A Touching Family Moment
The scene: A BestBuy in Salem, New Hampshire the day before Thanksgiving. A father and son walk to the cashier holding a Guitar Hero set-up.
Father: "I never wanted kids. You were an accident and now you're nothing more than a financial burden."
Son: "Uh... thanks Dad."
Monday, November 26, 2007
Stateside
It's about 11:30 AM here in Newburyport, MA and I'm enjoying my last few hours of "home" for awhile. It's been good to be back. It's been refreshing.
And I don't want to leave.
Soon enough, I'll be heading down to Boston and the fun of an international flight out of lovely Logan. Back to Europe. Back to the rain, the cold, and the boredom of Ireland.
No, I really don't want to leave.
In some ways, it's kind of strange, really. I never knew how much I enjoyed living in the states until I didn't live here anymore. I guess that's always the case, but still, it's always interesting to have that hammered home.
I spent a good portion of the week with family and friends I haven't seen in months. It was great to catch up and to feel like I was part of their lives again. To see how their kids have grown. The changes they've made to their homes. Their physiques. Everything.
Of course, each conversation turned back to me at some point. More specifically, the conversations turned back to my future. "How long are you staying in Dublin?" "What are you going to do?" "What do you want to do?" "Where do you want to live?" Good questions all. Now, if I just had the answers.
In truth, about the only question I can answer with any sort of certainty is the first one. At this point, I'm figuring my expat days are winding down. Not soon, but probably within the year. My current contract still has some life left in it and we'll see what kind of offer I get - if I get any at all - to extend. My guess is that I'll be offered an opportunity to stay on, but honestly, I don't know that I'd accept. It's not that I don't like my job or the people I work with. I do. It's just that I really don't like Dublin.
When all is said and done, my guess is that my desire to return home will trump my desire to keep doing what I'm doing. It's sad, in some respects, but that's the hard truth of the matter.
I'm not necessarily one to do a lot of soul searching or planning about my future. I know what I like to do. I generally know what I want to do, and I sort of let things lead me where they will. After grad school, I ended up with an amazing gig at CBS News in New York at the ripe old age of 24. Nearly six years later, the call of the West led me to walk away from the news room for the last time with nothing more than some savings and a plan to pursue a career in the entertainment industry.
That didn't work out, but somewhere along the way, I made my way to Silicon Valley and fell into the high-tech world. After some time in the consulting world and at a few failed start-ups, I landed in the comforting arms of Intuit where I put my varied background to work on Quicken.com until the Internet bubble burst and my job vanished into the ether. So it goes.
After making my way back to LA and losing a year to illness, I found myself selling Mini Coopers to make ends meet. Sure, it's not the gig I planned on or hoped for, but I love cars and it was paying the bills until something better came along. Which it did. Out of the blue.
A phone call and a few interviews later, I found myself writing again. About poker, which is something I love. With a group of really bright and dedicated people who want nothing more than to create the best online poker site anywhere.
Now, I'm planning on returning to Ireland, which is somewhere I never expected to live. Sure, I'm not thrilled about the trip, but the fact that I'm heading back to the Emerald Isle is sort of amusing to me since I never had any thoughts of living there in the first place. Like I said, I don't really plan. I just let life take me where it will.
Where will it take me next? Aside from back to the United States, I have no idea. Check this space over the next few months and maybe we'll figure that out together.
It's about 11:30 AM here in Newburyport, MA and I'm enjoying my last few hours of "home" for awhile. It's been good to be back. It's been refreshing.
And I don't want to leave.
Soon enough, I'll be heading down to Boston and the fun of an international flight out of lovely Logan. Back to Europe. Back to the rain, the cold, and the boredom of Ireland.
No, I really don't want to leave.
In some ways, it's kind of strange, really. I never knew how much I enjoyed living in the states until I didn't live here anymore. I guess that's always the case, but still, it's always interesting to have that hammered home.
I spent a good portion of the week with family and friends I haven't seen in months. It was great to catch up and to feel like I was part of their lives again. To see how their kids have grown. The changes they've made to their homes. Their physiques. Everything.
Of course, each conversation turned back to me at some point. More specifically, the conversations turned back to my future. "How long are you staying in Dublin?" "What are you going to do?" "What do you want to do?" "Where do you want to live?" Good questions all. Now, if I just had the answers.
In truth, about the only question I can answer with any sort of certainty is the first one. At this point, I'm figuring my expat days are winding down. Not soon, but probably within the year. My current contract still has some life left in it and we'll see what kind of offer I get - if I get any at all - to extend. My guess is that I'll be offered an opportunity to stay on, but honestly, I don't know that I'd accept. It's not that I don't like my job or the people I work with. I do. It's just that I really don't like Dublin.
When all is said and done, my guess is that my desire to return home will trump my desire to keep doing what I'm doing. It's sad, in some respects, but that's the hard truth of the matter.
I'm not necessarily one to do a lot of soul searching or planning about my future. I know what I like to do. I generally know what I want to do, and I sort of let things lead me where they will. After grad school, I ended up with an amazing gig at CBS News in New York at the ripe old age of 24. Nearly six years later, the call of the West led me to walk away from the news room for the last time with nothing more than some savings and a plan to pursue a career in the entertainment industry.
That didn't work out, but somewhere along the way, I made my way to Silicon Valley and fell into the high-tech world. After some time in the consulting world and at a few failed start-ups, I landed in the comforting arms of Intuit where I put my varied background to work on Quicken.com until the Internet bubble burst and my job vanished into the ether. So it goes.
After making my way back to LA and losing a year to illness, I found myself selling Mini Coopers to make ends meet. Sure, it's not the gig I planned on or hoped for, but I love cars and it was paying the bills until something better came along. Which it did. Out of the blue.
A phone call and a few interviews later, I found myself writing again. About poker, which is something I love. With a group of really bright and dedicated people who want nothing more than to create the best online poker site anywhere.
Now, I'm planning on returning to Ireland, which is somewhere I never expected to live. Sure, I'm not thrilled about the trip, but the fact that I'm heading back to the Emerald Isle is sort of amusing to me since I never had any thoughts of living there in the first place. Like I said, I don't really plan. I just let life take me where it will.
Where will it take me next? Aside from back to the United States, I have no idea. Check this space over the next few months and maybe we'll figure that out together.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Ms. Duke Goes to Washington
In case you weren't geeky enough to tune into CSPAN yesterday, here's a cool NPR story on Annie Duke's Capitol Hill appearance in support of online poker.
In case you weren't geeky enough to tune into CSPAN yesterday, here's a cool NPR story on Annie Duke's Capitol Hill appearance in support of online poker.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
It's Always Nice to Catch Up with Old Friends
Turns out, my friend Steve has been doing some blogging. Check out Reality Bites Back if you're looking for some interesting media-related content.
Turns out, my friend Steve has been doing some blogging. Check out Reality Bites Back if you're looking for some interesting media-related content.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Writer's Write
See that banner on the right? Somebody wrote that. And they got paid to do it. Sure, chances are they didn't earn as much as the writers who are currently walking picket lines in LA and in New York, but that's not the point. Or at least, that's not the whole point.
As I'm sitting here typing this - and as I sit in my office here in Dublin writing and editing all of the various material that passes across my desk - I think of my friends who are currently walking around in circles on the sidewalks and chanting to random passersby. As a WGA member (on hiatus because I'm not working in a guild-related job), I even feel a little guilty because I'm not there with them. (I am, however, in Dublin which I believe gives me the short end of the stick.)
Sure, their marching may not amount to much and most people will probably do their best to ignore them, but the fact is, people will notice what's going on as soon new episodes of their favorite TV shows fail to appear on the flickering screen in their living rooms. And as soon as those big December blockbuster movies fail to hit a theater near you. Or, in the case of most of my friends, when the evening news is brought to you by a 17-year old intern reading off the front page of the New York Times because all the writers, producers, and on-air personalities have joined the picket lines in search of better pay.
So, this is all about money, you may ask. Well... no, it's not. I'm not saying that money isn't a factor in this strike, and that the writer's don't want more of it. It is and they do. And, in my opinion, they deserve it.
My friends working in news rooms at places like CBS have all been doing so without a contract for the past three years. Sure, they've been getting paid, but they haven't seen a cost of living increase in more than 36 months, and until they hit the sidewalks, didn't expect to see one for the foreseeable future.
While the money is nice and will surely be put to good use, it's only a symptom of what these people are really striking for, which is respect. You hear it all the time at award shows and in production meetings on both coasts - actors, producers, directors, and executives talking about how everything they do begins with the written word. The script. And yet, when their TV shows, movies, and other productions begin to make money through reruns, DVDs, and online forms of distribution, they don't want to share the wealth with the people whom they consider indispensible in helping them create these hits and blockbusters.
Am I ranting? A little. But as I said at the top of this piece, writer's write. So, support the WGA in this strike so they can get back to work and do what they do best.
See that banner on the right? Somebody wrote that. And they got paid to do it. Sure, chances are they didn't earn as much as the writers who are currently walking picket lines in LA and in New York, but that's not the point. Or at least, that's not the whole point.
As I'm sitting here typing this - and as I sit in my office here in Dublin writing and editing all of the various material that passes across my desk - I think of my friends who are currently walking around in circles on the sidewalks and chanting to random passersby. As a WGA member (on hiatus because I'm not working in a guild-related job), I even feel a little guilty because I'm not there with them. (I am, however, in Dublin which I believe gives me the short end of the stick.)
Sure, their marching may not amount to much and most people will probably do their best to ignore them, but the fact is, people will notice what's going on as soon new episodes of their favorite TV shows fail to appear on the flickering screen in their living rooms. And as soon as those big December blockbuster movies fail to hit a theater near you. Or, in the case of most of my friends, when the evening news is brought to you by a 17-year old intern reading off the front page of the New York Times because all the writers, producers, and on-air personalities have joined the picket lines in search of better pay.
So, this is all about money, you may ask. Well... no, it's not. I'm not saying that money isn't a factor in this strike, and that the writer's don't want more of it. It is and they do. And, in my opinion, they deserve it.
My friends working in news rooms at places like CBS have all been doing so without a contract for the past three years. Sure, they've been getting paid, but they haven't seen a cost of living increase in more than 36 months, and until they hit the sidewalks, didn't expect to see one for the foreseeable future.
While the money is nice and will surely be put to good use, it's only a symptom of what these people are really striking for, which is respect. You hear it all the time at award shows and in production meetings on both coasts - actors, producers, directors, and executives talking about how everything they do begins with the written word. The script. And yet, when their TV shows, movies, and other productions begin to make money through reruns, DVDs, and online forms of distribution, they don't want to share the wealth with the people whom they consider indispensible in helping them create these hits and blockbusters.
Am I ranting? A little. But as I said at the top of this piece, writer's write. So, support the WGA in this strike so they can get back to work and do what they do best.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Frankfurtly Speaking
Just got home from a weekend away from Dublin. I can't tell you how good it feels to type that.
I blew out of town on Friday with some friends from work. Destination: Frankfurt, Germany.
Now, I spent a weekend in Germany not too long ago, but really didn't get to see much beyond the insides of a couple of very nice hotels and conference centers, along with a cool double-decker bus and some fun bars. It was a working weekend, but from the little I got to see of the country, I wanted to go back. Hence, Frankfurt.
I can't say this city was our first-choice destination, but the flights were cheap - as was the hotel - and getting in and out of the Rhineland couldn't really have been easier. We spent a good portion of Saturday afternoon walking around in the cold and taking in the sights. Honestly, it's not the most attractive city I've been in, but it's got an interesting mix of old and new architecture, and certainly more vibrancy than Dublin has. I'll put up a couple of pictures soon.
At night, we sampled the requisite nightlife and I believe I can safely say, a good time was had by all. That's all that really needs to be said about that - at least in a public forum.
On Sunday, we all slept in after a late night/early morning out and woke up to some pretty serious rain. After getting our shit together, we headed out for lunch and the continuation of our weekend-long Chinese poker game. We had started playing at the airport on Friday, and picked the game up again at lunch on Saturday before diving into a day-long festival of cards on Sunday.
We played at lunch. We played at the bar after lunch. We played at the airport. We played on the plane on the way home. We played at E's apartment after we got back into town. We played for the better part of 11 hours in total on Sunday. Again, a good time was had by all, even if I did end up losing a total of 80 Euro when all was said and done.
Speaking of winning and losing, I decided to play some real poker last Thursday night since I knew I wasn't heading into the office on Friday. I headed to my local casino for what I thought was the weekly 50 Euro game, only to find out it was the monthly 100 Euro tournament. Oh well, I came to play and didn't have to worry about waking up too early, so I bought in. Nearly 8 hours later, I left the table with an additional 850 in my pocket after busting out third. I probably could have won the event, but made a bad call for most of my chips and ended up on the short stack when my K-J ran into A-J. After that, I was forced to play push and pray poker, and got knocked off the table when my 10-J ran into Q-J. Oh well.
Combined with my cash game winnings from the previous weekend, I was up the better part of two grand for the week, so I'm not complaining.
Of course, it's nearly 2AM here as I type this, and I need to be up around 8 so, if I don't pack it in now, complaining is about the only thing I'll be doing tomorrow (or, more accurately, later today).
Just eight days left before I head back to the States, by the way, but who's counting?
Just got home from a weekend away from Dublin. I can't tell you how good it feels to type that.
I blew out of town on Friday with some friends from work. Destination: Frankfurt, Germany.
Now, I spent a weekend in Germany not too long ago, but really didn't get to see much beyond the insides of a couple of very nice hotels and conference centers, along with a cool double-decker bus and some fun bars. It was a working weekend, but from the little I got to see of the country, I wanted to go back. Hence, Frankfurt.
I can't say this city was our first-choice destination, but the flights were cheap - as was the hotel - and getting in and out of the Rhineland couldn't really have been easier. We spent a good portion of Saturday afternoon walking around in the cold and taking in the sights. Honestly, it's not the most attractive city I've been in, but it's got an interesting mix of old and new architecture, and certainly more vibrancy than Dublin has. I'll put up a couple of pictures soon.
At night, we sampled the requisite nightlife and I believe I can safely say, a good time was had by all. That's all that really needs to be said about that - at least in a public forum.
On Sunday, we all slept in after a late night/early morning out and woke up to some pretty serious rain. After getting our shit together, we headed out for lunch and the continuation of our weekend-long Chinese poker game. We had started playing at the airport on Friday, and picked the game up again at lunch on Saturday before diving into a day-long festival of cards on Sunday.
We played at lunch. We played at the bar after lunch. We played at the airport. We played on the plane on the way home. We played at E's apartment after we got back into town. We played for the better part of 11 hours in total on Sunday. Again, a good time was had by all, even if I did end up losing a total of 80 Euro when all was said and done.
Speaking of winning and losing, I decided to play some real poker last Thursday night since I knew I wasn't heading into the office on Friday. I headed to my local casino for what I thought was the weekly 50 Euro game, only to find out it was the monthly 100 Euro tournament. Oh well, I came to play and didn't have to worry about waking up too early, so I bought in. Nearly 8 hours later, I left the table with an additional 850 in my pocket after busting out third. I probably could have won the event, but made a bad call for most of my chips and ended up on the short stack when my K-J ran into A-J. After that, I was forced to play push and pray poker, and got knocked off the table when my 10-J ran into Q-J. Oh well.
Combined with my cash game winnings from the previous weekend, I was up the better part of two grand for the week, so I'm not complaining.
Of course, it's nearly 2AM here as I type this, and I need to be up around 8 so, if I don't pack it in now, complaining is about the only thing I'll be doing tomorrow (or, more accurately, later today).
Just eight days left before I head back to the States, by the way, but who's counting?
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