March 7, 2008
meet the flockers: jeff ventura
I’ll begin by saying that nobody has EVER called me Ace, Jesse or Ventura County. Nobody. So if you hurry, you can be the first to stake a claim way up high in the creative troposphere.
I am 38 years old, although I am told that will change next week on March 16th. I am a Pisces, which is a fish, which is stupid. It’s because of this incredibly lame draw in the astrological lottery that I’ve become very left brained and view the world as a logical, knowable system. As a result of this wiring, I forgive no mystical endeavor. Had I gotten the lion, or even that crazy archer guy, well, then I might be different. Whatever. Their loss.
I am married and have a three and a half year old son named Marc. My son surprises me every day, and I still haven’t gotten used to what a sponge he is. Just this morning, as I cut up his double-chocolate Pop-Tart, he told me that my car is two-wheel-drive. And then, he added after taking a sip of milk, rear-wheel-drive.
Hell yes.
I live in Michigan, which contains the mortar-torn hamlet of Detroit, which holds the proud distinction of being Forbes most miserable city to live in. I work as a Director of Marketing for a consulting company, which is quite literally run by the most progressive, generous, humanized people I’ve ever met in my professional career. I am not kidding. Before my current gig, I worked in very large corporate-like place doing product management stuff, which means I attended meetings and used lots of buzzwords while actually getting nothing done. But if you wanted deliverable, actionable value-rich synergy full of strategic, differentiating integrations, boo-ya. I could sign you up.
I write another blog, GracefulFlavor. It is my personal blog and it’s been going for about 18 months or so now. Sometimes I swear on it then snigger to myself when it gets published.
I am a bit of a fitness nut, and if I could tour the country and speak to sold-out auditoriums about something, it’d be nutrition and the state of our food today. Or maybe Mac stuff, as I’m an Apple fan. Or maybe the best Will Farrell quips. Or maybe ice hockey.
I attended the University of Michigan. I was pre-med for 2.5 years and then I hit organic chemistry, which took me out back and beat me with a shovel and took my money. I then changed to MIS/business, and wound up with a degree in management. So yeah, I pussed out. Sue me.
My ultimate goal is to be a paid writer, which involves sitting around in microfiber sweats in front of a computer writing things that get published somewhere and very impressive checks flow into my mailbox. That hasn’t happened yet, so I’m seriously considering tracking down my old college career counselor and kicking his ass.
As much as I love ice hockey, I can’t skate for shit. It’s really pathetic, like watching a cat with tin foil on its feet try to run from a roaring vacuum. But I can play a mean game of floor hockey. The preceding sentence should never be uttered by anyone older than 15.
I like to read a lot, although I think I have BADD (Book ADD) because I can’t seem to finish anything I start. I blame Google Reader for this, because there’s just so much out there I have to know.
I am happy and honored and thrilled to be a flocker. Thank you for having me.
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20 Responses to “meet the flockers: jeff ventura”
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And we’re thrilled to have you. Welcome!
Fitness, feh. But Mac and ice hockey, yes!
You have the same birthday as my mother. But, um, she’s older than you are. Don’t tell her I told you that; it’s a secret.
Welcome.
Pleased to make your acquaintance, fellow Pisces.
(Have you ever noticed how the standard description of the Piscean character just barely manages to skirt coming right out and saying, “Pisceans, you are the fuck-ups of the zodiac”? No? Oh. I apologize. And anyway, you are practically an Aries — a ram. That’s pretty good. Better than me, a bicuspid born ’round the time the guy with the water jug turns into the two fishes. Now that is goofy.)
I’m Taurus, the bull. But in flocker years, Jeff and I are twins (if only his name was Michael Smith).
Welcome, Jeff. I had a student come into class recently (American Lit.) and he looked very pale–about to go into shock it seemed. A friend of his, already in the seat next to him, turned and said: “Organic Chemistry?” A minute or so later the pale one nodded.
Daryl: it’s the worst. For real.
Eh, about that double-chocolate Pop Tart: Was it the dark chocolate variety that they make with whole-wheat pastry flour?
Sheila: I get it. Touche. But I didn’t buy them, my wife did. I wouldn’t touch the things.
To offset the rush of hydrogenated nastiness and HFCS, I gave Marc half of my bowl of Ezekiel 4:9 sprouted flax cereal topped with blueberries. He actually liked it.
First we welcome you, then we get on your case.
Jeff, if we can just survive this hazing, we’ll be fine.
I think being invited to flock, Michael, means you aren’t fine.
Welcome, Jeff.
A friend of mine said the following about the flock:
She followed with:
“Just this morning, as I cut up his double-chocolate Pop-Tart, he told me that my car is two-wheel-drive. And then, he added after taking a sip of milk, rear-wheel-drive.”
that’s my kind of guy!!!
hello pisces, nice to meet you, i like fishes
Amy: done. Now what?
What I meant to say was:
Welcome, Jeff.
Your first exercise is to say this three times out loud.
Amy: what fun. I overshot 3 by about 86, but whatever.
I belong now. Vagina.
Jeff, this is not the hazing per se; think of it as the pre-hazing.
The good news is that there is no post-hazing. The bad news? The hazing never stops. Ever.
What weenies! Afraid of organic chemistry! I taught physical chem lab at college [P-chem]. Organic was a big yawner. Of course, we chem majors have bad grammar. Also, I can’t skate worth a crap as well, but enjoy watching hockey.
Jeff, I did some time in Troy, MI a while back (12 or so years ago) as Visual Merchandising Manager of Saks Fifth Ave. I lived across the street from “The Collection” in a beautiful parklike setting.
Welcome!