A blog whist I intern at MAD Magazine

It’s been a dream of mine to be an idiot one day. But not just any idiot, one of MAD Magazine’s “Usual Gang of Idiots.” That’s what they call their contributors.

One would think that it’s easy to be an idiot. But one would be an idiot to think that. But, hey, that was easy, right? Well not for MAD. MAD Magazine’s Idiots are an elite group of skilled and disciplined artists. Yet they’re still idiots and I want to be one.

Right now I concede that I am a species of idiot, albeit a lower species. I will be working at MAD as an unpaid intern for five weeks this summer. But that just makes me desperate to fulfill a dream, not quite an idiot.

I’ve got two days until I board a plane to New York City where I have absolutely no housing arrangements and no hotel room to stay in while I look for more permanent-temporary housing. I want to move on that but I’m sure something will pop up. And I believe that makes me hopeful, not quite an idiot.

But this plane ticket… I bought it online and printed it on my home printer. The money’s out of my account so I guess I’m set. Still, I’m not sure what exactly I’m supposed to take with me to board. I looked over the papers and they have numbers and times but no real directions like “Detach stub here and give to lady at counter” or, even more high-tech, “Scan bar code with robot that looks like lady at counter.”

And what can and can’t we take on the plane? I’ve heard they confiscate liquids and metal objects. I was hoping to take some cologne that I’m convinced females like and a big metal T-square for drawing – the latter looks kind of like a sword, at least to those Amtgard folks. My hope is that the security guard has played his fare share of D&D in his day and will know the difference.

I was also told not to take nail clippers so I cut my nails down to the quick because I don’t like biting them yet I also don’t want to look like Nosferatu after a few weeks. I guess I can slough off any gowth by scratching that giant emery board they call sidewalk cement…

I’m starting to wonder what is and what isn’t a weapon to the airlines? I’m sure with enough force one could puncture the skin with a toothbrush if they wanted to. Even soap when it’s in a wet sock can cause injury according to Hollywood. And my drawing pencils? The sharpener? Will everything need to be dull? Does NERF make a line of non-threatening toiletries and/or art supplies?

I may just risk it and take it all. What are my options? I need my possible-pinch-wound-producing nail clippers and saber-like T-square and confidence-inducing man cologne in New York, right? What can the plane people say?

Plane person: “Um, sir, don’t you know you can’t bring that stuff on board?”

Me: “Maybe.”

Plane Person: “What are you, an idiot?”

Me: “I’m working on it.”

Share/Save

A blog whilst I intern at MAD Magazine

The first day on any job is a bit intimidating. It’s even more intimidating when that new job is at a place with people who’s work you admire. Instant insecurity.

MAD Magazine is steeped in history. It started out as a comic book in 1952 – satirical in nature then and now. The founding fathers were editor Harvey Kurtzman and publisher William Gaines. MAD has now surpassed 500 issues (it’s currently getting ready to stock the stands with issue number 504). Come on! Every other humor magazine (e.g., Cracked) is like the freckled-face little brother to the freckled-faced Alfred E. Newman.

Throughout the years, some of the finest, smartest, and most talented artist and writers (not to mention editors) have graced the walls and halls of MAD. To be in the presence of a few of them today was a wonderful experience. I must say that they all acted with kindness, respect, and, of course, humor. I’ve never experienced that before and I’m grateful.

As it turns out, they accepted us interns for a job to (strange as it sounds) work. But part of that work was to thumb through MAD Magazines. I almost felt guilty letting the time fly by sitting in a beautiful Manhattan office laughing at MAD articles. But then I remembered that they weren’t paying me so the guilt faded away while laughter filled the air.

And these guys are funny and quick witted. I felt like molasses sitting in their meetings.

Just a side thought: I visited the Cracked site to get a feel for the competition and I’ll stick with MAD. I never bought Cracked when it was on the newsstands. I don’t buy it now.

MAD will rise again. MAD is a pioneer. MAD is stalwart. And when it comes to humor, MAD is DAD.

It’s a wonderful opportunity to be working with such an iconic image of our times. I’m grateful. I will do what I can to contribute. If they choose to run anything of mine, that would be awesome. If they do not, that’s not as awesome but still ok. After all, I’m still working with MAD. I still believe in what they do and what they’re all about.

And as for feeling intimidated? That should wear off. Life is just one day after the next. In the end, it’s all about our experiences and the people we can touch in a positive way. And it’s that type of thinking that gets me through all of life’s trials. What, me worry?

Share/Save

A blog whist I intern at MAD Magazine

I’m not sure how much I’m supposed to blog. I get college credit for this experience (and more importantly I get to deduct the whole trip on my taxes). To get that credit I’ve gotta blog. I’ll hear back from the director of the program soon enough. In the meantime, I’ll just blog every day that I work. If you like it, good! If not, well you’re probably not reading this anyway so who cares.

Today marks the 18th anniversary of the passing of William Gaines, the much beloved first and long-standing publisher of MAD. Much of what I do in the publishing aspect of my little business is based on the actions of Gaines. I was talking with the other intern (whom I call Beatle) about how, from what I can ascertain, William Gaines believed in MAD Magazine so much that it had little choice but to succeed. It didn’t matter that he never did any market analysis, nor sold advertising, nor tried to keep up with the other magazine Joneses. In fact, there’s one story about how he paid extra to have MAD printed on cheaper stock paper even though it was in short supply. Genius!

I don’t know if there has been, is, or will ever be another publisher like Gaines. He was notoriously cheap yet very giving at the same time. Such a dichotomy is reminiscent of the nature of MAD – seriously goofy.

William Gaines, thank you. Thank you for being who you were. Thank you for doing what you did. Thank you for acting in a way according to your beliefs in spite of what people said. And, most of all, thank you for MAD. Your legacy will live on.

On a lighter note (see music pun soon…) I camped out at my new favorite spot Bryant Park after work. And, to my pleasure, there was a live free concert being played. I worked on an article for MAD while sitting in a beautiful setting listening to the live jazz band Jeremy Udden’s Plainville. It was fantastic! The weather was nice and the mood was calm in spite of Manhattan’s after work rush hour.

The Big Apple’s a tasty place to be in summer.

Share/Save

A blog whist I intern at MAD Magazine

First, I need to make a correction. June 3, 2010 is the actual anniversary of William Gaines passing. I heard in the office that it was the second, then I checked Wikipedia and it said June 3rd, but I figure that the horses mouth knows better. Well, today the horses mouth corrected itself so I, the horses other end, shall do the same. Regardless of date, his memory and legacy remains.

I got around to taking a photo of me with that Alfred E. Newman statute that was created for the infamous film “Up the Academy” which MAD lent it’s name to. The story goes that the movie was one of the worst films in history. So bad that MAD not only took it’s name off of the credits, but also harshly ridiculed it. And, as the story continues, the staff sent in letters of complaint for having to sit through it in order to ridicule it. In any case, the makers of the movie gave the MAD group the statue used in filming. To this day MAD does not know if that was a gift or an insult. I kinda like it. So I posed with it and gave my goofiest grin (which, sadly, is my only grin).

Today was a good day for ideas – not so much mine but others. Beatle, the other intern made something of a hit and it was interesting to be in the think tank as the editors tossed around ways to make the idea make the most impact. Perhaps I wasn’t contributing as much but I think the idea and the image he came up with was pretty solid. I hope he gets it published.

At lunch I made a trip down to renowned Greenwich Village for the obvious reason everybody heads there: to go to the bank. That really is a great place to be. I fell into a trance as I strolled up and down the tree-laden streets amid beautiful brownstone buildings adorned with lush flowers… What was I saying? Oh, yeah. I had to go to the bank. Well, normally my bank is opposite a Burger King or a used car lot. Not here in New York. Directly adjacent to the bank was the magnificently constructed Grace Church. I had to take a picture and share. It’s amazing how some architecture can have a profound affect on us. Breathtaking.

I’ll tell you what else was breathtaking: that hot dog I scarfed down on my way back to the office. That was the best $2 hot dog I ever ate, I tell you what. The pigeons came strutting around looking for crumbs and I swore I heard one actually say, “Selfish glutton!” Get lost, sky vermin!

Best part of the day? The guy I’m staying with let me in on the secret to cheap New York coffee! I can’t wait to try it out. Gotta love the java!

Share/Save

A view of Manhattan from across the Hudson River

A blog while I intern at MAD Magazine

I took some time today to wander around my immediate surroundings: Jersey City, NJ. Though I have been staying here for a week now, I had not ventured any further than a half mile from my sleeping quarters. I have my reasons.

Today I decided explore. And like all great explorers in the history of the world, the first thing I did was to look up the city’s official website. Judging from the pictures that they display, Jersey City is a clean place. Not so clean today. Or any of the other days since I’ve been here for that matter.

I’m not complaining, mind you. I’m just telling it like it is: there is a lot of litter in this place. It’s actually a bit odd. I feel like I’m a Twilight Zone episode walking around streets laden with trash and no one seems to mind. It might be one of those things that we, as humans, get used to the sight of. But for me, it’s weird.

My hometown is Las Cruces, NM. And while there may not be lots of urban excitement, the place is clean. In fact, that’s one of the things I like best about Las Cruces. And because it’s clean, it seems like people are less likely to muss it up. There’s a psychology lesson in there somewhere…

There’s always a silver lining though. While I was walking around I thought to myself, Jersey City should use this to their advantage. They should embrace their litterbug personality and be the nation’s largest employer of janitors. Jersey City could be known as Janitor City. It could be a place to nurture those children who yearn to be janitors when they grow up. They could have a janitor university, a theme park with rides, and even restaurants with the waitresses dressed up as maids and what not.

All kidding aside, this place really does need a large crew of janitorial staff. One may argue that there may not be money in the budget for it but one may not have just trudged through popsicle wrappers and cigarette butts just to get home.

Yes, I am making a criticism of this city. I make no apologies. Why? Because this city is strikingly beautiful beneath all that trash. There are so many gorgeous houses and historic buildings. There’s a sprawling waterfront. There’s interesting eateries and attractive parks. I’d like to experience this city fully, with respect. I’d love to see it sparkle like it should.

Share/Save

A blog whilst I intern at MAD Magazine

This pic will make sense later on. Trust me. Keep reading.

During the day, the pace of New York City’s pedestrians is hurried. Folks briskly weave through each other like a giant human tapestry. Rarely does anyone stop on the sidewalk and, if they do, they “excuse” themselves near to a building to conduct any possible traffic-stalling business.

It’s easy to think that it takes a superhuman to exist in such a realm. But I looked closer. Within the sea of people dashing to and fro, I spot slower individuals – sometimes with a handicap. One such woman has grabbed my attention. She walks with crutches and has corrective shoes. She moves slower but she does move and she doesn’t seem to let the city and it’s antsy inhabitants get to her.

I have not spoken with this woman yet but I’ve seen her a few times. The times I have seen her, I have not seen a scowl on her face – a scowl I’ve noticed on the faces of a good percentage of New Yorkers. Navigating the streets are difficult enough when one is able-bodied. This woman seems to navigate the streets to the best of her ability which seems as good as anyone else.

“Get going or get outta the way!” Is this what we call civil?

Why do I bring this up? Whether she knows it or not, she has had a profound effect on me. At times I can be ungrateful for the blessings God has bestowed upon me. I’ve been given a good life. And I need to remember that every time I feel like moaning and groaning about any particular event that didn’t go my way.

Have I had a better life than this woman? No one can claim one’s life better or worse, we all have ups and downs. When I was younger I had a few surgeries on my hips that forced me to use crutches for a number of weeks before and after the procedures. I remember how difficult it was to do some of the simplest tasks and how helpless I felt when I couldn’t move around at all. That’s no comparison to what this woman accomplishes every day but it does give me a tiny bit of insight, albeit very tiny.

Singing in the rain is like smiling in the sunshine.

Walking to the train station I got rained on. The sour looks on some of the folks faces made me smile. I didn’t smile because they were angry or that they looked funny, but because, if getting a little wet was the worst part of their day, they must have a great life.

I’m working on smiling more. I’m working on being more grateful. And I’m working on loving everyone. And I find that, in doing so, life gets a whole lot better.

I ♥ LC?

In other news, I purchased some postcards to send to my friends and family back home. A couple of the cards are the I ♥ NY variety. Believe it or not I paused before purchasing these iconic items. I questioned whether I, in fact, did love New York. In response to a friend’s emailed question as to how New York was treating me, I responded that we (the city and I) are coexisting and that  there is an understanding that he relationship may not be permanent. We are, however, enjoying each others company during our time together. New York is an absolutely fantastic city – probably the best city on earth – but it’s not quite the love of my life. It’s not her, it’s me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very much enjoying my stay. Just today I got to see Emeril Legasse cooking live with Geoge Stephanopoulos on the corner of Broadway and 44th. The meal smelled great but I heard one person mention to another that it was pork chops so I moved along before anyone offered me any. Love ‘em but they’re not kosher. But I digress.

I ♥ U

So I decided to purchase a few of the I ♥ NY postcards anyway. Why not? But as I did so, the thought came to me that I do love Las Cruces. Really, I do. The whole city feels like home. I wondered if there was anything wrong with me for loving a small New Mexico town more than the Big Apple. Then as I walked out the door to head back to the train I saw the sign in the picture to the left here. What are the odds?

Mere coincidence? Maybe. But you have to admit that it is a weird coincidence.

I’ll take in all that New York has to offer while I’m here. I’ll have a good time. I’ll experience every sight, smell, sound, etc. with full attention and appreciation. But I do love Las Cruces. I love the food. I love the weather. I love my friends and family and my dogs. I love home. And Las Cruces is a great place to call home, even in a place like New York.

Share/Save

A blog whilst I intern at MAD

Before working with MAD, I had two diametric assumptions of the process of cranking out a magazine: 1) Everyone involved – all artists, writers, editors – worked in one big crazy room (like that Simpsons episode), or 2) There was just a few guys receiving articles and plugging then into the publication. The reality is a mix of the two.

A lot of what is done at MAD is a bit of magic, such magic I cannot define. What I can say that I work with some really sharp and talented folks. Among them are John Ficarra, Sam Viviano, Joe Raiola, Charlie Kadau, Dave Croatto, and Dick DeBartolo.

I must admit I have been intimidated being in the same room with these guys, but I think I’m coming around.

Today I got to meet MAD contributors Teresa Burns Parkhurst and John Caldwell. I even got to sit in on a meeting with them. Very exciting and very inspiring.

Here is an old 60 Minutes segment on MAD done a long, long time ago. Still good.

Share/Save