I. On The Battle

Brett Weiner (WHY-ner), director/writer/producer: WEE-ner is a much more make-funable name than WHY-ner. WHY-ner is also not great. Because any time you complain, you get it used against you. But WEE-ner’s like… it’s a dick. So, your last name means “a dick.”

Scott Wiener (WEE-ner), politician: When people pronounce it WHY-ner, that drives me nuts. Whatever challenges there are around WEE-ner, WHY-ner is worse.

David Weiner (WEE-ner), creative and editorial director: I did a piece a bunch of years ago that was picked up by some right-wing blog. And that Fox News show Red Eye, with the host Greg I-forget-his-last-name, he did this whole monologue attacking me for my last name, saying, “if WEE-ner wasn’t such a WHY-ner.” And I was watching that and thinking, you know, WEE-ner does sound better than WHY-ner. I still think that. WHY-ner is not a good last name.

Kris Wiener (WEE-ner), aspiring comedian: I can understand WEE-ners saying, “we pronounce it WHY-ner” after growing up WEE-ner their whole life. But I don’t understand WHY-ners who go by WEE-ner. Other than having to tell people all the time, “No, no, it’s not WEE-ner, it’s WHY-ner.”

Brett Weiner (WHY-ner), director/writer/producer: So many people were calling my uncle WEE-ner, that he just gave up and started going by that.

David Weiner (WEE-ner), creative and editorial director: You can make your case for both. But I do think WHY-ner is a cop-out. It’s a wuss way to go.

Juli Weiner (WEE-ner), journalist: It’s cowardice.

Brett Weiner (WHY-ner), director/writer/producer: If you had the choice, would you pick WEE-ner over WHY-ner?

Russell Wiener (WEE-ner), musician: Generally anyone with i-e is WEE-ner, or they’re lying. People with e-i usually pronounce it WHY-ner.

John Weiner (WEE-ner), screenwriter: It would piss me off they thought I was pronouncing it wrong. Because it’s been a battle having that name. So, for somebody to say that I’ve been mispronouncing it my whole life… I really think you’re a fucking asshole. You’re an ignorant asshole, I think to myself.

Rachel Weiner (WHY-ner), journalist: I think WHY-ner is technically accurate, according to how you would pronounce it in German. VHY-ner. And then the i-e would technically be VEE-ner. That’s what I’ve been told, but I have no idea.

Juli Weiner (WEE-ner), journalist: I studied German in school, and there’s a rule for German vowels. “The first one does the walking, the second one does the talking.” Everything that’s e-i should really be pronounced AYE. So, it should be WHY-ner.

David Weiner (WEE-ner), creative and editorial director: I’ve heard this a lot. “It should be WHY-ner because of the e-i, and then i-e should be WEE-ner because,” etc., etc. But what I always use as an example, if you look at a name like Weinstein, it has the e-i in two different places, the “AYE” and “EE.”

Josh Weiner (WHY-ner), comedy writer: One time I asked how do we pronounce it, and they said “It’s WHY-ner, not WEE-ner.” I never knew why. It’s like, what makes it tomae-to or tomah-to? Maybe it could be my grandfather’s father just making a decision to be “WHY-ner” to alleviate any more unnecessary jokes.

John Weiner (WEE-ner), screenwriter: My dad, he pronounces it WEE-ner. His dad pronounced it WEE-ner, and he was in the mob. He worked with Lucky Lucciano. “Crazy Eyed” Louie Weiner was his name.

Juli Weiner (WEE-ner), journalist: I wouldn’t correct people, so inevitably some weird situation would arise at parent/teacher night. It would be like, “I’m Dr. WEE-ner,” and the teacher would be like, “Oh, I’ve been saying WHY-ner.” And it would be pretty awkward. There was a weird tension there.

Brett Weiner (WHY-ner), director/writer/producer: I went to an event recently where you have to wear name tags, and I wrote “W-H-Y-N-E-R.” I feel like a lot of people were like, “Who the fuck is this guy? Why does he care so much how we pronounce his last name?”

Juli Weiner (WEE-ner), journalist: It’s confusing. Like, we should have some sort of caucus where we vote on how to do it.

II. On Origins

David Weiner (WEE-ner), creative and editorial director: My real last name was Schuster. The family lore goes that when my great-great-grandfather was coming into Ellis Island, his route from Europe included a stop in Vienna. At some point they were asking “What is your name?” and he didn’t speak anything but Yiddish and Polish and he said, “Weiner,” which means Vienna. And that’s what stuck. We have no idea if that’s truth or not, but Schuster to Weiner is a pretty big leap. One that will haunt us forever.

Kris Wiener (WEE-ner), aspiring comedian: The family story was that our family had some long complicated Austrian name, and then at Ellis Island they couldn’t figure out how to spell it, so they just said, “Call them Wieners because they’re from Vienna.”

Juli Weiner (WEE-ner), journalist: It’s a fake name that was adopted in Ellis Island. I think the actual last name was something like Vrjynski, or something as equally horrible.

Russell Wiener (WEE-ner), musician: It is an invented name, at least in our case. It was changed at Ellis Island. My family immigrated in the late 1800s, and we don’t know what it was before. It was something long with a W, and probably ending in a -ski, like Wienowski or whatever.

Rachel Weiner (WHY-ner), journalist: I just learned recently that when my great-great-grandparents came to Ellis Island it was Winninger.

Scott Wiener (WEE-ner), politician: We’re Jewish/Eastern European. When my paternal grandfather came here shortly after the turn of the century, it was spelled “Weiner.” And then in the 1920s, he changed it to “Wiener” mainly because he was enamored with German language and culture. Of course, this was before they killed 6 million of our people.

III. On Hardships

Josh Weiner (WHY-ner), comedy writer: When I was a kid, I dreaded going into new social environments.

Scott Wiener (WEE-ner), politician: I was fortunate in that I’m six-foot-seven, so I was always the tallest kid. I didn’t get picked on too much. People would sing, “I wish I were an Oscar Meyer wiener.”

John Weiner (WEE-ner), screenwriter: “Oscar Meyer wiener,” some form of that joke, because that commercial was huge back then in the 70s. The name brought out the dumb bully jokes. So I’d hear them, and I’d come right back at them with a joke ten times better.

Josh Weiner (WHY-ner), comedy writer: Have you ever seen Roxanne with Steve Martin? So, he’s got this big nose and there’s this scene in the bar where the guy says this joke about his big nose, and Steve Martin’s rifles off 50 better jokes about his big nose. Just embarrasses the guy. So I would think about that if someone ever made fun of my last name. Like, wow, that must have been really hard for you to do.

Rachel Weiner (WHY-ner), journalist: The only insult I remember is from middle school is where a kid came up and said, “If your middle initial was S, you would be ‘Rachel’s Weiner.’” That’s probably the meanest thing anyone’s ever said, and it really wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t anything like Welcome to the Dollhouse.

Russell Wiener (WEE-ner), musician: I remember in junior high, this one kid on the bus going around and giving everyone nicknames, pointing out people’s foibles or coming up with a rhyme. And he got to me and they said, “What about Russell Wiener?” And the kid’s just like, “Oh, he’s just a weiner.” It was like, that’s not really an insult.

Kris Wiener (WEE-ner), aspiring comedian: I didn’t come across any bullying, I think that’s partially because I was raised overseas.

Josh Weiner (WHY-ner), comedy writer: In elementary school, from first through fourth grade, I was teased every year. But in junior high and high school, there was nothing. It totally went away. Then as soon as I got back into college, it was just “WEE-ner, WEE-ner, WEE-ner!” all over again. In some way, the stuff that was funny in first grade becomes funny all over again. Especially when you deal with alcohol.

Juli Weiner (WEE-ner), journalist: In high school, I became best friends with a girl name Julie, which is my first name, so all throughout high school I was called Weiner. She was Julie and I was Weiner, or some form like Ween. Which sort of reclaimed it. I felt cool, like one of the guys, being called by my last name. In college, I had difficulty re-adjusting to once again being called by my first name.

Brett Weiner (WHY-ner), director/writer/producer: The thing that would get me was roll call, when they read the names of all the students. And every single time it would be “Brett WEE-ner,” and I would have to correct the teacher and say “WHY-ner.”

Juli Weiner (WEE-ner), journalist: On the first day of school the teacher would read everyone’s name, and I would sort of hope they’d say WHY-ner. But most of the time they would ask “WEE-ner or WHY-ner?” and I’d say WEE-ner, and there’d be some snickering.

Kris Wiener (WEE-ner), aspiring comedian: I think it forced me to have confidence early on. Like at that first day of school, they almost always err on the side of WHY-ner. Or they get to your name and say, “Um, how do you pronounce that?” And then having to say, “It’s WEE-ner!” with confidence.

David Weiner (WEE-ner), creative and editorial director: In pre-kindergarten, when the teacher got to me, she kind of stumbled a bit and clearly didn’t want to say “WEE-ner” because (a) in front of a bunch of five-year-olds, it’s going to be disruptive; and (b) if you say something wrong to a kid on their first day of school, it’s going to haunt them. So she went with WHY-ner and I corrected her and said, “No, it’s WEE-ner. Like a penis.” You have to own it, and really have to own it. When you have a last name like Weiner or Cumming or any other easily-mockable names, you either sink or swim.

John Weiner (WEE-ner), screenwriter: Of course, the first day of school. They go around and say, “John WHY-ner.” And I’m like, “Here. It’s WEE-ner!” They always defaulted to WHY-ner. Now I always hear, “Thank you, Mr. WEE-EYE-NER.” WEE-EYE-NER. They go right down the middle. I don’t know if it’s a neighborhood thing. I’m in Echo Park, and most of the cashiers are Mexican, so maybe it’s a straight pronounciation thing. Or maybe they start off with WEE and think “it can’t be,” so they bail out as WEE-EYE-NER.

IV. On Alternatives

Scott Wiener (WEE-ner), politician: I thought that as soon as I turned 18, I was going to change my name. I was just sick of it, sick of the jokes. And my mother would get very mad at me, saying that I was insulting my father.

Rachel Weiner (WHY-ner), journalist: As a young kid I was like, I can’t wait to get married and change my name. But now that I’m an adult… maybe if I married someone with an amazing last name.

Kris Wiener (WEE-ner), aspiring comedian: I never want to change my name. I think it’s a huge part of who I am. And also my boyfriend, who I think about when I think about the idea of getting married, has the same first name as me. So changing my name would give us the exact same name.

David Weiner (WEE-ner), creative and editorial director: Would you want your kid to have that last name? It’s a bit of a debate. But I think not naming my kids Weiner is a weird cop-out.

Rachel Weiner (WHY-ner), journalist: I guess I should tell you also that at one point my mom tried to get my entire family to change our last name to something else. She wanted to sit down and try to come up with a new name, but my dad was not in favor of it.

David Weiner (WEE-ner), creative and editorial director: My brother got married two weeks ago, and his now-wife is taking our last name. And my mom, who’s been a Weiner for 43 years now… you think she’d have gotten used to it. But she pulled my brother’s wife aside and said, “Why on Earth are you taking our last name?”

Juli Weiner (WEE-ner), journalist: Whenever I thought about it, I always imagined my future husband’s name would be worse than mine. I imagine falling in love with a man named VaginaFace or something. There’d be no way out, and I’d have to keep Weiner.

V. On Tony

John Weiner (WEE-ner), screenwriter: It was such a proud name before his scandal.

Brett Weiner (WHY-ner), director/writer/producer: The Anthony Weiner scandal, aside from being so weird and ridiculous on so many levels, has not done great things for the WHY-ner pronunciation of the name.

Rachel Weiner (WHY-ner), journalist: I feel like it’s worse for me because it popularizes that pronounciation of my name.

John Weiner (WEE-ner), screenwriter: It’s a shame because when he first started up, I liked him. I know he’s just speeches, he didn’t actually do anything in Congress, but he articulated a lot of passion that was needed at the time when George Bush was there. So I was like, that’s fantastic. But then the worst possible thing happened. It’s like a raging pun of perversion.

Josh Weiner (WHY-ner), comedy writer: It’s such an obvious, easy joke to go to, nobody really does. We get it. Maybe I’m looking at this from the perspective of a comedy writer, but no self-respecting comedian would go onstage and make a joke, “Hey, this guy’s Weiner and his WEE-ner.” I mean, it’s the most fucking hackiest joke ever. You’re a hack. It’s too easy of a joke. The joke is definitely on the person who’s making it.

Kris Wiener (WEE-ner), aspiring comedian: I’ve been asked a couple of times if I’m related to him. But he spells his name wrong.

Juli Weiner (WEE-ner), journalist: I went on MSNBC to talk about the mayoral race, and the publicist emailed, “Just making totally sure, there’s no relation, right?” I tweeted right after that, “I’m going on MSNBC in an hour to talk about my crazy dad, Anthony Weiner.” And I had to clarify to her that it was just a joke. And then when I went on, they identified me as Juli Weiner, “no relation, ha-ha.”

Rachel Weiner (WHY-ner), journalist: When I was writing about it, people would email me and ask if we were related. It might have been good for Search Engine Optimization, I’m not sure.

Juli Weiner (WEE-ner), journalist: I really wanted a “Weiner for Mayor” sign. But just one that says “Weiner, 2013” with an exclamation point. I should really get my hands on those, because they’re only going to be more expensive.

John Weiner (WEE-ner), screenwriter: I wouldn’t say it’s a compliment, but I’ve heard since high school, “You don’t look like a Weiner.” I don’t have the stereotypical look of what a Weiner would look like. Anthony Weiner, actually, he looks like he could be named Weiner.

David Weiner (WEE-ner), creative and editorial director: Now, it’s not the last name that’s being mocked anymore, it’s the fact that someone with your last name did something else. There’s actually a slight remove from the stigma of the last name Weiner. Now, there’s a man.

VI. On Lasting Effects

Scott Wiener (WEE-ner), politician: It’s made me more easy-going. When you have a name like Wiener, you get used to people making jokes about your name. It makes you much more relaxed about teasing and ribbing about things. And when you’re in politics, you need super-thick skin anyway.

Russell Wiener (WEE-ner), musician: It builds character, I guess.

Rachel Weiner (WHY-ner), journalist: I like to think it’s made me a little more sensative and considerate to people who have something about them that makes them get picked on or draws unwanted attention. Because, you get some of that.

David Weiner (WEE-ner), creative and editorial director: I think having the last name Weiner meant I had to be funnier than the next guy, had to make the joke first to deflect.

Scott Wiener (WEE-ner), politician: In 2010, I was in this highly competitive race, and I had these bright orange and midnight-blue windows signs and, of course, the biggest part was my last name. But what I hadn’t anticipated was that kids had absolutely loved it. Someone had plastered their area with “Wiener.” So, I’d get random emails from parents saying that when they would drive kids to soccer practice, they’d play a game where they’d count the number of “Wiener signs” they’d pass. When kids are going on and on about their signs, that certainly has an effect on parents.

Rick Paulas’s first AOL screenname was rcpweiner.

Man In A Weiner photo by Becky Stern. Photo of German war volunteer by Joe Robinson. “Stop Weiners” photo by Mike Krzeszak. Weiner dog race by Zach Taylor. Anthony Weiner photo by David Boyle. Big shelf o’ weiners by Robert S. Donovan.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYxRdBzcqPQ

The video for this one is a tad disturbing, but the music is good, sludgy fun, so maybe just slip on the headphones and keep it going in the background. [Via]

by Awl Sponsors

The Toronto International Film Festival just came to a close, but you can create your own film festival at home with these film festival favorites on SnagFilms.

The Weather Underground: Watch this Chicago Underground Film Festival phenom centered on the late 60s student radicals The Weathermen. Interweaving archival footage with contemporary interviews, the film paints a compelling portrait of revolutionary times with unexpected, striking connections to today’s world.

Primer: A Grand Jury award winner at Sundance, this cult classic blends sci-fi and mystery as two brilliant engineers travel back in time. As noted by Esquire, “anybody who claims he fully understands what’s going on in Primer after seeing it just once is either a savant or a liar.” Test yourself.

Sita Sings the Blues: A kaleidoscopic, whimsical animated film by Nina Paley, Sita Sings the Blues is a semi-autobiographical story of a young female cartoonist who moves to India with her husband and becomes fascinated by the “Ramayana” folk tale. Heralded at the Tribeca and Berlin film festivals, it weaves together the lives of women separated by centuries but bound by parallel experience.

Bring the festival home by signing up for SnagFilms instantly and for free.

Colloquy: Is New York’s Next Mayor A Charming Amateur Or A Devious Genius?

BALK: Choire, will you do something telling us whether the McCray/de Blasios are secret geniuses or, uh, other?

CHOIRE: Haha fuck if I know. Omg we might be so fuckkkkked. But it’ll be fun! We’re going to have an amateur government! What’s freaking you out?

BALK: It started with the suicide Dad thing. Like, “I had never even told Dante.” It did not occur to you that once you won the nomination this kind of thing was going to come out? I do not enjoy being put in the position, BEFORE THE GUY HAS EVEN BEEN ELECTED, of having to hope he was lying to us because the alternative is more disturbing.

CHOIRE: But he did the smart thing by busting the Post before they published, so that’s a good sign.

BALK: A two-line statement in advance of the Post article screams nothing but “UNPREPARED.” ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE RUNNING FOR ONE OF THE MOST VISIBLE POSITIONS IN AMERICA.

BALK: And then this article in the Times, where she comes off as an amazing person and someone I would love to hang out with, she is ASTOUNDED and pissed off that people ask about Dante’s hair now? Like, the centerpiece of your entire campaign, the ad whose whole purpose was to say “It is okay to vote for him, black people,” you’re angry that everyone wants to embrace that?

CHOIRE: lol. I DO THINK IT’S WEIRD to not tell your son about his grandfather. But that’s kind of typical family shit. Also, never trust a Michael Barbaro summary. God bless but… So when you read this:

She has been taken aback by the sudden stardom of her Afro-favoring son who has been mobbed at public events, deluged with requests to appear on television and irritated that those who approach him only want to talk about his hair.

“What blows my mind is how much there is, it’s amazing,” she said. “I don’t think anyone — not one of us — anticipated it would be such a thing.”

Like, who knows if she would have come across as “irritated” to us.

BALK: Yeah, “taken aback” was my red flag there.

CHOIRE: “’These crackers are CRAZY,’ she said.” (She did not say.)

BALK: But again, if there weren’t all the overwhelming evidence of rampant, “Oh fuck, we actually won?”ism it wouldn’t have alarmed me as much.

CHOIRE: Well I can imagine they are somewhat surprised by suddenly actually winning! They didn’t spend ANY MONEY. Their win actually makes no sense on the face of it.

BALK: No, absolutely, this is the classic “peak at the right time” election. BUT WHEN THAT HAPPENS YOU GET PEOPLE IN WHO ARE LIKE, “Now be ready for this.”

CHOIRE: I feel like they’ve been around enough administrations to do that.

BALK: Okay, well, I am just gonna hope they are trying to project a “naive, can-do, too pure” vibe while being secretly devious etc.

CHOIRE: Just like the Obamas!

BALK: Oh man, I hope they are actually efficient with their deviousness.

CHOIRE: Just like the Clintons!

BALK: I am trying to remember any example of devious Clinton efficiency. But the names Ira Magaziner, Dick Morris and Patti Solis are all that pop up.

CHOIRE: Marc Rich!

BALK: Hahaha yes, that was classic Clinton efficiency writ large. I mean, maybe it’s fine, maybe if even the people who expect to win and are all geared up to be coolly efficient and devious can’t get it together, how much worse could people who have no idea what the fuck they’re doing actually do? Maybe he’ll have a whole Klutzy Bill routine where it’s like, “Oh, I really MEANT to give you a retroactive pay raise with your new contract but whoops, I screwed up on the paperwork, sorry, but I will totally fix it four years from now when it comes up again” etc and people are just like, “Oh, that Bill.”

CHOIRE: People gave Anthony Weiner $6.5 million to run for mayor. So, like… I’m not sure anyone exactly has a good plan?

BALK: We’ll leave it on that optimistic note.

Photo by Public Advocate Bill de Blasio, via Flickr

“Researchers have discovered that people’s elevated concerns after tempting fate can be eliminated if they engage in a ritual that involves exerting force away from themselves. They found that engaging in the physical action can help eradicate a vivid mental image of the negative event, by literally pushing it away, making it less likely to happen.”
 — Your takeaway? “Bad luck really can be reversed by rituals such as touching wood and throwing salt.”

Is your wacky neighbor hilarious and fun — or terrible? Here’s an easy test:

1. Do they host book parties for E!’s “#1 Single” reality show contestant Allen Salkin?
2. Do they “blow out” your elevator?
3. Do they then immediately seek counsel when you complain?

Then it is possible that they are terrible instead of fun, but it’s hard to tell. Bonne chance!

SURE YOU ARE. Our weather pal Eric Holthaus banned flying from his life in light of the new IPCC global warming report, which essentially says we’re all screwed. Is there a point to personal change in a world where corporations literally don’t care? Hmm, maybe, but it’s real hard to care.

by Zachary Urbina

Back in the simpler days of Q3 of 2013, I attended Beautiful Minds, a competitive recruiting event at Bartle Bogle Hegarty, an English advertising agency with offices in Manhattan. “Mad Men” is generally indulgent fun, and I was eager to see how the ad business had changed, or if I was really lucky, not changed at all, over the years.

The competition, oddly, was a memorial tribute to Griffin Farley, a planner and strategist at the agency who died in February 2013. Happily, the dates coincided nearly perfectly with my vacation time, so Europe could wait, and I booked from Los Angeles to New York City instead. It felt like kismet, or at the cost of my flight-change fee, it had damn well better be.

We, the Beautiful Minds, rallied on the 19th floor of 32 Sixth Avenue. We were given the task of creating a media plan for CitiBike, the love-it, hate-it, or, at very least, keep-your-eye-out-for-it-while-walking-around-the-city bike sharing service, new to New York City back in May.

These were the things I discovered:

• Traditional Don Draper-esque ad men, like the grand and theatrical Richard Notarianni (Havas Worldwide) and the slick Brit Tom Morton (Goodby Silverstein NY), diluted handily by a small but potent cadre of women, led by BBH’s Sarah Watson, who ubiquitously shave the sides of their heads and gingerly sprinkle fuck into their vocab for credibility.

• Charming, childish in-fighting among groups of 20-somethings who scrambled to win the competition. Our group was five strong; three in their early 20s, myself 32, and one very hands-on fellow, with whom I clashed endlessly during the 24 hours of the development of our media plan. Like many type-A personalities, any ideas contrary to his own glided over the conversation water-over-duck-back style. I fast learned to sit on the desk, expect zero traction for my ideas, and offer up the occasional witticism or biting invective to earn what consolation laughs, if any, I could muster. Our team name was The Warriors, for reasons unknown (because we fought each other?). Our group temperament had the mood of a long ambulance ride at the bitter end of a dirty weekend.

• The ever-flowing alcohol from days of “Mad Men” yore was replaced with bottled water and bagels. The gender mix among supplicants was fairly balanced. The office halls of BBH held the sterile smack of a veteran’s hospital with the occasional black & white Platon portrait. While “even keel” would have been an appropriate moniker for the overall environment, it would be hard to imagine creativity doing little more than leaking out in fits and starts, the way a beach ball or inflatable doll makes an appearance in the crowd of a sporting event.

I quickly became immersed in a number of phrases: propagation planning; success metrics; the upper limits of retargeting; creative-centric. The stakes were high: “Brands today compete with everything ever made.” Who doesn’t love a good spell of crippling anxiety?

After two days working with four strangers, competing against the other applicants, winners were announced. We started in a BBH conference room, stopped in at Dos Caminos for a beer, and then my groupmate/nemesis balkanized off with one other group member and essentially devised his own presentation. I’ll spare you any potential suspense; The Warriors did not advance beyond the first round.

Krystal, our mentor from Anomaly, was patient, supportive, and offered up a charity laugh at one or two at my off-color jokes. Our two judges also doubled as jury and executioner. One gentleman, formerly of McCann Erickson, the other a CitiBike annual membership holder, saw right through our lack of group cohesion and remarked, in essence, that our hate-filled piñata of ideas had compromised too much with one another. Accurate.

On the final night, the advancing teams were slated to present to a standing room-only crowd. I watched who I would later discover was the winning team present their plan. Their catch-phrase, Bikes with Benefits, was led by a talented young woman named Rainbow Kirby — Twitter bio: “Social Media Addict. Integrated Marketing Strategist & Event Planner” — who sprinkled sexual innuendo throughout the presentation. (Such as: “Riding a bike.” Top shelf, truly.)

That same night, I had to catch an overnight flight to London to attend a party. During my French exit (or Irish goodbye, depending on who you prefer to offend), to whom did I run in while waiting for the elevator but the head of human resources at BBH.

Fortuitous, I thought. Redemption?

Oh, I said, You’re someone I’d like very much to meet. I presume BBH is hiring at the moment.

Actually we’re not, she said, suddenly studying the vertical buttons of the elevator, but you’re welcome to give me your email address.

Here’s what I really learned:

• Like absolutely everything else in New York, advertising is savagely competitive and there is always a bigger fish who can neatly reduce you to guppy-status, luck, talent, or circumstance permitting.

• The Warriors perhaps needed rebranding as the Prowling Hook-Handed Slashers At Large. Greatness is as much about brilliant ideas as it is about the appearance of brilliant ideas. To his credit, the member of our group with whom I repeatedly clashed had the loudest and most eye-catching shirt on the first day. Despite the fact that he hijacked the group, he also put solid time into our deck, purportedly into the wee hours of the night. The sides of his head were indeed shaved.

• Like most office jobs, advertising seems to have given way to neutered decorum and banal, declawed professionalism; the very reasons why creative people usually avoid office jobs to begin with.

Thanks to the constant connectivity of our digital times, I got in touch with Rainbow and discovered that she received an extra boost from her group’s win, leveraging it into an advertising job at Clear Channel.

My party in London was nice icing on a vacation cake otherwise baked with failure, perspiration, and middling despair. On my flight back home from London, I spotted one of the f-bombing female ad pros on the same plane, with a companion. Perhaps, in the interest of professional advancement, an appointment to an edgier barber is in order?

This whole digital business of creating memes, crafting tweets, and virally sharing ideas isn’t all too serious, yet should be handled seriously. It’s certainly not “real” in a tactile sense — but it benefits endlessly from authenticity.

My digital media job in Los Angeles is dependent on a relatively smaller business run by someone who “gets it,” but the it changes, almost daily. Rather than chasing some well-polished mirage of it — an actual dead man’s party — perhaps, next summer, that trip to Europe would be best.

Zach Urbina lives and labors in Los Angeles. Photo from the Bartle Bogle Hegarty offices by Amanda Kelso.

★★★★★ The sun from the east, passing through the partly turned leaves of the sycamores, was the color of olive oil. A little white was dissolved into the blue, too indistinct to be properly called clouds. Doors hung open in the bodega and the shops and restaurants, to equalize indoors and out. “Hello, gorgeous, beautiful, I like your long socks,” a man called out to a woman who was already crossing the street. The cafe was overrun in the afternoon, at no mealtime and late for caffeine. A sidewalk bench would do. Traffic crept along, an intermittently unmoving feature of the scene; somewhere within the cars, a nauseating deep bass was throbbing, separated from any audible music. A bride and groom crossed Prince Street, she gathering the ruffled ivory mass of her skirts in her arms, while a photographer snapped away in the late glow. On Lafayette, a woman in leatherish black leggings and a black fur vest, holding shopping bags, stepped into the street again and again, as another photographer and a reflector-bearing assistant captured and recaptured the moment.

“New research suggests testosterone can promote generosity, but only when there is no threat of competition.”