Enough Already.

Let's talk about Market Share. Share of mind, share of market, share of wallet. A close friend of mine who happens to also be a brilliant business man once explained share of mind as a concept to me. He used Q-Tips as an example. He stated his illustration by simply asking me, "What do you use to clean your ears?"

"A Towel." I answered.

"Okay, but what do most people in America use to clean their ears?"

"Q-Tips."

"Right. Now, what are Q-Tips?"

"... uh... " [blank stare]

"Cotton Swabs."

His point was simply that most people in the world call what they're sticking deep into their ear canals by the name of the company Brand who most heavily markets the product, instead of by the name of the product itself.

MY point, however, is this...

I USE A TOWEL.

I offer you exhibit A:
In case you can't read the warning in the pic, I'll help you out. (This is on the back of a box of QTips, by the way)...

WARNING: Do not insert swab into ear canal. Entering the ear canal could cause injury. If used to clean ears, stroke swab gently around the outer surface of the ear only. Keep out of reach of children. Idiot.

(italics mine).

"So wait a second", you may ask. "Then what are Q-Tips for?"

"Well, first of all it's Cotton Swabs. Secondly, I'll answer you with exhibits B and C:

I have tried it all. I've kept just the pinky nail on my right hand long enough to scrap out the excess crap from my ear so that I always have the option. I have horrible sinus problems every day of the year, so there's always something in there. I've also tried the whole wet tissue thing, doesn't work for me. Then I started hearing horror stories about people slipping while they had a Q-Tip... er... Cotton Swab in their ear, and being deaf from then on. Then I realized that there was a simple solution to the concerns of both audio hygene and the physical safety of my precious ear drums.



Step out of the shower. Roll up the corner of the towel. Swab. Dab. Swirl. Wipe. Switch corners. Switch ears. Repeat.

I have had this conversation so many times with people who aren't plagued with either the sinus disease that is yet to be named but has managed to haunt me throughout my existence, or the fear of jabbing some compressed cardboard stick through the soft tissue inches from their brain. The conversation, as one I had just recently with Spektor, goes something like this...

"Oh my God, Q-Tips are so amazing. Don't you love using Q-Tips? Doesn't it feel great!?"

"Nope. I don't use 'em."

"WHAT!?!?!?! How do you not use Q-Tips? What do you use?"

"A towel. I dry off. I use the corner of the towel."

"HOW is that POSSIBLE!?!?!?! That's so gross! Let me see your ears..."

"k."

"You liar. You have to use Q-Tips, your ears are clean. How are your ears so clean?"

"Exhibit D, man. Exhibit D."

So, this is the beginning of my official revolt. No more BS. Halitosis is already too far (see Listerine INVENTING diseases so their products are needed), but what's going to be the name of the disease that represents caked up orange ear wax?

I don't know. And I don't care. I don't have nasty, greasy ears. They're clean.

But I'm not going to succumb to the peer pressure to cram little white sticks past the welcome ropes and into the private party that is my skull. No More. It's painful if you have crazy sinuses. It may feel great if you don't, but it better be worth your hearing. Count me out. If soap, water, and a towel can't make it clean, then it's goh'ne stay dirty.

Nah'm sayin'?

Dear Red Fraggle

I have 23 minutes of battery life on my laptop, so let's make it snappy.

I'm going to see MuteMath tonight in Times Square. I'll report back, but for now, suffice it to say that I'm excited. I'm bringing Lektor, who has never seen them before.

Lektor and I went to see Martin Short's one man play on Broadway last night. Amazing. Very funny, and really displays his broad talent. More notably, we had literally the best seats in the house, front row center with no one on either side of us. I don't know how she did it, but I was grateful. I had read before that Martin Short had written into the show a segment where he would dress as Gimini Glick and call celebrities from the audience onto the stage and interview them. Last night the celebrity in the audience was Jerry Springer. It made me focus on the first time I saw Jerry Springer in person. I was on the Jerry Springer show with my family. Aweful. Absolutely Aweful. I'll tell you all about it some day.

We're going to see Rent next week.

Rosco is still a bad ass, and getting stronger and bigger everyday. I've got some pics online, but for now, just take this one, taken on his 10 month birthday.



... a short, furry, Ahnold. Right?

For those still not completely worn out with reports about a record that is seemingly never going to be released, Roy Mitchell-Cardenas is bringing my record to me tonight, and possibly coming back into the city this weekend to hang for a day or so, and maybe even work with me on my live show, which is yet to be developed.

Expect me to be talking a LOT about the new Damien Rice album. Even if I don't actually talk about it very much, 'cause I'll be thinking about it constantly. It's good. Surprising at places, mainly 'cause he made such a big stink about wanting to release a "heavy" record, but also because it's surprising how good he can consistently be. Oh, and Lisa Hannigan is still an Angel filled with Magic Juice that makes her voice massage your soul and... she's ridiculous.

That's all for now. I'm tired, it's too early to be blogging, but I'm almost out of battery, and I'm very very busy today, so I thought I'd get this out of the way. I love New York. I really do.