What does it mean to you?

Think about it.

So some it is all about being a part of the finest nation on earth, to some, it is not.

To some we are a nation born of slavery and white dominance-white privilege. That may be so initially, but we changed that by killing each other in a civil war.

To some it is about the diversity of people. The question about this is, if I have nothing in common with other people, what is the common ground for us to get along? Just being “American” doesn’t seem to fit in this hyphenated country.

To legal immigrants like my grandfather, Antonio Campagna, it was a chance to make it in the new world, and opportunity to be free, to start a business, to work and serve his new country. He was sponsored by my great grandfather Puisitere to come work in Monmouth, Ill, perhaps marry one of his daughters. He came through Ellis Island. Worked on a food cart, enlisted in the Army and fought in WWI.

My other grand parents came from Indiana and West(by God) Virginia. Doc Keidel and Gerturde settled in Cleves and taught me to be a proud American by example. My parents too. They showed me how to be patriotic, sing the songs and mean it. They nurtured me. I didn’t feel privileged. Lucky maybe. I had a great childhood in a small town.

To me it us about being an unique individual first, taking care of my own, believing that I’m an American with unalienable rights. Life, Liberty and the pursuit of happiness(not guaranteed happiness).

I am not to be labeled, categorized, identified or pigeonedholed into a demographic clan, tribe or party. I’m just me. And you are you.

America is about individualism, not identity politics. One person, one vote. Of course this is my opinion, one of the few things I am entitled to. If you don’t agree, that’s fine.

I’m not a racist but maybe I am. I do believe that all people are created equal but it’s what you make of yourself after being created that really matters. Not what you say but what you do with your life matters. How you treat your family, friends, pets and neighbors and yes Facebook friends and foes. Some people are better that others because they have worked harder to make themselves better. That’s not a racist statement rather a fact of life and natural selection. I believe we start out equal and maybe end up equal(dead).

To some, the separation between religion and government should be absolute. I don’t see how that’s possible. With freedom of religion, you are free to believe in what you want. That doesn’t mean freedom from religion. Faith has it’s place in America, it doesn’t mean that science does not, both can be practiced and should be studied. I may have had my religion forced on me at first, but I have to say that going back to the Catholic church after 40 years away has been fulfilling, wonderful and much more than I expected. This country was built on religious principals. That’s a fact that cannot be refuted.

On this 20 year reunion of the 9/11 tragedy, I pray that it never happens again. What I remember most now is the feeling of being an American after it happened, on 9/12. We all got our flags out, got our mojo back and came together as Americans.

I sadly don’t feel that today. We need to try to get along. Try with me.

m

That seems to be the question these days.

To me, it’s becoming more and more of a personal choice. I find myself keeping it close to my chest and not sharing. What matters to me is what makes me the guy that I am.

So here’s a list of things that don’t matter to me, in fact it meets the official “Jimmy cracked corn and I don’t care” mantra.

Kneeling or standing for the National Anthem.
It doesn’t matter that multimillionaire kids disrespect our nation and flag. Screw ‘em. Kneel to the cross, stand for our flag!

Black lives matter.
They don’t matter anymore than anyone else. Everybody’s lives matters to themselves and their families. Time to stop protesting and make your lives better by being positive and working hard towards a worthy goal.

So you’re insulted-you take offense(to everything, it seems).
Who cares, I know you do, but life is like that. Quit bitchin’ all the time.

Resist.
Go ahead and resist, what does that do to bring change in your world? Doesn’t matter, never did.

Boycott!(see above).

President Trump said or tweeted something stupid. So what? He’s a big mouth New Yorker. What did you expect? There’re tons of stupid things being said in DC, every day. It doesn’t matter. Vote for the person you think can make a positive difference. That’s all we can do.

Hollywood/Recording Artists thinks we care what THEY think. Seriously? Doesn’t matter one bit what Kanya says or Ellen or anybody.

Insurance sucks for everybody. I do care about this but nothing can be done until fair pricing for services, drugs and procedures are posted and competition is at play.

My point here is that outside forces try to tell us what’s important. It’s not important, your life is important, your family’s important. Your friends are important. Your job is somewhat important as long as it helps take care you you and your family. I think having God in my life is important but that’s me, I’m not forcing my faith on you. Although it may do you some good:.)

So today, here’s to what’s important! It should be personal, keep it to yourself if you want or not.
Thanks for reading,
God bless you.
Good Day.
Michel

I’ve had the opportunity to reflect on my career in advertising lately. I wouldn’t change a thing except maybe going out on my own much sooner.

So here’s a story about the some Mad Men that I new or what was it really like starting an advertising career in the early eighties.

I went to art school then ad school. I was taught production art, you know paste up.

My first job was for Mike Dektas at D&E in Mt Adams. I interviewed with all the hot agencies of the time, nobody bit. Then I had an opportunity to interview with production manager, Jackie Duffy and the super production pro, Mike “Spike” Davidson. It went well. Well enough to be interview by Dektas himself, which was eye opening and worthy of a story all by itself.

I got the gig. 11k per year. I was making 3 times that waiting tables at the Rookwood Pottery restaurant-I was living at home in North Bend with my Mom & Dad.

My responsibilities were to learn from Spike because he was the best in the city, he was, really. He taught me about typography, skills that I still fall back on today. Back then, there were no computers, you sent your copy to typesetters, they sent gallies and headlines that you had to cut and paste them together with rubber cement. It was an exacting skill that had to be learned and practiced daily. He taught me the importance of clean readable headline and flowing body copy.

A run-around was monumental deal. I’m a better art director because of this training.

But the other duty that I was in charge of was the stat camera. It was a beast. We had a PosOne machine that was all-included, the camera and processing unit were all in one. It was in a special room that smelled of chemicals-dev, fix and other caustic stuff. A slight wiff of weed too.

Once you had hand cut and pasted the headline, a photostat was made for the paste up. Fucking magic. Once Letraset came around, you could typeset anything yourself. This camera had a platen at one end for the original art work and a creepy pair of holes on the other end for the photo paper vault and viewing glass. You put the paper on the glass, dialed in the %, exposed and then fed the paper into a slot in the vault. Minutes later a perfect photostat would come out the the other end.

Art directors would bring me their type and I’d size it for them. It was busy work and keeping on on the supplies was a weekly hassle.

One more thing I remember back in the day was my artboard. I got to order a brand new one from Commercial. I still use it to this day, laden with Macs and screens. Underneath the borcor covering, it has a thousand pushpin holes. We used push pins to hold the pasteup boards to the desk. It was squared with a tee square(now the back scratcher) and triangles. We had to inked the crop marks with rapidiographs(always 2” in of the the side of the board.) Crops, folds, key lines for photos. A lost art, gone with the type houses and color separators from a long gone time.

With the advent of the Apple Mac, everything changed. The art director had to set the type, shoot, retouch and color sep the photos and lay it all out. I should have and Adobe tattoo for the years I’ve been using their apps.

I consider myself an advertising artist because of all the hands on training I got early in my career.
I can make my Mac do just about anything. But the key to my success has been learning from everyone I worked with and keeping my skills and creative mojo fresh and up to date.

I have skills…like knowing my way around a stat camera.

Here’s a little story about my Mom, Rose Marie Campagna Keidel
It’s her birthday today and I miss he sorely.

My Mom was the greatest. A real yin yang person.

My Mom was raised in corn and pig country in Monmouth, IL by Italian immigrants, Anthony & Dorothy Campagna. They had a fruit/candy/tobacco wholesale business that started with a fruit cart. She told the story about getting oranges for Christmas, I now believe that to be true.She had two brothers, Nick and Tony-great guys with thick black hair now mostly silver.There was three aunts, Mimi Rogers JoJo Whiteleather & Ann Pusatere. The aunts ate toast every morning, as I do today. I fondly remember visiting Monmouth every summer, big spaghetti dinners, pork tenderloins, made rights, trips tho the Farm store. We put state tax stamps on cigarettes and went on deliveries to bars and restaurants around Monmouth. We used to take the train to Chicago and changed stations to the California Zephyr to Mommouth. We got to pick a box of candy to bring home.

I think she couldn’t wait to get out of Monmouth’s small Midwestern townness.

She went to University of Cincinnati Nursing school, met my dad there. Upon graduating she went to NYC, lived and worked in Greenwich Village. The story is that Dad went to NYC to bring her back to Cleves as his wife. Tough negotiations, must have been true love.

They set up house right next to Grandma & Grandpa Keidel’s house on Porter St. Had a 3 boys, built a house and moved to Cliff Road just outside of North Bend. A fabulous Mid Century Modern house designed by our family friend, JD King. Awesome view, lots of Catholic kids to grow up with. A great place to live.

That’s pretty much where my memories start.

My Mom was a fantastic award winning cook. She experimented a lot. I will miss her pies and cakes at every holiday.
She had flair. 

Her house was an eclectic mix of old and new, art and craft, heirlooms & tchotchkes. In the sixties, she was kind of a hippy, not a free love, pot smoking kind, just a free spirit. Very creative and quick witted.

Kind of a hot head, too.

She was a great Mom, always there for me. She had a way of zinging me to keep me in line. No jewish mother had anything on my mom in the guilt department. I think, I’m a lot like my Mom in many ways, that’s good and bad. I miss her today.

Today she’d want to go get ribs and have a Manhattan with extra cherries. If I can find the vermouth, I’ll have that Manhattan in your honor.

Just know that we are all thinking about you.

m

This is my bi-yearly rant about the scourge of my industry, political advertising or more specific, negative political advertising. I’m an ad man and there’s nothing that gets me fired up like a good, well told story that motivates, persuades and sells. Going negative does none of the these things.

Yes, you can say that it works, there are examples out there of how it affected an election.

It doesn’t even have to be an ad, Harry Reid called out Mitt Romney as a felon and a tax dodger, out and out lies, and it stuck with a compliant, left leaning media. Plus, if you tell a lie with major media weight, who knows what the truth is? It’s like brainwashing or the Stockholm Syndrome.

But let’s talk about ads.

Negative ads are bad advertising…BADVERTISING. They do a disservice to us all, they neither educate nor persuade.
The stories are false, backed up with flea type disclaimers that prove nothing. They leave a bad taste in our mouthes and destroy any trust in the political system.

Nobody likes them. So why do we let political hacks get away with out and out lies and deceit? How come no one (but me) call them out on there bad ads?

So here’s primer from an ad man on how to do it right and not sling mud and take the liars way out. We need to stop this shit once and for all.

• Tell me what you stand for.

• Tell me why you are qualified to hold this specific office.

• Tell me about your family and yourself, what makes you tick.

• Tell me what side you are on, if you are a Democrat, Libertarian or Republican, tell me.

• If you must compare, tell me the honest differences but don’t judge your opponent.

• Tell me why I can trust you and don’t tell me I cannot trust your opponent, I’ll decide who’s trustworthy.

• Don’t call me…ever.

• Don’t ask me for money, either. Don’t ask me to volunteer or work for free.

• Always be honest.

• Remember you are invited into my living room, stop yelling at me.

• Don’t cheat.

• Don’t continually use talking points, know your stuff and come from the heart. We tire of the TPs.

• If your opponent goes negative, make them the laughing stock for doing so. Wit goes a long way.

• Shake my hand, look me in the eye, talk to us. But don’t set up false photo ops.

• Be genuine.

• Hire and pay professionals to craft your message and design you ads.

• Be professional but lose the tie or suit often.

• Give out cool stuff-your buttons should be collector’s items-same with posters. Do many designs.

• Have a headline for your yard sign, short ’n sweet, hire a copywriter.

• Don’t try to be funny, it’s only funny once or twice, tops.

• And finally please do NOT steal established advertising campaigns to be your own. GOT THAT?

I’d like to see this fundamental transformation happen, I think most voter’s would.

I don’t personally know that many politicians. They avoid me like the plague, I’m expensive and opinionated. But this is what I do everyday not just every couple of years.

Be positive.

I went looking for these two blog posts on the helpfightduchenne.com website, they were missing because spammers had taken over the wordpress blog. I found them on the web archive site, an amazing thing(another story). They are worth repeating because I just got a note form Betty and Debi thanking me for helping. Al and I separately posted to the blog.

Here’s Al’s

I’m glad Bettie crossed a line!

I met Bettie several years ago.  I personally think she is the best kinder garden teacher in the world!  She taught my oldest son Ian, but it was at a teacher parent progress meeting with my youngest son that I began to see the depth of caring in Bettie’s heart.  Hayden was meeting and exceeding many of his benchmarks and the meeting was moving to a close when Bettie looked at us and asked if she could ask about something that may be crossing a line.  To myself at first I was worried that Hayden might have a bit too much of my DNA for his own good!  She began to tell us about Grant and Tony as well as describe Ducheene Muscular Dystrophy.  I was stunned.  Bettie asked for help in the marketing of their Hope For The Holidays fundraiser.  It was a week away and there was nothing we could do for that year, but next year to count us in.

I knew I was over my head so I went to Michel Keidel for help.  Keidel is one of the most creative guys in the city.  I can do the visuals & Michel could do the creative.  We met early the next year.  Grant is Terri’s son.  Tony is Debi’s son.  Bettie and Pat Furlong were both at this meeting and I admit it was one of the difficult meetings of my life. Pat has been at the point in Duchenne research and funding.  She lost both her sons to DMD years ago when there was not even a standard of treatment.  Some day soon there will be a breakthrough I can visualize Pat there.   Pat walked Michel and I through the details of the decline and death of her two sons and how she has made this her life’s work to beat DMD.   I still tear up when I think of this conversation with the sounds of Grant & Tony playing in the other room.  It was also one of the most inspiring events of my life to experience the love and caring of these wonderful people.

Terri, Debi & Pat are amazing women.  They are joined by hundreds of other parents that are fighting the same war.  A day never goes by when I don’t thank God for my two healthy boys and I also say a prayer for all the boys!

I’m just a small part of this.  I do visuals that I hope inspire people to give.  Of all the mindless crap I have helped push off store shelves in my career, I take that experience to help raise the monies needed to get these new trial drugs into testing.  For the last several years my clients, suppliers and employees have all stepped up.  Every year we raise a bit more money. Research money does not grow on trees.  So if you know of a giving soul or someone looking for a charitable event to reduce a tax burden, please pass this along.

Thanks,
Al

And here’s mine, once again.

DMD & Me.

Back in 2007, my friend Al called me to ask a favor. He doesn’t do that often so I was more than obliging. Al child’s teacher, Bettie, needed help on a event that she was involved in, Al wanted to know if we could collaborate on a special project. I said sure, asked some initial detail questions and that was that.

So let me back up for a moment, my name is Michel Keidel, I am an advertising creative director for a downtown agency called CG. I have over 30 years experience in the Cincinnati advertising community. Al is Al lang of Lang Photography, a brilliant Cincinnati photographer, who I am proud to call my friend. We’ve done some huge national projects together, watched Reds and Bengals games together. We work well together.

So, Al calls back to tell me about what he knows about Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, the scope of the project and schedules this meeting with two families on the west side of Cincinnati. Game on. So I thought.

I show up at the Alexander house, it turns out that I went to high school with Harry and was a couple of years ahead of Terri. I meet Bettie and Grant for the first time. Terri’s made up quite a spread of goodies, we wait for Al a couple of minutes with the usual small talk.

Al finally shows up and we sit down at the kitchen table and talk about Duchenne and how devastating it is. I literally knew nothing about Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy or MD for that matter. Terri, Debi and Bettie have done a great job of putting on a Hope for the Holidays Event and Silent Auction. Bettie’s does hand made invitations that are truly works of art, love and an amazing amount of labor. Terri and Debi solicit auction items for everywhere. They put on a first class event.

Two moms and Bettie and host of volunteers. They are amazing and They are amazing and courageous and so so strong. Harry, who is a local golf pro, also puts on a golf outing as well.

We listen intently. My heart literally breaks as they discuss this disease. They live with this daily. It makes me think that I am so lucky to have two “sort of” healthly kids. Duchenne literally wastes away muscle tissues of their boys. There is no cure, no consistent course of treatment, just families with their boys going up against the insurance and drug companies and a killer disease.

At first, I think they are dubious as to why Al & I are there. We explain that we only want to help. We can do things. We can raise awareness, build web sites, print up materials to help. We can use our creative talents to help. We don’t want anything. We want to give. I think they thought we were crazy. We asked where the money goes. Terri suggests that we meet with Pat Furlong of PPMD, go to her web site and learn. I went to the site when I got home that night after I hugged my kids and wife Linda, a little longer than usual. There was a meeting set up and a photo shoot set up to shoot the families and the boys at Al’s studio.

The meeting with Pat Furlong was life changing for me. Again it was at Terri’s house, at the kitchen table. Small talk lead to me talking about my Ellie and her muscle problems. They want to help her, but that’s not why we were there.

Pat tells her story with well practiced ease. It’s devastating, I’m tearing up right now just thinking about it. Pat lost both her boys to DMD. She describes to Al and me exactly what happens as the disease progresses. Our jaws were literally on the floor. But she is so full of hope. Pat’s been fighting this battle since 1994. She is known the around the world  and here she is giving me the long pitch at a kitchen table in Cleves, Ohio.

Parent Project Muscular Dystrophy, is leading the way to find this cure. With no help from Jerry either. It is an honor to even have met Pat Furlong, let alone try to advance the cause. I sobbed on the way home.

The photo shoot the next week was the first time that I met Tony, well both families were there, so I got to meet everyone. It went well, Al shot everybody and then it was up to me to pull some materials together. After doing my homework at the PPMD site, we went to work. I usually sell coneys or checking accounts, easy stuff. This was painful but it had to be compelling as the meeting we had with Pat. It wasn’t about just the event but two boys, Grant & Tony. Help these boys. I knew what was going to happen to them and to their families it made my heart ache.

That first year, we did made a difference, I think. The print materials and site were impactful BUT it was these two families and Bettie that do the heavy lifting. The event at the Madison was packed, the video made us all cry. I got to say hi to Pat. They raised more money than the year before. Great. Except the work is not done.

This is our forth year in helping, Al and I got a late start, this year, but Terri, Bettie and Debi were on it as usual. Please give to this cause. Book a couple of seat at the Hope for the Holidays Event, give them something auction. They have touch my heart and I know they will touch yours if you let them.

As a side note, we are changing things up next year, please ask me how you can help.

my baby

From time to time when it’s too cold or wet to scoot into work, my car’s in the shop or some other calamity, I take the bus to work. We have mass transit here in C-town, it’s adequate, it gets me there… eventuallly.

I have bus choices, the 25X and the dreaded 24.

The 25x is the Mt Lookout Express, it picks me up two blocks a way, it’s almost always on time. It’s filled with my neighbor types, business folks that work 9 to 5, downtown, some suits but mostly mid level or lower worker bees, like myself. They were dressed for the weather, snowpacalapse boots, Eddie Bauer parkas with matching gloves. All have

25x

iPhones or better, most are reading the news on their tablets or FBin. These people do not avoid eye contact, they say Hi, if you want to chat they will. It cruises down Delta and takes Columbia Pkwy-straight into town…easy peeezy. 17 minutes, boom, I’m a block away from my office on 7th. Now Monday was an aboration, Columbia was closed due to idiot SUVs driving too fast and smacking into the retaining walls like expensive bob sleds. So we detoured on to Riverside Drive(my preferred scooter route). It was bumper to bumper going but it moved along.

I could ride this bus everyday, I wish it had one more run, say at 8:45 verses 7:45.

Today I rode the late bus, the 24-Mt Washington/Mt Lookout/Uptown/Mt Auburn/Downtown. It’s a tough bus. It is by noway near express, it kinda sneaks up on downtown. The 8:45 is a garage bus to know where So I’m forced to thane the 9:27. It is a popular and diverse, jam packed, hay ride of humanity. It also picks me up two blocks from my house then takes me the long way to work via the Uptown Hospital area. The 24 is a crazy mixture of nurses and other hospital workers, UC students late for class, friendly urban folks transferring to who knows where. Nobody even glances at me, heaven forbid if I attempt to drum up a conversation. I’m not imposing, at least I think I’m not. I noticed on my 50 minute excursion that nobody is looking out for anyone but themselves. An elderly lady with a cain gets on, there are no apparent seats, nobody pops up immediately. I’m like 5 rows back from the front sideways seats(you know the ones for the elderly). I jumped up, walked up to the lady to offer my seat. But before I could get to her, the bus driver stopped the bus to yell at the college kid in the sideways seat. She looks at me like I’m an animal. The UC kid slide over and let the old lady sit down and I go back to my seat with my tail between my legs. I’m thinking, what the hell is wrong with these people. We get to UC med center and half the bus empty’s out. The lady gets out and slips on the ice, she doesn’t go down but catches herself with her cain. I’m sitting there on a now half full bus, feeling totally alone. So I put my headphones on, turn on some jazz and zone out. The rest of the ride was uneventful. The drive down Liberty Hill is quite beautiful.

I don’t really have a point to make here, friends, other than this.

We need to start looking out for each other, we need to start talking to the strangers around us. Talk about the weather, talk about our kids, our jobs, anything, everything. So the next time you are sitting on a bus and someone catches your eye, look back, say hi. I promise to give your your space or talk about the weather, your choice.

My two kids wrote letters to their Mom on Mother’s day.

I didn’t edit, just added some pix and posted.

Mother

Linda Kay Keidel. Where can I start? She’s an extraordinary mother, whose confidence and outgoing personality can’t be matched by anyone else. She is loved by everyone in her family and not, and has many friends who thinks she is great.

Even though we argue and bicker at times, I still know she loves me. I hope she knows too, cause even at the moments when we fight, she’s still my one and only mother and I love her to the fullest. Its wrong that we are rude to each other, it should stop, cause I know its what we both want. If we could only come to peace with each other, and not let the little things that get to us make our mother/son relationship strained, it would be perfect.

One great thing about my Mother is that she is always there for me and Ellie. Whenever one of us need something or need help/advice, she’s there and willing to drop what she’s doing to come and help us. Not many people can say that their mom is that generous and selfless, but fortunately we can. She might not always know how to help, but however she can possibly make it better, she will.

Words cannot really describe the respect I have for my mother. She works long days and nights going places that are far from home, and that can’t be easy. She comes home and its back to the same old grind, she doesn’t complain or bark about being tired and drained like any normal person would. That makes being with her after a Paris trip much more easier (hehe).

My Mother’s parenting skills are much different than others’ I have seen. They are great, she nurtures and loves her children and treats them with compassion, but should eventually realize that they’e growing up and need to be slowly given more freedom. She already somewhat knows this, but as the time goes by and we get more and more mature, we should be treated like adults (kinda). This is when our state of being as a child relying on their mother for everything blossoms into a relationship where we are all equal beings, and can talk to each other as equals, not as an adult talking down to a child, and the other way around.

There are many more things that make her a wonderful mother and person. She is pretty hip with the styles, she’s the mom who my friends think is really nice and cool, she’s into many interesting hobbies and what not. I can’t put into words how much I love my mother. Happy mother’s day mom, I love you and you are so great! Keep on keeping on, and never change. You are a fantastic mom!

Cary

Mother’s Day is a day when we celebrate our moms and the wonderful things they do. It’s about all the occupations they take up at a time and how amazing they do it all. They are a tutor, a chef, a coach, a mentor, a role model, a motivator, a planner, a negotiator, an entertainer, a boss, a psychiatrist, a counselor, and a friend (that’s only naming a few). They care for us and do everything they can do to send us down the right path for a bright and happy future.

What I love about my mother, Linda Kay Keidel, is that she can do anything she puts her mind to. She recently took up knitting as one of her hobbies. She had some trouble in the beginning but kept trying and eventually got the hang of it. I do make fun of her sometimes, guilty as charged, but I really am proud of her for trying and succeeding at something new. I look up to how determined she was when she first started.

What I love about Mom is that she can play both good cop and bad cop. That means that she is such a sweet person, but when she needs to be, she will pound on you like there’s no tomorrow. I say that in the nicest way possible. But even though she can snap over the silliest things at times, she is a nice, genuine person with a good heart that I am lucky to have.

I absolutely love how supportive my mom is. No matter how hard things get with me and/or the fam, she can always make it better. She stands by me no matter WHAT I do, and she’s always there for me. With everything that has happened, from school to the (possibly) upcoming surgery, she’s been so caring and understanding and she helps me through the good and the bad situations.

I love how my mom and I are almost the same person, and I don’t mean by genes but personality wise. Sure we have a 40 year age difference but whatever. Of course we argue and disagree on things, like when we looking for clothes and I like something she doesn’t or vise versa. Or how she schedules things into my Ellie Time. Or how we can’t agree on what to watch on TV. Okay that’s mostly Dad but that can relate with her too. But we mostly like the same things. We both love the same music, we both love getting our nails done, we both have somewhat of the same style, we both like modern things but we have an eye for antiques as well, we both like Dr. Phil, we both can’t live without a certain pair of shoes, and we both love changing it up a bit once in a while. I remember this one time when I was around 8, and Mom want me to get a hair cut, but we wanted different styles. She wanted a completely different look. So I cut my own hair instead of getting her idea. I thought it was funny but she wasn’t too happy. But we’re over that by now. And we both can be absolutely insane. I’m like the mini-mommy. And I love that.

I also love my mom’s job. She has such a cool job as a flight attendant. She’s been at it for what… 30 years? She gets to go to all my favorite places. She goes to Paris at least once every 2 months. I personally would LOVE to go to Paris because I’ve never been but going there is like a norm to her. She knows the airport like the back of her hand. She gets paid to travel the beauties of the world. I’m the teeniest bit jealous of her job. But the down is that she’s always tired, as she tells us. She gets up at 4am every time she has to work. But that really is the only down. My friends are always saying, “Your mom’s a flight attendant? That’s so cool! She’s so lucky! I wish I could do that.” and I think about how I would to but I could never do it as well as she does. There is more I love about my mom but that would take far far too long to write!

“A mother is she who can take the place of all others, but who’s place no one can take.” I saw this quote online on Facebook and I think it’s absolutely true. No one can replace my mom. She holds a dear place in my heart. She’s the queen of my heart and she rules my heart (also found on Facebook but hey, I liked it and I mean it). Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers in the world but ESPECIALLY to my beautiful, amazing Mom who gave me life and loves me unconditionally, who even in my worst, brings out my best. Who can be the coolest mom and the lamest mom at the same time. Any other mom has been through nothing you have and yet you still stick by me! I love you most Mom! I hope you have a great, fantabulous day and I love you with all my heart! You’re at the top of the list of the people I love. Sorry Dad. Sorry Cary. Sorry Trudy. The next best thing to having you as mom is for my kids to have you as a grandma. You’ll always the best mom anyone could ask for. I LOVE YOU!!

Ellie

Back in the day, I made a website to learn what this www thing is all about all about. I still don’t know, it’s a moving evolving thing. It’s like trying to describe what chocolate tastes like or holding water in your hands.

AdMojo stands for Advertising, Michel’s only job opportunity. It’s what I do. you can get to it here:

http://www.admojo.com

This site has changed quite a bit over the past 12 years or so, so have I.

So my site is a portfolio with lots of stuff that I have created over the years, there’s print ads and tv spots from way back. If you are from Cincinnati, you will remember them. There’s also some stuff about me and what I believe. I’m working on an archive site with all the old sites to laugh at, believe me there’s a whole bunch of stuff to laugh at.

You facebook friends think you know me, but you don’t, becasue I too am evolving.

There are quite a few stories on this WP blog that you may or may not have perused, check them out too.

Thanks for looking, if you need some creativity, give ma call.

I went back ad re-read my 2008 CreativeRightBlog post from days after the election, today, and boy do I feel stupid.

http://thecreativerightblog.blogspot.com/2008/11/after-deep-cleansing-breath.html

I am Charlie Brown asking Lucy to hold the football, over and over. Or like rooting for the Cincinnati Bengals-total disappointment over and over again. I know that I am a creature of my habits, always have been and probably always will be.

My life doesn’t radically change that much, I am comfortable with that. I was worried about what President Obama would do to my exceptional country and my worries bore fruit. I didn’t know it then that I would actually start protesting and become more of a conservative activist. The Tea party spawned and made me feel not so alone. There’s lots of people out there that feel just like I do-millions of so called “angry white men” and radical extreme grandmas and grandpas, racist, malcontents and militia.

I got attacked for standing up for the Constitution and not wanting our country to go bankrupt. My friends and some family members hated and still hate the Tea party movement. I don’t understand their hatred. It doesn’t make since. I’m the same guy. I have principles that are worth standing up for.

But today, the day or two after another humiliating political loss, I am afraid. If the economy double dips, I will most certainly lose my job. That’s scary.

I’m disappointed and angry and have lost faith in my fellow Americans. I always gave the American people the benefit of the doubt, not anymore. I’m afraid that they don’t know what they have done…messages have been transmitted to Vladimir, the fundamental transformation is about to go FORWARD-full speed ahead Mr Parker, full speed ahead.

I’m devoted to the traditional American view and history — vision, as well — of what creates prosperity. The old capitalism, the old arguments of hard work, stick-to-itiveness, self-reliance, charity, helping out in the community. The other half of the country does not and that saddens me.

It seems that over half of the nation just wants their government stuff, they believe they are entitled to it all- free health care-it’s a fucking right, give em their free on demand abortions and contraception and obama phones, food, shelter, EPT cards, childcare, education and union pensions from 55 on. As Rush said today, people are not going to vote against Santa Claus if the alternative is being your own Santa Claus.

This nation of Honey BooBoo’s has suckled up the the Big Gov teat and will never be weaned. I believe in individual responsibility but more than half of the country does not.

Dumb asses.

But why should they, the richy rich stole their wealth and have always held them back for the free and easy success & wealth of there own. Share the wealth, you didn’t build that, pay your fair share, its all for the social justice and shared salvation. Get on board Michel, be team player. Everybody gets to play, winning is optional. You are no better that anybody else. Nobody can answer the question of what happens when the rich take their wealth and leave or it’s just taken from them and spread around. Once it’s gone them what? They will look at the next in line and then the next- that’s you and me folks.

I feel like I have been kicked in the teeth. Thank GOD for gummie bears.

So, I will be a good loser for a day or two AND THEN I’M DOUBLIN’ DOWN! It’s time to study up on the rules for radicals and start practicing the principle of extremism. I’m labeled that already, might as well go all the way. I’m not shutting up, I will expose the truth of the Liberal lie. Politics is dirty, so I’ll get dirty. Or I’ll come up with a smarter communictions approach.

Someone has to say NO to Obama, I’m up for the challenge. So you’re either with me or against me, my back is against the wall. I’m a wounded animal in survival mode. Don’t feed the animals. Enter the pool at out own risk, there are no life guards on duty. Or I may just give up and get in line like the rest of you lemmings.

So my question to you, my progressive friends, is this; Why did you vote for Barack Hussein Obama? Give me your most honest answer BUT make no mention of Goerge Bush, Mitt Romney, angry white men, GOP or any of the other talkin points. I challenge you to change my mind. I promise to consider all plausible ideals. Sway me.

Just when you thought you could unhind me on Facebook.  As I said on Wednesday, I’m down but not out.