Love...Down For The Count?

"Love doesn't always die with a loud bang, but rather, maybe even more sadly, with a whimper."

A recent comment to my last post asked for a comment on the above statement. And, since I've never been asked to comment directly, I felt compelled..well flattered actually, that someone was actually engaged enough to ask.

So here's my take on it. Love doesn't die...period. Hope dies. Faith dies. Expectation dies. Desire dies. Grandma dies. The dog dies. Love, nope....not possible. Now, before you all comment to the contrary, hear me out. And trust me, I'm not an 18-year old quivering virgin. I actually haven't quivered in years. Tremors maybe. Quivers no.

Remember the adage, "God is Love?" If you believe in a higher being, a spiritual guide, a universal oneness, then you must come to the conclusion that love doesn't die. How could it? It would bring the destruction of entire religions, philosophies and cultures. There would be no more really good love stories. Hollywood would crumble. Most of us would just pack it in right now. In my own life, I can honestly say that I still love everyone that I ever started out loving. Maybe I'm just lucky. Or is it something else?

I believe I've chosen to love for all the right reasons, and this goes for friends as well as lovers. What are the right reasons? Well, to begin with, those chemical ones that no one can explain. Then layer on all the beautiful quirkiness that make each person we meet so special. Include generous portions of want, not need. Add a dash of tolerance, remove too much expectation and you have a pretty good recipe to start.

People will disappoint you. It's inevitable. Why? Because they can. We all have our list of basic human needs, unfortunately, they are rarely the same for any two people. In fact, they are never really the same at all. It's a function of testosterone and estrogen. They don't chemically exist well together without some hormonal imbalance. Just remember the commonalities that bring us together must simply remain stronger that the differences we might allow to tear us apart.

I know a girl that lives for attention. She has to be the prettiest, the smartest, the most everything. Even when she's wrong, she's right. She needs to live every day in Perfectville. Even the idea of one single flaw or deviation from the perfect train can bring her to complete and utter dysfunction. Her boyfriend is a drug addict. Why? Because no one should ever take on the task of being everything to another person. It's too much pressure. So, he's chosen to disappear in the only way he could figure out; self-medication. This philosophy holds true of friendships as well.

People will let you down. It doesn't mean they don't care. It just means that they're not wearing your matching "LOVE" t-shirt today. Don't judge them. Love them for who they are with all their glorious flaws and everything that makes them truly unique...and I suspect they'll do the same for you. What you put out there is what you get back...so just put it out there.

I've never understood why people are so afraid of that concept. Say what's actually on your mind. Tell someone you love them. Or you're mad at them. Or you love their hair. Buy a friend a gift. Take a friend to lunch. Do a silly dance in the middle of your office. Break into song. (Just stop picking your nose in your car at the stoplight. As much as it doesn't seem so, the windows are actually transparent. I can see you and that's just gross.)

Stop worrying about reciprocation or how it will be accepted. Live, just live large, great and a memorable life. That is what everyone will be talking about after you're gone...from the room or from the planet.

How absurd it would be for us to believe that people should do what we want them to, behave how we want them to, say what we want them to in any particular situation. Do any of us do exactly what everyone in our life asks of us at any given moment or in any given situation? Nope...and don't kid yourself by saying you do. Because you don't. No one does. Not even my dog does that and he loves me unconditionally.

But more importantly, I don't want him to. I want him to poop on the carpet every now and then. Or chew up a shoe. Or bark at two in the morning. Why? Because if love was really that predictable and controlled, I don't imagine it would be all that much fun.

Wait a Minute, I'm on the Phone.

There was a time when a person spoke to you and they looked you straight in the eye. That one look would tell you everything. You would know if they were telling you the truth. You could see if they were happy, sad, preoccupied, nervous, or tired. Sometimes, you just wanted to see if they were stoned again and didn't include you. Whatever the reason, you were both present and in the moment.

Today, our communication devices are diverting our eyesight and attention away from each other and onto our tiny little digital displays. And while we're busy looking down, we could get hit by a bus. Or trip over a bag of money. Or miss the simple eye contact it takes to initiate an exciting new romance or what could turn into a life-long friendship. With the advent of modern communication technology, have we lost the ability to truly communicate?

I was walking out of the bank today when I heard a hearty hello coming from beside me. Politely, I turned to respond. Didn't I feel like a dipstick when I noticed the Bluetooth earpiece? We've all done it. We go to respond to someone we think is talking to us and then we feel bad or embarrassed when we realize they are not. We actually take the time to feel bad or embarrassed for trying to be polite and friendly to some shmuck that's polluting the air with his mindless drabble and unwillingly including us. What's wrong with this picture? I think these are the guys that should lose an ear or two to Mike Tyson.

Later at the gym, I listened to another guy's entire conversation on the treadmill. He was going on about his girlfriend and how she doesn't understand him (he seemed extremely complex) and how they can't communicate. He went on to say he was fed up with her and when he hung up he was going to text her and break up with her. Since he decided that is was fine to share this information with everyone around him including me, I felt it was an invitation to participate in the conversation. And being somewhat of an armchair psychologist, I felt compelled to help him with his problem.

I told him that you don't break up with anyone using text messages, singing telegrams, post-its, emails, cell phone calls or skywriting. You don't bake a cake with "so long chump" in the icing. You don't ask a friend to tell her. You don't ignore her phone calls. You don't tape a note to her door. You don't send Shannon Doherty. You simply say the words, directly to her face in simple and loving language she will understand. And then you can run.

Lately, I've gone to lunch and dinner with friends that have one eye on me and one eye on their cell phone. They'll get text messages. Smile, laugh and giggle and reply. Has anyone ever gone out on a bad date that eyes every piece of human flesh that walks by the table? Doesn't this amount to the same thing? If you find your cell phone more engaging company than the person you're with, perhaps you should be dating it. You already know how to push its buttons. And, phones with vibrate mode can be especially pleasing. You can even take sexy pictures of yourself with your phone. I'm sure you'll both be very happy.

And then there's text messages. I've been in group situations where people are texting each other and carrying on an entire conversation about someone else they don't like that's sitting right in front of them. Years ago, this would simply be whispering and it was impolite and if your mother raised you right, you didn't do it. When did we become so afraid to say what's on our mind out loud and with conviction?

As we become more engaged with technology and increasingly disengaged from our humanity, we have much to lose. We lose the ability to really listen. We lose the ability to read people and really understand them. We lose the art of conversation and persuasion. Our friends simply become contacts and address book entries. Due to the constraints of texting, we ourselves begin to abbreviate our real feelings. We are at risk of becoming more introverted and unable to say what really want to say right up front and face to face where it really counts.

I challenge us all to turn off our cell phones at lunch, dinner, the gym, the movies and any other social gathering. I challenge us to turn them off on Sundays and spend time connecting with the people you really care about face to face. The more time you spend away from your cell phone, the more you will discover, that like TV, you don't really need it all that much anyway. Besides, how many text messages a day do you really need with that profound and engaging opening line,"Wassup?"

Got What Happens In Vegas Just Do It

It starts as one great idea. Let's take Got Milk? Then let's add Got Beer, Got Yogurt, Got Condoms, Got Fleas, Got Music, Got Fish, Got Jesus and 10,000 other rip-offs of a simple slogan created by countless marketing "professionals" who's last good idea was a decision they made in the finance department where they should have stayed. There's a whole website devoted to all the copycats of the "Got" campaign. Which leads me to ask the question, what happened to original, fresh, creative advertising?

Apparently, it turned into boobs, which is ironic considering who's coming up with this stuff. Flip through any Las Vegas magazine. We need to sell sushi. I know, let's put a boob on it. We need to sell condos. I know, let's put a boob on it. Nightclubs? Boobs. Restaurants? Boobs. Clothes? Boobs. Beer? Boobs. Boobs. Boobs. Boobs. Boobs are the new toolbox for creative professionals. Adobe Photoboob. Microsoft Wordboob. Macromedia Boobmaker. Crayola Boobmarkers.

When did advertising professionals decide that the solution to all creative problems were boobs? Or rip-offs? Or copy cats? The downfall of great advertising began with the operations guy that decided every silly idea that pops into his head is great. Or perhaps it can be blamed on his secretary which he promoted to marketing director because he liked the way she color-coded his file folders which means she must be creative. Never mind the purple dress, green pumps, white belt with gold "I'm a Gemini" buckle, blue eyeshadow, pink glossy lipstick and silver glittery eyelashes she's wearing while she's giving a a college educated art director crucial creative input like "don't put too much ink on the page, too much ink destroys the environment and that kills the whales and stuff." (True story, yes, it really happened.)

You know the guy I'm talking about. He usually starts his sentences out with "this is not my area of expertise...but." He's the one with all the yes men around him to support every dumb thought that rattles around in his head and drops out of his mouth. The problem is he never went to school for advertising. He never studied art or design. He thinks his girlfriend is the perfect model for all of his advertising, and he doesn't mean after she gets her braces off, loses 30 pounds, grows a foot, shaves the moustache and the burns heal from that curling iron mishap.

So where do we go from here? Well I say that out of respect, Got Milk should simply stay Got Milk and What Happens in Vegas Will Stay In Vegas. Advertising professionals should JUST DO IT because it's the right thing to do. And we should leave creative development in the hands of those that are trained to do it. After all, would you rather have a high-strung ad guy on his sixth cup of coffee and seventh round of revisions performing laser eye surgery or just marketing it?