All posts by TimmyB

Just a creative genius, mentally tinkering away in the laboratory that is my head.

NBC = Not BAD Choices (Not totally great, either)

(I’m off to see how “dumb” I can lower myself today. Ac-ting!!!)

Yesterday were the “upfronts,” at which the big networks show off what TV shows they’ve decided to keep and what pilots they’ve picked up for the next “season” of TV to their advertisers. A lot of this decision making, especially at NBC, often appears to be done by 15 year-old juvenile horny monkey accountants. How else can you explain the greenlighting of such riveting, award-winning shows such as “The Playboy Club,” “Whitney,” “Prime Suspect,” and “The Firm?” Yet, “Chuck” continually fought for survival year in and year out. AND, somehow “Smash” received a second season…

But, a glimmer of hope peeked through the clouds yesterday when it was announced that NBC realized what it had by renewing “30 Rock” and “Community” BUT at only 13 episodes. Mother-f*ckers. Grow a pair of balls and give them full seasons. We all know that this will be the last season of “30 Rock,” and after a little bit of a false start this season, they have demonstrated that Tina Fey and crew have no shortage of story lines for the TGS gang.  Surely, a 22 episode season is a great way to send off a show that has won NBC multiple Emmy’s. Isn’t it?

But, more perplexing to me is the Caesar-eque sideways thumb that was giving to “Community.” NBC has their version of “Arrested Development” on its hands. This is a show that doesn’t set you up with joke-joke-joke, physical pratfall, joke-pay off joke. (If it does, it is smart enough to call attention to it right in the story.) It’s odd, which scares people who need the above formula. It’s characters are rich, diverse, and everyday. It’s hardly crass, which seems to be what sells in today’s society. “Community” is what it says it is: a community of individuals that makes for a great, fun half  hour at 8 P.M. on Thursday nights. It’s a riot. Watch it.

And NBC, as I fold my arms and tap my feet here I am still waiting on a pick up for “Parks & Rec” and “Up All Night.”

P.S. The uber-nerd in me was geeked out and glad to know my Friday nights are now booked as the CW and Fox renewed “Supernatural” and “Fringe” respectively.

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“Stuck in the Middle With You (My fellow ‘experientially-balanced’ unemployed)”

(Whatever, it’s that kind of day already…)

I received a call this morning. Normally, I don’t pick up the phone unless the caller ID displays a name in my phone book, and even then I give it a 50/50 chance I’ll ACTUALLY pick up the phone (this is how depressing not having a paying job is – I won’t pick up the phone unless it says “(xxx) xxx-xxxx, recruiter offering you A job. Answer now!” Unfortunately, I haven’t learned how to program THAT into my phone yet…).

But, the call this morning came from a 323 area code, meaning that it was from 1. a job that I had applied to, or B. a recruiter, even C. a temp agency.

If you picked “C,” then you know where a man with my experience is going to take you in this particular post today.

(What you need to know about me and my resume, is that although I display a certain high degree of creativity with possibly a lower degree of drive is that my career path has taken me on an adventure of Paulo Coelho-ian proportions. If you have read “The Alchemist,” then picture my career jumping out of the gate as quickly as Santiago’s pursuit of his dream with a great opportunity and experience at Paramount Studios as a studio page, PA, writers’ and show runner’s assistant, then bogged down in my own little “crystal shop” for seven years as a supervisor for an electronics reseller. My dream deferred for some time, I was lucky enough to continue my career in entertainment, working in the field of product placement and brand integrations, which I thoroughly enjoyed and was, by all accounts, pretty goddamned good at it. Now, it appears that I have to “learn how to make the wind blow in the desert.” But, I digress…)

I answered the phone. It was “Jane,”* the woman from “Acme Temp Agency”* calling to ask me more information on my resume. I have had this call before and knew that she was going to tell me that they didn’t place people like me who have “so much experience.” I told her that I am looking for ways to get back into positions that I have held in the past and was not opposed to performing “admin” work. Yes, this is how bad it’s gotten out there, why do you think I write this blog everyday – I have nowhere else to vent my frustrations with society!

After throwing myself at the mercy of Jane, she agreed to let me come in and talk about what I really will accept as work with her tomorrow. She suggested that I bring in a hard copy of my resume so that we can “dumb it down.”

I have a feeling that this is where a lot of candidates out there are finding themselves. We are NOT “not looking.” We are NOT opposed to taking job “below us.” We are NOT afraid of doing “something different.” We are perfect candidates who are perfectly unemployable. Age non-withstanding, as I am neither a recent grad nor a “seasoned vet” with VP, or EVP experience, I find myself equally “too experienced” and equally “inexperienced.” Yet, I have skills that are broad and easily adaptable. But, with so many others out there seeking the same positions, their keywords are probably better than mine.

And that’s why I am stuck in the middle with many millions of others. It’s not a matter of having the experience, it’s just not being picked up by Mr. Algorithm in H.R.

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Hi! I’m talking to you! Yes, you. Look out!

(If you can’t bother to be aware of your surroundings, you don’t deserve them.)

This one’s going to ramble as I’ve got things on my plate today. No jobs, just things

There’s nothing really “off topic’ to pontificate about today, with North Carolina dominating the news, so instead I’ll rant just a little about the lack of situational awareness that has quietly cropped up in today’s society.

Yesterday, a friend and I were running an errand in his car when we came to an intersection where a young woman, driving on the cross street, continued through the intersection, performing a “California Stop” more interested in her apparently crucial message on her iPhone.

Driving and texting/talking on the phone aside (dangerous and illegal, mind you), being tethered by social networks and constantly looking at our phones to view the latest FB post or incoming text has contributed to a raging case of anti-socialness.

Going out to happy hour last Friday with a group of about 9 or 10 of us, it didn’t take five minutes before everyone had their mobile phones out and on the table in front of them, constantly glancing to see if a new message had come in or whether everyone was ‘tagged’ correctly at the restaurant. Conversation ebbed and flowed, but always turned back toward the ball and chains disguised as smart phones on the table. (It would be interesting how much conversation COULD be had if all phones were to be remanded to  pockets or purses for the entirety of dinner.)

I must point out that I am guilty of this, and I haven’t seen my mother roll her eyes as much since I told her that I was moving to California…

In the broader sense, being tied to our phones for communication has put a wall up between us personally and to those strangers we see every day. For example, I walk to the store when I need something because I can. On the way to and from the store, I cordially say, “hello,” and smile to everyone. 9 out of ten times, the person has no expression or a reply. BUT, if I had texted them as I walked by with the words, “Hello,” I’ll bet I would have gotten a “hello” back. Probably with a “:)” emoticon as well…

Being the trouble maker that I am, one of my favorite things to do is when I see someone working on their phone and trying to accomplish something else, I’ll try to inconvenience them.  If someone is driving a car and talking on or texting on their phone, I’ll make an effort to get my car in front of theirs and step on the breaks or “drift” closer to them. If only I had a chance to use my camera on my phone to get some of these reactions.  Alas, being a dick in a car to others in a car takes a lot of effort not to die.

Another favorite is walking down the sidewalk and sticking to the middle of the sidewalk as people approach with their heads buried in their texting. I don’t move, acting as if I am looking at something else and didn’t notice them. Ah, the inconvenience of having to look where you’re going…

All I’m saying is that the text or the call can wait until you’re THERE, you CAN say “hello” back or smile, and if we are in a conversation, PLEASE take off your sunglasses. It’s rude (and something I’ll touch on soon…)

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Curses! The first chapter in the travails of dating in the 21st Century

“I need to tell you something,” she said, mobilizing her verbal forces for the killing charge.

Around us, the restaurant seemed to grow silent, conversations went quiet, heads turned in our direction as if we were in a freeway accident and they were the members of the safe and sound commuters, slowly rolling by.  Even the waiter, now bringing us our check since we had completed this fine meal, slowed his pace. He appeared panicked as he approached, having decided against the beeline away from the coming disaster. Sliding the check dutifully across to me, he stared me straight in the face with a hint of sadness as would a hangman in an old western; “it’s just my job, buddy.” He tiptoed away.

“Jane” made no effort to take the check from me. She was looking at her phone; most likely working out an escape route to get her away as fast as possible from the scene of the emotional carpet bombing she was going to lay down upon me. I didn’t say anything, holding what I thought would be high ground, ready to take shelter.

Rather expertly and unforeseen by me, she used the stealthy ninja break up tactic on me. No need to make a fuss here in this nice restaurant. Just a quick cut to the throat and leave me to bleed out.  “You’re a really great guy.” Reaching into my chest and plucking my heart out and showing it to me would have hurt less…

What is it about being a “really great guy” means the kiss of death when you are in a relationship? I think that most of my friends would call me a really great guy , although most would say that I’m a goof, sometimes odd and weird. BUT, I’m very rarely boring. And, in the end MOST would say to those who ask, “yes, he’s a Really Great Guy.”

(Let me set one thing straight: while I am a Really Great Guy, I’m not a pushover. There is a lot of shit I won’t put up with, and a lot of things that I don’t care for in building a relationship with someone. There’s a lot of things I am looking for as well. POSSIBLY too many things, as my mother will point out.)

AND, being a Really Great Guy IS an asset when being introduced to someone or set up with someone. Alas, I think that the days of being set up on a blind date or introduced to friends has probably passed as we have set ourselves into our groups that very rarely introduce newcomers.

But, if being labeled a Really Great Guy is a positive at the very beginning, what changes during a relationship in order to make it an excuse for breaking up? Is it just easier for my date to tell me that after dating for a few months, that she suddenly has a need to date her old boyfriend again who once broke her arm? Or is she just trying to let me down easy, that it just wasn’t meant to be and, should she want to date a Really Great Guy again, we can still be friends?

Don’t answer that. After being cursed as a Really Great Guy many times, I know the answer already.

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SPAM!!!! (It’s what’s for breakfast…)

Good morning everyone! Greetings from a soon to be dating, 50+ year-old spy and ultrasound tech with many 4G cell phones with plenty of dates from MegaHotDates and PickaSweetDate… IF my SPAM folder is any indication.

Unfortunately, nothing on the job front, but my SPAM folder was fuller (not a REAL word, as any English major will correct me soon enough) than my standard email folders, which gave me an off topic topic for today!

HOW did my SPAM folders get so full? And this was a small day!

I have approximately seven email accounts. I say “approximately seven” because I am very sure that I’ve forgotten several. Which is a shame as there is the very real possibility that the woman of my dreams has been frantically trying to reach me via one of those older emails.

But, until then, I’ll have to take up “Nayeli” @ MEGAHOTDATES on her offer to “get coffee and who knows what else,” and/or “Heidi” from PICKASWEETDATE who wants to “hookup, now.” I even had a request from AMC, who I think I have a real shot with because as her email suggested, “I’m so HOT right now. I need someone whome (SIC) I can hook up with on the internet, he he.” The American Movie Channel operator was NOT amused when I called the contact number at their website and tried to find the mystery girl…

Someday, I’ll need to track down which websites have sold my junk email address to adult dating sites. But, THAT’s why I use a junk email address when I sign up for insurance quotes, respond to suspect Craigslist job postings and lob the occasional incendiary comment regarding the Lakers’ or RaiderS’ sexual inadequacies onto the Rants and Raves section of Craigslist.

What’s really troubling from my SPAM folder is that I still haven’t heard back from my deposed Nigerian prince friend, and I’m wondering where my Irish National Lottery ticket went. Instead, I’ve apparently been targeted by sites that seem to think that I’ve entered my autumn years and that I am ready for AARP, LASIK vision correction, dating for seniors and am paranoid enough to invest in spy cameras for my house.

This would be much more amusing if I were employed and could scoff at the idea that someone in some far off marketing department has me correctly pegged. I’d better check my birth certificate immediately to make sure that I’m NOT ready for AARP and dating for seniors.

Right after I email Nayeli for that coffee and “who knows what else…”


I received this FANTASTIC email in my SPAM folder with the subject “ORGY DATING COMMUNITY MANAGER” just as I was about to grab some lunch:

Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but there is a dating community that is loaded with females that love orgies, group-sex, threesomes, and one-night-stands.

If you would like to meet some of these women to see if you would be interested in having an orgy, group-sex, threesome, or one-night-stand, then we can get you in contact with these women today.

How can you NOT open that email? And how does one become that community manager… You answer a job advertisement… I’m on the right track…

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