Shield Brand 101

This weekend, while working on Longshot magazine, Will went out and bought us some new ping pong balls for our resurrected office table. This helped alleviate the stress of completing an entire magazine in 48 hours. The packaging was so nice, I had to scan it in. Full size version can be found here.

The experience of working on Longshot deserves a much more in-depth write up, but sadly, my brainball is totally deflated after this weekend. It was amazing though, and I couldn't be more proud of the product, which you can buy here. Big thanks to the entire Longshot team, and extra large thanks to Keith Scharwath for letting me participate. Would happily do it again, if not just for the free Pop Chips and beer.

GOOD × Education

Here is the poster that will greet people for the upcoming series of talks about education being held here at the GOOD offices. Pretty excited about these discussions, especially with the tumultuous nature of contemporary education right now. Apparently tonight's offering will potentially be pretty combative.

Here is the program I also designed. It's kind of fun when all of this stuff pulls together in a few hours the day before an event.

Fizzed Bounty

I finally made it out to Galco's Soda Pop Stop in Highland Park yesterday. Galco's is a long standing, independent grocer that specializes in small market sodas. If you have 12 minutes, you should watch the video above. Going to Galco's has been something I've been intending to do for a couple of months now, but for whatever reason I just hadn't accomplished the task. I think maybe my personal affinity for soda makes it almost seem seedy to go there, rather than an enjoyable excursion for fun. My struggles with sugar water is well documented, so I won't bore anyone with the exposition.

What got me there was my friend Theo bringing up his own personal desire to try a wide variety of root beers and cream sodas, primarily to break it all down bracket style, like his own personal March Madness. I'm hoping he wasn't joking, because that would be something to really behold. Irregardless, we both decided it was due time for us to pay a visit.

First off, Galco's is great. It has a real family feel that is not at all forced. It almost felt like I was stepping back into days of my youth, hanging out in my grandfather's auto parts store in Cheyenne; the staff are all kind, informed, but not clinical in how they talk to you. There's a real passion for independence here, and in a way, sustainability. You can tell that Galco's doesn't approach the subject in a ham-handed way, but rather was the logical reason for what goes on the shelves. Glass, and only glass is what you see. There is evidence of reuse, both in strict recycling, and in the way in which they box up your final purchase. I don't think these are political considerations, but just they way things should be done.



Theo and I were lost amongst two aisles of cascading colors and graphics. The selection is daunting, which is weird considering how little of the actual aisle space it takes up in the store. There were other items sold here, primarily alcohol (looks like the beer selection is also pretty great), candy and other snacks. I found everything I could have ever wanted though, soda wise. I grabbed some Sprecher's Root Beer, which I had missed greatly since my departure from the midwest. Also got some Bubble Up, RC Cola, Dog n Suds, Frosties, and a few others. The bounty was rich, as you can see.



This is what I'm drinking today. Cheerwine, a cherry soft drink from North Carolina. It is crisp and refreshing, with a pretty nice and understated label. Check out that "C" extending as an underline, and the weird half-ligature overlap going on with the "r" and "w". I'm sure I'll review others as I go along. I have to limit myself though, because this could get bad fast if they all taste this good.

Outerwear

It's tough not to wear it on your shoulder. I don't know how many inches to dish out regarding the personal upheaval, but rest assured I'm ardently working on turning this ship around. It's just tough. No one has ever accused me of being able to side step these emotional landmines, because that's obviously not my nature. I'm a composed mass of exposed senses, heightened and aware at all times. I react swiftly and in a prolonged timetable. I just have to work through it through work, I guess.

Archival Chromed

I can't really tell what candor to take with this blog anymore. Should it be about "feelings" and exploits, or about interests and information? Does content need to be identified editorially if it's personal, or is that a quibble that only I care about? There's been a lot on my mindgrapes lately, and I'm just unsure what the protocol is any longer.

The largest item plugging away in the hull atop my shoulders is the compartmentalization and sprawl of all the people I love far away from me. From my girlfriend to my family to my beloved friends, I am periphery to their lives — half due to my fleeting attempts at proper communication and the other half because of distance. I'm incapable of fully grasping how this happened, really. Isn't there some sort of romantic notion to carrying those people close to you through thick and thin? Aren't you supposed to be near? I suppose the same level of romance can be attributed to someone who leaves; a lone soul living by way of travel and fleeting encounters.

I'm rambling. I'm aware I'm rambling, but bear with me. All of these things need to be thought out and captured in a net of text for me to further look back on, and if I make that net public than perhaps others can lend their voice to these questions. Smarter, more capable people than myself. Not to sound trite and sad, but it just gets hard, you know? To amass those feelings and people only to watch them board planes and pack into cars and you do the same. Measuring the worth of a relationship by a calender as opposed to a more internal mechanism, one that rationalizes the interaction and connection. It shouldn't be about what can be accomplished on a deadline before departing but about shared levels of emotional singularity. Understandably, singularity might be the wrong word, but it's what feels right. The notion of shared experience that draws out resonance of me to you, making an us. I don't have that with those closest to me right now. Honestly, I don't know when I will. This also isn't to write off or ignore those fledgling friendships I have made here, of which I'm three thousand times more grateful for than your initial radar might read. There are great people with me, they just aren't the inner circle yet.

Course of action? Unknown. I cannot begin to untangle this knot because doing so might present fuses and triggers. Those things could be lit or hit and BOOM, the whole building goes up. I'm just looking for something between the lines of text or the quietness on the receiver. There's a sensitivity to the inaction I'm honing in on. It's not to make a rationalization or decision, just to be aware, like learning anything. I'm a student of seeing the silence now. I'm a disciple of misunderstandings. The wire gone cold, am I just archiving these feelings? I would prefer to keep making new ones.

The Line

If you have the unfortunate pleasure of following me on twitter, than you might well be aware of my recent travel woes. Now, I imagine most people found it annoying of me to live-tweet every experience I had (seriously was so grossed out about the zit couple though), but this is my second go 'round on a hassled travel event, and I wanted to keep the memories fresh because that last one actually taught me a lot about patience, kindness and having a good human spirit.

I won't bore you with the specifics, and I have a feeling the overall story might be best served with a few cool beers and conversation than me regaling people with what is probably a pretty boring story in the written word. The Reader's Digest version is that storms struck Chicago yesterday, delaying many flights, but most notably those of United Airlines. Again, if you were following my tweets, you know I was none too happy with United, but you might be asking yourself, "Die-lon, they don't control the weather! Not like Storm is up thurr in the control tower flicking her wrists and flashing lightening." You are right, and I fully accept the mantra of "shit happens," but this is no excuse for a company to not inform its customers of what is actually going on. There were long stretches wherein we had no idea why there were certain delays, only to find out in the end that they weren't storm related, but purely managing oversights: sending our intended plane — that was on time — to a different gate; not informing the staff arriving on the separate (but 5 hour delayed) plane that we were boarding that they were flying to Los Angeles, making three flight attendants illegal for flight; not also calling separate pilots to be on standby, because they were an hour away from being illegal themselves.

These are just a few of the problems experienced at United. This doesn't include the three-plus hour long "customer service" line, or the fact that they cancelled another flight out to L.A. because they were missing a pilot, after everyone was in line to board and the standby list had been fully filled out. All of these things could have either been handled better by a major airline, or at least told to their customers in a more timely and less divisive manner.

Still though, lessons were learned, and mostly all were positive. While disembarking from the plane after being grounded for three hours, most of the strangers around me began commiserating while exiting the plane and moving directly the two-thirds-of-a-football-field customer service line just outside our gate. I, too, found myself in casual conversation with those around me, all of us piecing together information, sharing and joking with what little we actually knew of the situation. Most notably, I met a small group of women in front of me who were all very different but very awesome. There was a small Iranian-born woman who befriended me ("Deelahn, would you mind saving my space, I need tu charge my phone!"), a nice, old German woman with stunningly neon pink lipstick on, who was trying to get to San Francisco after having a hassle traveling back from Munich, a pretty lively woman from Los Angeles but living in Chicago who kept saying things like, "It's a dog ea' dog world out there," and "Nuh huh, there is NO WAY I'm not getting to L.A., TONIGHT." and, lastly, a grandmotherly, but salty Korean woman who was traveling with just one box in a bag. My favorite moment of her's was when she explained her travels as this, "My granddaughter booked this flight for me. What, I don't know how to book a flight? I never book on United. United SUCKS. I mean, look at this line? They SUCK. I'm never having my granddaughter pick out anything for me again."

There were many pleasantries and jokes shared amongst us. Most of these women were traveling to see family based in Los Angeles, which I learned a lot about because of our similar ages. I liked the idea and expectation that I'd look up their kids and suddenly have a crazy motley crew of friends, "Remember when I was locked up for a night with all your moms and grandmas? Thoooose were the daaaays." I also met a really nice U.S. history teacher from Minnesota, and we talked Twins — we agreed there needs to be an ace on staff or we're not gonna go deep in the playoffs — as well as Teach for America, the education system in general and his students, who were headed for a trip across the east coast, studying all of America's founding landmarks. I also met a super nice Australian guy in a sharp suit that had clearly been marred by the waiting of the day, but still stylish. He told me that there were no hotel rooms near the aiprot, which was a bummer, but he had gathered valuable info about our flight the next morning and that he found a hotel 10 miles away, but it sounded like rooms were going fast.

By the end of the night, most didn't get out of the airport, either by flight or for a room. People split off into family units or to where their needs lied: outlets, food, or space to sleep. I plugged in my fully dead computer and fully dead phone and began to inform everyone in Los Angeles and back home that I wouldn't' be making it that night. This wasn't done with any tinge of sadness, because by the end of that line I had met some pretty interesting and wonderful people. I had also learned that when things aren't going well, people really do tend to make the best of it. At any point people would have been within their rights to lose it. There was a powder keg feeling throughout the day, but everyone remained calm and mostly there were shared "good grief" type smiles as opposed to raised voices. That's why I wasn't really upset when I finally was able to communicate to the world. I was just so tired and worried about my job that I hammered out a few emails and then just tried to relax, kicking on X Files and zoning out in the brightly lit, nearly silent airport.

I'm home now after a 6:30 am CST flight. My body succumbed to sleep at around 10:45 am PST, and now I'm wide awake, bounding around the internet, anticipating getting back to some normalcy tomorrow. Small slices of strange in your life can be good though, and I'm glad I got to eat that humble pie. It made me all the more appreciative for the world I share with all these amazing people. Travel lightly, friends.

Introducing! 020

Here is a sneak peek at the next issue of GOOD, the New Orleans issue. I am traveling back from Burlington, VT — where I was on press — as we speak. Really. I'm in O'Hare awaiting my connection to LA and I'm trying to watch the USA v Algeria game on some very spotty wifi. I've gone next level, it's true.

This issue focuses on New Orleans in a lot of ways, from the rebirth and rejuvenation to critical assessments of what is happening there, from media, housing, environment and culture. Nessim Higson was our guest art director, a resident of New Orleans with deep connections to other talented individuals in the crescent city, like Daymon Gardner, who took the cover photo and quite a few other shots for the issue. All the art on the pages comes from creative folks who are currently living or were originally from New Orleans. That's not to say it feels of a certain voice or aesthetic, as the creative community in NOLA is incredibly varying and all great in different ways. Of course, the writing is sharp and fun, also with a focus on featuring local voices speaking on issues important to the city.

Couldn't be more grateful to have worked on something like this and I hope people are as excited once it hits stands as we all were to make it.