Before I complain, I have been comfortable, mostly, during my 8-days at the Ramada Medford in Medford, Oregon. Sometimes I have one coffee, sometimes I have two, and sometimes non, but that’s OK. The breakfast offers lovely bottomless sausage and self-made Belgian waffles, the price is right, and I am close to Ashland.

That would have been my review of the Ramada in Medford, Oregon, had Sanjay not walked into my room at 10:30am this morning, with nary a knock, to ask me, in person I guess, if I was checking out today.

I had hung the “do not disturb” sign on the door handle last night as I got home from Martino’s, in Ashland, late and wanted to just read the paper on my Kindle while listening to Weekend Morning Edition on NPR via my iPad.

I didn’t bolt the door nor did I flip the lock as I didn’t feel in danger and felt prepared it danger were to come — but not in the form of the cleaning service manager.

He let himself in and I jumped off the bed and he stood there, looking at his list of check outs and saying, “are you checking out?”

I replied, “supposedly yes, but it is none of your business since checkout isn’t until noon and it is ten-thirty … and what is your name?”

“Sorry sir, sorry sir, sorry sir,” said this man, not answering my question.

I bellowed, “what is your name?” I am 6′ 3″ and over 280 lbs and can look very intimidating, I guess, if you don’t know me…

“Sorry sir, sorry sir, sirry sir, he said, backing up, as the door framed me.

“What’s your name?” I insisted and he replied, “Sanjay.”

I closed the door, called the desk, told them what had happened, proceeded to tweet to @ramada (are you listening?) and then went for brunch across the street where I wrote this, conveniently, on my WordPress app for the Blackberry.

Like I said, the experience until has not been bad; however, since I have been on the road since 28 December, 2010, this has never happened: plain walking in via a universal key card — be it with or without a “privacy please” tag on the door or no.

At least a knock and a civilized query or, in once instance, a call from the front desk inquiring as to my intent.

Anyway, dear Sanjay, of the Ramada in Medford, Oregon, I don’t mean you any harm or to be fired or even reprimanded, I just don’t think it is even remotely OK behavior and please don’t do that every again.

You seem like a nice enough fellow.

What is your rule of thumb for tipping hotel maids? The New York Times suggests $5/day. What do you tip? Four nights at the Royal Sonesta Hotel in Cambridge, Boston, Massachusetts. Is it flat-fee, based on nightly rate, based on city?

The ‘I Have a Dream’ Speech by Martin Luther King, Jr, in 1963

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.” But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating “For Whites Only”. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with a new meaning, “My country, ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.”

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

Another one of my weekly blog posts over at the AdAdge Global Idea Network came out today, Bratislava, a City to Watch — check it out:

Bratislava, a City to Watch
Residents of the Slovakian Capital Coming to Grips With Credit and Many Eye-Level Ads

I was invited by Zuzana Zentková of In Form Slovakia to travel from Berlin to Bratislava, Slovakia, to keynote the Daily Web Conference. Not only had I never been to Slovakia, I had never really thought about the country, focusing mostly on the Czech Republic instead of the Slovak Republic. My tickets were booked from Berlin to Vienna because, I discovered, Vienna is only 63 kilometers away from Bratislava — only a half-hour away by some fast highways.

So, here are my impressions after a few days there, having lived the high life. The organizers of the conference drove me from the hotel and back, they kept me in a gorgeous room at MaMaison residence and the conference was at the stunning Rotunda pod Slavínom building at the highest point in Bratislava.

Bratislava is a town to explore on foot, bus and tram. There are some very new cars but I am told that Slovakians are having a tough time adjusting to loans, credit and leasing. When they buy cars, they pay cash. In general, Slovakians only buy what they can afford, which means that there are very aggressive “no cash down” and “no money for a year” incentives to seduce Slovakians into buying on credit. The same goes for mortgages and other forms of borrowing.

As a result, there are many taxis, trams and buses on the road. Mostly, though, people walk. I didn’t see a lot of motorcycles, scooters or bicycles. There isn’t a subway system, but there is a world of pedestrian underpasses linking sidewalks together, freeing up the roads for traffic. As a result, there is a strong reliance on very modest-but-plentiful, eye-level advertisements. In Bratislava, the biggest ads are for car insurance, cars, telecoms (especially T-Mobile and Orange), banking, credit, Christmas and for upcoming events. It seems to me that you can make a lot of assumptions based on the sort of ads you can see on the street. By far, the biggest advertiser in downtown Bratislava is Deutsche Telekom’s T-Mobile.

One of the most impressive ads in the entire city sheaths the National bank of Slovakia. A Euro coin emblazons the entire site, with the base encircled with all the bill denominations of the Euro available. It is pretty impressive to behold. Slovakia, is a member of the EU, currently accepting both euros and Slovak koruna. Come Jan. 1, the Slovak Republic will complete its conversion over to the euro. There is no longer any border between Austria and Slovakia. You can easily see the wind farms of verdant Austrian farms from Bratislava high ground. Even though Bratislava is close to Western Europe, Slovakia is so far truly a world away. This is still a country in development. It felt to me like lots of people don’t have a lot.

Still, Bratislava has leapfrogged from simple technology to a very strong and ubiquitous 3.5G telecoms infrastructure — and this leapfrogging often bypasses laptops, DSL and even home computers, I am told by the savvy and world-class high-tech participants of the conference.Jan Horna, the Daily Web conference moderator, told me that there are over two GSM SIM cards for every Slovakian.

I only had three days in Slovakia so my experience is limited; however, Bratislava is a city to watch, especially as the Euro becomes the official — and sole — currency of Slovakia in less than a couple months.

I have been trying to think of the best way to convey the weekend at PodCampOhio but my virtual friend new friend Ann Miller did a much better job of honoring the weekend!  And, yes, I was one of the folks who received hand-made cookies! And here, below, is Ann Miller’s (AKA AnnOhio‘s) Introduction to Pod Camp…

Introduction to Pod Camp…

I never ever ever thought you would hear from me, I’m going to Pod Camp Ohio. Yet, yesterday morning I was up and out the door at 7:45 to drive to Columbus for the first ever Pod Camp Ohio. I’ve seen a lot of people on my Twitter list talk about Pod Camp experiences…and I admit I have liked the idea of having so many friends in one place to get a chance to meet. But the rest of it? The sessions? Meh…

I probably would not have gone at all if I hadn’t seen a status message from Chris Abrahams–going to Pod Camp Ohio–I sent him a message, are you serious. That was the nudge I needed to sign up and make plans to go.  I kidded pre-conference that I would be in the corner with the giant panties over my head tied up with a cat5 cable.  :o)

With the help of Andrew I found the location without any difficulties, it was close to the highway and very easy to get to.  A gold star for the Pod Camp Ohio planners for finding such a great location.  The facility was nice, free wifi a geek’s paradise!  I spotted Ms. Sangs, @KaitSwanson as soon as I got in the door.  I had to give her a hug even before I checked in for the conference.   That hug and that chance to finally meet her made my day, could it get any better than this?

I started wandering around, getting my bearings, pulling out the lanyard for my name tag, writing @AnnOhio on it and getting myself organized.  As I made my way back to the room for the first address of the day, I passed a lady with pink streaks in her hair–I knew right away it was @AlisonL.  I gave her a big hug and delivered the promised homemade cookies.  It was nice to finally get to meet her in person.  As a I am talking to her I see a few more familiar faces @BarbaraKB and @DanielJohnsonJr–more hugs delivered.

I found a seat about mid-way back and made myself comfortable.  I love to people watch, and I took a look around and didn’t see anyone else that I knew.  I hear someone behind me talking to the person next to him.  “Hi, I’m Chris Abraham.”  I turned in my seat… “Chris? AnnOhio!” Naturally I jumped up to give him a big hug to welcome him to Ohio.

I looked through the session list, trying to find the non-geekiest session to go to.  First up a session by my twitter pal (who I constantly harass for being a geek) DanielJohnsonJr.  When I got to the room Chris was standing outside, he was planning to attend the same session. Alas, the door was locked.  I pull out my cellphone and send Daniel a text message–the door is locked dummy.  I made my way to the back of the room, I planned to knit during the session. The room filled quickly with people and I was glad to have a seat with a table to spread out all of my stuff.  There was about 10 minutes before the session started, it gave Chris and I a chance to talk a little more.  Daniel then had people do introductions, you know the usual name, where are you from blah blah blah…when it was my turn I said, “My name is Ann I’m here to see Daniel and to knit”.

It really was a great session, I have to confess that I learned about a few new things, and it was fun to see a Twitter pal in a new light.  (That does not mean that my constant harassment of the guy is  going to end!)  I noticed during the introductions a familiar name and stopped him.  “Oh Mr. tw3nty3ight? I saw PreppyDude talking about me to you last night I’m AnnOhio. “

“AnnOhio! I have to take a picture for PreppyDude.” Acckkkk I iz on BrightKite!  But it shows me knitting so the guy is ok in my book.  (Sheesh BrightKite?)

The next session in the room was on viral marketing, I was comfortable and decided the topic sounded interesting, as did most of the other people at the unconference, we moved to a larger room which put the presenter 10 minutes behind.  I could have actually stayed in this session for another hour, I have a feeling that the period after the presentation, the time for questions and responses would have been just as valuable as the session.  Next up..LUNCH!

There were some challenges for lunch, but in no part due to the organizers of the event.  The catering company forgot a few of the ingredients for the tacos.  It might have also helped to make things go faster to pull the tables out from the wall and to let people go through the line on both sides, it was a narrow hallway that may have been a challenge.  I honestly heard no one complaining at any point during the day.  It was a well run event, and the organizers should be proud of what they accomplished.

Lunch, was my favorite part of the day–not because the food was amazing, it was sitting down and connecting with friends.  Talking, laughing, sharing stories…and seeing the circle of people grow and grow.  I made a few new friends–people who I added to my Twitter list with the caveat that if they weren’t adding to my life I was subtracting them.  I saw people sitting off alone, laptops open, Twittering and doing a variety of online social media.  Excuse me? You are in a room full of people, many, if not most with the same interests as you and you are ONLINE?  I’ve been known to stick a cellphone down my shirt at tweet ups when people were tweeting, not even my bra is big enough to hold a laptop.  :o)  I had someone from the conference add me on Twitter–he said he did  the add during lunch.  I later teased him “Why didn’t you come find me at lunch and sit at the cool table and have a real conversation with me?”

After being entertained by Paull Young and Luke Armour I had to stay for their session about what not to do in social media.  They made me giggle, and I would give them two thumbs up as my favorite session of the day.

Then..it happened…I attended a session at the very edges of geekiness, what I thought pod camps were all about.  As more and more html code popped up on the screen I felt the energy, the very life leaving my body.  I turned into pod camp zombie.  The presenter was full of lots of helpful information, but it was clearly the wrong session choice for me.  I hit the geek wall and crumbled to the bottom in a pile.

Yikes, it was time to escape and make my way back to my corner of the cornfields. I passed out a few hugs on my way out the door and headed home in the pouring rain.  I saw several tweets from friends who went out to dinner and or drinking afterwards, and that made me wish I was still there.

A few things I would have done differently–I would have made hotel reservations and stayed in Columbus on Saturday night.  In reality I didn’t even plan to be there at lunch time, I thought I would be long gone.  I would have left the session that sucked the life out of me and just wandered the halls connecting with people.  I’m used to going to conferences and feeling the need to attend as many sessions as possible.

All in all..a day much better than expected and a chance to connect with friends.

tw3nty3ight

George Carlin was my first adult comedian. My dad — my parents — loved him. He was a true disruptor and free thinker, using comedy as his platform. Please check out George Carlin’s Wikipedia entry and the lovely obituary from the New York Times.

George Carlin, the Grammy-Award winning standup comedian and actor who was hailed for his irreverent social commentary, poignant observations of the absurdities of everyday life and language, and groundbreaking routines like “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television,” died in Santa Monica, Calif., on Sunday, according to his publicist, Jeff Abraham. He was 71.The cause of death was heart failure. Mr. Carlin, who had a history of heart problems, went into the hospital on Sunday afternoon after complaining of heart trouble. The comedian had worked last weekend at The Orleans in Las Vegas.

Recently, Mr. Carlin was named the recipient of the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor. He was to receive the award at the Kennedy Center in November. “In his lengthy career as a comedian, writer, and actor, George Carlin has not only made us laugh, but he makes us think,” said Stephen A. Schwarzman, the Kennedy Center chairman. “His influence on the next generation of comics has been far-reaching.”

Mr. Carlin began his standup comedy act in the late 1950s and made his first television solo guest appearance on “The Merv Griffin Show” in 1965. At that time, he was primarily known for his clever wordplay and reminiscences of his Irish working-class upbringing in New York.

But from the outset there were indications of an anti-establishment edge to his comedy. Initially, it surfaced in the witty patter of a host of offbeat characters like the wacky sportscaster Biff Barf and the hippy-dippy weatherman Al Sleet. “The weather was dominated by a large Canadian low, which is not to be confused with a Mexican high. Tonight’s forecast . . . dark, continued mostly dark tonight turning to widely scattered light in the morning.”

Mr. Carlin released his first comedy album, “Take-Offs and Put-Ons,” to rave reviews in 1967. He also dabbled in acting, winning a recurring part as Marlo Thomas’ theatrical agent in the sitcom “That Girl” (1966-67) and a supporting role in the movie “With Six You Get Egg-Roll,” released in 1968.

By the end of the decade, he was one of America’s best known comedians. He made more than 80 major television appearances during that time, including the Ed Sullivan Show and Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show; he was also regularly featured at major nightclubs in New York and Las Vegas.

That early success and celebrity, however, was as dinky and hollow as a gratuitous pratfall to Mr. Carlin. “I was entertaining the fathers and the mothers of the people I sympathized with, and in some cases associated with, and whose point of view I shared,” he recalled later, as quoted in the book “Going Too Far” by Tony Hendra, which was published in 1987. “I was a traitor, in so many words. I was living a lie.”

In 1970, Mr. Carlin discarded his suit, tie, and clean-cut image as well as the relatively conventional material that had catapulted him to the top. Mr. Carlin reinvented himself, emerging with a beard, long hair, jeans and a routine that, according to one critic, was steeped in “drugs and bawdy language.” There was an immediate backlash. The Frontier Hotel in Las Vegas terminated his three-year contract, and, months later, he was advised to leave town when an angry mob threatened him at the Lake Geneva Playboy Club. Afterward, he temporarily abandoned the nightclub circuit and began appearing at coffee houses, folk clubs and colleges where he found a younger, hipper audience that was more attuned to both his new image and his material.

By 1972, when he released his second album, “FM & AM,” his star was again on the rise. The album, which won a Grammy Award as best comedy recording, combined older material on the “AM” side with bolder, more acerbic routines on the “FM” side. Among the more controversial cuts was a routine euphemistically entitled “Shoot,” in which Mr. Carlin explored the etymology and common usage of the popular idiom for excrement. The bit was part of the comic’s longer routine “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television,” which appeared on his third album “Class Clown,” also released in 1972.

“There are some words you can say part of the time. Most of the time ‘ass’ is all right on television,” Mr. Carlin noted in his introduction to the then controversial monologue. “You can say, well, ‘You’ve made a perfect ass of yourself tonight.’ You can use ass in a religious sense, if you happen to be the redeemer riding into town on one — perfectly all right.”

The material seems innocuous by today’s standards, but it caused an uproar when broadcast on the New York radio station WBAI in the early ’70s. The station was censured and fined by the FCC. And in 1978, their ruling was supported by the Supreme Court, which Time magazine reported, “upheld an FCC ban on ‘offensive material’ during hours when children are in the audience.” Mr. Carlin refused to drop the bit and was arrested several times after reciting it on stage.

By the mid-’70s, like his comic predecessor Lenny Bruce and the fast-rising Richard Pryor, Mr. Carlin had emerged as a cultural renegade. In addition to his irreverent jests about religion and politics, he openly talked about the use of drugs, including acid and peyote, and said that he kicked cocaine not for moral or legal reasons but after he found “far more pain in the deal than pleasure.” But the edgier, more biting comedy he developed during this period, along with his candid admission of drug use, cemented his reputation as the “comic voice of the counterculture.”

Mr. Carlin released a half dozen comedy albums during the ’70s, including the million-record sellers “Class Clown,” “Occupation: Foole” (1973) and “An Evening With Wally Lando” (1975). He was chosen to host the first episode of the late-night comedy show “Saturday Night Live” in 1975. And two years later, he found the perfect platform for his brand of acerbic, cerebral, sometimes off-color standup humor in the fledgling, less restricted world of cable television. By 1977, when his first HBO comedy special, “George Carlin at USC” was aired, he was recognized as one of the era’s most influential comedians. He also become a best-selling author of books that expanded on his comedy routines, including “When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?,” which was published by Hyperion in 2004.

Pursuing a Dream

Mr. Carlin was born in New York City in 1937. “I grew up in New York wanting to be like those funny men in the movies and on the radio,” he said. “My grandfather, mother and father were gifted verbally, and my mother passed that along to me. She always made sure I was conscious of language and words.”

He quit high school to join the Air Force in the mid-’50s and, while stationed in Shreveport, La., worked as a radio disc jockey. Discharged in 1957, he set out to pursue his boyhood dream of becoming an actor and comic. He moved to Boston where he met and teamed up with Jack Burns, a newscaster and comedian. The team worked on radio stations in Boston, Fort Worth, and Los Angeles, and performed in clubs throughout the country during the late ’50s.

After attracting the attention of the comedian Mort Sahl, who dubbed them “a duo of hip wits,” they appeared as guests on “The Tonight Show” with Jack Paar. Still, the Carlin-Burns team was only moderately successful, and, in 1960, Mr. Carlin struck out on his own.

During a career that spanned five decades, he emerged as one of the most durable, productive and versatile comedians of his era. He evolved from Jerry Seinfeld-like whimsy and a buttoned-down decorum in the ’60s to counterculture icon in the ’70s. By the ’80s, he was known as a scathing social critic who could artfully wring laughs from a list of oxymorons that ranged from “jumbo shrimp” to “military intelligence.” And in the 1990s and into the 21st century the balding but still pony-tailed comic prowled the stage — eyes ablaze and bristling with intensity — as the circuit’s most splenetic curmudgeon.

During his live 1996 HBO special, “Back in Town,” he raged over the shallowness of the ’90s “me first” culture — mocking the infatuation with camcorders, hyphenated names, sneakers with lights on them, and lambasting white guys over 10 years old who wear their baseball hats backwards. Baby boomers, “who went from ‘do your thing’ to ‘just say no’ …from cocaine to Rogaine,” and pro life advocates (“How come when it’s us it’s an abortion, and when it’s a chicken it’s an omelet?”), were some of his prime targets. In the years following his 1977 cable debut, Mr. Carlin was nominated for a half dozen Grammy awards and received CableAces awards for best stand-up comedy special for “George Carlin: Doin’ It Again (1990) and “George Carlin: Jammin’ ” (1992). He also won his second Grammy for the album “Jammin” in 1994.

Personal Struggles

During the course of his career, Mr. Carlin overcame numerous personal trials. His early arrests for obscenity (all of which were dismissed) and struggle to overcome his self-described “heavy drug use” were the most publicized. But in the ’80s he also weathered serious tax problems, a heart attack and two open heart surgeries.

In December 2004 he entered a rehabilitation center to address his addictions to Vicodin and red wine. Mr. Carlin had a well-chronicled cocaine problem in his 30s, and though he was able to taper his cocaine use on his own, he said, he continued to abuse alcohol and also became addicted to Vicodin. He entered rehab at the end of that year, then took two months off before continuing his comedy tours.

“Standup is the centerpiece of my life, my business, my art, my survival and my way of being,” Mr. Carlin once told an interviewer. “This is my art, to interpret the world.” But, while it always took center stage in his career, Mr. Carlin did not restrict himself to the comedy stage. He frequently indulged his childhood fantasy of becoming a movie star. Among his later credits were supporting parts in “Car Wash” (1976), “Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure” (1989), “The Prince of Tides” (1991), and “Dogma” (1999).

His 1997 book, “Brain Droppings,” became an instant best seller. And among several continuing TV roles, he starred in the Fox sitcom “The George Carlin Show,” which aired for one season. “That was an experiment on my part to see if there might be a way I could fit into the corporate entertainment structure,” he said after the show was canceled in 1994. “And I don’t,” he added.

Despite the longevity of his career and his problematic personal life, Mr. Carlin remained one of the most original and productive comedians in show business. “It’s his lifelong affection for language and passion for truth that continue to fuel his performances,” a critic observed of the comedian when he was in his mid-60s. And Chris Albrecht, an HBO executive, said, “He is as prolific a comedian as I have witnessed.”

Mr. Carlin is survived by his wife, Sally Wade; daughter Kelly Carlin McCall; son-in-law, Bob McCall, brother, Patrick Carlin and sister-in-law, Marlene Carlin. His first wife, Brenda Hosbrook, died in 1997.

Although some criticized parts of his later work as too contentious, Mr. Carlin defended the material, insisting that his comedy had always been driven by an intolerance for the shortcomings of humanity and society. “Scratch any cynic,” he said, “and you’ll find a disappointed idealist.”

Still, when pushed to explain the pessimism and overt spleen that had crept into his act, he quickly reaffirmed the zeal that inspired his lists of complaints and grievances. “I don’t have pet peeves,” he said, correcting the interviewer. And with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added, “I have major, psychotic hatreds.”

In memory of George Carlin, here they are:

• Shit
• Piss
• Fuck
• Cunt
• Cocksucker
• Motherfucker
• Tits

I bumped into Michelle Santos on Facebook yesterday and we Kama’ainas got super nostalgic all over each others’ Facebook Walls, and here are some excepts:

Michelle:

Aloha oe, Chris!! Pehea `oe? E pili mau na pomaika`i ia `oe!!!

Chris:

Aloha kakahiaka, Michelle. Mai ka’i no au. Aloha mai e!!

Michelle:

eh, howzit, Brah? Whaddsdascoops? when we do talk story? I miss da kine local grinds…opihi and combomeals…onolicious, man…Fo´real. Been back to da Rock lately?

Chris:

It’s been since 1998, which has been a decade, which is very sad. I don’t even know if I would move back if I had all the money in the world, although I have become very very nostalgic recently so I might try to make a trip this year or next year. I miss Zippy’s and Graces and I miss Kona and Manoa. I miss Sans Souci Beach right in front of the New Otani Kaimana Beach Hotel and I miss hanging out with my Kama’aina friends at Outrigger Canoe Club. I miss Scuba diving in Waianae and eating burgers at Kua Aina burger at North Shore. I miss North Shore and driving the circle island in my Triumph TR6. I miss talking pidgin and wonder if I am even fluent any more. Rap Replinger is still my favorite comedian of all time. How about you?

Michelle:

i came back 2006. It is a rough place if you are a local. But as a tourist it is fine…I miss the beaches. I lived next to Ala Moana Shopping Center where my apartment penthouse was across the beach. I missed swimming there every morning..Lanikai, North Shore, Waikiki night life, Hanohano Restaurant on Sheraton´s penthouse, Snorkeling, sharkdiving, skydiving (it´s warmer there than in Norway for this activity…brrrrr) I miss my moped ;) I had my car parked all the time and just zoomed with that everywhere. I also miss Tantalus where I used to live since I picked fresh Hawaiian flowers there every weekend. I miss the pancakes at Ken´s house in Big Island, the lilikoi pancake sauces, chocolate and caramel macadamia nuts, fresh kona coffee…Ward Center Theater…

Chris:

Everything is flooding now. I miss Volcano National Park. I miss Molokai and all the Duduois. I miss Manele Bay on Lanai. I miss the Parker Ranch and what Hilo used to be. I love love love taking the drive up to Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa. I miss looking at the snow and the crazy telescopes up at the top of the world. I miss Madam Pele and Maui and Manapua and the Punahou carnival and I miss Kolaipuhaku and Kaimuki and the drive along Kalanianaole highway. I miss being tan and I miss freediving off of Diamondhead and of being a Divemaster. I miss using Velvia film and shooting beaches and bikinis. I miss seducing women by packing picknics and taking either the motorcycle or the convertible roadster on the circle island, stopping for shave ice with ice cream and azuki beans in Hale`iwa. Wow, lau lau — now I have to sing to you….

Michelle:

aaaawww…i can tell you miss it very much. I know…i miss taking my dates on private beach picnics. I have this private beach that I always get and have awesome sunsets by Gold Coast. Man, lau lau??? hehhehehe, it certainly better than poi. I have to put so much sugar on that poi. Double-whammy on the carbs! Yikes! You should see my picture in Diverse and see how tan I was…I miss that too. I didn´t even have to lay on the beach…I just get cooked…;)

Well, Michelle Santos has herself a blog, a firm, MJS Strategies, and actually blogged about our chat as well, Aloha oe! (Part 1).

Amtrak Acela First Class, originally uploaded by Chris Abraham.

Since my day trip to NYC included two nights at two porn hotels, I spoiled myself on the way back to DC and jumped the last seat in the Acela: first class. Lots of room, lots of attention, lots of service, and lots of stints of burning up the tracks at 175+ miles-per-hour. Kind of rockstar and something I will do all the time when the funds allow or I marry rich.

Creating a space for your members to “show off” or “express themselves” is less important than giving members to interact. They crave connection and will pursue any perceived connection such as shared interests, hometowns, movies, orientation, or schools.

They’re not at all about sharing, they’re about connecting. The best of breed SNS’s are primarily concerned with three things: finding your current friends, reconnecting with old friends, and making new friends. In that order. Current friend connections are the most essential, offering the most energy.

The best SNS’s are like an office ski trip. Out of the 30 people who choose to chip in on the trip, maybe four or five of them are pretty good friends. The remaining 25 have only a few things in common with you, including being in the same industry, being at the same company, liking skiing, and being probably within ten years of each other in age and a shared experience of going to college.

When you get to the ski slope, there are plenty of diversions planned to help you relax and feel comfortable among your colleagues. You may rent a very large home together near the slopes, you might stay at a big hotel together. You might all travel up there together in a chartered bus. And when you arrive, there is a cocktail party, and a social, and in the morning there is breakfast, etc. The people who come up who don’t want to ski have board games and the spa.

So, an SNS is about creating artificial and intentional ways of starting a conversation. Office pools and work happy hours. They’re all affectations. There are so many web sites and blogs and so forth out there that successful SNS’s can’t follow that model.

So, when it comes to building a valuable personal profile for an SNS, it is important that the profile isn’t just pretty and isn’t just the equivalent of a questions-based, template-based personal website. For example, modern SNS’s tend to request an exhaustive list of favorite movies, favorite books, favorite TV shows, etc. These are props that allow registered members to find each other based on a love of LOST, 24, or the Matrix.

People love to connect based on shared interest and shared memories. People also love to compete. A friendly competition is always a very powerful way to allow people to both connect and create shared memories.

One of the most successful methods of connecting people in a very strong way is through bringing them together through “pools.??? Fantasy football is popular; Oscar pools, college basketball pools, etc, are very powerful ways of bringing people together and allowing them to “ski??? together, allowing them to interact in a very powerful, visceral, way.

I have friends who have powerful, shared memories, of Oscar and football and basketball pools; even stronger are the shared memories of seasons of fantasy sports, fantasy football in particular. Unlike catching a real game together, fantasy football can happen 100% online.

Virtual online communities are neither virtual nor are they exclusively online. They are real, powerful, communities of real people building real connections that can, and often do, result in marriages, children, businesses, jobs, and emotional support when times are rough.

From What’s Cooking America

Loco Moco Recipe

1/4 pound ground beef
1 egg
Hot prepared gravy
Hot pepper sauce
Tomato ketchup
Soy Sauce

Form the ground beef into a patty. In a frying pan over medium-high heat, cook patty until cooked to your liking; remove from heat and set aside.

Fry egg (sunny-side up or over easy) in the grease from the ground beef.

Assemble this dish by putting a bed of cooked rice in a large bowl, top with hamburger patty, fried egg, and 1 to 2 ladles of hot gravy. Add hot pepper sauce, ketchup, or soy sauce according to your preference.

Makes 1 serving for a very hungry person.

Loco Moco (loh-koo moh-koo) is Hawaii’s original homemade fast food and can be found at just about any fast food joint, roadside diner, mom and pop restaurant or lunch wagon in the Islands. It is truly unique to Hawaii, and it is a comfort food, or “local grind,” of the Hawaiian Islands. Local food is not the cuisine that is served in upscale hotels and restaurants of Hawaii. It’s basic structure was established soon after World War II – the best fast food or mixture of cuisines from many Pacific rim countries, with a special Hawaiian twist.

Loco Moco is a mountainous meal consisting of a heap of white rice topped with a hamburger patty and a Sunnyside-up egg, and then smothered in gravy. This dish is popular for breakfast, lunch, or dinner and is a candidate for the Cholesterol Hall of Fame. As you eat, break the egg – then blend the burger, egg, rice, and gravy on your fork for each bite for a real taste of paradise.

There are many people who claim to have invented Loco Moco, but it is generally agreed that around 1949, either the Cafe 100 or the Lincoln Grill (both in Hilo, Hawaii) originated the first dish of Loco Moco. According to the story, the dish was created for teenagers who wanted something different from typical American sandwiches and less time-consuming than Asian food to eat for breakfast. The nickname of the first boy to eat this concoction was Loco (“crazy” in Portuguese and Hawaiian pidgin). Moco rhymed with loco and sounded great, so Loco Moco became the name of the dish.

According to John Penisten of the web site Tropi-Ties, Inc:

Rudy Legaspi, former member and unofficial historian of the Tropi-Ties (also recently retired Executive Assistant to the Mayor of Hawaii County and admitted loco-moco fanatic) says “The loco-moco had its origins with the Lincoln Wreckers Athletic Club, an informal organization for local teenagers, in the late 1940′s. The group used to hang-out at the Lincoln Grill Restaurant across the street from Lincoln Park in downtown Hilo.

The Lincoln Wreckers, who played in the local “bare-foot” football league of the time, had some success on the field, but its main claim to fame was their creation of the loco-moco. The popular local dish has become a staple on restaurant menus throughout the islands and is a recognized cultural cuisine icon, as much as a taco is to Mexican fare or a pizza to Italian fare.

The loco moco story began in 1949, after Richard and Nancy Inouye opened the Lincoln Grill Restaurant. The teens used to hang-out at the eatery, playing the pin-ball machines, cards, dropping nickels in the Wurlitzer jukebox and constantly feeding their hungry appetites. And in those days, when teens didn’t have much money in their pockets, the standard fare was a bowl of saimin noodles or a hamburger, things which didn’t quite fill the always hungry teens.

So the club devised a plan to ask the Inouyes to create a special dish just for them, something filling and affordable. For the task, the Wreckers nominated a guy nicknamed “Crazy” for his wild and madcap play on the football field. “Crazy” approached the Inouyes with the club’s request and the rest is history.”

Loco Moco on Wikipedia

The Loco Moco is a dish unique to Hawaiian cuisine. There are many variations, but the essential loco moco consists of white rice topped with a hamburger patty, a fried egg, and brown gravy. Variations may include bacon, ham, kalua pork, Portuguese sausage, teriyaki beef, teriyaki chicken, mahi-mahi, shrimp, oyster and other meats.

Its roots are not entirely clear. James Kelly writes that the dish was created in 1949 by the Inouye family, who owned the Lincoln Gril in Hilo, Hawaii in 1949. In keeping with the standards of Japanese Cuisine, they used rice as a staple starch and finished it off with the hamburger and gravy to create a dish that did not require the preparation time of bento. The egg was added shortly thereafter. The name derives from the nickname of one of the teenagers who frequented the restaurant (‘Loco’) combined with a rhyming (‘moco’), meaning snot. It is a widespread and popular dish in Hawaii and a favourite of local fast food restaurants, but is almost completely unknown elsewhere, except for in Japan where it is very popular.

Loco Moco is also the name of an American restaurant chain featuring Hawaiian rice bowl dishes.