You can make many useful judgements about a book based on its cover, but some of these will not be fully or even largely accurate. Further, many books contain much that it is difficult if not impossible to learn from their covers. This also applies to most things whose appearance is not equal to their content.
It’s a winter wonderland here in Seattle, so it’s time for the First Possibly Annual Lone Shark Games White Heffalump Exchange! Starting at noon PDT at #whiteheffalump, each of the fascinating folks below will be given an imaginary present from one of the other folks. Any time thereafter until 5 PM PDT, a player gets one opportunity to steal — that is, swap their gift with someone else’s. Then I roll 1d4, and on a 4, that gift is “locked” and cannot be stolen again. At the end we all end up with something neat, which I’ll post here afterward. The order of picking:
“How you work is, in many ways, as important as your work. It’s in everyone’s best interest – yours, your writing’s, your coworkers’ and your project’s – that you not only do good work, but that you work (and play) well with others. To expect that the quality of your writing is going to blithely overcome all hurdles (and blithely split all infinitives) is dangerously naïve at best, willfully ignorant at worst. Nobody’s writing is that special – not yours, not mine, not anyone’s.”
“We used to have a map of a frontier that could be anything. The web isn’t young anymore, though. It’s settled. It’s been prospected and picked through. Increasingly, it feels like we decided to pave the wilderness, turn it into a suburb, and build a mall. And I hate this map of the web, because it only describes a fraction of what it is and what’s possible. We’ve taken an opportunity for connection and distorted it to commodify attention.”
We rescued Abby from a city shelter in Gardena, California, in February 2001. A volunteer had taken her picture, written about her sweet temperament, and posted the information on a website maintained by a rescue group.
The vet told us that she was about a year old, so we decided that her birthday was Valentine’s Day. She didn’t come with a name so Stacey picked out Abby, because it means “joy.”
Abby liked to eat peanut butter and tuna fish the very most, followed closely by everything else, with the exception of vegetables, which were delicately spit back out when their true nature was discovered.
Abby knew the cheerful sound that our first Tivo made when a show was over. At night, this was the cue for her bedtime walk, so she came running at the noise.
Abby was usually the second Tidball to wake up; she’d come to find me at my desk and put her paw on my leg to let me know that, “Hello! It’s time to eat!”
We lived lots of places with Abby, but I think that her favorite must have been our hilltop house on Vista Superba street in Los Angeles, where she had free run of a deck and back yard with an incredible view that I still miss, too. She loved to lay in the sun on the deck there and sleep, panting hard in the heat.
Abby’s been with Stacey and I almost as long as we’ve been married, and Edward and Adam have never known a Tidball family without her in it.
It turns out that there’s a part of my attention that used to keep thoughtless track of where the dog was. That confused part of my mind is making the house feel strange and empty now, without Abby in it.
Rest in peace, good girl. We’ll plant a tree for you, and remember you forever.
Unfortunately, RiverKey Creative — the place where I work — is closing its doors.
Although certain assets and employees may find new homes or move together to a different agency or firm, RiverKey as it’s been constituted for the last three years, give or take, is over.
In their least dramatic form (no need for drama), the reasons are that two unlucky and uncontrollable events, in close succession, forced the ownership to take a hard look at our strategic plans and decide — wisely, I must add, as one who was there voting with them — that it would require too much money on too long a bet to continue.
I’m looking for the next thing, and I’d be grateful if you’d help me find it.
As you most likely know, I’m a creator and creative leader. My creative specialties are writing and game design, and I’m particularly good at bringing operational order to creative processes.
My most likely next move involves finding and hiring a great boss. Which is to say, getting a job at a going concern. My best matches are probably with…
A creative firm or agency, especially one focused on interactive work, where my creative experience and disciplined leadership will be an asset.
An in-house product development or marketing position where I can improve a brand’s value for those who love it, or who would love it if they knew about it.
A start-up or small but promising company where my broad base of skills will bring unusual value due to the number of hats I can expertly wear.
The usual “All About Me” can be found on LinkedIn, with a more detailed resume and portfolio of creative work available directly from me for the asking. Please call or email (323-253-6258, jeff-at-jefftidball-dot-com), or encourage those in your networks to do likewise.
Our family would like to remain in Kansas City, but would consider relocating to the Twin Cities.
The very bottom line is that I believe in the power of creativity and communication, and am looking for others who do, too, to run the next leg with me.