Politics are so political

I’m not into politics. I don’t pretend to be. I prefer to stay out of most conversations because politics are so political.

The one thing I remember most from American Heritage class in college was that George Washington himself thought political parties would be the downfall of this nation. That has always had a lasting impact on me. Sometimes I wish everyone would stop arguing and just get together for one big democratic-republican group hug.

But I do care about improving our nation and understanding the challenges that we face. I also understand my civil duty as a citizen and a taxpayer. So I did the American thing and watched the Republican presidential candidate debate.

I learned a lot. Almost too much. But mostly, I learned a few things about presidential candidates.

No one answers the questions they are asked. Ever. Instead, they answer the question they wish they were asked, no matter how far of a stretch the connection might be.

I noticed a fairly consistent pattern in most of their answers: First, they preface by saying they will answer the question at hand after they address a previous question they had been itching to talk about. Next, they give a round about transition away from the question toward something else they’d like to discuss. After doing so, they find some way to bring up when and where they were Governor/Senator/Representative before or currently and what they did in that position to solve a completely different problem. Last, they try and cram as many run-on sentences as possible in one final breath after the commentator tells them, “time.”

Other ‘political’ people might understand what they were doing from a strategic angle, but I was mostly confused by their answers and left wondering what on earth their response had to do with immigration. Or Health Care reform. Or Anything. Meanwhile, they would move on to the next question while I was still waiting for the answer to the last one.

I respect these men for the things they do for our country and our freedom. It was probably just me more than anything. I was never cut out for something like politics. I’ll stick to nerdy things on the internet.

Go America!

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According to Plan

Do you have a plan? Short term? Long term? 5-year? 10-year? Life plan?

So what is it? What's your plan?

But let me ask you this: How often has your plan changed? My guess is that you've been forced to readjust your plans several times along the way. If you hadn't, most of us would have ended up as firemen, scientists, and astronauts, or ballerinas for the girls. Isn't that what most children want to be at some point? Or something along those lines? At what point do you give up that plan and change it for a new one? 

When things don't go 'according to plan,' we are forced to abandon them and start over. But that's usually the first thing we do when something major changes or something deviates from its original course. We start to plan every detail. How things are supposed to go, or supposed to look, or supposed to happen. As if our happiness is somehow determined by the amount of life that happens according to plan.

What if you were so locked in on one plan that you missed the chance to make an even better plan? What if a door opened on plan B, but you never even bothered to stray from plan A? You never even bothered to look up and examine your surroundings.

I think it's a natural tendency for humans to try and plan everything. Whether you realize you are doing it or not. But why? Why can't we just let life take it's natural course? If you're so set on planning everything, why not just plan to let life happen? Plan for change.

Don't try and plan everything. You might miss something.

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Natural Disaster Aplenty

The entire country tuned into the east coast for a riveting week of natural disasters. I had never experienced an earthquake before. I had been through a hurricane while living in Texas, but never prepared for one just days after another of Earth’s disasters.

Needless to say, it was a crazy week. I survived, unscathed. While most of the east coast dealt with emotional scars from the overhyped frenzy. I learned that people back east are much more dramatic. Which is probably why Californians and tropical residents said everyone was overreacting.

As far as the earthquake goes, it was kind of a cool experience. I felt like I was back in elementary school going through drills. Only this time for real, and with no teacher to report to once the building was evacuated. All the government employees got the rest of the day off, but people in my office decided they would go back to work within 15 minutes of standing outside.

The media blew Hurricane Irene out of proportion. I understand the risk was a lot higher because of the higher population in a dense area, but people were preparing for the nuclear holocaust.

It got me thinking about which natural disasters would the most terrifying to experience. For some reason, tornadoes are the ones that scare me the most. I used to have nightmares about getting caught in a tornado. And yet I loved the movie Twister still.

Volcanoes are another one of my bigger fears. Something about that lava freaks me out.

I’ve seen avalanches, but never been in one. I’ve been in floods, but never anything too extreme. Tsunamis would be pretty freaky. Blizzards happen in Utah (but can also be overhyped, e.g., storm of the century last year).

I think I've also always been scared of a 100-foot tidal wave coming right at me, like in the cartoons or something. Not sure when I'd ever be in that situation, but you can imagine how terrifying it would be.

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Cost of being homeless

If there is one thing I have learned over the past month, it's that being homeless is a lot more expensive than I thought.

Well, at least being a hybrid homeless person is.

I moved to DC about 3 months ago. I had a great apartment and work situation. But my apartment sublease was only 2 months long. I figured at that point, I would either be hired full time by the agency I work with or I would be heading home to Utah to find something else. Instead, I was offered an extension to keep working month to month until they had more of a long-term solution for me. I didn't quite expect it to turn into what it has become now.

I didn't want to sign any sort of apartment lease until I knew at least my not-too-distant future.

And ever since, I've kinda been homeless. There have been a number of people kind enough to take me in and give me shelter. I've already jumped to almost half a dozen couches, all the while living out of my few suitcases. Currently, I am staying with family of friends outside the district with 3 small children. I've become a live-in babysitter. Didn't see that one coming.

It wouldn't be too bad, except I don't have a car either. Which has made things a bit more tricky. I have to carefully plan out where I'll be and how I will be able to get 'home'.

Being homeless has been quite the adventure. I have definitely had my fair share of never-before experiences and run ins. But what I didn't plan for was the same thing I mentioned earlier—the cost.

Imagine having to pay for public transport everywhere and eating out for every meal. It starts to add up quickly. I have already gained a new appreciation for grocery shopping. Luckily I have an employer that pays me hourly, so I haven't gone hungry or anything. Not yet at least. The only benefit to this situation is not having to pay rent on an apartment. 

And if that's not enough, throw in the added pressure of being a young, single and LDS. That means dating. Which in turn means paying for two instead of just one. It can be hard enough with a home and car, but try taking both away. Call me old fashion, but it never gets less awkward to ask a girl out and then ask if she wouldn't mind picking you up too.

I am learning to enjoy the situation. It's definitely once in a lifetime—in the sense that as soon as I have a family/wife, not having a guaranteed roof over our heads won't fly.

Maybe the opportunity cost will be worth it in the end. Until then, call ahead if you want to come visit, because I could be in any number of locations.

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Investigative Citizen Journalism

If you know me at all, you know I’m a die-hard Utah Jazz fan. I feel personally invested in their success. When they lose, it physically hurts sometimes. Deep down.

So when I thought someone tried to pull a fast one on other Jazz fans like myself, I put a stop to it.

Here’s what happened.

Gordon Hayward became a fan favorite at the end of the season last year. After being the 9^th overall pick by the Jazz last year, he started slowly and struggled to find success. But now he is viewed as one of the building blocks for the future of the franchise.

He is fairly active on Twitter, and I have been following him since the day he became a Jazzman. I knew the things he would usually talk about and the way he would typically say them.

Well, one day, I caught wind of a Gordon Hayward profile on Facebook. Not a fan page like most athletes have, but one that anyone could actually request to be friends with. This was the first red flag. For a professional athlete to only have that many friends was strange. And for those of you who don’t already know, Facebook puts a stop to people who reach a certain limit of friends.

But it was worse than just having a profile. He was actually responding to almost every wall post and comment on his page. That’s when it started to get really out of ordinary. No way he would have time to respond back to everyone. I talked with other people about it, but most of them seemed to believe it was real.

To me it seemed obvious it was a fake. All of the pictures were taken from a Google image search. He would post the weirdest things. Stuff that not even a dumb NBA player would write about the NBA commissioner, let alone a class act in Gordon Hayward. And he would never even mention his girlfriend, which he never stops talking about on Twitter. Plus there were no real pictures of the two together. He pretty much just seemed like a different person.

Well, Gordon fever seemed to be taking off in the Salt Lake area. Every day it seemed like more and more of the people I knew were becoming friend too. So even if it was real, the exclusivity and cool factor of being friends with an NBA player was gone.

So I decided to do some investigating/experimenting. I wrote on his wall that the account was fake. And very soon after that the comment was deleted, I was defriended, and he had blocked my account from viewing his.

Seems strange for a real person to be worried about something like that. I mean, if someone called me out for not being the real me, I’d just comment and ask what they were talking about. The guilty are always more nervous.

That’s when I knew. So I updated my status to let everyone else know. And even then, a lot of people still believed him. At least, they didn’t really have any other reason not to believe him.

So I decided to go right to the source. Luckily, on Twitter, celebrities have a little blue check next to their name to prove they are a verified account. I figured it was a long shot, but told him what was up. Here’s what happened:

And the rest is history. Mystery solved.

So I guess I can always try a career in detective work if nothing else works out.

Don’t worry Gordo. I got your back.

Go Jazz.

 

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What's in a name

I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I’m not the first. With a name like Scott Stevens, I can’t expect it to be very unique. I love my name, but Scott, and Stevens are both very common names. Put them together and it doesn’t get much better.

But that’s not the worst part.

I always liked having a famous athlete share my name growing up, even if it was a hockey player. That just meant I could never Google my own name like most people and see what came up. But that was a minor sacrifice. I could live with that.

But it gets worse.

Most people can’t say they are the only ones in the world with their full name. A few more in their own country, and again in their own state. But what about their own family? You’d think everyone should at least be unique among family members. Not including deceased members, and making an exception for George Foreman’s children.

That’s what most people don’t know about me.

I’m not even the first Scott in my own family.

I have a hand-me-down name from my older brother.

I’m sure if my mom ever reads this, she’ll have some sort of explanation. But there may always be some scar tissue.

My older brother is named Nathan Scott Stevens. My parents wanted both of those names for their boy. But when they ended up having another boy just three years later, they decided they could actually use Scott as a first name.

It’s been recycled.

It never dawned on me growing up. It wasn’t until I was older that I started to realize how cheated I had been. You might ask, so why not go by your middle name? Well, that’s a tough decision for a child to make on his own. Self-imposed name changes never seem to go over too well. It’s like trying to give yourself a nickname.

When you share the same name as your older brother, I guess you learn to be more creative in other areas to try and stand out.

Despite obvious copyright infringement, I still like my name. Plus I am the only one in the family named after a relative other than our father—Lloyd comes from my grandpa. So that will just have to make up for the rest.

 

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Salesman

I met this girl yesterday and she asked what I do. When I told her advertising, she immediately asked me to try and sell her on something.

I then proceeded to slap her in the face.

I’m not a salesman.

And advertising should be more than just a sales pitch.

I got one of my first jobs because they told me I’d be working with advertising. But all it turned out to be was making cold sales calls. I quit after two weeks. Ironically, I got into advertising because I hated ads. It sometimes makes no sense. But I plan to make a difference.

Advertising doesn’t have to be the annoying 30 seconds you fast-forward on DVR to get back to the good stuff. Why not make advertisements the good stuff in the first place? Then, people will want to interact with your brand rather than fast-forwarding through it.

She apologized when I explained all of this.

Of course, I didn’t actually slap that girl in the face. It was a metaphor for me slapping her in the face metaphorically.

 

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The social media party and brand booty calls

It’s a party for all of your friends. Even for some people who aren’t your friends, but still claim to be. They come from all different stages of your life; they each have different backgrounds and personalities. Some of them aren’t even real people, they only pretend to be.

This is the Social Media party, and everyone’s invited. (Except Google+, they still have VIP passes. And they met their quota for the moment. But stay tuned for more invites shortly.)

Just like any real party, you have all different types of guests. There are the ones that show up awkwardly early to the party, and every party for that matter. But they don’t bring a whole lot to the party—neither friends nor personality. But there aren’t enough other people there yet to ignore them. So you stand there, uncomfortably shifting from eye contact down to the drink in your hand and back, occasionally nodding your head in acknowledgement while throwing in a courtesy laugh to make them believe you are actually listening.

There are also the people talk way too much. They may occasionally ask your opinion, but ultimately do so just to spin the conversation back to themselves. It’s overwhelming. And because of it, rather than actually listening to them, you are looking for any sign of taking a breath between sentences so you can excuse yourself and move to another side of the room.

There are the ones that show up once the party is already full-steam. They can’t be there on time, because that would be so faux pas. But rather than helping to make the party into a success, they piggy back on the conversations of others, often trying to steal the spotlight. And then head for the exit at the first sign of the party slowing down.

There are the complete randoms that no one seems to know. Everyone simply assumes that person must have been invited by someone else. Also known as “randos.”

Similar to the randos are the hoverers. You may know them or you may not. They don’t fully join the conversation, but they hover just behind everyone in the circle, laughing on cue with the rest of you. Never leading or contributing, but they are always there. And it makes you uncomfortable.

Every once in a while you may experience the ‘elderly’ at your party. Elder in the literal sense of being older than you. Not the cool kind of the older, though. The bad kind. This might be a parent dropping by unannounced, or something similar to that time you saw your 3^rd grade teacher outside of class at the grocery store. It just didn’t feel right.

Then there are always the ones who stay way longer than welcomed. They can’t seem to let it die and continually beat it like a dead horse. That’s animal cruelty people, c’mon.

Of course, if the party is good enough, then brands will start to show up. This can be a good or a bad thing. Some get it, but most don’t. It depends on the party and it depends on the people attending. For example, when the Redbull girls show up to an outdoor event/concert/dance party, they are usually well received. It fits the context. But I don’t care to hear what a pet food might do for me while at that party. More often than not, it seems that brands show up to a party because one was happening. Nothing more. I may even be a pet lover, but that doesn’t make it okay. Certain brands are getting it right. They might even be the ones throwing the party in the first place.

As an advertiser, and a party-goer, I’m okay with brands joining the party. But I don’t want the ones who have nothing else going on this weekend, so they find the first party they see. Don’t call me at 11 PM on Friday and expect anything. I’m not your brand booty call. If you want to see success with social media, it takes careful planning ahead of time. It requires strategy and a game plan. I’ve often felt that the success of my weekend can be directly related to the amount of preparation during the week.

There is no real way of knowing where the next big party is going to happen. But I am at this party because my friends are there. So if you’re a brand, listen to what’s going on around you before you start talking and throwing your own parties.

 

Did I miss any party personalities? Let me know if you think of any others.

 

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Copy-righter

Most in advertising probably sees this title and thinks, "Amusing. But overplayed."

Most in other professions probably assume this has legal ramifications. Think C with a circle around it.

Most of my friends outside of work/school probably think that it's actually what I do.

Most other people have no idea what just happened.

Which is why I try to avoid the full title of 'copywriter' in most conversations. I tell people I'm a writer. That's what I do. And that's really all they need to know in most cases. I obviously do the whole writing thing specifically in advertising, but details tend to confuse people for some reason.

The only reason I bring this up is because I've finally experienced a slight shift in my goals as a writer. For the longest time, I always tried to steer clear of being a 'writer.' I enjoyed writing and always had a fun time expressing myself through the written word. But I always thought of writers as people that tried to separate themselves from society and considered their intellect to be far superior to the vast majority of the human race. (maybe a slight exaggeration). And I am not like that. I like to come up with and write things that apply to as many people as possible and help bring them together. I consider myself to be more of an ideator (an idea guy) than an actual writer anyway.

Writers seem to always be in the quest for their next screenplay or complex novel idea. Even in advertising, it seems like a lot of copywriters dabble with this kind of writing. I think it would be fun if I had all kinds of money, but for some reason, the huge appeal was never there. Until recently.

I finally had the desire to write my own book someday. I have one idea already, but I'm keeping it under wraps. But I'm accepting others if anyone has any. I don't know why the sudden change. It may be because I've been reading a lot more since I've been out of school. This is probably a good of time as any for a shameless plug for my mom's book. If you haven't heard of ParentFix before, check it out. It will change your view on life through parenting.

Well, I guess I've got a new item for the bucket list. After all, I am a writer.

And I may need a copyright for this one.

 

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One down, NBA to go

The NFL is back. And I really am excited about it. But I’d be more excited if we were going to have an NBA season too. It got me thinking about where sports rank for me.

The NBA is at the top of my list as far as sports go. (Go Jazz).

Then I’d put college football.

Then the NFL.

Then college basketball.

The Washington Nationals have recently helped me rekindle my love of baseball, but it is still a bit down the list.

Then all the rest, like Hockey, UFC, and Nascar tie for an abysmal last place. We could get rid of these sports all together and I wouldn’t be too upset.

When it comes to sports seasons, I’d rank them as follows:

1. Fall – Baseball playoffs, NFL/College Football Season, NBA begins, plus the weather is wonderful.

2. Spring – Basketball season finale/playoffs, March Madness, Baseball spring training/season.

3. Winter – Skiing, NBA action, NFL playoffs/Super Bowl, Bowl Games.

4. Summer – This can vary, if it’s at all like this summer, a definite last place. But last summer was the world cup, next summer is the 2012 Olympics, which can increase the value. Other than that, Mid-season baseball and the WNBA just make me a little upset.

My favorite sports months follow suit with the seasons:

1. October

2. March

3. December

So you can imagine how awful it would have been for me to have both the NFL and NBA locked out this year. It would have thrown off my entire ranking system. This summer might have been one of the worst in history as far as watching sportscenter is concerned. The only things that made it worthwhile were Hope Solo and Alex Morgan during the epic Women’s World Cup.

It does feel nice to have NFL highlights again in preparation for the season. But I wish they’d get the NBA going soon.

As long as I’m wishing for things though, I might as well pick and choose the super combination of sports. If it were up to me, I’d always have it be December. Great sports month. Fresh snow on the ground. NFL is wrapping up. Bowl games full swing. My birthday and Christmas fall in that month. The only thing that would make it better would be to somehow move March Madness into December. It need a new name obviously. But that would just be the most glorious month of sports ever. I’d never want it to end.

One more thing—Go Jazz!

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I Would Jump

I walk to work everyday across the Key Bridge into Georgetown. And for nearly two months, I’ve asked myself the same question: Would I jump off?

Not in a weird, suicidal way. But more in the I-think-I-could-survive-slash-thrill-seeking sort of way. I look over the green guard rails into the misty Potomac River and wonder. 

From the top, it doesn’t seem too far. At least a drop that high shouldn’t kill me or anything. But sometimes your vision can be misleading. From down on the river, the height to the top seems a lot more daunting. I went canoeing on the Potomac a few weeks ago and got a different perspective. From the water up, it definitely looks a lot higher. Which probably factored into why it has taken me so long to make a final decision.

 

Here are some of the stats I looked up for the bridge: It was built in 1923 and is now the oldest standing bridge into the district. Most importantly, it stands at just under 100 feet from the top. That sounds even worse now that I’m typing it myself. There is no research that has actually been done in this area, for obvious reasons. But I’m sure you could somehow calculate it with physics somehow. The highest recorded jump into water is something like 172 feet. The Golden Gate Bridge is 220 feet, and people almost always die from that fall.

 

Part of my decision may be skewed based on the weather patterns of DC. In the summer time, it is usually over 90-100 degrees every day, and I walk across this bridge two times. It can get pretty sweaty out there. So a flowing river beneath me seems very appealing on most days.

 

This was a difficult process despite the fact that I will never actually get the chance to do it. They would need to make a space between the rails to jump from, I would need to be in a swimming suit, and I need to make sure it is deep enough.

 

Regardles, after weighing my options and considering the pros and cons of this entirely hypothetical situation, I have decided that I would jump.

 

Wish me luck.

 

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The World We Live In

I know everyone always talks about how terrible the world is, but I also think we live in a miraculous time. Especially in our modern digital world.

My whole outlook was slightly altered by one simple girl yesterday. And then by the millions of people that followed. If any of you were on Twitter yesterday, you may have seen that a certain trending topic. You may have had several people in your timeline mention it. Hopefully you were even decent enough to mention it yourself.

#alicebucketlist

A 15 year old girl who is terminal with cancer made a bucket list. One of her wishes was to trend on Twitter.

That was all she wanted.

And all it took from the millions of Twitter users around the world was a simple tweet, or a retweet. And it could possibly make this one girl's life that much better. And within a matter of minutes, the Twitter army had done its work, and #alicebucketlist was trending worldwide. It's nice to know that we were able to make someone's life better, and make the world a more united place. Even just 5 years ago, I probably never would have even heard of Alice or her illness. But I like to think I helped her cross this one thing off her list. That's how the world has improved.

So as much as the evil in this world continues to grow, there is also a strong force of good out there.

Why don't we all look for some way we can change someone else's life for the better. Even if it's just a simple retweet.

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Who's that new kid?

Most people are thinking this very question in my office today. They will probably continue thinking it for the rest of the week. Well, other than the handful of people that I was introduced to and shook hands with in passing in my inaugural office tour. Those people are probably thinking to themselves, "What's that kids name again?"

And so goes my first real internship.

It's like being the new kid at school after your parents moved you to a new city. Which I never actually experienced. So I'm really just assuming that this is what that feels like.

I'm excited to get to work. I just wish I was 2 weeks in already. I'm sure we'll be sipping on champagne (figurative) and looking back on the "good 'ol days" amidst deep rolling laughter (literal) in no time. Until then, we'll just exchange awkard glances and "hello's" until either they or I must up the courage to re-introduce ourselves.

(sigh) Life is good.

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A girl and a mustache

Two of my favorite things. Preferably not together. I like a good girl, and I like a good mustache.

But let me clarify what I mean by this. I've decided that the girl I marry will let me grow a mustache. I feel like that previous sentence also needs to be clarified. I do not want to grow a mustache. I appreciate a good mustache as I stated before, but I do not personally need to grow one. So why even bring it up? Well, I would like the assurance that if I ever wanted to grow a mustache, I could. That says so much more.

This might seem crazy, and sometimes when I say it loud, I agree. But for the type of girl I am looking for, she will understand the weird obsession that men have with wearing a nice little blanket on your upper lip. I know that I personally do not look respectable while I have one, nor do most men. This is obvious. Sometimes, though, it's about more than outward appearance. A man with a mustache is much funnier than a man without one. It says something about a man's character to walk around in public with one. But it says a lot more about the girl on his arm.

Any girl that understands this is welcome to apply for the job. I let my mustache do the talking.

Future, here I come

Graduation is just over a week away. For a long time, I didn't know where I'd be when school ended. But the right place came around and I couldn't be more stoked about it.

Check them out: AKQA.com

And as long as we're being honest, I still have no idea what the letters stand for. But that doesn't matter, because everything else is just what I I was looking for. AKQA is ideas first. They are all about innovation.They are a fairly small sized shop, and the creative department is a really close knit group. I feel like I am going to fit in just fine.

I contacted the recruiter through Twitter and found information about applying for internships. She asked me to send her my portfolio. A few weeks later, they contacted me about doing a phone interview with one of the teams from the DC office. The three guys I interviewed with were super awesome and I got an awesome vibe from their office. I've always found myself in a niche area for advertising, and everything they talked to me about seemed right down my alley. They said it might take a few days for them to make a decision, but that they felt comfortable letting me know that it was just between me and one other person. And the next morning, I had an email with an internship offer to join them.

So from June to August I will be a resident of our Nation's Capitol.

Come visit if you'd like. Or not. Whatever.

Just don't fax me please.

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Monopoly Money

I'm curious if I'm alone on this opinion, or if others feel the same way. 

Cash feels like Monopoly money to me. 

Anytime I have it in my wallet, I spend it. When you're playing Monopoly, you usually just drop the cash, buy up everything you can, and hope to land on free parking every once in a while. There's no accountability. Because ultimately, if you run out of money, you just get to step out of a meaningless game that takes up 16 hours of your life anyway.

I've grown so accustomed to swiping my card, that now it almost feels like my real money, and the real stuff feels fake. Here's my biggest problem: I hate receipts. I don't want to hold on to a flimsy, worthless piece of paper. Not even in my pocket. But I know that if I don't keep it, I won't remember where I spent that money. At least when I use my credit or debit card, every penny of it shows up on my bank statement. So it's like I have to deal with spending the money twice. Which keeps me in check. Spending the money once with cash isn't enough anymore. Some people may hate that because they feel guilty, but I'd rather feel guilt now than feel bankrupt later.

Sorry Mr. Washington, I hate you.

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