This Saturday, April 22, the Earth will be 4.543 billion years old (give or take a few eons). And Earth Day, the annual celebration honoring Mother Earth and all the humans, plants and animals who populate the 3rd planet from the Sun, will celebrate its 47th Birthday.
At first, I thought it might be cool to celebrate the Earth’s Birthday this Saturday. But once we put 4 1/2 billion candles on a cake for Mother Earth, we realized what flaming idiots we were.
So, once cooler heads reigned, we decided it made more sense to wish Earth Day a Happy Birthday. And while I hate to brag (while I’m sleeping, anyway), there was no more appropriate person to authenticate that Happy Birthday wish to Earth Day participants than I. After all, I was once the Head of the Earth, I launched International Earth Day, and I can prove it!
“What?” you say. “That’s impossible!” You doubt there ever was a Head of the Earth! Well, it’s true.
As longtime Readers of my blog will attest, every year I explain how I was actually the Head of the Earth in 1972. I’m not claiming to have originated Earth Day. The initial celebration of the environment and planet Earth began in 1970, two years before I launched International Earth Day.
The idea for a national day to focus on the environment came to Earth Day founder Gaylord Nelson, then a U.S. Senator from Wisconsin, after witnessing the ravages of the 1969 massive oil spill in Santa Barbara, California. Inspired by the student anti-war movement, he realized that if he could infuse that energy with an emerging public consciousness about air and water pollution, it would force environmental protection onto the national political agenda. So on April 22, 1970, he launched Earth Day.
STAN: Did you see that?
HARRIET: See what?
STAN: That entire last paragraph, the one right above us. Goldman, the blogger, stole it from Wikipedia.
HARRIET: First of all Stan, the originator of this blog’s name is Goldenberg, Jack Goldenberg.
STAN: Yeah, whatever.
HARRIET: And Jack didn’t steal it from Wikipedia. He “borrowed” it from a different web site, The History of Earth Day. And there’s no harm in that. After all, Jack is a Copy-Writer!
HARRIET: But look, Stan, I’ve warned you time and again not to say terrible things about Jack. After all, you’re imaginary and Jack writes everything you say. Let him continue. Or he’s liable to kick us both off the blog. Then, the only place that’ll hire us will be The O’Reilley Factor on Fox News.
STAN: Didn’t they just just shut down?
HARRIET: Now you’re catching on!
Sorry, Readers. Where was I? Oh yeah, by 1972, two years after the original Earth Day, interest in helping the environment started to wain. So I had business cards printed that gave me the title, Head of the Earth, and I launched International Earth Day.
Wait, I see one of my Readers has his hand raised. Yes?
GEN Z READER #1: Question. What’s a business card?
ME: It’s a card that announces to a person you meet, your name, title, company, and other contact information.
GEN Z READER #2: So it announces that stuff electronically?
ME: Oh, no. On paper.
GEN Z READER #3: What’s paper?
ME: Thin slices of non-digital material manufactured from the pulp of wood or other fibrous substances.
I looked around the blog to see if anyone else had any more questions. But by then, everyone’s heads were buried back in their smart phones. (Not bad, I thought to myself. I had their attention for almost 3 seconds.) Then I saw one of my Readers reluctantly raise his hand.
BABY BOOMER: I have a question, too.
ME: Did you want to know what Gen Z is?
BABY BOOMER: No, I wanted to know what time dinner is and where’s the men’s room?
ME: Sorry, there are no rest rooms on blogs.
BABY BOOMER: And dinner?
ME: Four PM.
BABY BOOMER: Half price?
BABY BOOMER: Cool.
As I was saying, by 1972 many people were already getting tired of hearing about the environment. But I figured we still had a lot to do to tidy up the planet. So, I did the only thing a sane, sensible and caring person would do. I appointed myself Head of the Earth and announced my title and the launch of International Earth Day to the press.
You might question who gave me the authority to become Head of the Earth. Well, the position was open. And there were no other applicants. Besides, I was young and figured it would look great on my resume.
Next I carefully studied the field to learn all I could about the Earth, endangered species, plant life, pollution, green marketing, carbon cycles, population control, water and energy conservation, recycling and the myriad efforts needed to Save Our Planet.
An hour later, I started to work on business cards and stationery for my new company, Earthday.
While I joke about my accomplishments now, in 1972, I was serious about helping Mother Earth. I produced ads and got local papers to run them FREE as a public service. One of my favorite ads was “The Earth is a Mother.”
I got radio stations across the country to tell listeners “The 100 Things You Can Do to Save Planet Earth.” I convinced governors to announce Earth Day proclamations, citizen groups to hold Earth Day Awareness Rallies and I even got The Today Show to interview an expert on the continued importance of the environment.
My Earthday stationary was on recycled paper, so they must have figured I was for real. My biggest accomplishment was getting the support of the United Nations. Imagine getting the UN to do anything today! I remember my first phone call from someone who worked in PR at the U.N. It went something like this:
“This is Whitman Bassow. I’m in Communications at the United Nations?”
“Yes, how can I help you?” I said.
“I understand you’re running an environmental campaign for the planet and that you’re the Head of the Earth,” he said.
“Yes. Both those statements are true.”
“Well, if you’re Head of the Earth, I think we should meet,” Mr. Bassow said, laughing a little, with me, not at me. “How soon can you come by?”
I can understand why you might not believe this actually happened. But I still have the permission letter from the U.N. to prove it.
The U.N. gave me their full support. They gave me permission to use the U.N. name, logo and slogan from their “Only One Earth” Conference on my “Tickets of Admission to the Earth.” I wanted to charge people for coming to the Earth on Earth Day. A dollar for adults. 50¢ for children 12 and under.
As I saw it, while it wasn’t mandatory to have an Earth Ticket to show up on Earth on April 22, 1972, but it sure would be a nice gesture. And a cool way to donate to important environmental causes like Friends of the Earth. Friends of the Animals and The Wilderness Society.
Was my campaign for International Earth Day successful? Well, yes and no. The Earth is still here and the once-a-year fervor to care for Mother Earth has been institutionalized, commercialized and co-opted by big business all over the world. And that’s a good thing. But it’s a shame the Environmental Protect Agency is doing all it can to ignore planet Earth and accelerate climate change, rather than offering an all-important defense against it.
Still, activists all of the world will celebrate Earth Day tomorrow on Saturday, April 22, not because of what I did, but because of what Gaylord Nelson did when he launched the original Earth Day.
As the former Head of the Earth, the least I can do is bring the Happy Birthday Earth Day cake.
The Happy Birthday Earth Day cake is a reminder to protagonists and Earth lovers everywhere to Follow the 6 “R’s”: Reduce. Recycle. Reuse. Restore. And Replenish. Five of the 6 R’s are on the cake. I’ll add the 6th R, #Resist, and remind the US Government and the EPA that where the Earth is concerned, “You can’t have your cake and eat it, too!” After all, the Earth is a mother. And so is Scott Pruitt, just not in the same way.
A few years later, I wanted to proclaim myself “Master of the Universe.” But some damn toy company beat me to it.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. If you enjoyed today’s blog, learned something, laughed a little and are motivated to do something, anything for planet Earth, I hope you’ll sign up to receive my sometimes monthly blogs (see the top right on the blog’s Home Page) Next time, we’ll be blogging about the single best place to visit this summer, how to buy a new TV and any other brilliant ideas or stories that come to mind.
You can’t see the cast he’s wearing. You can’t imagine the pain he must be experiencing. But when Andy Karl went onstage opening night as the lead actor in the new Broadway soon-to-be smash musical, “Groundhog Day,” he was wearing a painful cast.
Seventy two hours earlier, Andy Karl tore his anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) and doctors thought he might never walk again. But with true “the show must go on” mentality, his knee was drained (ouch), he underwent some excruciating physical therapy (more pain), he got a shot of cortisone, and he performed hours of re-rehearsal. Then, Monday night, opening night, Andy Karl gave the comeback performance of his lifetime.
After the curtain call and standing ovation, Karl thrust his hands triumphantly in the air and with only two words described how he snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. “Champions adjust,” he yelled over the applause of an astonished and appreciative theater crowd.
Although the line “Champions adjust,” was originally ascribed to tennis pro Billie Jean King, both professionals join a long line of “failures” who refused to accept defeat as something permanent. Abe Lincoln lost 8 elections. Stephen King submitted Carrie to 30 publishers. Walt Disney was fired as a newspaper editor because he was told he, “lacked imagination and had no good ideas.” Baltimore Colts Hall of Fame quarterback Johnny Unitas was turned down by several pro teams by scouts and coaches who agreed, “You’re too scrawny to make it in the big leagues.”
STAN: See, Harriet, there is hope for me. I’ve failed at just about everything. I’ve had eleven marriages. More than 5 failed businesses. Been fired more times than I can remember. I’m a lousy father. Untrustable friend. I’m not honest. I don’t “pay it forward.” I’m not a nice guy. And to top it all off, I’m forced to appear on this crummy blog. But one day, I know I’ll be a star.
HARRIET: I hate to burst your bubble, Stan, but there is no hope for you. You’re destined to remain a total failure for the rest of your life.
STAN: Hah! Just as I suspected. I knew I could succeed at something!
The bottom line for you, my Readers is that if you find yourself on the floor, at the seeming end of your patience, about to give up because you believe all hope is gone, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and get back to what you were trying to accomplish.
After all, champions adjust.
That’s all for today, my loyal 20,000 Readers. If you’re a current Reader, you’ll be invited back on Friday when we present our annual tribute to Earth Day from none other than the former Head of the Earth. If this is your first time here…
STAN: …Get out as out as quick as you can, folks! Scram! And never look back. Goldberg..
HARRIET: His name is Goldenberg, Stan. Jack Goldenberg.
STAN: Whatever. My advice remains. There is only redeeming thing on this blog and that is me, STAN the MAN. Goldman is a boring and useless writer. And he never shuts up. This blog wouldn’t have anywhere near 20,000 Readers if it weren’t for my good looks and suave style.
HARRIET: All right, Stan, that’s quite enough. You seem to forget that you’re imaginary and Jack writes everything you say.
STAN: Fake news, Harriet. Fake news!
Where was I? Oh yeah, if this is your first time reading 10 Minutes of Business, sign up at the top of the blog to get notified every time we have another brilliant though. Usually just about once a month.
Right now, through Sunday, like Macy’s, we’re having a One Day Sale. We’ve reduced the price of 10 Minutes of Brilliance to FREE. It used to cost $17,000. So there’s been a better time to save.
We cover marketing, metaphysics, pop culture, technology, the Future, politics, How to Be a Human, how to save money, humor and anything brilliant (or incredibly stupid) that we think you should know about.
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HARRIET: It’s over now. Jack’s blog is done for today. So, say Goodnight, Stan.
STAN: Goodnight, Stan
HARRIET: You know what, Stan? You’re a freakin’ moron!
STAN: Don’t try to warm up to me, Harriet. We’re still not having sex!
HARRIET: You can say that again.
STAN: I’m not falling for that one!
In commercials, humor sells. But no matter how funny a commercial is, if you remember the spot, but not the product, #fail! That’s what makes the commercial for Hello Flo period supplies so brilliant.
It’s not easy to write a funny commercial about what it’s like for a preteen to get her first period. Or to sell a line to your client that concludes, “Do you know how hard it is to find a uterus piñata?”
It’s even more difficult to make it seem tasteful when the pre-teen’s Dad jumps out of a cake dressed as (sorry team) menstrual flow.
And when you name your product for menstrual supplies “Hello Flo,” you’re just asking for some dimwit to reject it.
But they made it. The client bought it. And now you get to enjoy it.
As my longtime Readers know. I am the Head of the Earth. I’ve been The Undisputed Head of the Earth since I launched International Earth Day in 1972 (two years after the first Earth Day.). But what may surprise my reading audience is that I am also the Head of my Household.
That’s right. I make All the Decisions around Here!
I know I’m Head of the Household because the other night I checked with “Sir” while she was sleeping. Soundly. And I didn’t just mumble, “I run things around here, right?” I screamed it. In a whisper. In my garage. And no one, I repeat, no one, disputed it.
So don’t think for a second that because I call my wife “Sir,” this somehow seems to imply I’m just a hired hand. In fact, I only call Sir “Sir” sometimes. I also use the terms Your Royal Eminence, Supreme Leader, Il Duce (if we’re at an Italian restaurant), the President of the United Homefront and also the Exalted Ruler and Head Hocho Solely Qualified to Find Me at Fault for Even Breathing the Wrong Way.
So Sunday morning when my wife asked me to help her fold our comforter into the duvet, I didn’t just jump to attention and do it.
Instead, I jumped to attention and pleaded, “What’s the Hell’s a duvet?”
Now if you’re a man reading this, or a young impressionable boy, I would suggest you go on to the next topic. There’s nothing for you to see here, so move along. You do not need to know what a duvet is. Ever.
STAN: Am I sensing a pattern here?
HARRIET: Whaddya’ mean?
STAN: Goldenberger’s first two stories were about…
STAN: Oh, so nothing. Hey, look, Harriet. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a member of the movement, sister. I support chick’s rights.
HARRIET: How liberated of you, Stan. You’re about as enlightened as the Trump White House.
STAN: Thanks, Harriet. I appreciate the compliment.
Duvets are strictly a female thing. Like scrapbooking, toile (don’t even ask) and Always Being Right. Thes are strictly topics under discussion for double X chromosome individuals.
Trust me. Duvets won’t even be on the Final.
That’s just one of the many differences between Men and our Supreme Rulers.
Take sex. Women don’t want to have sex unless they’re in the mood. For men, they only have to be in the room.
Women are also smarter than men. The proof? Women are always right. Men are almost always wrong. They only time a man is right and a woman is wrong is on purely male topics like TV, beer and sweating. And we’re probably close to being wrong about those topics pretty soon.
No matter how hard men try to be a fair and equal partner, women can always find something, now matter how arcane, to chip away at our self-confidence.
Let’s say you’re a man who has truly evolved past the “Hey, I take out the garbage, don’t I?” stage. And let’s say you genuinely share responsibilities as much as possible. Still, it will never ever be good enough.
Women have taken a secret pact to uphold their Right to be Right At All Times.
They’ll catch you on some technicality you didn’t even know existed. If they send you to the store for cream, you should have known they meant sour cream. “You bought pasteurized? I said fermented.”
And don’t even think about buying comfortable shoes for them. They don’t exist!
Theory pants size zero? How could they even make a size zero? Who wears them? Leprechauns?
They have an unforgiving memory. They never forget any mistake, misbehavior, misdeed, errant glance or chore not done. Recently, after a particularly long day of helping Sir stuff the duvet in a cover, return used cosmetics and shop for a Coach pocketbook (on sale), Sir turned to me and said, “You forgot to wipe off the picnic table last August.”
Guilty, as charged.
STAN: Goldbaum still didn’t tell us what a duvet is.
HARRIET: A duvet is a type of bedding that is a soft flat bag filled with down, feathers, wool, or a synthetic alternative. It is protected with a duvet cover.
HARRIET: Here, I’ll show you the duvet Jack was talking about.
We’re launching a new feature here at 10 Minutes of Brilliance. Every blog, we’ll ask and answer 4 burning questions (not necessarily about fire) that our Readers want to know. And on Passover, who knows, maybe we will ask those 4 questions. Let’s begin.
Q. What are the odds of getting sushi when you order sushi in Los Angeles?
A. Not so good. Seafood fraud is rampant in LA sushi restaurants. Recent research from Loyola Marymount University and UCLA has shown nearly half of all types of fish sold in Los Angeles sushi restaurants may be mislabeled. Despite strong truth-in-menu laws, getting sushi when your order it in an LA sushi restaurant is becoming increasingly difficult. Smells fishy to me.
Q. A Reader names STAN asks, “In baseball, has anyone ever won Rookie of the Year two years in a row?”
A. OK, that’s just a stupid question and we’re not even going to answer it. Next.
Q. Why isn’t there a Betty Rubble Flintstones Multivitamin?
A. The vicious rumor that presidential advisor Steve Bannon has been spreading that Betty’s shape was impossible to recreate in a Flintstones Multivitamin is false. Wilma, Fred, Barney, Pebbles, Bam Bam and Dino all have Flintstones Vitamins. Even the Flintmobile was immortalized as a vitamin. But in market research tests, Betty Rubble was too unpopular to be Vitaminized.
Q. What’s the 4th question?
A. You just asked it.
Back when we used to communicate by using lead encased in wood to write on thinly sliced pieces of trees, spelling something was a valuable social skill. Now that we’ve been electronically tweeting and texting as a means of communication, pencils and paper have become obsolete. And it was a triple murder because Spelling has also met an untimely death.
And leading the charge of misspelled words and communication has been none other than The Speler in Chief, Donald J. Trump.
Last week when the Trump White House released a memorandum on “The 78 terror attacks ignored by the press” (NOT TRUE!) , they misspelled the word attack and attackers 27 times! And that’s no typeoh!
The morning after his inauguration, Trump tweeted that was “honered to serve you, the great American People, as your 45th President of the United States!” Jenny Starrs of The Washington Post wrote, “The honer is all ours, sir — just as it was exactly a year ago when you tweeted: “Every poll said I won the debate last night (NOT TRUE!) . Great honer!”
I guess in a Trump Bannon World where Up is Down, Lies are Truth, Fake News is Real, and Science is Unproven, I shouldn’t feel bad about a few misspellings and grammar. But I does.
That’s it for today, Readers. As always, I appreciate your stopping by. At one point, 24,000 people read this blog, but we were concerned some of them weren’t real people. They were bots and spam and other nefarious “individuals.” So we’ve eliminated all but a couple hundred Real Subscribers.
Since it was impossible to tell real Readers from fake ones, we may have mistakenly cut you off our Subscriber’s List. If you received this blog because you got an email from us, your Subscription in intact. If not and you’d like to continue to follow my adventures and stories online, I hope you’ll sign up again at the top of this blog. We expect some new characters to join 10 Minutes of Brilliance. I’m auditioning new characters to possibly replace Stan.
STAN: I don’t think so, Goldman,. Without me, no one would read this stinkin’ blog!
All right, now that’s enough. Say Goodbye Stan
STAN: Goodbye, Stan.
What a well behaved figment of my imagination he is.
Here are today’s topics: 1. Breaking News! Why I met with Kellyanne Conway 2. Yuri Gridniev’s First American Logo 3. Seven Places You Won’t Find on Google Maps 4. Headlines Written by Headless Headline Writers
STAN: Oh, no! Liar, liar, pants on fire. Goldman’s trousers are aflame! Again!
HARRIET: Stan, what in the blazes are you talking about?
STAN: The headline, Harriet! Goldman lied. He claims he met with KellyAnne Conway, Trump’s top advisor. There’s no way on Earth Goldman met with her.
HARRIET: Goldman, Stan? Goldman? The guy who writes this blog’s name is Goldenberg. Jack Goldennberg. You know that Stan! I’ve told you that for seven years. Goldman, I mean Goldenberg, created you. You’re not real. The least you can do is get his name right.
STAN: Yeah, the least Goldfarber can do is to tell the truth. I bet the picture below was faked.
HARRIET: Well, I’m sure if Jack said he met with Kellyanne Conway, he really did. Oh, he stretches the truth a little. But he never lies. Let’s see how he explains this one.
STAN: I’m not holding my breath.
HARRIET: Good idea, Stan. You don’t have any breath. You’re not real, remember?
STAN: Oh, yeah, right. I forgot.
HARRIET: Shhh. Here come Jack now.
Hey, Readers, sorry I was late. Usually, I look forward to writing blogs. Not this time. Posting anything about Kellyanne Conway and Donald Trump is akin to a death wish on the Internet. I know I’ll be criticized from both sides of the political aisle.
The Left will castigate me for consorting with the Enemy.
The Right will find fault with my views because there’s no way I could write about living under Presidents Bannon and Trump ) without lamenting the loss of truth, justice and the American way. (Where’s Dick Cheney when we need him?)
With America as polarized now as it was during the Civil War, it’s hard to imagine any idea that would be championed by Republicans, Democrats and Independents.
But I thought I just might have an idea to help a select group of American–Veterans–that everyone could agree on.
So in December after the insurrection, I mean, the election, I worked my way past armed police, the National Guard, the Secret Service, the metal detector and the doorman at Trump Tower with the singular goal of giving Kellyanne Conway an idea I had that has the potential to raise $2 billion for Veterans.
I knew the odds of even seeing Kellyanne Conway were pretty slim. And even if I caught a glimpse of her at Trump Tower, I probably wouldn’t get close enough to hand her an envelope on which I had described my idea.
I chose to help Veterans with my $2 billion idea for two reasons. Ever since the Viet Nam War, we’ve treated the men and women who fight to keep us safe very poorly. Every President promises to give them better care, but no president since Eisenhower has delivered on that promise.
I also wanted to help Veterans because I thought my idea might get bipartisan support. Pick a topic, almost any topic, and you’ll find as much opposition as support. But supporting Veterans is a cause all Americans could wrap their arms around and support.
I didn’t have too much trouble talking my way into Trump Tower (what a ruse, I said I was going to Starbucks). Then I positioned myself with a couple dozen members of the media. In the media scrum were cameramen and reporters from CNN, the NY Times, the Wall Street Journal, Fox News, Reuters, and me. From 10 Minutes of Brilliance.
I waited with the national and international press for about an hour before the woman who will always be remembered for coining the phrase ‘Alternate Facts” descended down the elevator from the penthouse.
As the media fired up their cameras, I walked under some protective ropes and approached Kellyanne. “I have an idea that can raise $2 billion for Veterans,” I said.
“Terrific, I’d love to hear it,” said Kellyanne.
“Well, I wrote it up here,” I said, handling her an Einstein da Vinci and Goldenberg envelope.
“Great, I’ll read it and have someone get back to you.”
I took a photo with Kellyanne and started to walk away when she noticed my Hillary for President watch. “Where’d you get that?”
I had already told her in our brief “meeting” that I made Obama and Hillary watches, but I certainly understand she was more concerned with presenting the next foreign head of state to President-elect Trump than in specifics about the election memorabilia I’ve created.
So I just said, “I make ’em. Would you like one?”
“I would,” she said. “That’s very gracious of you.”
She thanked me, then disappeared into the elevator escorting the Prime Minister of Who Knows Where upstairs.
Now, I know she might have gotten on the elevator, turned to a Secret Service Agent, and handed him the Hillary for President watch and said, “Here. Blow this up!”
Or, she might have shown the watch to Donald Trump and the two of them had a great laugh at Hillary’s expense.
But, I prefer my own version. In the video that’s rolling around in my head, Kellyanne takes the watch and stashes in under her pillow when she get back to wherever she is living.
Then, late at night, when she knows no one is around, she secretly takes it out and looks at it with a flashlight under her covers thinking, “Damn, Hillary. Why couldn’t you have won? My life would have been so much easier.”
Note to Readers: In my next blog, I’ll describe my idea of how to raise $2 billion for Veterans. And what Kellyanne’s response was
Imagine you decided to move to a New Country tomorrow. Like Botswana. Or Papua New Guinea. Or some country with such a weird name you couldn’t even pronounce it. Like Canada.
All right, maybe not Canada, but you get the picture.
Everything would be New to You. Foreign. Strange. The food, the money, the people, the customs, the TV programs, the jokes, the songs, the housing. The whole kit and the kaboodle.
All right, maybe not the kaboodle.
If you read a recent 10 Minutes of Brilliance blog (and you should have, damn it!), you’d know I described what Life was like for my friend Yuri Gridniev when he moved to the US a little over a month ago from his native country, the Ukraine.
Yuri came to America two days before Christmas with wife, Olena, and one of his sons, 9-year old Bogdan. Pretty much all he packed for his new adventure in America was a Suitcase full of Dreams.
It took him years to get his Green Cards approved for three members of his family and still he had leave his other son, Vitaly, home in Kiev.
So what would you do to live and prosper in a strange new world?
Well, if you had the courage, determination and a “This Is My Dream and I’m Gonna Make It Happen” attitude like Yuri, you’d do anything and everything you had to do just to keep one half step ahead of tomorrow.
STAN: You’d think Goldenwasser could write something positive about his friend Yuri’s new life in America. His tales are so dystopian ( Look it up, Readers!)
HARRIET: Not at all, Stan. I know Jack. His stories usually have a positive ending. Just wait
Yuri came to America to be an Art Director/Creative Director, the same job he had back home. (Note: The job of Importer/Exporter was already held by Art Vanderlay, aka George Costanza.)
Before I tell you everything Yuri had to go through to get his first paid project in his new country, I wanted to show you the logo he created for his first American client, The Actors Hall of Fame. The Actors Hall of Fame promotes the dramatic arts in schools and they are involved in many other programs, like producing Shakespeare for the huge Chinese and world movie audiences and inducting top actors in the Hall of Fame.
KUDOS! is a global ‘review’ aggregator, sort of like Rotten Tomatoes or the critics’ section of Fandango, but with a difference. Instead of having the public or critics review entertainment, KUDOS! reviewers are the professionals involved in those entertainment genres, anyone directly involved with movies, TV or theatre.
The Actors Hall of Fame was thrilled with Yuri’s logo and honored that it was the first one he produced for an American audience. They plan to use his talent again the next time an opportunity presents itself. Recruiters who want to contact Yuri can click here: Yuri Gridniev
A number of Readers contacted me about how Yuri was faring on his first month and a half in America. So here’s an abbreviated list of some of the things Yuri has had to conquer, endure and, in some cases, enjoy on his first month and a half on our shores:
First flight across the Atlantic.
First greetings, “Welcome to America!”
First unforgettable impressions.
First talks with American people at the airport.
First American photos.
First very expensive taxi from Kennedy International to the hotel in Newark. The driver ripped him off, overcharging for tolls.
First search for and use of an ATM to get cash. The hotel wouldn’t honor his foreign Visa credit card.
First expensive payment to stay at the hotel for his first night in America.
First night NOT sleeping at his hotel. (Beds probably imported from the Soviet gulag.)
First night at the hotel without supper. (Trust me. You would have eaten there either.)
First meeting with an American friend (the handsome, affable and brilliant Jack Goldenberg)
STAN: OK, now I know Goldberger wrote that.
First American breakfast–pancakes and smoothies (two of the four food groups!)
First gift from an American–an American flag for Bogdan.
First gift to an American. The Gridniev’s brought me a gift from their home country. A Ukranian bulova, the symbol of potent Ukrainian power.
First time Yuri saw his wife cry in America. The Ukrainian bulova survived the 4,400 mile journey only to fall out of the bag and break on the way to the elevator.
First promise Yuri’s wife made to an American. “I promise to get you another.”
First American lunch. Now I know lunch doesn’t sound like such a big deal–even in a foreign county. It was just lunch, right? But what if your whole life you ate lunches of Potato Varenyky, Cabbage Borscht, and Holubtsi. Would you really be that happy with something called BLT?
First excursions in a friend’s car.
First visit to an American Bank.
First rejection by an American bank.
Success! First American bank account and debit card.
First buying of a US sim card.
First meetings with his relatives by skype.
First time renting a decent hotel room.
First American Christmas.
First American television channels.
First family walks near the hotel.
First American headache. Searching for long term rental.
Surviving first strange American shock. Yikes! Every rental place closed Christmas Eve.
Second strange American shock. Every place closed on Christmas Day. No problem. Yuri will just visit the rental office on Monday.
Third straight American shock. Offices closed on holiday Sundays aren’t open on Monday.
First difficult issues with his credit history, social security cards,green cards, jobs, and cosigners.
First new American friends.
First look on the Statue of Liberty, from afar.
First Metro card.
First trip by Path to the New York City and Manhattan.
First 2 nights on the friend’s yacht.
First sick and searching for pharmacy.
First impressions and experience on how to be a sea wolf. (OK, I’m not positive, but I have the feeling Yuri made this up just to goof on me.)
First house for the long term living.
First International New Year in America celebrated with international traditions from Ukraine, Russia, Belarus, Great Britain, China, and the Dominican Republic.
First favorable things: electric kettle, microwave, and a fridge.
First trip by using GPS to NYC.
First job interview in New York City.
First visit to Baskin Robbins cafe. (Jeez, what must food be like in the Ukraine if Yuri is calling Baskin Robbins a “cafe?”
First Starbucks coffee.
First obstacle to entering his son to American school school.
First tests to enroll his son in an American school, successfully passed with his strong English results.
First buying of school uniform and stationery.
First meeting with a school principal and first teachers.
First American homework for his son.
First search for English Lessons for his wife.
First job search training with highly skilled Career Advisors.
First business lunch in New York City.
First BIG break in America. Yuri gets hired to do a logo for the prestigious Actors Hall of Fame.
Google Maps is an indispensable tool for getting from HERE to THERE. One complaint besides the misdirections, it’s very hard to fold up and put it in your glove compartment.
But for all places Google Maps can take you, there are a number of places you won’t find on Google Maps. Here are a few of them.
The technology that ushered in the Internet was called ARPANET, an academic research project funded by the Advanced Research Projects Agency. Curiously, this branch of the military funded ambitious research projects that didn’t have any immediate commercial or military applications. The network only connected the University of Utah with three research centers in California.
Sometimes people with no heads write headlines. Hey, it happens. (Sometimes they’re even elected President!) These headlines were borrowed from Boomspeak, an ingeniously clever and well-written site for Baby Boomers written by Baby Boomers. Boomspeak is one of the only blogs I read. Heck, sometimes I don’t even read my own blog.
STAN: Well, that’s pretty obvious from all of the typos.
Here’s are real headlines courtesy of Boomspeak:
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