“Hope For Haiti Now” Behind The Scenes
Some twenty-four hours after its original airing, and some 150 miles from the earthquake's actual epicenter, I finally watched the "Hope For Haiti Now" telethon.
Like most of these sorts of live productions, it's rare that I actually see the event itself.
Friday night, I was at Kaufman Astoria Studios in Queens, one of four locations for this ambitious, last-minute, charitable broadcast. MTV News was conducting interviews in New York, Los Angeles and London, then serving them unbugged, unflagged and unbranded to the world's press. ...
The Future Needs A Big Kiss
I woke up at 4:36 this morning, then spent an hour and a half tossing, turning and rolling a thousand work-related worries over in my head.
We ended the year on a strong note, delivering success metrics well above our ambitious goals. But media and technology are changing quickly (so much so, it occurred to me, "Mister Rogers & Me" risks looking quaint by the time it finally premieres). In the final days of the year, I ran the department through an outline of our 2010 strategy. Last year, it was "More, Shorter, Faster, Smarter." This ...
Up In The Air
I accrued 49,000 AAdvantage miles this year. Not Ryan Bingham numbers, to be sure. But enough to get myself to Puerto Rico and back (if I could only find available departure dates).
His is a familiar world: the poetic geometry of the Midwest from 30,000 feet, the satisfaction of finding one's name on the Hertz Gold board, the comforting uniformity of Starwood hotel rooms Admirals Clubs everywhere.
Sure, I loathe take-offs (though I get by with a little help from my friend, Xanax), but I love flying. I love the anonymity, the ...
Mazel Tov!
Way back in 2000, my then-boss foisted an interview on me with a recent college graduate named Jonathan.
"Trust me," he said. "This guy's cover letter was so over the top, you're gonna' love him."
I won't front; I was dubious. But sure enough, the kid had moxie. So we hired him. In his first month, he asked Britney Spears to spit out her gum, and suggested Godsmack's Sully Erna to take off his baseball cap. He's had me over to Passover Seder twice, shot and directed my music videos, and been a terrific friend.
In 2004, I ...
Goodnight, L.A.
The American Airlines Admiral's Club is actually kinda' rockin' right now. I'm gonna' put occupancy at 74%. And I'm also gonna' bet half of those are on my midnight red eye.
A guy in a brown sweater and wire-framed glasses just ladelled some Ranch Dressing onto a plastic cup of carrots and celery. A woman in a black Ed Hardy wife beater stepped to the bar. And the fella' next to me just emptied his mini-magnum of champagne. Me, I'm tearing through a Sam Adams; all the better for sleeping, you see.
And so concludes another thirty-six ...
Ok
Last Monday afternoon, some 24 hours after my record-setting (well, my record, anyway) New York City Marathon finish, I settled into the massage table for my annual deep-tissue rub down.
My masseuse, Elana, was strong, driving her elbows deep into my hamstrings and calves. Somewhere between my shoulder blades, just before gingerly flipping me over, she hit a soft spot that set my nose running like a faucet. By Tuesday morning, my throat was sore. By Wednesday morning, I had a full-on head cold.
I slid sluggishly into the weekend ...
This Is It (This Is Really Happening)
All the way from JFK to LAX (the part I was awake, anyway), all I could hear was the voice of Ryan Adams screaming in my ears.
"Don't waste my time; this is it! This is really happening!!! This is really happening!!!"
My brain was on the right lyric, but the alt-country singer/songwriter's seminal 2003 single, "This Is It," was the wrong track. This week, anyway, Michael Jackson owns the phrase. Hence my 5,922-mile, 34-hour trip to the red carpet premiere of "Michael Jackson: This Is It."
You've read my musings on life within ...
Actual Email, Vol. II
Last year, my department was slashed in half. We responded by setting a new strategy and impossibly steap but completely attainable goals. Keeping on target called for daily vigilance, and more than one speech invoking Presidents Obama and Kennedy (not all at once!), Bob Dylan, Bono and even Internet visionary Clay Shirky.
We'd done a terrific job reaching our lofty goals until August when a lack of news and an absence of kids at their computers created something of a drought. We need something new to push us over the edge: a kick-ass ...
That Dust Cloud Disappears Without A Trace
Yesterday morning at 11:27 I Tweeted, "Noon meeting. Two o'clock flight. Nine o'clock U2 show. Bets, anyone?"
At the time, I wouldn't have wagered even a gentleman's handshake; the communique derived from Overland Park, Kansas, some 1,201 miles west of Giant's Stadium.
Too many moving parts were in play, not the least of which an airplane. Worse, my noon meeting was over thirty miles south of KCI Airport. So I stacked the deck.
First, I booked a car service, and had the Towncar poised just steps from the corporate headquarters in ...
The Perfect Compliment
When I first moved to New York City, my bets were placed equally between writing for and being on the cover of Rolling Stone Magazine. The same could have been said of The New York Times, or MTV.
Yeah, I probably should have checked the odds. But we're talking 1995 here. I was 24-years-old. I hadn't read "The Spectator Bird" yet.
Well, you sort of know how it's turned out.
I wrote for Rolling Stone Online for almost a year, interviewing Ben Folds, Ani DiFranco and Matthew Sweet at their respective zeniths. I've yet to grace its ...
