When you think you’ve dodged a bullet
Or gotten a free pass,
Reality taps you on the shoulder
Then bites you in the ass.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Kentosh
One of the great things about working in advertising is the fun, creative people you get to work with every day. I’ve met many remarkable writers and designers over the years. Some of the relationships ended when the job ended, some of them became dear friends.
My buddy Kentosh fell somewhere in the middle. I found out yesterday that she died.
I loved Kentosh, but we weren’t in each other’s inner circle of friends. I met her when I was in my twenties. When that job ended, we were only sporadically in touch. Happily, in the last ten years or so, new jobs, email and Facebook reconnected us. We’d do lunch or an occasional weekend get-together.
The last month or so, I noticed Kentosh wasn’t posting on Facebook. I wondered why. Her obituary in Sunday’s paper offered the explanation. She had suffered a series of strokes, starting after Christmas. I didn’t even know she’d been sick.
So Kentosh is on my mind and since I tend to write about things that are on my mind, here we are.
Her name was Karen Kentosh. All of us who worked with her back in the day called her Kentosh. I don’t know why.
Kentosh was a talented, meticulous writer and also a charming cartoonist. Her little drawings and characters always made me smile. We called her Kentosh, but I know her nickname among other friends was Toons.
Kentosh and I, along with a couple other co-workers, were founding members of an elite social group called the Hell Hogs. Hell Hog meetings convened at lunch or happy hour. This may surprise you, but the Hell Hogs were not always well behaved. We took extended lunches. We sometimes drank at lunch. We lied about birthdays so we could get free dessert. We were loud. We thought we were hysterically funny but in reality we were probably obnoxious. It was so much fun and I still have my Hell Hog badge.
In the early days, Kentosh and I decided we should quit the advertising biz and open our own bar: Tosh & Gioff’s. Sadly, plans never progressed beyond the name.
Kentosh was about ten years older than I. When we first met, I thought she was the coolest person ever. Funny. Irreverent. Daring.
As we matured, I began to also appreciate her intelligence, her passion for politics and the environment, and her compassion for others.
This past September, Kentosh, two other Hell Hogs and I tried to organize a mini reunion. It didn’t happen, and that's a shame. It would have been great to hang with Kentosh one more time.
Kentosh Self Portrait
My buddy Kentosh fell somewhere in the middle. I found out yesterday that she died.
I loved Kentosh, but we weren’t in each other’s inner circle of friends. I met her when I was in my twenties. When that job ended, we were only sporadically in touch. Happily, in the last ten years or so, new jobs, email and Facebook reconnected us. We’d do lunch or an occasional weekend get-together.
The last month or so, I noticed Kentosh wasn’t posting on Facebook. I wondered why. Her obituary in Sunday’s paper offered the explanation. She had suffered a series of strokes, starting after Christmas. I didn’t even know she’d been sick.
So Kentosh is on my mind and since I tend to write about things that are on my mind, here we are.
Her name was Karen Kentosh. All of us who worked with her back in the day called her Kentosh. I don’t know why.
Kentosh was a talented, meticulous writer and also a charming cartoonist. Her little drawings and characters always made me smile. We called her Kentosh, but I know her nickname among other friends was Toons.
Kentosh and I, along with a couple other co-workers, were founding members of an elite social group called the Hell Hogs. Hell Hog meetings convened at lunch or happy hour. This may surprise you, but the Hell Hogs were not always well behaved. We took extended lunches. We sometimes drank at lunch. We lied about birthdays so we could get free dessert. We were loud. We thought we were hysterically funny but in reality we were probably obnoxious. It was so much fun and I still have my Hell Hog badge.
In the early days, Kentosh and I decided we should quit the advertising biz and open our own bar: Tosh & Gioff’s. Sadly, plans never progressed beyond the name.
Kentosh was about ten years older than I. When we first met, I thought she was the coolest person ever. Funny. Irreverent. Daring.
As we matured, I began to also appreciate her intelligence, her passion for politics and the environment, and her compassion for others.
This past September, Kentosh, two other Hell Hogs and I tried to organize a mini reunion. It didn’t happen, and that's a shame. It would have been great to hang with Kentosh one more time.
Kentosh Self Portrait
Thursday, February 10, 2011
A.T. Disney
Last night I attended a presentation on the Appalachian Trail given by a man named Ryan who actually walked the entire Appalachian Trail. Do you know what that means? That means this man traveled from Georgia to Maine on foot. Over 2,000 miles - let me say it again – on foot.
Ryan said only 15% of people who set out to hike the entire A.T. actually manage to do so. I’m guessing the percentage of people who even consider the notion to start with is pretty small. You know why? Because it’s hard. You wouldn’t believe some of the trials and tribulations this guy had.
The A.T. is maintained by a conservancy group that paints white trail markers on trees and erects a few huts and privies along the trail. Sometimes these little camps even provide a water source. As good intentioned as the conservancy is, I’m here to tell you: It’s not enough.
Hey Appalachian Trail conservancy – you want more visitors? You want to make some money? Then I suggest you get Disney to take over. Here’s why:
Monorails. Go to Disney World and you’ll see a lot of people walking from ride to ride, but you don’t see them making the trek from park to park. Nobody wants to walk from the Magic Kingdom to Epcot. Even fewer want to walk from Georgia to Maine. Picture it: The Monotrail. If any tree-huggers think monorails would spoil the natural beauty of the A.T., then at least they should get moving walkways like at the airport. Plant ferns next to them and they’d be practically invisible.
Hotels. Disney knows that when you’ve been on your feet all day (or most of the day, if you take the monotrail) you’d probably prefer a shower and a comfortable bed over an outhouse (if you’re lucky) and a sleeping bag spread on the ground. In Florida alone Disney operates 20 themed hotels including the Animal Kingdom Lodge and the Wilderness Lodge. Clearly Disney can do outdoors without it being so damn outdoorsy. I bet they could even design a toilet that looks like a pit dug under a tree but has the added benefit of flushing.
Refreshments. People who through-hike the A.T. have to carry their own food. I’m not talking about a granola bar or bunch of grapes in a paper bag. I’m talking about carrying enough food for anywhere from four to twelve days in a backpack. That's heavy. And, unless you want to carry a refrigerator that is even heavier, your food options are limited. Hikers also have to tote chemicals or a filtration system to process water from nearby lakes and streams just so it’s fit to drink. You know, a Snapple or cherry Icee is always fit to drink, and what hiker wouldn’t appreciate a soft pretzel or some nachos?
Animals. Ryan said he saw a lot of animals on the A.T., especially snakes. In Pennsylvania, there was one very rocky segment of the trail where he saw and heard lots of rattlesnakes. The Disney solution? Animatronics. Kill all those real snakes and replace them with robot snakes. The rattlesnakes in Pennsylvania would still be scary, but they wouldn’t bite and kill you. Disney might even consider just using playful, singing snakes like in The Jungle Book. Sure, the A.T. gives you the opportunity to spot wildlife like deer, bears and rabbits, but wouldn’t you rather see Bambi, Baloo and Thumper? I know I would.
Souvenirs. What’s a vacation without a few mementos? Okay, Ryan had some nice photos of himself by rivers and cliffs. He saw a couple spectacular sunsets. But does he have a baseball cap that says “A.T. Phone Home?” Does his dad have a t-shirt that says “My Son Hiked the Appalachian Trail and All I Got is this Stupid T-Shirt?” No, they do not. It's a niche just waiting to be filled.
So there you have it. There’s obviously a lot of opportunity to make the A.T. a destination hotspot for more than just a few shaggy hikers. It just requires people of vision, like Walt and me.
Ryan said only 15% of people who set out to hike the entire A.T. actually manage to do so. I’m guessing the percentage of people who even consider the notion to start with is pretty small. You know why? Because it’s hard. You wouldn’t believe some of the trials and tribulations this guy had.
The A.T. is maintained by a conservancy group that paints white trail markers on trees and erects a few huts and privies along the trail. Sometimes these little camps even provide a water source. As good intentioned as the conservancy is, I’m here to tell you: It’s not enough.
Hey Appalachian Trail conservancy – you want more visitors? You want to make some money? Then I suggest you get Disney to take over. Here’s why:
Monorails. Go to Disney World and you’ll see a lot of people walking from ride to ride, but you don’t see them making the trek from park to park. Nobody wants to walk from the Magic Kingdom to Epcot. Even fewer want to walk from Georgia to Maine. Picture it: The Monotrail. If any tree-huggers think monorails would spoil the natural beauty of the A.T., then at least they should get moving walkways like at the airport. Plant ferns next to them and they’d be practically invisible.
Hotels. Disney knows that when you’ve been on your feet all day (or most of the day, if you take the monotrail) you’d probably prefer a shower and a comfortable bed over an outhouse (if you’re lucky) and a sleeping bag spread on the ground. In Florida alone Disney operates 20 themed hotels including the Animal Kingdom Lodge and the Wilderness Lodge. Clearly Disney can do outdoors without it being so damn outdoorsy. I bet they could even design a toilet that looks like a pit dug under a tree but has the added benefit of flushing.
Refreshments. People who through-hike the A.T. have to carry their own food. I’m not talking about a granola bar or bunch of grapes in a paper bag. I’m talking about carrying enough food for anywhere from four to twelve days in a backpack. That's heavy. And, unless you want to carry a refrigerator that is even heavier, your food options are limited. Hikers also have to tote chemicals or a filtration system to process water from nearby lakes and streams just so it’s fit to drink. You know, a Snapple or cherry Icee is always fit to drink, and what hiker wouldn’t appreciate a soft pretzel or some nachos?
Animals. Ryan said he saw a lot of animals on the A.T., especially snakes. In Pennsylvania, there was one very rocky segment of the trail where he saw and heard lots of rattlesnakes. The Disney solution? Animatronics. Kill all those real snakes and replace them with robot snakes. The rattlesnakes in Pennsylvania would still be scary, but they wouldn’t bite and kill you. Disney might even consider just using playful, singing snakes like in The Jungle Book. Sure, the A.T. gives you the opportunity to spot wildlife like deer, bears and rabbits, but wouldn’t you rather see Bambi, Baloo and Thumper? I know I would.
Souvenirs. What’s a vacation without a few mementos? Okay, Ryan had some nice photos of himself by rivers and cliffs. He saw a couple spectacular sunsets. But does he have a baseball cap that says “A.T. Phone Home?” Does his dad have a t-shirt that says “My Son Hiked the Appalachian Trail and All I Got is this Stupid T-Shirt?” No, they do not. It's a niche just waiting to be filled.
So there you have it. There’s obviously a lot of opportunity to make the A.T. a destination hotspot for more than just a few shaggy hikers. It just requires people of vision, like Walt and me.
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