Friday, March 27, 2009

My Larry David life.

Larry David and his Curb Your Enthusiasm writers must be following me around, stealing material based on the uncomfortable and awkward trouble which seems to find only me. Here are two recent examples.

A very well known, highly awarded, advertising Creative Director is a Facebook friend of mine. Here's a screen shot of an exchange we had.



I interviewed with this guy before, and was happy he still wanted to work together.

After this interaction to the left, I explained I was now full-time, but if he really needed help, I would try to do a little work for him on the evenings or weekends. He went on to tell me I was a talented guy and that we'd do great work together, blah, blah, blah.



Moments later, we have this exchange.

To those not in the "ad biz," Gerry Graf is another high-profile Creative Director, possibly even more awarded than the guy I'm talking with here.











Then, the next day, I had to see a doctor for a fairly invasive procedure. (I'm fine, thanks asking.) It being my first time at this doctor, I was greeted with a clipboard of obligatory forms to fill out. As I flipped the papers I got to one that seemed kind of odd. Turns out it was another patient's very personal records.

I went up to the office manager who gave me the forms and complained quite harshly, telling him it didn't instill a lot of confidence in me, knowing how this office was being run. He apologized, and I went back and sat down.

Turns out he wasn't the office manager, but the physician's assistant, and was going to be assisting as things were being shoved into my body. There was an uncomfortable vibe in the room, made even more so by my paper gown which failed to fully close in the back. It was faint, but I thought I heard the music from the closing credits of Curb.

Friday, March 13, 2009

The RSVP that got away.

I was recently invited to give a lecture at The Freedom Law School, an organization that believes federal income tax is unconstitutional. So why would a group like this offer to fly me, an ad guy, all the way out to California (all expenses paid) to give a lecture? Simple, they had the wrong Jeff Greenspan.

They were looking to invite this Jeff Greenspan, the SW Regional Coordinator for Ron Paul's 2008 presidential campaign, and controversial figure in Nevada politics. (For the record, I too dig Ron Paul.) Funnily enough, I've actually met this other Jeff Greenspan. I guess these Freedom Law dudes just went to my site, jeffgreenspan.com, and emailed me from there, assuming I was him.

I made the mistake of telling them I wasn't the Greenspan they were looking for. I should have accepted the invite. I should have gone and gave the following speech:

"Hello Ladies and Gentlemen. I'm Jeff Greenspan. Thank you for having me. Everyone in this room believes we should be exempt from paying any federal income taxes. (hold for applause) So, you want to make use of the nation's highway system, live under the protection of our defense department, and take advantage of the federally funded infrastructure of our country without any contribution of your own. Basically, you want a free ride. Well, I came here with a plane ticket that you all paid for, stayed in a hotel on your dime, and enjoyed a nice daily spending budget which you all graciously provided. But, I'm not the Jeff Greenspan you're looking for. I just wanted a free ride, just like you guys want. Kinda shitty, isn't it? Thank you. Now, if you don't mind, I have an already paid for plane to catch. Good night."

I'd probably get beat up or something. So I just stayed home and curled up with my W2.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Hold please.

While on hold with my pharmacy, the Spice Girls' "Wannabe," was playing. As I was greeted with the enticing refrain of "tell me what you want, what you really really want," I thought to myself what a poignant question I was being asked, given the large amount of psychotropics sitting on the other end of the line.

What do I want, what do I really really want? Vicodin.