It’s not a Murse – I prefer to call it my Mocketbook!

If Indy says it's not a murse, who am I to argue?

I came to a realization at work today: My black messenger bag has turned into a full throttle purse. I’m sure that it’s the real intention Kenneth Cole had when he designed the bag, but no one else will admit it. Why do they even call it a messenger bag anyway? Have you ever seen a messenger deliver something with a bag strapped across his chest? Of course not.

While searching for a pen, I had to remove two sets of ipod headphones (an extra in case one break) a tide to go stick, Burt’s bees hand sanitizer, six loose quarters, three dimes and four pennies. That was just in the front pocket. So I looked further and here are the items currently residing in my bag:

-Money clip

-Ipod

-2 granola bars – mind you I don’t even like granola bars

-Pack of tissues (unopened and actually forgotten about)

-11 loose napkins

-Ipod portable speakers

-Extra pair of cuff links

-Small bottle of Purell hand sanitizer

-Napkin note of a website I might one day visit for discount eyeglasses that I know I will never use but can’t throw out, just in case.

-Extra six pack of Imodium AD (do I even need to explain that one?)

-1 package of Sweat blotting forehead strips (sometimes the noggin gets oily midday – sue me)

I can't help it - I glisten!

-Ipod AC power adapter

-Autozone receipt for replacement alternator belt

-Blackberry wall charger

-Chapstick

-1 straw (By the way, I don’t even use straws – there’s nothing masculine about straws anyway! People do not take you seriously as you’re sitting there sucking that plastic for all your worth.)

-2 AA Batteries

-1 red pen

-9 Cross pens – silver

-Receipt for CVS for Easter card for my wife

-1 immodiumabuser.com pen

-Extra key to my office

-Master key for the doors at work

-4 packs of Listerine breath strips

-49 business cards

-6 quarters

-4 dimes

-3 pennies

-Ford Focus shaped jump drive

-A handwritten quote from the crazy facilitator at last month’s training session that says “I like to have my eggs poached really hard” with the word really underlined to stress his inflection.

-Another Tide to go stick

-Pocket pal calendar

-Small leather reporter-style notepad with important notes that I took in August 2010 and forgot about

-Large Leather notebook with important notes I took in September 2010 and forgot about

-Portable mouse pad

Wireless mouse

-4 White collar stays (in case the current ones give way or get stolen mid-way through the day)

-3 paperclips

-Toilet seat covers (even thought I never shit in public – JUST IN CASE)

-Miniature roll of toilet paper (it’s a small roll but having it in there is a Big relief – you never know)

GQ Magazine with Zach Galafanakis on the cover

I don’t care for the word “murse” either. I think it’s demeaning and it really doesn’t convey the true value and convenience or the emotional significance that my mocketbook affords me. I can relax and feel comfortable knowing that anything I need is right at my side. It’s my very own relaxation station. Sure, it does get heavy after a while, but I’ll bear that burden if it means that when (not if) I stain my tie at lunch, I can dab it out immediately.

Besides the shoe horn, is this not the best invention ever?

At least I’m not like my wife’s father who actually does carry a purse when he travels. He uses her step-mother’s old Coach bag to carry his stuff through the airport. At the very least, my bag is black, it is NOT a woman’s bag, and is at least functional! He’s carrying a small colorful pocketbook for God’s sake – and how much can that even hold? I have a beer holster strapped to my leg that can carry more than his bag can. I don’t know how he isn’t afraid of purse snatchers… Not to sound sexist, but is it still called a purse snatching when the carrier of the purse is a man?   
 

My wife carries a diaper bag for my son, yet I try to put one or two (or ten) things into it and all of a sudden I’m a bad person. That bag is bigger than the both of us, yet I can’t get a tiny corner for my essentials? It’s not like we can’t take his stuff and mine together in the bag – there’s not a space limit or weight restriction that I don’t know about is there? Why not get a bag with wheels anyway? It’s much more convenient to drag than carry it…

 

While we’re on the subject, I’m not even sure there is a difference between my son’s diaper bag and my mocketbook anyway.  The bottom line is that we both have emergency supplies for cleanup on the off chance one of us shits our pants! Am I wrong? Believe me, if I could fit a change of clothes and toiletries in my bag with all my other shit, I would.      

 

You're telling me there's no room for a few of my things in there?

 

If you’re reading this and thinking that I’m ready for my Hoarders audition, just imagine what my office looks like! This is coming from the same person that keeps an extra bottle of febreze in my car just in case a fart gets trapped in there…

 

I’m all for having something handy in case there’s an emergency, but this is ridiculous – even for me. The bag is heavier than my coffee table and yet I cannot think of one of these things that shouldn’t be in there or that I don’t absolutely need. I realize that I am being obsessive and at this point, excessive, but this shouldn’t count – I need these things.  What’s a guy to do? And guys, what random things are you carrying in your mocketbook?

If they see this face, they’ll never book!!! Why I’m not using Facebook with my clients

I am one of the few, the proud – The Facebook haters. I tried to ignore it for so long, but I have finally given in and now have a Facebook page. I do it only to get people to read my website blog, but I hate, hate, hate it. I definitely have the face for radio so I do not need any prospective clients to see me online because If they see this face – they’ll never book!   

I think that at the heart of it, I just don’t get Facebook. I’m a mid-thirties guy that feels like I’m up on what’s current – but I just can’t see the point. It’s supposed to be “The Great Connector” bringing everyone together, but how?

We see the value of face-to-face meetings over anything else every day, but with Facebook you’ll never actually have to be face-to-face with anyone again. You can put up a picture, write on their wall, poke a friend – whatever the hell that means or is good for, but that’s the extent of your relationship. You will never call them again or have to ask about anyone’s family because you can see their pictures and read all about their vacations on their wall. It virtually eliminates the need for telephone calls, letters, or (God Forbid) in-person visits. Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I think that stinks. For my birthday, I want the people that care about me to actually remember the date on their own, put a little thought into it, and then pick out and send me an actual greeting card for my birthday. And send it In the Real Mail!  

We have turned into a sad ADD, quick-post society and forgot about the basics. We fall into these 140 character short message people that cannot process a simple conversation. Blackberries and IPhones (The new dirty mistress of many corporate professionals) are a separate story entirely. We are held hostage and feel like we need to post our every mood and move or check our wall and hear about the newest Facebook apps. If you’re not a manic Facebook Frequent poster, than you definitely know someone that is.

Also, what’s with the incomplete, cryptic messages like “cannot believe it?” What can’t you believe? I have no idea what half the people I’m friends with are talking about and I cannot be the only one. Did you ever hear the old expression don’t bury the lead? Let someone know what the heck you’re talking about.     

That’s not to say there aren’t any positive things about Facebook. People learn practical and valuable skills every day.  I am actually so proud that my sister (who couldn’t be trusted to watch my guinea pig Liz for one weekend without killing it) is now a proficient agriculturist with thriving herds and crops in her pasture and that my father is exploring his Italian heritage with Mafia Wars. What’s with the Ancestry requests? I need to click so you realize that I’m your son and we’re related? Marlene tells me all the time how she has no time to get anything done around the house; of course she doesn’t – she spends her whole day tending to the crops and feeding the animals. She is a housewife, but how can her husband expect her to cook dinner or do the laundry after working the fields all day?

Also, I can now “friend request” back and forth with the people in High School and College that knew me when I had a mustache and mullet that I thought made me look cool like Tom Selleck in Magnum PI, but actually looked more like Dennis Spade in Joe Dirt. These are people that I made fun of, got beat up by, dated and then hated, and generally don’t keep in touch with. If we were that close we would have kept in touch. Now I have to feel guilty if I don’t let them be my friend. I’m Catholic, we’re bred to feel guilty – it’s been ingrained in me for the past thirty years. If anyone sends me a friend request, I feel bad to say no or decline them and I let them be my friend because no one likes rejection. Even with people I don’t like, I let them in. I’m a sucker. I have work people that are looking to be friends and I just cannot say no. Keep in mind that these are people that I can’t stand and don’t want to eat lunch with, nonetheless hear about their summer in The Outer Banks or see their cat cleaning himself while perched atop their living room curtains.

Everyone puts every picture they have ever taken up there for the world to see and sometimes the people in the photos don’t even know it. The last thing I need is for a prospective client to see me fist pumping with Snooki last weekend in Hackensack or doing keg-stands in my underwear back in college. People pop up in other albums and they have no control over them. My friend Mary has group pictures in her album, and our other friend Susan looks like she’s in the middle of an epileptic fit in one photo. Unflattering photos are funny to see, but the person looking foolish should be the one to decide who gets to see it.

I know that there are privacy settings and you can limit who sees or reads what, but I still don’t agree with it or trust it. I don’t want people I don’t know to see pictures of my son and hear all about his personal details. I feel like it makes it less personal and takes something away from it. Also, and let’s be honest and loud and clear here; not every baby is cute. This is extremely difficult because I’m the parent of a really really cute kid but I have friends that aren’t and that is a very hard lesson for them to learn. Especially when people see my cute baby in his Gap Jeans and Kenneth Cole hoodie and then they go and put up a picture of their little troll with the misshapen head and lazy eye. You know what an ugly baby in really cute clothes is? A Wannabe!         

While we’re at it, Caroline – I don’t care which Glligan’s Island character you are, stop sending me that nonsense and get back to work! Paul, if you send me one more “what NFL player are you? I’m going to come to your house and feed your cat chili and then lock it in your bedroom. Randi, let me just say that if you have a top-ten stalkers list – that means something is really wrong with you! And Missy, I’m never going to build a civilization and attack my friend’s empire, so please stop asking.

In the whole Social media vein, I hate Facebook, but I will not even discuss Twitter. I’m not David Koresh looking for my own Branch Davidians, so anything advocating me having “followers” goes against my long held, anti-Cult stance. I’m not George Clooney or Brad Pitt doing anything of any importance so who really cares if I go to the library or to the movies?  Why do I need followers? Who should we be followers of – Kanye West?  He’s a musical genius, but what in the world could he be spouting that is of any consequence to me? What about the lessons we teach kids about never being a follower? Throw them right out the window with the art of sending a hand-written thank you card.

In all seriousness, I can see that there are positive things to be gained by using Facebook but for business, I just don’t see it for me. I don’t think our clients should (or even want to) know that much about our personal lives. It’s inappropriate and if you turn them down, you’re rejecting them. We work so hard to maintain our reputation and control the light our clients see us in and Facebook can darken that in an instant. Now that I’m off my tangent – let me go and pretend that I’m not annoyed that my friends have checked their fortunes with Madame Sonia and felt the need to share it with me.