Oh, yeah, Australia.

To be perfectly frank, as an American it surprises me a little bit when I see Australia on a map. Most of the time, us Americans are only hearing about whatever misery is coming out of the UK, EU, Middle-East or Africa. And then of course, there's China, big scary evil China. We hear about that a lot. 

But anytime I look at a full world map and Australia pops into view, it's a little bit shocking. There's a part of me that goes, "Oh, yeah, of course, Australia, how'd I forget you were there?" And even though the shape of the continent is plenty familiar, it never ceases to make me re-evaluate my world view and realize there's an entire island civilization floating just south of the Pacific. 

And well, duh. Of course there is.

So, there's a part of me that clearly realizes I'm insulated. I only hear about Australia when I'm going to Outback Steakhouse or debating Australian censorship when it comes to porn with small boobs (I'm serious, look it up.) But for the most part, Australian culture, for whatever reason, isn't part of American life like European and Middle-Eastern culture is. 

In fact, if someone asked me to name all the continents on the planet, I bet Australia would come last. Yeah, even after Antarctica. I mean, Antarctica has been in so many scary movies, action films and science programs. How often are we yucking it up about how great it is to live in Australia?  

Hey, look, maybe you are. I'm just not.

But the point is, my East-Coast White-Suburbia American-Lifestyle has left any regular thoughts about Australia so deeply in the recesses of my mind that it will still, without fail, every time, surprise me to see Australia on a map.

Why every house has a frisbee

Okay, let me lay some straight dope right now. Every house has a frisbee if you look hard enough. You may not know it yet, but it's true, because according to science, there's been about seventy billion fucking frisbees ever manufactured and it's really unlikely you haven't crossed paths with a few dozen of them in your life time. Think about it, they're in given away as party favors or at business conferences, they're passed around at local parks like everyone's favorite homeless toy. And then there's always that one summer someone goes a little crazy on pool toys and buys a few five of them, yeah even that weird koosh flying disc. You said that one summer was going to be the first organized ultimate frisbee competition with your buddies, but instead you spent it drinking and lounging in the pool. And don't forget that time you all went to the beach but forgot the frisbee, so you picked one up while you were buying suntan lotion and sports drink at CVS. OH hey did everyone bring something to the bar-b-que? Oh yeah? Thanks Jimmy, we were looking for food not a $4 frisbee. But whatever; at least he brought something, unlike your brother. But your nephew, oh shit it's his birthday. How old is he? Do kids like friebees still? Whatever, that brat will get what he deserves. It's Easter time? It's been so nice all week, hey let's break out the frisbee. Where's that one Jenn brought home from college? Where's that gym bag Uncle George left here last summer, he brought that bright green thing at Disney World. Did Jessica buy that for her friend's birthday with her own money? How cute. Hey, look at this crazy thing Dom bought the dog! Did you see this one hon, it's the orange Nerf ones the kids like that stuff for Christmas right?

Are you LISTENING.

The point is, at some point, you bought more than one frisbee. Everyone, for some reason or another, possessed a flying fun disc. So it's impossible. Simply impossible that someone's house doesn't have a frisbee in it. Because you either forgot you needed one, or lost the previous one you bought. Which only means one thing.

Everyone's house has a frisbee in it. We all just don't look hard enough. And quite frankly, I think that's telling. Not just about our culture, but how we waste money, fake sports, and reinvent plastic particulate (shutup about your carbon fiber disc). Live it up you hippie, we recycle.

So we keep making more frisbees! Oh fuck, fire-up the frisbee machine it's the summer people lost their frisbees. Oh damn, get the Whammo! R&D team up here, let's re-invent the frisbee this summer you guys!

What kind of world is that? One with a casual, disposable item?

This one. You, me, mine, ours. This is the world we live in.

Go find your frisbee, you lazy bastard.

Dealing With The PR World

(or: first world problems for bloggers.) 

The majority of the time, the PR people I speak to in the blogging world are friendly, helpful and frequently good looking. It makes for a pleasant experience, especially since a majority of the information I'm required to ingest is often unpalatable. But every once in a while, the PR experience is grating, unfriendly or at worst, unhelpful. 

Here's a small example of one such tiny incident that rubbed me the wrong way. 

PR Person: Hi David, let's catch up on [COMPANY X]'s partner program. Are you free on [SHORT LIST OF IMPOSSIBLE CALL TIMES/LONG LIST OF CALL TIMES I CAN'T AVOID]. 

Me: Okay, how about 2:30 PM EST? 

PR Person: GREAT! I'll send over all the dial-in information for the call.  

--THE NEXT DAY, ON THE CALL-- 

PR Person: Hi David, you're on the line with Dick and Bob from [COMPANY X]. 

Me: Great, nice to meet you. Let's talk about [XYZ]. 

--CALL GOES WELL. I TAKE NOTES. I WRAP UP--

Me: And if I could just get your official titles and correct spellings of your names...? 

PR Person: OH! I will e-mail you those right away, right after the call. 

Dick and Bob: Thanks PR Person. Thanks, Dave.

Me: Thanks everyone. Bye. 

--CALL ENDS--

About 80 percent of the time, I get a follow-up e-mail almost instantaneously. It's as though the PR person had wrote it well before the call was finished, just sitting there itching to hit that send button. It's usually a "thanks for your time," e-mail, which frequently contains the housekeeping information I requested at the end of the call. 

But this one particular call, I received neither a 'thank you' e-mail, or the requested information. Sometimes there's a delay and sometimes they'll follow up with you first thing in the morning. But I received neither. This puts me in the position where I still need the information on Dick and Bob to complete the blog.

Why don't I Google them? There's a few reasons. First, in cases like this one, I don't have their last names or they've been said just once over the phone, so I never got their correct spelling (or pronunciation). This happens often if the PR person hasn't told me ahead of time who I'm talking to. Second, titles change quickly. I've found that company web sites can be slow to update their own executive management roster. Third, many companies have people with the same first name, so I'm not always sure which Dick or Bob I've spoken to after the call wrapped up. 

So here I am, no titles, no names, and no PR e-mail. It's okay, I've been here before. I just send an e-mail off to the PR Person to fix things. 

--DAY 2--

Me: Hi PR Person, could I have the names and titles of the gentlemen I spoke to yesterday? (emphasis added)

PR Person: Hi David! Absolutely, you spoke to Bob Baggins, VP of Cool. 

An astute observer of the obvious would've noticed that I implied to the PR person I spoke with more than one individual. Normally, this wouldn't bother me. People read fast and reply fast. The PR world is inundated with e-mails. But this was the very same PR Person who was on the call with me. With both Dick and Bob. The same person who enthusiastically promised me an e-mail with their titles right after the phone call. 

Me: Hi PR Person. I also spoke to someone named Dick? Who was that? 

PR Person: That was Dick Wither, Marketing Genius. 

--ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: INFORMATION ACQUIRED--

Why is that underlined? Because in the context of the e-mail, it was clear this PR Person had copy-pasted it. It was in a different font and font size entirely. So, not only did the PR Person completely forget (or ignore) that there were multiple people on the call, the PR Person also had to look up that second person.  

What made this exchange more grating was there was no recognition on the PR Person's behalf they had totally half-assed it and dropped the ball. No, I don't need an apology. I don't require that to feel better. But most PR People I meet want to make your life easier, and when they don't, they feel badly about it. It's sweet, in a way.

Really, I was just looking for that professional level of "I told you I'd do something, but I slipped up. Sorry about that," but this PR Person was completely oblivious to everything. And that's frustrating. 

Ugh.

I'm not above lapse in judgment or making mistakes. We all do. But when your job is to make communication between two parties as painless and frictionless as possible - when your job is literally to be the smiling face and source of all things awesome on behalf of [COMPANY X] so [COMPANY X] gets quality press coverage - it's really just disappointing, especially if it's how you start your day. 

I'm not sure why this bothered me so much. Maybe it's because I take pride in ensuring I'm doing my job correctly and I'm quick to admit and fix any mistakes. If blogging has taught me anything, it's to double check, take it slow and don't over-promise/under-deliver. Be reasonable and be honest. It's your ass on the line when you're a freelancer. 

So most importantly, it's taught me personal responsibility.

Don't be a body wearing a job suit. Be the job.