It's All Over Baby Blue

One month prior to going on the press:

Production meeting is called. Ideas hashed out, a themed is devised, the Managing Editor begins to panic.  It’s a general rule. The ME is there to distribute assignments. We panic so you don’t have to.

Three weeks prior:

The theme is changed, assignments are changed, freelancers start coming up with excuses for being late, photographers get run over, someone invariably breaks something.  The Managing Editor transitions into the next stage of panic which involves not picking up the phone and drinking too much coffee

Two weeks prior:

Some assignments start to come in for the initial theme, not the new theme which is now the NEW new theme. The art director develops a vision for the issue. The Editor in Chief hates the vision. Fights break out and sabotage begins to occur - phones glued down, e-mails fill up with singing hamsters, the coffee disappers from the kitchen.  New photographers submit poorly lit pictures, photo shoots are rescheduled, someone’s uncle dies and they have to fly to Guam.  The Managing Editor is so far past panic that even coffee won’t help.  Bourbon becomes the beverage of choice.

Five days:

The magazine is late, but not late, late, just normal, oh my god the ME is going to have a heart attack late, but not the press needs to be informed late.  The layout that has gone through 14 revisions, three photographers, two separate editors and the death of a freelancer’s cat goes through final circulation to discover that the name of the person featured is spelled wrong, and differently in three different places.  Also, that we may have attributed the invention of the combustion engine to Ronald McDonald. Unironically.  The bourbon no longer has any effect.

Two days:

Someone finally approves the cover, after the Editor in Chief wakes up with half his head shaved and the Art Director finds threatening letters to his pet hamster taped to his stapler.  The ME comes to work wearing underwear on the outside of her outfit because the stress has driven her around the bend.  Bluelines are sent back, knowing full well that somewhere in them, Guam is listed as the capital of Pennsylvania.

One day:

The whole thing goes to Press.  With blessings and curses, and at least one ad that is really not the color it should be but came with a proof waiver.

Two days post:

The press calls.  They didn’t read the paper work, the magazine is really supposed to be printed on a paper stock that they don’t have.

Three days post:

The press calls again. They were wrong. It’s fine. Please stop panicking and making frantic phone calls around the country.

1 week post:

The whole thing starts all over again.

Tell me life is different in the digital world!

The only positive things I can see coming out of California’s current economic and political crises are the groups forming that refuse to simply accept what is offered, and instead demand a better solution.

All across the Los Angeles Unified School District last week, students walked out in protest of the budget cuts that would take teachers out of their classrooms. These are students who probably have barely begun to grasp any of the historical ramifications of an economic crisis, a unionized dispute, a protest. But they have an emotional and now POLITICAL response to the world around them. That may be the best thing they’ll learn in their four years - how to care, how to act, how to protest something forced on to them, how not to simply sit back and accept.

And after the Prop 8 decision came down today, rallies are already forming, politicians and people saying out loud: “this is not okay. we do not agree. we will demand change.” This reaction has been consistent since the amendment was first proposed, but now that it looks like it will be a long fight, people seem re-energized to not only fight this travesty of equal rights, but to be equally vocal and passionate about protesting against the state’s ability to limit equal rights due to the majority resolution problem.

It is ironic that it takes a 2/3 majority to pass a budget in the state (something we’re struggling to achieve), and only a simple majority to rob people of equal rights under the law.

However, if we can reform not only our government, but also ourselves: if we can be vocal and angry and active and joyful in what happens to our political process, our government, our rights, than it’s possible that all of this will somehow be worth it.

Do you think that Wolfram Alpha will be able to tell me the odds of me getting run over by a vehicle if I actually purchase and then ride a bicycle to work this summer?

And do you think it will also answer the question of whether or not I will look like an Italian film star from the 1960s bicycling instead of a scared, sweaty hot mess?

Every Wednesday night in Community Policing class, somebody proves that the adage, “There are no stupid questions” is complete bullshit. Of course there are stupid questions.

-Is it illegal for everyone to store explosives? is perhaps not a stupid question, but when offered the answer, “Yes, yes it is!” to go on and say “Really, everyone? Not even the military? Not anyone?” is a stupid question.

-Asking the scientific definition of the difference between “explosion” and “implosion” is a stupid question when you are 50 years old.

-Asking the Anti-terrorism guy whether the medical marijuana stores are linked to terrorism is a stupid question (if only because you always want someone to say bad things about the medical marijuana stores).

-My favorite though was asking the Bomb Squad guy (after seeing a picture of one of the Bomb Robots in front of a bank robber and being told that the robots can even cut through the explosive vests of suicide bombers) was the question, “So is that robot arresting him?”

Yes, it’s the future. It’s the year 3000. Robots are cops, and also beer drinking smart alecs who steal stuff. Bender is real. So is time travel.

Too bad the desks we sit at in class are way to small to bang my head on in frustration. However, it does make for solid entertainment.