And now, the Great Recession destroys... unhappiness?

According to researchers, how you spend has a greater impact on your happiness than how much you spend:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/08/business/08consume.html

I completely agree. Although two VW Jetta TDI wagons would undoubtedly make me happier than one.

Cue Homer-esque drooling and babbling about high gas mileage with sporty handling...

Posted via email from briandunaway's posterous

My TAMUC class

A video Texas A&M-Commerce made for the university's online magazine. It's me and my teaching partner, Kiran Koshy, talking about our art direction / copywriting class. Man, I need to stop mumbling so much.

$1 million and six months

If I had a million dollars and six months to do something amazing, I’d get America and the world to realize that we’re all fishermen. Every one of us.

I’d do this by handpicking nine friends in the advertising industry to take a five-month sabbatical with me in coastal Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama and Florida.

During the day, we’d work as volunteers to clean up the beaches and wetlands affected by the BP oil spill.

But at night, we’d cook dinners for the fishermen directly affected by the disaster. Fishermen, their families, and their friends. Nothing fancy, just good food and good conversation for people who are now out of work.

In other words, we’d make dinner for the people who used to make ours.

These dinners would be streamed live on the Web at www.dinnerwithafisherman.com. I'd invite people worldwide to join us for dinner and hear how how the oil spill is affecting living, breathing human beings. Today. Now.

I’d also capture the dinners on film with my nine-person cleanup-volunteer-cook-staff-movie-crew. We’d come away with all kinds of real, unscripted moments: some of them heartbreaking, some humorous, and many of them poignant and hopeful.

After five exhausting but amazing months, my friends and I would take a final month to make a film: “Dinner with a Fisherman” — an ode to Gulf fishermen and their endangered way of life. And how that affects all of us.

I’d work to get “Dinner with a Fisherman” distributed far and wide. The proceeds would go to the Gulf Fisherman’s Fund, which I would set up to help retrain fishermen for work in other industries (and to support their families while they do it).

Last of all, I’d take the visual of an empty fisherman’s hook and make it the symbol for my cause. I’d get celebrities to wear the empty hook in public to raise awareness (á la Livestrong bracelets and Susan G. Komen ribbons).

Because in the end, an empty hook means an empty plate… and an empty life for thousands of families and communities on the Gulf Coast.

It’s that empty hook that connects us, and makes us all fishermen.

That’s about the coolest thing I can think of to do with a million dollars. And six months.

After which I'd go back to work and make ads. But I'd feel pretty damn good about what I'd helped accomplish.

Thanks for reading.

Posted via web from briandunaway's posterous

Feeling the need for Pariiii

This post from a NYTimes blog reminded me why Paris is my favorite place on earth. The food, the museums, the vibe, everything. I need to get back there soon... or maybe I just need to get out of Dallas?

Ok, so: favorite part of visiting Paris. It wasn't a particular museum, and it certainly wasn't the Louvre (a personal disappointment because of the throngs of eediots snapping pictures of themselves in front of fine art). It wasn't the Eiffel Tower or Notre Dame or even Versailles — although all of this was on such an epic scale, it was overwhelming.

No, I think my favorite part was hanging out in the Latin Quarter, and visiting the Pompidou Center, which houses the Musée National d'Art Modern, which blew away every other museum I visited.

Afterwards, in the surrounding streets with their bistros and bars and secondhand booksellers and young people everywhere, I kind of felt like a Paris local (or how I imagined it would feel to actually live there). It was comfortable and interesting and unique and alive.

Precisely how I'd like to feel every day, wherever I am.

The greatest letter ever written?

No. But it's probably the best letter I've seen in a year or two. And it's bookended perfectly by a couple of nice bits of humor:

People of Earth:

In the last few days, I’ve been getting a lot of sympathy calls, and I want to start by making it clear that no one should waste a second feeling sorry for me. For 17 years, I’ve been getting paid to do what I love most and, in a world with real problems, I’ve been absurdly lucky. That said, I’ve been suddenly put in a very public predicament and my bosses are demanding an immediate decision.

Six years ago, I signed a contract with NBC to take over “The Tonight Show” in June of 2009. Like a lot of us, I grew up watching Johnny Carson every night and the chance to one day sit in that chair has meant everything to me. I worked long and hard to get that opportunity, passed up far more lucrative offers, and since 2004, I have spent literally hundreds of hours thinking of ways to extend the franchise long into the future. It was my mistaken belief that, like my predecessor, I would have the benefit of some time and, just as important, some degree of ratings support from the prime-time schedule. Building a lasting audience at 11:30 is impossible without both.

But sadly, we were never given that chance. After only seven months, with my “Tonight Show” in its infancy, NBC has decided to react to their terrible difficulties in prime time by making a change in their long-established late night schedule.

Last Thursday, NBC executives told me they intended to move the “Tonight Show” to 12:05 to accommodate the “Jay Leno Show” at 11:35. For 60 years, the “Tonight Show” has aired immediately following the late local news. I sincerely believe that delaying the “Tonight Show” into the next day to accommodate another comedy program will seriously damage what I consider to be the greatest franchise in the history of broadcasting. The “Tonight Show” at 12:05 simply isn’t the “Tonight Show.” Also, if I accept this move I will be knocking the “Late Night” show, which I inherited from David Letterman and passed on to Jimmy Fallon, out of its long-held time slot. That would hurt the other NBC franchise that I love, and it would be unfair to Jimmy.

So it has come to this: I cannot express in words how much I enjoy hosting this program and what an enormous personal disappointment it is for me to consider losing it. My staff and I have worked unbelievably hard, and we are very proud of our contribution to the legacy of “The Tonight Show.” But I cannot participate in what I honestly believe is its destruction. Some people will make the argument that with DVRs and the Internet, a time slot doesn’t matter. But with the “Tonight Show,” I believe nothing could matter more.

There has been speculation about my going to another network but, to set the record straight, I currently have no other offer and honestly have no idea what happens next. My hope is that NBC and I can resolve this quickly so that my staff, crew, and I can do a show we can be proud of, for a company that values our work.

Have a great day and, for the record, I am truly sorry about my hair; it’s always been that way.

Yours,

Conan

The Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien... unbelievable how NBC let this gem fall through their bumbling fingers.

Men Happy to Be Free From Owning Houses? Amen.

This NYT article was a revelation to me. For four years now I've tried and failed, sometimes miserably, to get "into" maintaining my three-bedroom torture device.

After reading about other men and their home-ownership woes, I've decided that I just can't get into home maintenance/ownership/decorating/etc., and probably never will.

From day one I've been so averse to any project in my house that I would put off things so long it's embarrassing. For instance: I have a brand-new, in-the-box toilet that's been sitting next to my bed for nearly a year because I can't stomach the thought of trying to install the thing.

A toilet. This is supposed to be easy. Especially for a man.

But I'm sorry, this man is a writer and a hiker and a traveler — and, let's face it, someone with a very fun and very demanding career.

And on its face, the very idea of home-ownership seems completely opposed to every goal I have in life: to be engaged and interested and interesting... to live in many interesting places and pursue lots of interesting activities over the course of my life.

And to me, mowing the lawn or painting the bathroom or installing a toilet ain't that.