Mitch’s Blog on Life, Books & Marketing

In cleaning up the desktop of my computer, I found this random passage I wrote shortly after New Year's Day. It doesn't really refer to anything, but since my blog has been a bit bare, I figured I'd post it... why not?

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It was Saturday morning, 11:39 a.m., in San Francisco. The sun was out, but it was cold. Very cold. The kind of cold that reminded you of winters spent in the Colorado mountains.

I sat in a trendy café on the corner of Hyde and Pacific, just a few blocks from my one-bedroom apartment in Nob Hill. In front of me lay my laptop computer, my iPhone and my large coffee in a paper cup. My messenger bag was at my side, and other patrons lined my view.

Some, like me, were solo. Others were joined by friends, wives, lovers, perhaps. A small dog was chained to an outside post as her owner purchased a drink in the café. The dog barked, and barked. Stupid dog.

I just sat there, absorbing the life that fluttered about, listening to the Indie Rock that blared from the corner speakers. What the hell band is this?

I was 28 years old, exactly two weeks away from turning 29. My mind was awash with everything, and nothing. I sat there confused, trying to find meaning in my existence, my surroundings. But all I really wanted at that moment was a bit of clarity, and a refill on my French blend.

Just got the Deluxe Version of Pearl Jam's Ten Reissue in the mail, via the Ten Club. Can't wait to hear Brendan O'Brien's remix of one of my favorites albums of all time. (Full disclosure -- I don't really know all that much about O'Brien, but apparently he's pretty good with a soundboard).

Pearl Jam -- Ten

I was 11 years old when Ten was first released in 1991, and after hearing Alive on the radio, I urged my mom to buy the CD for me (which was one of the first compact discs I ever owned). I remember listening to Alive and Even Flow over and over again, and not really listening to anything else on the disc, at least in the beginning.

From the opening guitar riff, Alive just hooked me. It was unlike anything I had ever heard, and it's still one of the only songs (to this day) I can sit and listen to the entire five-plus minute version without any desire to change the song or leave the room.

Update [4/19]: My girlfriend did not win our office pool, which is alright, I guess since she's no longer my girlfriend. So it goes...

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On paper, I should be the hands-down favorite to win my company office pool for the 2009 NCAA Basketball Tournament. I’ve logged hundreds of hours watching games and highlights; read every newspaper article, Internet story, and blog post on the sport; and have spoken to numerous journalist buddies who cover college hoops to get their insider opinions.

I was more prepared for this year’s NCAA tourney than I was for my high school SAT exam.

So, imagine my surprise when I logged-in to ESPN.com this morning to find out who’s leading our office pool… My British girlfriend.

My British girlfriend, who’s never watched a single minute of college basketball, is leading our office pool.

My British girlfriend, who’s never heard of any of the players, coaches or schools in the tournament, is leading our office pool.

My British girlfriend, who’s never even heard of an office pool, is leading our office pool.

How on Earth could a non-sports fan, non-gambler, non-American­ be leading our entire office pool when all other participants are so well-versed in the sport?

To quote the great British rock band, The Who: “I can’t explain…”

You’re probably wondering how she did it. Well, I’ll tell you.

The night before the start of the tournament, I told Lorraine she would be entering our office pool. I did this not because I thought she would win or do well… I did this to clear the path of allowing me to watch college hoops for the next three weeks in the comfort of my own apartment with her (willingly) alongside me. This was great “man” strategy on my part, and even Lorraine was excited to watch the games now that she was invested in the tournament… Mission accomplished.

That same night, I explained to her how the tournament and pool would work, and then I took her game-by-game through the brackets with her picking a winner in each game. Did I give her any insight, or share with her my opinion…? Not at all. I simply named the two teams that were playing in a particular game, and also told her the seed for each team.

Our conversation sort of went like this:

Mitch: Who do you think will win -- No. 1 Connecticut or No. 16 Tennessee-Chattanooga?

Lorraine: Well, I have a friend from Connecticut, so I pick Connecticut.

Mitch: Do you like No. 7 California, or No. 10 Maryland?

Lorraine: That's easy. Since you’re from California… I’ll take Maryland.

Mitch: How ‘bout No. 4 Xavier against No. 13 Portland State?

Lorraine: Ooh – I like the name Xavier… Maybe for a little boy, or a dog. I want Xavier! And can we get a dog…?

And on we went through each game, just like this…

But a funny thing happened on the way to the Sweet Sixteen… Lorraine was winning, and by a wide margin at that. Lorraine had correctly predicted 40 winners in 48 games (83%). By comparison, I’ve called only 38 of 48 games (79%), and my friend and office mate, Tim – who’s probably the biggest college basketball fan in the whole company – was getting trounced by my girlfriend.

If the University of Connecticut makes it to the tournament final on April 6^th and wins the game, my British girlfriend will have won our entire office pool. Call it “unbelievable”, call it a “miracle”… call it whatever you like. But whatever you call it, or even Lorraine, you’ll need to call her “office pool champion” if UConn cuts down the nets in two weeks.

It just goes to show that it doesn’t take brains or insight to win your office pool, but just dumb luck. It also goes to show, unfortunately, that women are always right… always.

My friend, Sandy, e-mailed me to ask if I had any skiing or snowboarding tips for a beginner. Just in case any of you, my loyal readers, are planning to hit the snow for the first time, here was my reply:

1. Don’t engage in both skiing and snowboarding. Just choose one mode of getting down the mountain and stick with it. Assuming you ski or board more than one day, you’ll get the hang of whatever you’re doing and it should become much easier. If you mix and match, you’re, potentially, setting yourself up for “a fall”. [Get it…? Thought that was funny…]

2. Snowboarding is much easier to pick up than skiing, but once you get comfortable on skis, there isn’t one inch of the mountain you’ll have trouble accessing. On a snowboard, there are several rough areas (mainly those areas that are flat).

3. Whatever you do – ski or snowboard – lean forward! This goes against what your body will want to do once on the mountain, but by leaning forward, you’ll be much more in control than if you stay back on your heels (which most newbies will do). You will fall at first… this is a definite. But once you get the hang of leaning forward and going down the mountain, you’ll pick things up much quicker.

4. Don’t freak out if your friends or companion zoom down the hill while you’re still attempting your first turn. Screw ‘em. Go at your own pace and enjoy the ride.

5. The most important piece of clothing – gloves! Make sure they’re warm and water proof. Otherwise you’ll be miserable.

6. While the first chair lifts typically lead to the easiest terrain, skip the first chair and go farther up the mountain. There’s less skier traffic, more open space, and more groomed trails. Practice on these runs rather than those near the bottom of the mountain.

7. Make sure your first drink off the mountain is a cold beer… there is nothing better after a long, satisfying day of skiing (and I’m a vodka guy).

8. Have “911” pre-dialed on your cell phone, just in case…

Here were my New Year's Resolutions for 2008, along with a quick note in BOLD if I achieved my resolution, or not:

Thanks to everyone for checking out my blog this past year; the three of you (including you, Mom and Dad) have been incredibly supportive and loving. A heartfelt thanks to you all...

Due to the current states of the economy, international relations, and the San Francisco 49ers, there is much uncertainly heading into 2009. But at least the Flight of the Conchords are returning for hopefully another hilarious and uplifting year, so '09 can't be all that bad, right...?

I wish you a safe New Year's Eve wherever you may roam, and prosperity and health for the year(s) to come.

Cheers!

-Mitchell Schneider

I’ve been interviewing a lot of people for open positions at my company, Marketwire, and I’m surprised at the number of mistakes these folks have made during the interview process. I’ll chalk many of these missteps up to the fact the majority of interview candidates are just so young and inexperienced. But seriously, it’s shocking some of the things these people do (and don’t do) during our hour or so together.

In hopes of improving your chances for a quality interview and possibly landing a position within our organization, I recommend the following ten tips in meeting with myself or my colleagues:

1. Under no circumstances should your résumé list that you were captain of your intramural volleyball team in college… I would save this bit of info for late night discussions in bars and/or when you're divvying up teams for a beach volleyball game.

2. When I ask you about yourself, I’m hoping you quickly describe where you’re from, your educational background, your professional interests, and how you ended up in San Francisco. Please omit your favorite TV show, preferred type of ice cream, and your astrological sign.

3. Guys – learn how to tie your tie. For some of you, it’s like you attempted to put your tie on while riding a roller coaster backwards in the dark… It’s “knot” that difficult!

4. Keep your answers short and to the point. Oh – and be honest… When I ask you what your ideal position is in life, do not respond, “I've always wanted to be a Customer Relationship Manager at Marketwire – that would be swell.” If your ultimate ambition in life really is to be a Customer Relationship Manager at Marketwire, I hope your old guidance counselor has since found new work.

5. Ladies – no mini-skirts, jean jackets or flip-flops during our interview. In fact, these items should never be worn… unless your name is Gidget.

6. Turn off the cell phones. If 20 minutes into our discussion, your phone starts blasting “Pour Some Sugar On Me”, you will quickly be pouring out of our office.

7. Ask good questions! This is crucial, since major elements of our jobs are the ability to fact-find and probe. However, none of those questions should be:

-When do I start?
-How long do you get for lunch?
-Can I bring my six cats into the office?

8. Make sure there are zero typos on your résumé. I’m not sure how it’s even possible to trick your computer, Microsoft Word or even the Internet into allowing a misspelled word to be digitally transferred, but somehow it still happens. And for those candidates who list their science background, the correct spelling is O-R-G-A-N-I-S-M, with an N and an I!

9. Do not, I repeat, do not send me a “friend request” on Facebook 15 minutes after our interview. 

10. And do not, I repeat, do not give me a hug after our interview (though I can understand why it’s tempting… I’m quite warm and fuzzy).

[I apologize in advance for the following blog post…... I must have blog-block. Proceed with caution.]

I saw an ad on TV last night for Antonio Banderas' new cologne, "Blue Seduction", and immediately I thought: What a stupid, stupid, stupid name. Blue Seduction…? Are you kidding me…?

But the more I thought about it, it came to me that nearly all names of men's fragrances are absolutely ridiculous and beyond comprehension. Here's just a sampling of scents I came across:

-Cuba Red
-Eternity
-Fuel For Life
-Green Irish Tweed
-Escape
-CANDIES
-Contradiction
-Obsession
-Very Sexy For Him2
-Bora Bora Exotic
-Curve Soul
-Chrome

I can only imagine a curvaceous blonde telling her man, "Nothing makes me hotter than when you wear Curve Soul... kiss me." 

Everyone has their “drink”; that one libation they turn to when at a bar, a restaurant, a club or even their own home. No matter what the situation – a rough day at work; the celebration of a friend’s engagement; recuperating after a break-up; or just absorbing the inertia of life – we all have that one, go-to cocktail that momentarily brings clarity and calm to the craziness of our lives.

My own “drink” is Ketel One [vodka] on the rocks, with olives. And in the five or so years I ordained this concoction my own, it has never failed me. The first few sips of a Ketel/rocks has a very sharp and biting taste. It’s tough to consume, and your body experiences an immediate shake-up as the cold vodka transfers from lips to tongue to throat.

But after a few minutes – after the Ketel coalesces with the melted ice and precipitous olives – there is nothing more satisfying in a highball glass. The taste is indescribable.

I realize glorifying an alcoholic beverage may make me appear, well… alcoholic. I assure you, this isn’t the case (at least, not Sundays through Thursdays). But the sooner you can identify those things in life that just seem to “fit” you (outside of your family and friends), the easier it is to pick up and absorb the other items in life that make it worth living.

Any time I walk into a bar, a pub, a restaurant or a lounge, I may not know where the night or even life may take me. But at least I know what I’ll be drinking…

We're a big family here in the San Francisco office of my employer, Marketwire. And when we bring on new folks, we're always sure to welcome them with open arms; educate them on why we're the world's #1 newswire; and always, ALWAYS provide them with enough pens to make it through the day.

Rookie Cube

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