Reeperbahn Festival Day 1

I remember once reading an Onion headline that went something like this:

"Entire Town Secretly in Love with Lady who Works at the Coffee Shop."

That's one of the reasons why The Asteroids Galaxy Tour was my favorite act from last night. She's going to be a star.

Enjoy!

The Presidential Debates: A Modest Proposal

Here’s a little secret:

I’ve never been a huge fan of watching the Presidential debates.

I do it, but I'm not always happy about it. I find them to be, by and large, unsatisfying. A bit like eating empty calories or staying at the bar too long.

I wasn’t always this way. When I was younger I kind of romanticized them as some super important civic duty that all intelligent adults participated in. All the adults would watch the debates, judiciously weigh the merits of the arguments, and then cast their ballots for the candidate most fit for the job.

What a bunch of mature, democratic participants they all were. I couldn’t wait.

But now that I’m all grown-up, I know (like most people) that the debates are mostly bullshit. They’re two candidates bandying about worn-down-to-the-nub talking points for a bunch of people who have already made up their minds who they’re voting for. If all goes well, the candidate you are cheering against will make some sort of horribly embarrassing linguistic misstep and the candidate that you are cheering for will make the audience laugh.

Don’t get me wrong, the debates aren’t all bad. In fact, some of the weaknesses of the whole production also produce some of its strengths.

You know how we always have a graph to see if the audience is reacting positively or negatively to a candidate? That’s great. I love that kind of stuff. We find out all sorts of sociological stuff about how an audience reacts to speeches. Or at least how they say they react. Or, at the very least, how they think the should be reacting.

We're also able, luckily, to find out all sorts of things about the candidates themselves. Like if they’re attractive or sweat a lot on stage or speak with a funny voice.

Which is fine. We’re not really there to break down a wide range of complex policy issues in a couple hours. If that's what you’re about then roll up your sleeves, go to the internet and start doing your research.

But debates aren’t for that. Debates are, for better or worse, all about rhetorical ability, eloquence, stage presence, facility with language, likeability, tone, and, most importantly, the ability to make quasi-factual policy arguments that most of us have already heard a number of times before in past presidential debates.

Let me reiterate. I’m not saying this is necessarily a bad thing. Given the relatively negligible policy differences between the Democrats, it’s for exactly some of these reasons (attractiveness, eloquence, je ne sais quoi, etc.) that I supported Barack Obama in the caucuses. Since the American people eat this stuff up, I felt like he was probably the best positioned of the lot to implement a left-of-center platform.

And, of course, the pageantry part of the race is actually quite fun to hash and re-hash. Who looked more presidential? Who seemed overly aggressive? Overly-passive? Who shouldn’t have answered question #1 so quickly but should have definitely taken a respectful little pause before launching so quickly into #2? Who got more laughs from the crowd? Who was more comfortable?

If you don’t have answers to any of these questions yet, don’t worry. You’ll have them formed for you as you watch the next two days coverage of every national news outlet in the country.

Although some of the qualities listed above may be important for evaluating such things as consensus building and diplomacy, many of them are not of critical importance for evaluating the merits of the different policy positions of a specific candidate.

So, as we arrive at the day of the first presidential debate of the year -- one that may or may not take place-- I’ve been thinking: is there a way we can evaluate all of these qualities in a more creative and viewer friendly way?

Which leads me to my idea.

If the debates really are all about things like quick-wittedness and poise (they are), why not strip the whole charade of its faux-gravitas and make it more transparent. Let’s make them debate something completely inconsequential.

Like a favorite color.

Here’s how this would work:

Jim Lehrer:

“Colors are a very important part of American History. They bring life to our films, make our surroundings more livable, and allow for ambiguity in a political environment which, as we are learning more every year, is not so black and white. Which brings me to the first question of the night. . .(dramatic pause)

Which color do you prefer: green or orange? And why?

Senator Obama, you have one minute to respond.

Obama:

Jim, first of all thank you for moderating this historic debate and thank you for giving me the opportunity to speak to the American people about the important issues that we’ll have to face in the future (audience experiences first feelings of self-importance. Audience poll approval up 2%).

Now let me begin by saying this: I understand that there are many, many supporters of orange out there in the audience tonight and also across our great country. Orange has played a vital role in how we understand ourselves. It is the sun in our sky that brings warmth to this earth, the basketball on the court where our children play, the citrus crop that grow in fields across our great nation. . . especially Florida (mild laughter).

That being said, I choose green. And no, it’s not because I want you to vote green (more mild laughter from audience). That gave us the last 8 years (wild clapping at Bush-slam, audience approval up 2%). And it’s not because, as my opponent wants you to believe, that I myself am a little green (cocksure grin, laughter). Because, as I’ve said before, I’ll have the experience debate with anyone.

It’s because green is the color of growth. Green is money. It’s using that money to build an economy that works for everyone. Green is sustainable growth and an energy policy that doesn’t rely on archaic, fossil fuel technology.

Jim: Mr. Obama, you’re time is. . .

Obama: Just a second Jim, it’s an important point I’m making here about colors. And I think it’s important for the American people too. The American people know that I respect orange and realize that orange has many contributions to make. Orange certainly gets a seat at the table, no doubt about that. But green is my choice. And I ask you this to conclude: have you ever seen any growth without a little bit of green at the root? (Audience approval up 2% for confusing, money-growth-environment tie-in on the fly).

Jim: Senator McCain, you have 30 seconds.

McCain:

Frankly Jim, I was raised thinking the most important colors in this country are red, white, and blue (pause for audience laughter, wild applause, admiration, and an 8% increase in audience poll approval). And while I appreciate the question, I’m just not willing to believe that green and orange are the only two options.

And that might not be what the people want to hear, but, I’m sorry to break it to everyone, the President of the United States isn’t always going to be able to tell the people what they want to hear (audience approval rating plunges 12%).

Jim: Mr. Obama, a 15 second rebuttal.

Obama:

I’m sorry Jim, but this is politics as usual, implying that because I didn’t mention red, white and blue that I’m somehow not as patriotic. Enough is enough. Mr. McCain’s refusal to answer the question outright I think exhibits a sheer unwillingness to face the real problems that our country is facing. We don’t always get to answer the questions we WANT to; sometimes, we have to answer the questions that we HAVE to. (Audience appreciation and corresponding 4% rise in audience approval rating, all of whom are fickle idiots).

So that’s how it would work. Pretty cool right?

And you know what’s so great about this type of format?

We'd still discover all sorts of things about the candidates’ attractiveness, poise, sense of humor, public speaking ability, and ability to form arguments. We could evaluate it all. And at least we’d be honest to ourselves about the bullshit that we’re evaluating.

Of course, variations of this format could go on ad infinitum. The next debate could be the “Would you rather debate?” (E.g. --Senator McCain, would you rather be Spiderman or Superman? And Why?)

And the one after that could be the Rorschach inkblot debate (“Right-side-up it kind of looks like Hope, but upside-down it looks more like Change”).

But I’ll let CNN work out the details.

Unless they think this whole idea is just a bunch of bullshit.

Which, of course, is exactly what it is.

Hamburg: A City of Two Tales

Tale #1 in Present Tense:

My Guardian Angel or: You Only Get One Chance to Make a First Impression

So the first place I seek out when I arrive at the airport is the information booth. I have a general idea where I am going, but would love the reassurance that comes with the input of an official looking person.

The woman at the information desk is very helpful. “You will take bus #110 to Ohlsdorf and then take the U-3 to Feldstrasse,” she says, smiling. “You can either purchase a one ride ticket or an all day ticket.”

I am about to nod and say my thank yous when I hear a man from the other end of the counter. “Or, you can take my ticket,” he says, also smiling.

And then he gives me his ticket. A 5 Euro all day pass for the bus. He has already arrived for his flight so it is not a problem. He strongly resembles Michael Stipe.

“I love Hamburg already,” I say excitedly, punctuating the remark with an American-sized thumbs-up. The two Hamburgers wave me goodbye as I make my way to the bus stop.

What a charitable, friendly city, I think as I walk away, ticket firmly in hand. I am so amazed that I quickly lose my way.

“Over here,” says a man. It is Michael Stipe again (although from this angle he bears a closer resemblance to Moby). He is waving me over. He politely explains my error and then, lest there be any confusion, personally walks me to the bus stop.

In our 45 second walk he explains that he is a student at the University of Hamburg and that I am going to love the city. This kind of thing (helping people) is not at all unordinary in Hamburg, he explains. Then he shakes my hand, says “Have a great life,” and walks back into the throngs of the airport, eventually disappearing into a delicate mist (vaguely resembling gossamer wings) that floats slowly into the sky.

How’s that for a first impression. Hand that man an ambassadorship.

Tale #2 in Past Tense:

My First Foray into Vigilante Justice or: When Things Become Hostel.

On Thursday night I came back to my hostel at around 11:30 after going out to a bar with some of the Bucerius University people. When I arrived, I was delighted to find that I was the only person in the 8-bed room. No people, no bags, nothing. I had the entire room to myself, which was great because I had Orientation early the next morning.

It seemed almost too good to be true. . .

And of course, it was.

At about 3:00 in the morning, 4 loud, drunk Germans came into the room. They immediately turned on the lights, cracked open their beers and began singing (the song had no lyrics just “na na na na” ). They also began to--and I’m not exaggerating-- POUND ON THE WALLS.

Now, I’ve slept in my fair share of hostels. I am aware that a certain amount of partying and noise is unavoidable (details here). That’s part of the risk of staying in a hostel. People talk, people come in at late hours; they trip and fall and swear and, occasionally, hook-up. But this was far beyond the pale of what is acceptable behavior, even for a hippy backpacker hostel. This was a grave breach of hostel etiquette.

I sat up in my bed, looked at them and said “Seriously guys?” The four of them gave me one of those “what’s the problem?” looks. I explained, as I would to a four-year-old, that it’s harder for some people to sleep when there is singing and pounding than when there isn’t.

“Ja Ja Ja,” they replied, “We turn off the light.”

Great. The light.

The light went off, and there was a reduction in the brouhaha, but the singing did not end. And it took about 30 minutes to completely wind down.

Bide your time Gregory, I said to myself. And bide my time I did.

At around 6:30 am, when my alarm went off.

On waking up I saw that the four young men, having sung and drank themselves to sleep, were now snoozing away like babies. It was adorable.

And more importantly, it appeared that the tables had now turned.

Advantage: Gregory.

I savored the process of getting up and packing my bags. I slammed lockers, kicked empty beer bottles, and opened the window so that the human and automobile traffic could be heard at full volume. My fits of coughing were prolonged and intense; I even unnecessarily zipped and unzipped my backpack. Absolutely no action was too trivial to be done noiselessly. I ran around the room like the proverbial bull in the china shop.

“Was?” several of them said, confused and sitting up in their beds.

And that’s when they saw me in my vengeful, noisy glory and hazily began to recollect their offenses from the previous night.

Having apparently recognized the genius of my plan and righteousness of my cause, they were generally good-natured about their premature awakening. Two of them clapped and chuckled. Another simply couldn’t be bothered.

I wish I would’ve said something cool or memorable as I left. Maybe something that some exotic, evil-genius villain would say in a movie (“It appears, my friends, as if zie hunter has become zie hunted”).

But I opted for the significantly more prosaic: “Have a great day friends.” And then I gave everyone a thumbs-up (again, American-sized) and left the room confident that justice had been served.

It was a very exhilarating and inspiring start to my day. Like having two extra cups of coffee.

And now, I leave you to contemplate a relevant quote by Bill Murray in the movie The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (paraphrase):

Reporter: “If this is the only shark of its kind, what would be the scientific reasons for killing it?”

Bill Murray: “Revenge.”

Oh See Eye: On Word Games and Interview Season

First things first. I promised myself when I started this blog that I would never, ever apologize for not writing. I always hated tuning into a blogs and read something along these lines: “Sorry I haven’t written for a while, but . . .” What am I, your editor?

Stop with the apologies and write something.

Or don’t. What do I care?

The point of having a blog at all is that you don’t have deadlines, nobody forces you to write, and for the most part, nobody reads it. That being said, this particular period of textual drought was particularly egregious, so I figured I would at least acknowledge it.

Consider it acknowledged (Jon).

And yes, I have been a little bit busy for the last few weeks. Why? OCI.

There is this crazy thing at the end of the summer (and fall and spring) called “On Campus Interviews.” It’s where law firms visit the campus in search of the students they believe would make a good fit for their firm. For around 5 days you and your peers will interview, schmooze, drink, eat, and charm your way to positions in firms from around the nation.

So, in the last three weeks I’ve spent around 27 hours speaking to approximately 52 lawyers in several cities from about 15 different firms. I also went to the State Fair. Twice. (Hi Katie!)

And the great part about this whole OCI thing was that I actually found the vast majority of it to be quite enjoyable. Nearly everyone I met was collegial, chatty, and had a good deal of helpful things to teach me about the practice of law. Plus the food was excellent and the drinks plentiful.

Here’s a breakdown of what to expect should you ever go through a similar situation.

The interviews on campus

A lot of people don’t like the endless interviewing because they find it tedious and superficial. I don’t mind it one bit. Honestly. And it’s not just that I’m a desperately lonely and love-deprived hermit who craves eye contact and probing questions (although that’s obviously part of it).

It’s that I don’t mind small talk. I don’t mind engaging complete strangers in conversation and seeing where it leads. I’ve never minded striking up conversations in a bar, waiting in line, or sitting on a plane or bus.

True, this can backfire. There’s nothing worth than starting a lengthy conversation with a voluble dullard whilst a stellar book sits neglected in your backpack.

Or there was that one time I was seated next to a soul-saving-proselytizer.

Shoot. Me. Now.

Of course, interviews don’t have this problem. Even if you don’t absolutely hit it off, the interview’s only scheduled for 20 minutes, so you have an easy out. One interviewer and I compared the whole process to speed dating: an opportunity to get to know as many people as quickly as possible in the hopes of finding that cosmic match along the way.

The interviewer noted that she would have liked to have had more time to ask her questions. I actually thought that 20 minutes was too much. Which makes sense because my history indicates that I tend to say something inappropriate after right around 17 minutes of uninterrupted conversation.

I actually think that they could probably do the same thing in about 5 minutes. For me, it tends to be about warmth, tone, and effort, all of which can be determined shortly after the personality leaves the gate. (The downside to this foreshortened approach is what speed-datalogists call the Hans Solo/Princess Leah conundrum: when a relationship begins with outward hostility but ends with a galaxy-saving/empire-destroying union of two perfectly matched souls).

So I guess it’s a trade-off. You might miss out on your Hans Solo, but you can certainly weed out the Chewbaccas. (Hint: they hit people and scream incomprehensibly a lot).

In my opinion the best interviews were the ones that for some reason or other were unique. The interviewer was exceptionally candid or the discussion was particularly lively and interesting. That sort of thing.

For example, in one of the best interviews I had, both interviewers told me stories about how, at one point they had left their firms, only to eventually come back. The reason for their triumphant returns? They missed their friends.

AAHHH.

At the time, it was the most endearing endorsement for the intangibles of a law firm that I had heard all week.

Then there was the interviewer who continuously assured me that his firm had one of the lowest “Asshole Quotients” ( AQ’s) he’d ever seen. He was incredibly excited about the whole thing. Obviously, he explained, you’re never going to find an asshole quotient of zero, but his firm comes pretty close. Since he seemed to be about the farthest thing from an asshole I could conceive of, I believed him.

Then there was the interview outside in the sun on a bench. Nice touch.

So those are my thoughts on the interviews. Largely positive. True, there are a few downsides: you’re nervous and it’s kind of an artificial situation that and sort of thing. But if you don’t mind small talk you should be just fine. Besides, from what I found, the AQ at these kinds of things is incredibly low.

The Receptions

If the interviews weren’t really your style-- too stuffy and formal—then there’s a good chance that you were at the receptions that the different firms were hosting. These receptions were very valuable because they offered the employers and employees a chance to get to know each other in a more informal setting. And they also had booze.

During OCI Orientation we were encouraged, like always, to drink responsibly. I think the laughably low figure of one drink was thrown around as being a prudent amount.

But who really gains if we all stick to one drink? For those of you interested in politics, you are probably familiar with the term “kick the tires.”

These receptions are the hiring partners way (and ours as well) of “kicking the tires.” Sure he’s tolerable in an interview for twenty minutes or so, but what happens when we expose him to a free bar?

Does he begin dropping plates? Is his nametag on upside down? If we give out large bouncy balls as a party favor, will he begin to bounce it before leaving the function? (He will).

The basic idea is that you will have the opportunity to socialize with the person that either a) has already interviewed you for a job, or b) will be interviewing you for a job the following day. Since the students tend to far outnumber the interviewers the whole enterprise has a kind of ingratiating and ass-kissing feel to it.

That’s not a dig at the event. In fact, given everyone’s unusually pleasant and polite disposition, I think it’s an endorsement. Every joke is well received and every smile freely given as the students try to make a favorable impression on their fondest firms. And if you’re having trouble catching the attention of your latest crush/firm, you can hang out and have a couple of drinks with your friends. It’s an absolute ball.

Usually these kinds of receptions were hosted at a local bar, but the most bizarre and post-modern, (and surely the one most open to interpretation) was hosted at the Englert Theater in downtown Iowa City. At the theater, students smiled, mingled and drank expensive drinks on a lighted stage while decisions concerning their fate were being conducted by mysterious and powerful entities behind the scenes. I almost felt like I was watching my own personal version of Mulholland Drive. Of course, consistent with Lynchian tone and sense of humor, the seats of the theater remained dark and empty.

Make of that what you will.

The Errors

If I was giving myself a rating for the last few weeks, I would say that I batted .289 with a couple of homers and maybe 5 errors. This means that I will not win a golden glove award for flawlessness, but I feel like I can contribute on someone’s roster.

Error #1

Of these errors, the weirdest and most notable by far was putting the word “Scabble” on my résumé instead of the more commonly used “Scrabble.” For those of you unfamiliar, Scrabble is a popular household word game. (Note: though I contemplated listing Scrabble under the “skills” section, I eventually included it under the “interests” section or my résumé).

To begin, this is quite possibly the most ironic typographical error in the history of résumés. Ever.

To paraphrase Churchill (or somebody), it is a layer of irony wrapped in a nougat of unexpectedness and stuffed in a riotously funny Russian doll of humor.

First, the word Scrabble is itself a sort of made up word. As far as I know, it doesn’t exist in dictionaries nor is it a playable Scrabble word. So technically I misspelled a fake, made-up word. Funny stuff.

Second, and most glaring of course, was that Scrabble is a word game in which one must correctly spell a word to be successful. Thus, my claim that I have both an interest in and aptitude for the game instantly becomes unconvincing.

Let me repeat: I MISPELLED THE NAME OF A WORD GAME ON MY RESUME !

Of course, when it was brought to my attention I immediately uploaded a revised edition of my résumé for potential employers. Apparently though, all the employers had all downloaded the original version and had it lying out in front of them before the interview even began. The damage had been done.

The funny thing about this? It might have been colossally stupid, but it might also have been unintentionally brilliant. The first three minutes of every interview were spent dissecting the implications of such a bizarre typo. Several people “challenged” my spelling. One wondered if I was really as good a “scabble” player as I claimed to be and followed it with a hearty chuckle. Everyone seemed to be at least mildly amused at the novel and unconventional nature of the faux-pas.

At this point I've convinced myself that the error was at the very least a wash and moved on with my life.

Error #2

Though it wasn’t nearly as grave as the Scabble situation, I was also bit directly in the face by my friend’s bulldog just two days before several call-back interviews. She was just playing, but there was a noticeable half-inch gash between my eyes. A friend of mine suggested make-up, but he works in broadcasting so that’s his solution to everything. In the end I sucked it up and finished out my week.

Conclusion

In executive summary form, here are my suggestions for completing a successful OCI:

· Enjoy the food
· Enjoy the drink
· Enjoy the conversation
· Learn something
· Spell check
· Avoid bulldogs