That Mamapalooza Not Be Forgotten

I write this post because I think it is important that there exist an accurate description of the Mamapalooza event that took place in New York on May 15, 2016 . Ah, yes; the Ides of May. No wonder. In the future, having a record of his event may be deemed relevent (to what, I do not know). As Herodotus said (paraphrased), things that seem small in the present may seem important in the future, and vice versa. Let this serve as an honest record of an eyewitness accound. All of these things are true as I have seen them.

I should have you know I was attending Mamapalooza as a vendor. Without incriminating my (now former) employer, just understand that I was essentially trapped there. "What is Mamapalooza?" you might be asking yourself. I asked myself that as well before I left in the morning, but I didn't care enough to read the description I had received. I just assumed it would have lots of people discussing how wonderful mothers are. Some of those people would probably be interested in the eco-friendly product I would be there to sell. I didn't think I would need to know more. While observing, I managed to pick up some of the history surrounding Mamapalooza. There have been Mamapaloozas in the past; someone might have said it was the 15th annual Mamapalooza. I overheard someone else saying that it had rained torrentially for all but one of the last 6 Mamapaloozas.

I arrived by bike to a pier on the Hudson River. A cold southwesterly wind blew over the temporary bandstand in the center of the pier while some cold, fellow vendors stood off to the side. I unpacked and set up my table to the tune of an upbeat children's version of "You are my sunshine" performed by a singer-songwriter on the stage by herself. There weren't many people there, so I started listening to the music more closely. When the song ended, she  told the audience that she was a mother herself, and that her son was learning so many new words, and she was going to perform a song about that process.

The song that followed was a collection of words such as "banana," "hello," "sorry" and other things you frequently hear coming out of two year olds' mouths. I definitely heard some of the words more than once, but I can't remember them, because there weren't any actual thoughts expressed. Periodically, she would encourage everyone to sing along, and then launch into a new string of unbroken and unpredictable words. "Perhaps I'm too old to understand," I thought to myself. Her next spoken introduction talked about how sometimes it can be difficult to be a parent. To be honest, at this point, the rest of her set blurred into one large advertisement against ever having children, because she touched on themes like how difficult it was to make any time for her husband (and how when she does she's always tired), what good manners look like ("we ask please, please, please"), and in another song she addresses a newborn and attempts to convince it that it should sleep 7 hours straight and everyone might be happier. Any fears I had of fatherhood in the distant future were intensified, and I feel fairly certain that Mamapalooza has added a matter of months to the time before which I will be mentally prepared to have offspring.

When she left the stage, a rock band set up. The MC stood up and enthusiastically introduced the vendors to the audience, and really gave a great pitch about what each of us did. Unfortunately, at the time she gave it, there were maybe 15 people milling around the pier so most of the vendors just ended up waving at each other as they were called. The rock band performed afterwards, and they played some crowd pleasing rock. I didn't really listen to it to closely; mostly, I just noticed that it was pretty loud. The speakers were really cranking now, and with the cold wind and loud music, it was hard to have a conversation with anyone who approached my table. Most of the vendors were just tapping their feet to the rockband. One guy had a bunch of small beach balls which he was giving out; kids loved them. Occassionally a beach ball would get carried off by the wind, and a toddler would chase it down. This was probably around 2 pm now, and the weather wasn't getting any warmer. The band played a song by Prince to close out (I forget which).

The next band at Mamapalooza was a hip-hop duo. I think they sounded fine, but they also were singing songs accusing bitches of being gold diggers. Another vendor heard lyrics with different curses. There was almost no one in the audience, but I was rapidly losing track of the theme of the afternoon in the performances. Things were getting really bleak; throughout the day, performers and announcers were grabbing hold of every ray of sunlight and insisting that it was going to stay if not get better. It never did. I hadn't sold anything. I talked to two people. Off on the side, some soccer coaches attempted to keep toddlers interested in the soccer station they had set up to advertise their soccer camp. The toddlers weren't buying it. Some dude with a video camera was walking around fillming everything, so  I tried to look busy. The music stayed loud, then a pause, and the next band introduced themselves.

I sincerely recommend trying to find the official Mamapalooza website and finding out who the fourth performer was, because  my description will never do them justice. In brief, they were a Brooklyn based heavy metal band. The lead singer had red hair, a matching sequined tank top and fishnet stockings; she also played a flute for melodic interludes The drummer was wearing a tank top (my legs were cold; my legs never get cold). The lead singer was running around the stage singing energetically. I think some of her friends showed up, because I can't otherwise explain why there were a handful of twenty-somethings hanging out on the pier that day for this set. The music was deafening. I saw one four year old girl in the audience in a bike helmet looking confused and lost. I felt bad for her. The lead singer had jumped up onto a chair and was thrusting her pelvis at the face of someone in the next row. It might have been a dad, I don't know. I turned around, and looked again to see her flat on the ground, thrusting her hips up in the air to the beat of the music. It was terrifying. I took a picture discreetly; I worried that if she saw me taking a picture, she might mistake me for a fan and come sing at me. At some point she announced that she had time for 2, no, 3 more songs, and the audience let out a terrified gasp.

The metal act. I wasn't comfortable getting any closer to the stage without drawing her attention. Note the empty chairs. Not pictured are her face-humps of audience members. 

I cannot remember the rest of the afternoon clearly. The weather got worse. Vendors started packing up. The final band got on the stage; they were an Ecuadorian fusion band, the MC announced. They started soundchecking. The rain started falling. All the vendors made a beeline for the shelter of the elevated highway while the band announced that maybe it was over. We froze for a few minutes. I overheard the soccer coaches talking about how they had been told there were going to be 3,000 people at the event, and we had maybe seen 80. The sun came out, and the band went on. The lead singer was a mother, and they played stuff that sounded like a good Santana cover band. Not that I could actually appreciate any music at this point - I had been too overwhelmed by the previous acts of Mamapalooza to appreciate the closing act. But when it ended, all the vendors disappeared. Immediately. And the park staff was helpful, and they ferried heavy equipment up to the street.

The MC was apparently satisfied. The person working for the parks announced that Mamapalooza was one of over 200 events that would be a part of something called "Summer on the Hudson." That was it - Mamapalooza 2016 ended. If you have more information, please, please, please, comment below.

Appropriate Warnings

So first off, I'd like to thank everyone who has congratulated me on graduating. It certainly wasn't always a given that I was going to escape Columbia in the good graces of the administration or with a diploma; the fact that I accomplished both of those is as pleasantly surprising to me as it may be to you.

That being said, a lot of the comments that follow "Congratulations on graduating!" have made me uncomfortable. For example, I've been told things like, "Congratulations on graduating! Now you get to work until you die!" and "Congratulations on graduating! It'll never get any better!" I appreciate that you're taking the time to wish me well, but please keep in mind that graduation is traumatic enough as is; the last thing I need is to be reminded how much more unpleasant everything that follows could be. For your benefit, I've compiled a list of acceptable corrections to oft-heard advice that will still convey the appropriate, intended warning.

Instead of: Congratulations! You'll never have so much freedom to do whatever you want ever again!
Try: Congratulations! You're going to have such an easy time coming up with schedules in the future!

Instead of: Congratulations! Soon you'll realize how good and easy you had it!

Try: Congratulations! You're nostalgic feelings are going to be so much better!

Instead of: Congratulations! Now you get to work until you die!

Try: Congratulations! If you work long enough, you'll get a super long vacation and be able to relax all you want!

Instead of: Congratulations! Welcome to the real world where you need to work for everything you want!

Try: Congratulations! You chose the red pill!

So, let me get this straight. Before taking the blue pill, I need to intentionally fail at least two classes? That doesn't sound too difficult...

In other news, my good friend Neil (another recent, but more productive, graduate) is well on his way to becoming a professional musician. One of his current projects is a fusion band that draws from Scottish, jazz and Latin influences. You can read about them and listen to a track here; check them out, I've seen them live a couple of times and the music is fantastic.

But in all honesty, thanks for all the well wishes; I really appreciate them. I'll be sure to keep you posted on life post-graduation.

How (not) to Start a Cover Letter

For the past few weeks, I've been trying to write a cover letter for a position I really, really want. That's right: the past few weeks. Longer than it would have taken for my parents to be concerned about me going missing when I was little, but not long enough for them to call the police. It's not that I'm writing a cover novel or that I'm agonizing over structure or anything like that. The issue is that I can't write a cover sentence for my cover letter if my life depended on it. I went through several variations over the past weeks on this first sentence, which I'd like to share.

Of course, the greeting was pretty standard.

Dear _______

Then I realized I had to say something. So I started out,
I'm writing to express my interest in the position you advertised.

Bah. Boring. He probably gets millions of those. I deleted it and started over. More confidence this time.
I saw your position, and was impressed by how well qualified I am to fill it.

Great. I impress myself. That's one person I can impress. Deleted that. Ok, sound less like a total asshole.

I feel that I have the qualities you are looking for in the position you advertised.

Well, that one just looks like Charlie Brown wrote a cover letter applying to be a dog-walker. Wishy washy. Delete. Maybe I'll just try to tell the truth?
I'm writing to let you know how absolutely desperate I am to get the position; is there anyone you need killed? I could make that happen, if you were to hire me.

Whoops. Too true. And would probably be used as evidence against me at some point in the future. Delete. Tone it down, a little.

I am in love with the position you have advertised; please end my heartache by uniting us.

Sounds whiny. This position is looking for someone a little tougher.

Often, when I am hungry, I eat positions like the one you advertised for breakfast, then I crap out resumes; I'm hungry now, and I want your position.

This would totally work if he's looking for psychopaths. As is, delete, try again.
Please let me have your position babies.

If this were an application for a role in an adult movie (it's not, I swear), that would probably work. Delete. Despair. I did like the brevity, though.
Your advertised position is awesome; I'm awesome. Let's get together.

So that's where it stands currently. And by, "that's where it stands," I mean to say that that is my entire cover letter (minus my signature, of course). If you have any edits to suggest, please let me know.

Hope all is well!

How to be Amusingly Incompetent

It's no secret that the trick to never being asked to do work is to be stupendously incompetent. Like, really, really incapable off doing anything right. Ever.  Unfortunately, that's not necessarily the best way to keep friends. If all you do is mess up everything you touch, no one is going to want to have anything to do with you. 

That TPS report looked like it was filled out by someone ass-backwards with their head not screwed on properly. Don't ever talk to me again.

 That's why it's important to be amusingly incompetent. Yes, you will still be messing up everything that you touch, but, with practice, you will be doing it in a way that makes you endearing to the people who need to correct what you have destroyed. 

Hey guys? Can we just agree that I shouldn't be allowed near any of the tools ever again?

 For some of us, this comes naturally. Otherwise, you will need to work at this if you hope to ever have any free time in your life. Being incompetent is generally easier to perfect. If you have trouble with this, the best place to start is just by turning things in late. Then, with all the time you gained by extending the deadline, you can work on the amusing part of the equation. 


To make sure that you stay amusing in your incompetence, here are a few tips.

1) Make sure you stay good-natured. Foul-mouthed and incompetent is not endearing. 

Monkey balls! I dropped that dip-shit heavy package off the fuckin' cliff again!

2) Never make fun of someone else for being incompetent. Although it may seem like a good distraction technique, and it may get you a laugh, remember that it will ultimately remind people how incompetent you are. Besides, depending on the situation, this may backfire horribly.

"Ha! He'll never cut anything with that axe technique, the incompetent fool!"

"Whoops. He had that coming though, right?"
"Totally. Anyway, what are you doing after work?"

 3) Be self aware. Everyone knows you can't do shit, so it shouldn't be surprising to you. That's why it's endearing. You know you're useless, and you want to be helpful, but you just don't know how. 

Don't do this:
"Hey guys, check out how red I can make my face!"
"Ya mind helpin' out, you useless jerk?"

Instead, try this:
"I'll just help out from this side, guys! Squeeze when you're ready!"
"Oh, sweet Jesus, get him away from there. Can someone distract him with food?"

Amusing incompetence has mixed results for papers, however, as evidenced by the comment I got back from this end of term paper.

Considering what I would have gotten if I tried, a ?+ isn't too bad.

I have taught you all that I know about shirking work. Use it well, young slacker. 

Hope all is well with you, dear readers.

Essay Writing Rules

I suppose I should apologize for my prolonged absence from the blogosphere (or, le blogesphere, as it is known in le francais). Despite all of my attempts to appear a man of leisure, work has caught up to me. I have thus found myself thinking about working on the paper that I'm supposed to produce. Sadly, I do not mean "produce" in the way a magician produces a rabbit from a hat - I meant more in the way that a construction worker "produces" a 20 foot hole in the ground (and a traffic jam, in case he's in New York City). One of the reasons this has taken so long is because I have very high quality standards for any paper I write. Perhaps you are acquainted with Strunk and White's Elements of Style, which offers a few key pointers to anyone holding the pen and paper. I've always found that while Elements of Style does very well pointing out the finer details, it isn't very useful when looking for inspiration; you need to actually have an idea of what you're going to write. For some of us, this is an issue*. I can't help with this, but I do have some advice to make your paper more engaging. In case you ever find yourself needing to produce a paper, here are a couple of tips to keep in mind.

1. Papers are much like stories. They should have a beginning, middle and end. And much like every good story, all good papers begin with "No shit, there we were..."

2. Proper formatting can add excitement to any paper. Stamp "TOP SECRET" across every page, preferably in blood (red ink will do in a pinch). On the cover page, explain that readers who do not have access to the paper will be eliminated. This will keep your reader on his toes.

3. Your paper will be impossible for any reader to put down if you can figure out how to print on fly paper. Good luck.

4. If the reader knows what comes next, why would he continue to read? Swap pages around, and make sure page numbers are misleading. A good paper has elements of a good puzzle.

5. Pictures are excellent means to keep your reader's attention fixed right where you want it - on your paper. Playboy magazine has known and used this trick for years.

6. Maps in the days of yore left blank pages at the end so that when you traveled off of the map, you could add in what you discovered. Always leave a few extra pages at the end of your paper, too. This will add bulk, and if a critic says that your paper is missing something, inform him that he should feel free to insert his additions in those pages.

7. Never insult your reader's intelligence by adding citations. Assume that your reader is well read, and knows exactly what you are referring to or whom you have quoted. Alternatively, make sure your reader is paying attention by creating and citing sources that don't exist. Not only does this test your readers, but it helps support claims you may be trying to make.

8. Your scholarly pursuits will be taken much more seriously if you have hostages. Threatening papers written in fonts cut out of magazines are always closely read. Furthermore, if done properly, these open the door for follow up papers. Care should be taken in selecting a hostage of value and making sure not to get caught by your audience, editors or police in the process.

9. Always be accommodating; if your paper will have multiple audiences who differ in opinions, include multiple conclusion sections. This will leave everyone happy. Refer to the "Create your Own Adventure" series for formatting ideas.

10. Poofread!

Anyway, I've really enjoyed working on this, but this has come at the expense of the paper I'm supposed to be writing. Hope these tips come in handy next time you find yourself in the same spot (metaphorically, to be clear) that I'm in!

*See Finding Forester, in which a brilliant author can't write until Sean Connery lets him copy his stuff. Fun fact: Spies and authors are normally trained in the same manner - being shown how Sean Connery does things, and then told to imitate that.

Occupational Pastimes

I'm a big fan of the saying, "Work smarter, not harder!" First off, there's some truth in that; innovative methods will get you further than mindlessly toiling. I'm sure you can come up with your own example to show this. More importantly, cheerily smiling and telling yourself "work smarter, not harder!" is a great excuse to do all sorts of slacking; after all,you can't start working smarter until you stop working harder. Let me tell you this: the key to working smarter is being well rested.

Unfortunately, for those of us who have more engaging pursuits than sleeping, it's often difficult to remain well rested. Really, the best solution is to nap at work. Napping is pretty simple - it requires only a few props, and can be done at any time during the work day (try not to let naps interfere with your personal life, though. Best keep them 9-5).  The first tip I would give is try to have something on your computer screen that at least makes it look like you've been productive at some point during the day. That way, if anyone comes over to check on your progress, you'll have something to point at while you try to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

Bad

Good

Once you've got your defense mechanism up, go for some of these positions. 

"Despair" position. Props needed: None. Cons: Someone might try to comfort you.

"I'm despairing, but don't bother waking me" Position. Props needed: towel.

The "I'm working hard!" Position. Key here is to make sure the eyes are hidden. Necessary props: pen/pencil, strong elbows.

"Bomb shelter" position. Props needed: desk. Pros: You're lying down, safe in case of an emergency. Cons: Someone might check to see if you have everything you need (possibly sarcasm)

"Well-Prepared Bomb Shelter" Position. Props needed: desk, towel, canned food and opener if available. Cons: Someone might try to join you if you're too well prepared.

This last position is really only for the really ambitious nappers out there. First off, it involves preparation the day before, and you'll have to leave your computer on, so it also wastes energy. The benefits are enormous if you can perfect it, though. Really, only try this if you have an unhealthy disdain for your job or are completely irreplaceable.

Part 1

Part 2. Necessary props: Lack of concern for consequences of your actions or lack of foresight.