruise a few months back and has now showed the president another vertebrae in the news media backbone.

The president's comment, “Last night, Laura and had dinner with Mayor Nagin and a group of distinguished New Orleans citizens from all walks of life.” intrigued me. Was Robert Davis one of those distinguished citizens?

All in all a fun time was had by all…but President Bush.