FireWatch 2005

News headlines like that make me wish that broadcast journalism would fuse with reality TV so that reporters aren't just watching the damn fire, but competing with other networks in structured little games like "Who can assemble a firehose and put out a campfire fastest" and "Who can keep a straight face the longest". Viewers could text message their votes for most white trash interviewee, which is announced at the end of the broadcast and accompanied by the presentation of an "I'm #1" wifebeater to the winner. I mean, journalism in this country could use a bit of sensationalism--how could the population at large possibly be expected to follow something that's, like, all serious and stuff?

But I'm watching anyway, largely because I noticed smoke (which I first took to be a rain cloud that was, um, coming out of the ground) out my office window yesterday. When I did figure out that it was a fire, I still dismissed it: we have firefighters to handle things like that. It was when I was driving to work this morning that I remembered that I live in Southern California, prey to the apparently arsonist Santa Ana winds, which had blown a huge plume of smoke all over the west end of the valley. A number of people at work had been evacuated late the night before, and the air outside got darker as the day progressed. By 4 o'clock, the outdoor patio smelled like a barbecue (note: there is no barbecue on the patio) and there was a distinct glow that looked like a nice orange sunset at first glance... until we realized that the sun doesn't set in the north. There were rumors running rampant that people wouldn't be able to get home because of road closures, or there wouldn't be a home to go back to at all because the fire was practically across the street, or that anyone who wanted to go loot the Target down the street should meet at 7 on the third floor. (Regretfully, I couldn't make it, but did put in a request for the Lost Season 1 DVDs, if anyone happened to wander through that section.)

I remember hearing about the fires last year, with the polluted air, the ash raining down, and (what no one mentioned but am sure was the case) the pervasive smell of charcoal. I was hoping the Westside would be smoke-free but no such luck. I was looking forward to sailing to Catalina this weekend, but a radar image (or whatever) showed the smoke being blown in a straight line from the fires to Catalina Island. If that wind holds to get us over to the island quickly, I'll try to make peace with it, but seriously, I don't think it's too much to ask for a little fresh air 24 miles out to sea.

Life after Katrina

While a mention here pales in comparison to Brendan's coverage, I've been reading all these stories about the anarchy that's taken hold of New Orleans (and, I'm sure, other hard-hit areas where there are enough people left alive to make each other's lives hell) and the questions that are beginning to surface about the future of the city. Will they rebuild? Starting when? Can the city ever become even a shadow of what it was a week ago today? I don't know the answers to any of these questions, or am even able to surmise an educated guess, but I do think that history is instructive, and came across an excellent article (subscription required...always is for the good stuff) in the WSJ that outlined 4 other such disasters and the aftermath. What follows is a wee bit of plagiarism:

1871 Chicago Fire

Whether Mrs. O'Leary's cow really kicked over the lamp that started the whole thing or not is still a matter of debate. But the fact is that somewhere near the O'Leary barn on the evening of Oct. 8, 1871, a small fire became a big fire that became an out-of-control conflagration. It had been a dry fall, and Chicago firefighters were already stretched thin. By the end of the next day, the city's "burnt district," as it became known, covered a swath four miles long and about three-quarters of a mile wide.

The fire killed perhaps 300 people, destroyed 18,000 buildings, left 100,000 Chicagoans without homes and caused some $3.2 billion in damages, at today's prices. Half of the city had insurance, but only half of those actually got paid from their policies.

Smallpox and cholera spread in an atmosphere of poor sanitation, close living and filthy water. "The city is infested with a horde of thieves, burglars and cut-throats, bent on plunder, and who will not hesitate to burn, pillage and even murder, as opportunity may seem to offer them to do so with safety," the Chicago Evening Journal advised the day after the fire, according to an essay published by the Chicago Historical Society.

An artist's rendition of the Chicago fire of 1871 as people flee downtown.

The authorities declared martial law, and Lt. Gen. Philip Sheridan, the Civil War hero and a Chicago resident, led troops in to help preserve "the good order and peace of the city," in the words of Mayor Roswell B. Mason.

Yet almost as soon as the embers had cooled, Chicago business leaders deployed to New York to persuade investors that this was the time to put more of their money into Chicago, not less. Peter Alter, curator of the Chicago Historical Society, recounts the story of William D. Kerfoot, a real-estate speculator whose offices had burned. The day after the fire was extinguished, Mr. Kerfoot erected a crudely made painted sign: "All Gone But Wife, Children and Energy."

The stockyards had been spared the flames, as had much of the city's heavy industry. "Five years will give Chicago more men, more money, more business, than she would have had without this fire," John Stephen Wright, one of the city's most vocal boosters, said at the time, according to the Chicago Historical Society.

He proved prophetic. Chicago, on the shores of Lake Michigan, was a crucial crossroads of agriculture and industry, too valuable to give up. By the end of the decade Chicago was bigger and better than before. The city had a population of roughly 300,000 before the fire. In 1880 it was home to half a million.

"Chicago was both built and rebuilt so quickly because the rest of the national and international economy needed it so badly," says Carl Smith, a professor of English, American Studies and History at Northwestern University in Evanston, Ill. The rebuilding accelerated the division of the city into commercial and residential districts, and hurried the adoption of fire-resistant building materials. The city grew so quickly that many of the buildings put up after the fire were torn down within a couple of decades to make way for the new skyscrapers.

1906 San Francisco Earthquake

When the last fire was extinguished after the San Francisco earthquake of April 1906, survivors emerged from their makeshift shelters to find three-quarters of their city in ruins. All telephone and telegraph communications had ceased. There was little water for drinking.

A man photographs the ruins of a building following the 1906 San Francisco earthquake.

The railroads had been destroyed; the port was completely blocked by debris. Few, if any, hotels, restaurants or cafés survived, and 300,000 people were homeless. Banks were closed, and would remain so for a month. Despite martial law, looters roamed the streets, and the mayor ordered them to be shot on sight.

"As regards industrial and commercial losses, the conditions are appalling," wrote Victor H. Metcalf, secretary of labor and commerce, in a report to President Roosevelt. "Not only have the business and industrial houses and establishments of one-half million people disappeared, leaving them destitute financially and their means of livelihood temporarily gone, but the complicated system of transportation indispensable to them has been almost totally destroyed."

Yet there was never any doubt, among either the survivors or their elected officials, that San Francisco would be rebuilt. Indeed, just five days after the earthquake, California's governor, George Pardee, told a reporter, "The work of rebuilding San Francisco has commenced, and I expect to see the great metropolis replaced on a much grander scale than ever before."

San Francisco's mayor, Eugene E. Schmitz, quickly appointed a group of local businessmen, lawyers and journalists, known as the Citizens' Committee of Fifty, to organize the recovery. In the first days and weeks after the disaster, that meant trying to feed, clothe and shelter survivors while raising money to repair the city's infrastructure. Private citizens from across America pledged $10 million, as well as train cars full of goods. The federal government voted to give the city $2.5 million, and Japan and Canada contributed to the relief fund. New bond issues were authorized, and Eastern financiers were encouraged to buy about $14 million of previously authorized but unsold municipal bonds.

Engineers, contractors and draftsmen were recruited from other parts of the country, and the city began trying to buy all the lumber, cement and glass it could find. Temporary structures were erected in several centrally located squares for use by architects, transportation and insurance officials and lawyers.

Labor unions quickly convened to mourn their lost members -- and set rules for the coming boom. The painters' union, for example, suspended many of its trade rules: "No overtime will be allowed; straight time for night or Sunday work. The brothers are requested to be satisfied with eight hours' work and give unemployed brothers a chance." Members of the Plumbers, Gas and Steam Fitters' Union, 80% of whom said they had lost their tools, voted to volunteer their services; about 500 plumbers worked around the clock for more than a week repairing broken pipes.

Obviously, all did not go smoothly in the three years it took to rebuild San Francisco. There were complaints of red tape and poor coordination among relief agencies. Unscrupulous building contractors installed new foundations made of mud rather than cement.

Some public officials, including some from the citizens committee, or "boodle board," as it was nicknamed, funneled donations into their own pockets. Yet just three months later, in July 1906, the St. Francis Hotel Annex re-opened, and hundreds of buildings were under construction.

Charles B. Sedgwick, editor of a newspaper called the British-Californian, described the resilience of the people of San Francisco the day after the earthquake. "Men and women came to see what was going on, gazed about in blank astonishment for a few moments, then went their way as though nothing extraordinary was transpiring," he wrote. "It was this indifference, or philosophical resignation to the inevitable, that struck me as the most marvelous thing in connection with the great tragedy. This, and the ease and quickness with which people grew accustomed to the changed conditions."

In both the Chicago Fire of 1871 and the San Francisco Earthquake of 1906, people were left in similar situations immediately following: no water, no plumbing, no place to live, and no one to protect them from the looters who saw an opportunity and grabbed it. In both instances martial law was instituted and citizens set about the business of recovery as fast as they were able. Even now that's what's happening in New Orleans: no one's giving up. No one is leaving those stranded to their fate. No one is talking about farewell ceremonies in honor of a city that once was. All anyone is doing is talking about ways to help this city get back on its feet, what steps need to be taken and how to obtain the resources in order to do so. Everything is a mad scramble right now, but it was never going to be anything else. This is just how the first step goes.

The Onion never lets me down

Not only have they come to see the error in their ways and are making access to the archives free again, but they have a slick new look and one of those new-fangled "blog" thingies. And this week's lead story is tailor-made for my inner-SEM geek: "Google Announces Plan to Destroy All Information It Can't Index."

Still alive

I realize it's been a little while since I've posted anything here--the truth is, it's been awhile since I've spent a significant amount of time online at all. My flakiness with respect to returning emails is bordering on egregious, I've fallen completely out of touch with pop culture and current events, and the only reason I'm even aware of what month it is is because of the scheduling I'm involved with at work. (We're getting behind schedule to mail something in November.)

So what do I have to say for myself? What enthralling experiences and neverending series of parties and elite cocktail receptions have I been attending? How far along am I in my marathon training? How many performances have I given locally and how many more are being scheduled for my nationwide tour? Because clearly I'm so busy that there's no way I could tear myself away to give my dear readers some idea of what they're missing, or a vicarious conversation or two with captains of industry or even a couple A-list entertainment personalities.

The sad truth of the matter is, there hasn't really been anything noteworthy enough to warrant a post. The details of my day-to-day life are mind-numbingly boring, and I can't really talk much about my job here, but not to worry--that's mind-numbingly boring, too.

Let's say I were to post here regularly: every so often I'd include some tidbit from the online marketing and advertising industry, because I've picked up reading about it again (I get about 20 daily emails in my inbox at work from various marketing sources)--I might mention a cool marketing ploy like the one at 7daysleft.com (click on the British flag), or talk about a new development in the search engine marketing (SEM) industry, like Google launching an instant messaging program. And once I've been reading these periodicals long enough, I might even be able to cough up an actual opinion now and again as to what's going on, how it fits into the grander scheme of things, what we can look forward to in the future, etc. etc.

But there's a reason why I don't have those opinions, why I don't read up on what's going on, and why I don't post it here: every day I get up and spend close to an hour driving to work, and spend the day there in something of a mad scramble to get things done and look responsible and stuff while I do it so I don't have to think about the fact 11 hours out of my day are dictated by my job (that's including my lunch hour, which you just can't really enjoy if you know you need to get back to work). And that when I get home I'm at a loss for what to do, because I'm too tired to really put much effort into anything. (Am really looking forward to the fall season starting on TV, that'll mix things up a little.) Particularly not doing stuff online, as I spend most of my day looking at a computer screen. What's different about today? I spent part of the day home sick; I left to go to a client meeting, so it's not like I had the day off, but I didn't put in 8 hours of making charts and sending emails and writing up change orders.

That's not to say that nothing's happened in the last couple months. Around mid-July, I was moved to a new account and a new manager at work: instead of working on 3-4 different accounts, all of them business-to-business, I'm now dedicated to working full-time on the agency's biggest account. Happily, this account is a well-known company that mails massive amounts to consumers every month, and we're tasked with coming up with new creative and new strategies every month, and my boss always allows me a chance to contribute if I want/am able to. Earlier this week she asked if I had any ideas for a contact strategy to reduce churn, so I wrote up a quick one for her. To me, this is very exciting. I have access to almost as much information as she does, and cannot tell you how much I have come to value the agency's overall attitude that information wants to be free. This is the first place I've ever worked where things have seemed so open.

Outside of work, there have been a couple of out-of-town jaunts to Vegas and San Francisco; I got myself a gym membership; I've joined a choral group called the West Coast Singers (1st rehearsal is September 12th); I had a particularly awesome weekend last weekend that involved partying till 5 am and then getting up the next day to go sailing, which has prompted plans to join the Women's Sailing Association of Santa Monica Bay on September 13th (and possibly attend Buccaneer Days at the end of September). My car now has only 2 (out of 6) working windows: thankfully, the a/c is fully functional and kicks ass.

That's about it in a nutshell; I will try to post proof of my continuing existence on a more regular basis.

Even the Swiss Army is geeky

A friend once commented that the fact that Swiss Army knives included tweezers was an argument for men plucking their eyebrows (Swiss Army knives as reflecting the cultural shift to metrosexuality... though I doubt tweezers are a recent addition). Well, if Swiss Army knives do in fact augment their offerings to support all possible manly pursuits, then sitting at a computer and typing (or whatever) now fits the bill. Behold, the swissmemory 1GB (also available in 'flight' versions that don't include airport security-confiscable knives).

London

I know I haven't posted anything about it because current events have never really been my forte, but I did hear about the London bombings the morning they happened, and was completely shocked and saddened to hear about them, the more so in contrast with the happy announcements about the 2012 Olympics the day before. I know that was probably what the timing was supposed to accomplish, and it worked, and it's depressing to think that joyous occasions like that in the future will be slightly tainted by the fear of retribution from people who simply don't want us to be happy.

The interesting thing about these bombings, though, is that people throughout our country felt their effect, and yet we've lost no time in turning an analytical eye on what happened and what the reaction was etc. etc. There was no such dialogue (none that sounded rational, anyway) so soon after September 11th, and in the aftermath of two attacks, now, I've heard a few things that have given me pause.

The first is in how people reacted to this event. In London, public transit was shut down, but there were several stories on how people were attempting to simply carry on, walking to and from work or school instead, and getting up and doing it over again the next day. There were quotes from people who took comfort in the fact that their country had survived worse from WWII and IRA bombings. It was as if there was that sudden intake of breath from the shock of the event and then a slow exhalation, and then everything went on as it had.

And unlike what happened during the IRA bombings, our country reacted too with that same sharp intake of breath. And there are a few reasons for it: it's a major bombing in another Westernized country, one that we feel particularly close to. It was coordinated. It was unforeseen. And most of all, it could've been us. When I first heard the news, I felt a tinge of guilt. Not just because I was so sad that this had happened after a day of celebration, but because I felt they had drawn this attack because of their involvement with us. I don't follow the news closely enough (or at all, beyond what I read on Brendan's website--I'm exceptionally well-informed about Gulf Coast weather) to have sorted out what I do and don't know and what my position is, and so I take my rather vague cue from the occasional LA Times headline and Hollywood liberal conversation, and sort of think at the back of my mind that we almost deserve terrorist acts here because of the war in Iraq. (Which I disagree with upon further scrutiny, but such scrutiny doesn't always take place.)

I also ran across this editorial in the New York Times, which made me stop and think for a moment. Thomas Friedman writes that the Muslim world needs to take action in its own self-interest, or rather the interest of Muslims already living in Western societies (a vast minority: 23 million live in the EU, we'll assume the same for the U.S., and after rounding up to 50 million, that's still less than 4%). Either they need to do their own policing, or we'll do it for them, in the form of ostracizing them. While this is certainly a good plan from our perspective, I wonder if they will feel the same way. The Muslim world is hardly encouraging terrorism as it is, though I don't know if they could be said to be condoning it (I tend not to think so). Out of 1.3 billion people, no matter how strongly the Islamic culture discourages it, you're still going to get a few who disagree, and unfortunately, that's all it takes.

On a somewhat unrelated note: Oliver Stone is making a movie about September 11th. I know I wasn't as profoundly affected by 9/11 as some, and even I feel that this is offensive. I don't care who the director is (and there are plenty who feel Stone is a particularly bad choice), the scope of that day cannot be captured in a two-hour film starring Nicholas Cage and the attempt to do so cheapens it and that is unacceptable.

Blog + Job search = More Job Searching

I finally got back to my good ol' web surfing habits (I should really click on the links in my sidebar more often, there's a reason I put them there in the first place) and found this article on job searchers with blogs, this one written from the employer's perspective. I've written on this before because I found the idea of one's online activity affecting one's offline activity to be an interesting one: people frequently feel freed to act how they want online simply because they assume there's no connection between those two worlds unless it's specifically created, in which case they believe they have control over it. Also I thought it more than usually relevant to me. But this particular article does an excellent job of outlining why blogs are a liability for those looking for a job. It's written by a professor on a committee looking to hire a new faculty member (pay attention Tom). Since blogs are gaining in popularity, academia is probably reflecting that in disproportionate amounts, and a number of the job candidates had blogs. No one was eliminated due to the blog alone, but they got dinged for any one of the following reasons:

• They revealed an intense interest in something other than what they were being hired for, thus raising questions of loyalty and investment
• They pose the potential threat of indiscretion in a public forum that could adversely affect the department or institution
• They show evidence (or are linked to by a friend's blog that shows evidence) of previous questionable activities
• They simply provide too much information about the candidate's personal life. Favorite quote:

  "It would never occur to the committee to ask what a candidate thinks about certain people's choice of fashion or body adornment, which countries we should invade, what should be done to drivers who refuse to get out of the passing lane, what constitutes a real man, or how the recovery process from one's childhood traumas is going. But since the applicant elaborated on many topics like those, we were all ears."

I think that last bullet is the most interesting, and most indicative of the split between online and offline. In the offline interview process, there are certain rules that must be adhered to. One must put one's best foot forward and hide everything else until the relationship has reached a point where it becomes appropriate to share more: so it is with most human interactions. It's thought of as rude, or gauche, or downright weird to share more about yourself than those with whom you're sharing this information are willing to share themselves, or even listen to in the first place. And yet online, many feel at liberty to ignore this convention and give free rein to, if not all, then a fair number of the thoughts that enter their head. But perhaps this is something that needs to change, unless one is conscientious enough to make sure that the divide between online and offline is complete.

In my own case, what I write here is far from uncensored because I know who's reading: it's not the anonymous internet user (for the most part), but friends and family. And that kind of self-censorship is even less restricting than that of people who have more than three readers, like Brendan or Chris, whose blogs are well-known and regularly read in their circles. You have to decide where the line is and make sure you don't cross it, and then hope that you picked the right place. As soon as I found out that a potential employer and some fellow students had found my blog, it led to a sudden reevaluation of the kinds of things I was posting. And then another when I told my family about it when I was going abroad. And I still live in fear of people I know now who don't know that I have a blog suddenly becoming as dorky as I am and googling my name and finding it. Those recent job-related posts have certainly been borderline with regards to TMI. Somehow I tend not to think of them as such because they don't seem to resemble the middle school diary-esque minutiae that attempts to answer very limited questions, like "Why doesn't Mark like me?" (answer: he probably likes Kimberley, I saw them talking and she's so much prettier than me and it's not fair cuz he's soooo cute) and "Why was Stephanie mean to me today?" (answer: Because everybody's mean. The world is mean. Everybody hates me. No one understands me. Except you, Diary.) Then again, I also think I was an exceptionally mature middle schooler. I suppose these things are open to interpretation.