Hey, I’m a believer in our Don’t Do Stupid Stuff mugs.
I always have one — usually two — in sight at all times when I’m hanging out at The Columbian.
Heck, I have a couple at home because — you know — stupid stuff is not just unique to the workplace.
And — yes — I purchased them all. In part, that’s because when I came up with this crazy idea, I asked that 100 percent of the profit go to our staff. To do something special for them.
It’s not an easy time to be in the newspaper business. Forget about a cost-of-living increase. Folks around this newspaper — and most others — haven’t had a raise in years.
So when we put the mugs on sale, we decided to use the profits to bring in a coffee cart for a couple of hours or give away some decent gifts. Stuff like that.
And that’s what we’ve done.
But I’ve been busy saving the world, so I haven’t written about the mugs lately. Then an email came in and reminded me of that:
“Hi Lou. I have anxiously been waiting for you to say something in the paper about your ‘stupid mugs’ becoming available but no such luck as of yet. Do you still have any around for sale? They’d be a great stocking-stuffer for my kids.” — Judy Reid.
Thanks, Judy! And yes, they do make great stocking-stuffers.
We do have some left, but I’m honestly not sure how long they’ll be around. As you might imagine, sweet, cool, witty, entertaining, profound, $10 gifts like these move quickly at Christmastime.
For example, a wonderful lady came in the other day and bought 13. Apparently, she had quite the message to send.
Another woman came in with her therapy dog, Sammy, and bought two.
(Hey, could you leave Sammy with me for a couple of days? I could use a little soothing.)
For me, the beauty of these mugs is they can mean different things to different people.
Some folks buy them for their kids or friends to remind them not to do stupid stuff. Others buy them for — well — themselves, because they are self-assured enough and comfortable enough in their own skin to say, “Hey, no one is perfect, I can use it as a reminder.”
Folks like U.S. Sen. Maria Cantwell, Washington Gov. Jay Inslee, state Sen. Ann Rivers and Vancouver Councilor Anne McEnery-Ogle own them. So do many other folks you would know.
But mostly, they are owned by regular folks like you and me. If you already own one, you’re part of a very exclusive club. I’m not sure what the benefits are, but hey, you’re in the club!
For now, if you’d like one, come on in anytime during the work week. Our front desk — which opens at 9 a.m. — will sell them for as long as they last. And ask to see me. If I’m around, I would be happy to say hi!
Speaking of saying “hi,” I drifted over to the county commissioners’ meeting last Tuesday to say “hi.” But the commissioners don’t really talk much to me — not at all, if I’m being honest — so I just sat in the front row and fidgeted. I was just about to leave when Richard — the last of the citizen commenters — got up to say his piece. I love the public comment section of these meetings. It’s an opportunity for regular folks to get all up in the grilles of our elected officials. Commissioner Jeanne Stewart — fresh off an election victory — even got up in the grille of one of these colorful characters. Only in America.
Richard was very complimentary to the commissioners.
But his focus was not on them. It was on me. At least I think it was on me. I heard something that sounded sort of, kind of, like my name. Not exactly sure. You’re welcome to listen to the video clip I’ve provided and decide for yourself:
“I see we’ve got our local editor of the Pravda here,” Richard began. “The Vancouver Pravda. Lou Brancasassyo or however you pronounce that name.
“Ah, stick to writing about your colon. I think you’re better off with that. I think we’ve had enough of your dissension through the papers. People are getting tired of it. … Many, many people tell me the same thing.
“Anyway, glad your colon is doing fine.”
What the …?
Well, OK, I did write about getting a colonoscopy last week. But Richard, if you’re suggesting I stick to writing about colons, I’ll let you in on something a reader said to me after my colon column. “I see you’re writing about ,” he said to me. “But then I guess you write about every week.”
See Richard? Bet you didn’t think you were asking me to keep up the good fight against the . Maybe you should come on over and buy a DDSS mug. I’ll even sign yours!
