Sara

Aug 29

Posted by mattbarnette in Sara Cottrell | 7 Comments

My friend Sara Cottrell was born on Christmas Day.  Pretty fitting date, really.

She died this past Saturday, surrounded by her family, in her home state of Washington.

Sara was one of the most absurdly funny, scary smart, positive people that I have ever encountered in my 32 years. When she was diagnosed last summer with colon cancer, she opened a blog called “Sara’s Butt: Cancer will rue the day it entered my butt.” (read it at http://sarasbutt.wordpress.com)  She went through the trials of being a newly minted cancer patient, documenting the beginning stages of chemotherapy, and how you could bait a nurse to come check on you more often with baked goods and bribery. She cut out miniature celebrity visitors for each stage of her chemo to hang out on her I.V. and keep her company, along with all of her good friends that came by and helped her wreak her particular brand of havoc on the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance chemo ward.

"SECURITY!! This guy's no celebrity." -- Sara Cottrell

I mention the celebrity guests, because alongside Richard Simmons, Chuck Norris, David Hasselhoff (Baywatch, not Knight Rider) and Bret Michaels…I got to be one of the cutout guests to pass the time with her. She did have to declare that I was no celebrity, so I’m sure I was rounded up and tossed out at some point. Unworthy to loiter in the lair of Queen Cottrell.

I met her in 2000 or so. Some friends and I had been writing at one website, and started an offshoot called Hold Me Closer, Tony Danza. Along with the blog, filled with hackneyed attempts at “humor”, we also had a message board. That’s when an unknown poster by the name of “Treat Police” showed up and soon had us all cackling at her random, hilarious comments and observations. I started chatting with her a little bit, but she seemed standoffish. I have sort of a domineering personality, especially to people who don’t quite know me, but one day, my birthday, in fact, we had a breakthrough on the board, and it started a wonderful friendship.  I am not a fan of people just celebrating something for the sake of celebrating it. I enjoy the darker brand of humor, bordering on the completely awful. So, knowing my birthday was coming soon, I’d posted a comic strip from an old internet comic called “Space Moose”, which was one of the more offensive comic strips ever made. Ever.

This is the strip I posted as a subtle hint to birthday well-wishers:

SpaceMoose. The greatest comic ever.

The way I prefer to be treated on my birthday.

While everyone else was boring me to tears with that same old trite “Happy Birthday, Matt!” messages, this Treat Police character told me that I was one year closer to being found face down in a ditch. It caught me off guard, and it made me laugh, and we were instantly friends. She was the only one who got it. She would continue this birthday tradition, making it more and more morose and horrible every year. No one ever seemed to catch on that that I enjoyed THAT sort of thing way more than empty “happy birthday” greetings.

I’ll let Sara tell that part of the story, from a later explanation on why she did what she did:

“My birthday message was pretty much exactly what I posted on HMCTD several years ago for your birthday, before we were really internet buddies. I didn’t quite “get” you yet, and you scared me a little bit. But you seemed to like my birthday sentiments then, and I view it as kind of the turning point when I decided my delicate feelings were stupid. So I totally recycled that this year due to a lack of creativity, in hopes the sentiment would make up for it.You’ve been a really good friend to me for several birthdays now, and you’ve been responsible for a whole bunch of my Facebook status updates turning into crazy hilarity. You announced my biggest insecurity to the whole internet and still made me laugh. (I can’t believe you told everyone I live in Washington, dude). Pals ? <3

DON’T TELL ANYONE but secretly I hope your birthday didn’t suck and I don’t really hate you. Love, Mom.”

Why did she sign her message “Love, Mom”, you ask? Because, one, we were both highly goofy and made “Your Mom” jokes a lot, and two, she would defend me violently (acting as my mother) when anyone made a “Your Mom” joke directed at myself. To the point that she made her Facebook url “http://facebook.com/MattBarnettesMom” just to make me laugh.

Sara accepted that life was silly, and made the most of it. She was a loyal friend who truly cared about those close to her. She loved her cheesy white cowboy boots. She loved bad sweater parties. She would randomly text the word “Fart” to me, and for some reason it always made me laugh. We publicly espoused the virtues of tacos and lasagna and I respected her being a fan of the Seahawks as much as she empathized at the visceral pain I felt every time NFL season was about to start again, because I hate hearing about it soooooo much.

July 20th, 2010: She let me know that they’d found a tumor, and she entered into a battery of tests, biopsies, the works. She never let it get her too down and she kept a positive mindset, even when the ramifications of what was happening to her were pretty intensely heavy. She wanted to beat it so badly. She had Raft Club to look forward to, and acting like she was a Canadian when the next Winter Olympics were going to happen.  In her driveway was a brand new Chevy Camaro she bought, for the following reason. “Why not have it now?”

I wrote her a silly message a few months ago out of the blue because I hadn’t heard from her in a few days:

“HELLO THERE.

I would say that you have a nice ass, but I think we both know better. You have a mean ass. It’s a jerk, really. A jerk ass. 

Well, I was thinking of you and thought I would drop a note to say helloooo. I just got an iPhone 4 and it’s pretty sweet, but you don’t have one so any initial excitement of “Oh boy I can video face time call with Sara!” were ill-advised. 

So instead, print out a photo of me and hold it really close to your face and i’ll do likewise and then we can talk on the phone and it’ll be REAAAAAAL similar, ok? Because my face is not expressive. Ok it is but let’s pretend. You can also print out a picture of Garfield if you want because our love of lasagna is similar (WHICH IS BULL — because I like it way more)

Anyway, tacos are delicious and you are fantastic and I love you bunches and hope you are doing and feeling better.

Yours in Jesus,
Dr. Barnette”

She responded the following morning:

“HI FRENNND!!!!!!

I didn’t get a chance to write you back yesterday, but I want you to know your timing was impeccable. I had been a bit of a gloomy gus all week and found your trash talking my butt while wooing me with mentions of lasagna incredibly uplifting.

Tomorrow at work maybe I will print out a picture of you for this iPhone business, then I will flip a coin about calling before it’s officially Answer The Phone Like Buddy The Elf Day. 

I ate burritos today but you make me think I should have eaten tacos. Have you ever considered starting a cult? 

Really though, thank you for sending this goofy note. It really made my day. I love you back bunches, maybe more than tacos. Definitely more than lasagna.

Hold Me Closer Tony Danza,
Regina Papageorgio”

She had spoken to me at length about depression, which is something I was/am going through and something she’d dealt with in the past, and she also helped coach me out of my two-pack-a-day smoking habit a few years ago with some really sound advice that actually worked and still works to this day.  We talked about all sorts of things all the time, and I think of all the things I will miss most about Sara Cottrell, apart from her ridiculous sense of humor and love of life and general amazingness…it’s selfishly the fact that one of the only people on this planet that ever really understood me, and could get to the bottom of issues with me isn’t there anymore.  Sara was one of the best conversationalists there’s ever been. It’s an overlooked quality, but it’s important for any sort of lasting friendship.

Sara in her Camaro

Sara and her beloved Camaro on her last day at her job.

She’d been online intermittently as of late. I had grown somewhat concerned, but figured with the ebb and flow of good news and bad news that comes from chemotherapy that she was just getting taken care of, and would be back in time.  In the meantime, I lost my job supposedly due to “budget cuts.” I caught her on one night and we talked about that and about her and about how she’d just bought a Camaro because “why not?” and then we got on this website called Turntable.fm that lets you DJ music like you’re in a nightclub.  We had a lot of fun and played a bunch of stupid 80′s music and forgot about all our troubles for a little while. She got tired after a bit and told me she’d be on later that week.

I didn’t see her on at all.

A few days later, I got this message:

“LETS START A NO WORK POSSE. Hay I might be going on disability in the next week or so so we can finally sit around all day and be computer djs. I think the timing will work out well here. Just no djs till noon because I like the sleep.

And no getting a job for like 3 months because then we wouldn’t be a no work posse.”

I didn’t see her online at all after that.

July 28th, 2011 — 1 year and 8 days after she’d told me they found a tumor, she posted on her blog that her doctor had told her she had one of the most aggressive cases of cancer he’d ever seen.

He also told her that remission wasn’t likely at all.

I tried to touch base with her a few times, mostly because I was worried about her frame of mind. I finally saw a chink in her positive cancer armor and the weight of the situation seemed to be bearing down on her. I tried to keep things light, and chided her for ignoring her internet duties. I asked how she was doing, and I got the last message I’d ever receive from Sara.

“Bleh. I am a mutant who lives with her parents now and won’t leave the house because seriously every other pore on my nose is like a can of spray cheese, for real. And my stomach has been hurting for 4 days but I won’t call my doctor because I don’t want to get checked into the hospital again.

But otherwise I’m okay. I know you hate the out of work stuff but disability is wonderful. 

How you kids doing, besides that job stuff? Is it still unbearably warm?

Start applying for jobs up here, we’re having a terrible summer.”

She’d always harassed me about getting a job wherever she lived. Both in Chicago and back in Washington.  It had become just another in a long line of half-serious/half-kidding running jokes that we had.

“We’re having a terrible summer” was the last thing Sara ever said to me.

I messaged her a few times and got no response. I texted her on Friday night, and tried to type “Saaaaaaara” but my iPhone auto-corrected it to say “Sassafras.” I thought it was funny, so I just sent her a text that said “Sassafras, my phone just tried to auto-correct your name to Saaaaaaara.”

No response.

I woke up this morning around 5 a.m., and felt very out of sorts. I grabbed my phone and started checking e-mail, Facebook, etc…and came across Sara’s sister’s message that she left on Sara’s page about her having passed away, surrounded by family, the day before.

I laid in the bed and cried for a good half hour. My wife, who is also friends with Sara, was in shock when I told her.

The jokes, and the messages and the e-mails and the good times we had with Sara Cottrell have entered the stuff of legend. She doesn’t hurt anymore, and I hope she is out there, somewhere, driving her Camaro, laughing because there was no way she was going to be around for the length of the loan.

Her family and friends have lost an outstanding, hilarious, joyful, liver of life. A daughter. A sister. A confidant.

I sit here, and my face hurts from crying, and I will miss a whole lot of things that Sara meant to me.

Mostly, I just miss my friend.

I love you to pieces, Sara Cottrell.

We’re having a terrible summer.

You’re Wrong.

Aug 18

Posted by mattbarnette in Rant Time, Site dispatches | No Comments

 

I keep seeing a lot of people posting the following status update on Facebook:

“Thank you Florida, Kentucky, and Missouri, which are the first states that will require drug testing when applying for welfare. Some people are crying and calling this unconstitutional. How is this unconstitutional? It’s OK to drug test people who WORK for their money but not those who don’t?… Re-post this if you’d like to see this done in all 50 states!”

Sounds pretty awesome, right?! You work your tail off for peanuts and people who don’t shouldn’t get a free ride, should they?! This is America! Make your own way and get a job, you lazy bum!

Maybe it sounds good as a knee jerk reaction. Maybe you haven’t thought it through. Well, considering I’m unemployed, and don’t drink and don’t smoke and don’t do drugs, let me take the side of those in a less fortunate situation. And I DEFY you to say that I am lazy and haven’t earned my way and contributed to society. I made TV shows and you watched them, so if anything, you’re the couch potato.

First off, each welfare applicant has their own unique set of circumstances at the root of their misfortune, so therefore no broad legislation could right the wrongs of the system.  I believe this means that we should, for the time being, accept the shortcomings of the current system and focus our efforts in more effective areas.

Let’s not stop there. If you’re so into drug testing for these lazy good-for-nothing welfare users who are taking advantage of all your hard work, let’s take it further. Shouldn’t all types of public assistance require drug testing?  How would you feel if testing was required for unemployment benefits or social security?  How about those on disability or the parents of Head Start children?  Should they be tested as well?  What about students receiving financial aid, or WIC mothers, or seniors on Medicaid?  Clearly these people could also be abusing the generosity of the American public.

LET’S BE THOROUGH.

You also might not be considering this, but the bank and auto industry bailouts are estimated to be somewhere between 770 billion and 1.2 trillion.  We’re talking tax cuts, grossly profitable contracts, and outright cash payments to big businesses that take that money and a lot of the jobs at those companies and take them overseas.

All that bailout money could have paid the last decade of social welfare and not even one CEO or politician was drug tested. Plus, urinalysis is the only semi-affordable way to drug test on such a large scale and there are a handful ways you can beat that already highly ineffective test. Also, if you think the cost of the drug testing isn’t going to come out of your tax dollars, you are beyond naive.

People applying for state jobs have to pay around 90 bucks out of pocket for this test. Do the math of that cost times however many people are on welfare!

It’s time to come to the realization that salvation doesn’t lie in reforming our tiny offerings to the poor, but by taking back the money that was swindled from us by the wealthy.  Even Warren Buffet agrees with it, as he wrote an op-ed piece last week in the NY Times telling the Government to tax the rich more and take away the tax cuts. The richest 1% of our nation possesses more wealth than the poorest 90% and this gap is growing every day.

Wake the hell up, America, and put your vitriol towards the real issues.

EDIT – 8/21/11: Jon Stewart from the Daily Show pretty much took what I said and ran with it to hilarious effect. Do enjoy.

The Daily Show – World of Class Warfare – The Poor’s Free Ride Is Over
Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

Notes From An All-Day Meeting

Aug 11

Posted by mattbarnette in Meeting Notes, Rant Time | No Comments

I’m cleaning out some files and I just discovered the following, which are notes I made, in order, on Twitter during an “All day Meeting” scheduled from 8:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. for the day of April 12, 2011 at my now ex-job. 

Please, do enjoy. 

  • Walking into a meeting literally scheduled from 7 minutes from now until 5 o’clock. Wish me luck.
  • Powerpoint has the term “A MARKETING PARTNERSHIP.” – Yes, in quotes. So I fully expect them to turn on us. Way to tip your hand, “partners.”
  • 13 minutes in and I have deftly avoided taking 2 business cards. I’m frantically scanning the room for tools to murder myself
  • Oh good, my best friend ever, who is late by the way, and in no way my best friend, took the last seat available! Beside me!    
  • Dear god this is more brutal than Dethklok could ever be.
  • I’m looking around and almost no one else looks like they’re dying inside except for Sally(fake name) who was pretty good at feigning interest for the first few minutes. Respect. 
  • I want to know how some of these people don’t regularly put a gun in their mouth in the mornings. Also someone said “synergy.” Take a shot if you’re playing the at-home game of Corporate Lingo Alcoholic.
  • LAME JOKES + HAHAHA NERVOUS LOUD MEETING LAUGHING. That’s not incredibly awkward or anything.
  • The clock say 10:11 but my internal clock is assuring me that I have literally been here for weeks. 
  • COST ANALYSIS RATIOS AVERAGE GIFTS SATURATE THE MARKET HOLISTIC NEW AGE LISTS SEGMENT TEST VOLUME CORE LIST DEMOGRAPHIC 
  • I have decided that my job has received my services for free this year and that my whole salary is earned by being at this.
  • 15 minute break – quick! Help me cone up with an illness to fake!   I may have to play the three word card that can get you out of anything. Say it with me, folks! I. HAVE. DIARRHEA!
  • I’m glad I realized this guy at our all day meeting had a insulin pump because I was about to start making jokes about him being the Beeper King.
  • Lunch supposedly is at noon. That’s 46 minutes away. Which in all day meeting time is akin to 9 months 14 days. You could have a meeting baby with someone you met in this very meeting. We’ll look back on this like we served in Vietnam together.
  • This meeting is what I imagine scientists or accountants talk about before Ogre kicks in the door and screams NERRRRRRRRDS!!!!
  • Regarding Christian demographics “we haven’t penetrated that market.” Well, of course you haven’t, Sunshine. True Love Waits!
  • This lady presenting has an extremely sunburnt face and I want to believe it’s from projector glow. She’s had her share of all day meetings.
  • This lady presenting has the same problem as the Will Ferrell SNL character who can’t control the loudness of their voice. HUSH LITTLE BABY, GO TO SLEEP.
  • This would be a good point in the all day meeting for a long squealer of a fart. Just saying. No one? Do i have to do everything?
  • I wish they would hire one guy here who just makes sure the air conditioner always works and if it stops working then we get to beat him.
  • At this point I would take a pay cut if i never had to go to a meeting again. I’m not kidding.
  • Someone literally just said our strategy was to “make the most money we can.” Man, I think they’re onto something. He should be a professional business man. 
  • This one guy is drinking catered Tropicana cranberry juice out of a champagne flute instead of the bottle. He’s so fancy.
  • Just asked a question regarding budgets for marketing “Are we going to be taking a metrics based approach or the carnie way of yelling and getting noticed?” and earned five dollars from my friend Sara Cottrell for working the word “carnies” into a question.
  • Baked potatoes and salad for lunch? Man even the all day meeting lunch sucks.
  • Have officially bailed from the all day meeting citing “deadlines.” I just couldn’t do it, gang. 
  • 8:30 a.m. to 12:47 p.m. was how long I lasted. I already hit “decline” on my Outlook calendar invitiation to tomorrow’s meeting. They’ll be fine without me. 

Too Much Time on my Hands

Jul 3

Posted by mattbarnette in Site dispatches | No Comments

Matt Barnette - CEO & President of Free-time

My last day at work.

Suddenly I have an abundance of time for watching The Wire, and reading all the Game of Thrones books, and any of the other countless books and DVD’s stashed around my house that I never quite had time to sit and enjoy.  The fact that I’m typing this at 3:22 a.m. should be an indication that things have changed a lil’ bit. Usually I save this sort of stuff until at least 4 a.m.

But I digress…

While a few weeks of enjoying the entertainment I have amassed over the last several years of being in the workforce will be a nice change of pace, I do want to get back to being a productive member of society. So, if you own a place of business dealing in any aspect of creative, tv/radio, internet, internet marketing, you name it: Contact me! I’m one of the most creative, driven individuals you will ever deal with in a working environment. Plus, I’m sassy.

Until then, I’m going to be cackling at Omar. Email me.

A Letter To My Employer

Mar 11

Posted by mattbarnette in Humor Pieces, Jokes, Site dispatches | No Comments

I feel that there are two modes of thought for those that “toil” away in the world of the gainfully employed. Those that wish to advance, and not necessarily hierarchically, but in a way that drives you to be satisfied creatively. In a way that you are sufficiently confident that you and the team you work with have done what is right, and good, and have done it to the best of your ability and that you’re proud of it. To say, you want what your company is doing to be better. To work smarter. To be right. You see the flaws, and way that things currently are, and you know that there are alternatives, so you bring up the issues at hand and are met by the other mode of worker: The “It’s Fine” crowd. The “Don’t Change Anything” crowd. The Lifers.

If something works to a degree, that doesn’t mean it’s perfect, or even good. Just because you have something out there, doesn’t mean it’s worth anyone’s time. This falls flat in front of the latter.

To some work, is what you do and to some degree you’re defined by it and how proud you are of what you’ve accomplished.

Others are just happy to get a check and barely put in the required effort to do exactly what the boss has said to do (usually with no questions asked, and no challenges to it’s validity), and usually the boss is just doing what his boss said to do without questioning or challenging what they’re wanting.

This brings up the great debate. Should you put your heart into your job, and make it something you want to be proud of even though you’re not going to get what you want 99% of the time? Or just punch-in and punch-out, get your check, and retire at age 65, never to think about the place you worked again.

I feel disconnected from the people I work with, and I don’t know what their motivation is for anything, except abject fear of losing their jobs. Where’s the pride for making a quality experience anymore? Where is the feeling of discovery, and innovation, and knowing that you left it all out there?

Or does that even exist anymore?

It hurts because I care too much. Because I see the potential and no one else will help to make what could happen actually happen.

Good night.

——A letter from Matt to his manager at Dairy Queen, 1997.

Math was always hard for me.

Feb 26

Posted by mattbarnette in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Math was always hard for me, so why does this make so much sense? (An equation by my friend Berit’s kid, David.)

Fat Bottomed Girls Make The Rocking World Go ‘Round

Feb 3

Posted by mattbarnette in Uncategorized | No Comments

I wonder how many nutty pro-America anti-everything-else bigots realize that Dr. Oz is a Muslim? Maybe they give him a pass because he likes big butts and he cannot lie…

Contest

Jan 18

Posted by mattbarnette in Uncategorized | No Comments

Who can tell me what book I was reading in this doctor’s waiting room? The prize is: NOOOOOOOTHING!!!!!!

The Only Cold I Feel Is In My Mouth.

Dec 31

Posted by mattbarnette in Fat Matt Food Post, Site dispatches | No Comments

December 30th,
2010 and it was in the high 50s – which to me is an altogether
foreign experience to not have to wear a coat outside in the last
month of the year. So my wife and I ventured out into the
unreasonably warm and wet city to dodge the people who can’t drive
in the rain (all of them) and who don’t pay attention (most of
them) and eat delicious food.

Basically this whole post is
just a set up for me to show a picture of the scrumptious gelato
offerings at Za-Za pizza and salad in the Heights neighborhood in
Little Rock. I’d been there before-the wife hadn’t. She got the
tandoori chicken salad, I got the Santa fe (loaded with black beans
and caaaaarn) and we both got broccoli and cheese soup and it was
all delicious, but it was all a precursor to the gelato. We stared
at the case, making a Sophie’s Choice level decision on which of
these icy marvels would pass through our lips.

Moments later, sitting in my car, shame eating
the hell out of some gelato we agreed that we’d both made a wise
decision.

The choices were: Pistachio,
strawberry/banana yogurt, chocolate mint, dulce de leche, tiramisu,
cookies and creme.

Which one would you have
picked? Reply in the comments!

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Neon Horses

Dec 13

Posted by mattbarnette in Site dispatches | 2 Comments

I worked for a sign company (Sign Masters, lol) for about four or five months back when I was Fifteen. In that time I screwed up things that you had one shot to paint, made huge bubbles in tons of vinyl appliqués, and shoved a nail straight in one side of my foot and out the other while breaking down boxes and crates (destruction being the one strength I brought to the Sign Masters’ table.)

Anyway, regardless of my lack of skill in making signs, I can still appreciate the skill and craftsmanship that goes into making good ones. Flying Fish co. In downtown Little Rock has an example of just that. Great design, flawless execution.

Oh hey, and there’s a horse standing on the street, too! (That I somehow didn’t even see until looking at this picture much later.)

Anyway, Buddy Follis, sorry for sucking at making signs. I know you were just doing my Dad a favor by having me work there after school, but it was one of my first jobs and I didn’t quite “get it” at the time. I hope the fact that I didn’t cash my last paycheck out of abject shame somehow made up for how terrible I was.

Who am I kidding? Like he would have noticed $9.87. I could’ve bought a new Meat Puppets tape.

This post is now about Missed Opportunities.

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