Sign of the times

Spotted this guy working outside Next Neon, one of Abu Dhabi premier sign makers. He was putting the finishing touches to an M, but my friend Nick pointed out it could also be an E or even a W if it wanted to. That made me reflect on just how versatile this humble letter M is. It’s the kind of letter we need during these tough economic times. Able to multi task, turn its hand to many … positions. Trust me folks. This is the kind of letter that is going to see us through the tough times and back into the sunshine. Letter M. I salute you.

I'm a big fan

In the ad game you often get tasked with coming up with names for products. Maybe that's why this fan caught my eye. It dominates the ceiling in one of Abu Dhabi's new trendy bars called the Yacht Club, where Lebanese ladies meet to see who has the biggest shiniest handbag.
It's a big fan. A really big fan. In one of those crap hollywood b grade horror films, this is the fan that would be going at the high school prom and the phyco would set the speed to 10 and there would be lots of fast cuts between the teenagers having fun on the dance floor and the fan shaking loose and then it would drop and there would a shot of a wall getting sprayed in blood as 30 kids were decapitated.
So what do name a company that makes really really big fans. Sometimes, the first idea that pops into your head is the right one.

Coldplay and rubbish bags in Abu Dhabi.

Top performance by Cold Play in the grounds of the 7 star Emirates Palace last night. Dug the surreal lightening display that went on throughout the gig. Guess it was Gods way of saying, ‘Stuff Earth Hour I don’t turn my lights off for no one.’ Unfortunately with the lightening came rain. I don’t mind rain at an outdoor gig especially in the Middle East because it’s warm rain. It’s warm like the water the hairdresser uses to wash your hair. You know how they hold the little nozzle under their hand till the temp is just perfect and then they start washing? In the Middle East the rain god does the same thing before he dumps a deluge on you. Millions of little drops of urine temperature water plopping down on you. Back in the 90’s at the one-day cricket at Eden Park, before they banned booze sales in the second innings, you did used to feel the same thing, except it was drops of urine falling out of the sky. Well, out of the cups of the guy’s 12 rows back.
No, I don’t mind rain but some people do. They mind it so much in fact that they would rather wear rubbish bags than get wet. Who started that retarded trend? Which genius decided to cut holes for arms and head and throw on a plastic bag? Probably a pissed guy who was trying to dress up as a homeless guy for a joke. But it caught on! Do concert goers read the weather report and think ‘Might be chance of rain. Better put a giant rubbish bag in my pocket? The Cold Play concert was carbon neutral apparently. I guess the thousands of rubbish bags on their way to the landfill today don’t count.
Great gig from a top band but the sound seemed a bit crap for a while. There was this staticky hiss in the air. Then I realized it was the sound of hundreds of rubbish bag wearing plonkers rustling in time to the songs.

The UAE. Life in the fast lane

This is a weird place. It is like a nation on steroids. Well, oil actually. Everything happens in a hurry here. Prices and buildings go up faster than anywhere else in the world and the speed thing transfers onto the roads too.
You know how in a normal country if it starts raining, people slow down a bit? Not here. Rain just means people want to get where they are going faster. Fog is a similar story. A Lebonese mate of mine who is a speed nut explained why he drove home at night in thick fog at over 170 K’s in the fastlane. He said if he went any slower he risked being run into from behind by a speeding car…I’ve already picked out the black shirt for his funeral.
The main drag between Dubai and Abu Dhabi is almost as dangerous as the road from Baghdad airport. The speed limit in the UAE seems to be a rough guide only. Or that’s how everyone treats it.
So I’m barreling along at 160 in my little rental car, thinking I am truckin and suddenly a large white four by four screams into the rear view mirror with his lights flashing, which is the Emirate sign for ‘get out of my way, my Lexus is 2 months old and I have to get to the dealer and trade it in’.
The speeding local races past and as I watch him ripping up the fast lane with his chunky tread at 180, I think to myself, there goes an impatient driver…until, a few seconds later, he is overtaken on the outside, on that spare bit of road between the lane marking and the crash barrier, by a guy in another 4x4 going about 215.
This is a typical drive from Abu to Dubai, so it’s no surprise that like their buildings and indoor ski fields, when the Emeraties have a car crash, they make it the biggest in the world.
Cars only burst into flames in crashes, in two places. The movies and the UAE. It happens all the time, but this morning’s bash and burn was big, even by UAE standards. Over 200 cars. Here’s a link taken by some rubber neckers a few hours after the carnage. ff to around the 6 min mark to see the real wrecks.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j-RbMT5DJpY

Brewery bollocks and dorks in town.

Imagine a brewery going to a town and setting up bars in a couple of suburbs and supplying all the people who lived there, with so much free beer that it created alcoholics a huge rise in crime and domestic disturbances and generally destroyed those neighborhoods.
Then, just before the head of the brewery retires from his job, he flies into the town and visits a different suburb that he has been supplying tons of beer to for even longer. As a result this area has suffered from many similar booze related problems and is generally seen by the rest of the world as a bit of a mess.
But the purpose of the Brewery bosses trip to this suburb he tells anyone that will listen, is to try and help them get rid of their bars. To stop the supply of beer and help deal with the drunks.
Wouldn’t that seem a bit odd?

That’s the analogy I’ve cooked up with after seeing George Bush bleat on and on about his trip to the middle east and hope for peace in Israel on telly.

He’s coming to my town tomorrow. Last time I saw George W was in Rome in June. We were both there for one day, on the same day. He probably wont remember me. But George, if you do read this, I was the tattooed guy with the black t shit on, who gave you the finger as you raced past in your super duper bullet and bomb proof limo.
I imagine he’s packed the same set of wheels for this trip.
By the way George, the reason I flicked you the bird as you went past, wasn’t because you rode into power on the coat tails of your old man and stole the election, with the help of your brother Jed in Florida, who I assume is being groomed to keep the dynasty going.
It wasn’t because you and the dodgy old men who pull your strings, used the 911 tragedy to fulfill an agenda in Iraq that had already been planned. Or that your invasion was so poorly thought out, so badly run, by men with no military experience, who refused to listen to those with military experience, that an already dangerous situation was made thousands of times worse. Like the disbanding of the Iraqi police and army, against the advice of experts on the ground in Iraq, who predicted, quite rightly that this would simply drive those unemployed and hungry men to the insurgency.
It wasn’t because of the fact that despite all the evidence of the insurgency and civil war happening in Iraq, you continued to bullshit the American people for months, until it was so obvious that even you realized you couldn’t get away with the denial anymore.
Or the fact that because, in large part, due to your actions, America is disliked on the international stage far more now than when you came to power.
It also wasn’t because of the fact that while you have been happy to take the war to the terrorists overseas (although you haven’t caught the main ones you went after) your people at home. The ones you are supposed to care about, are worse off than ever and now facing a recession and a record deficit.
It wasn’t really any of these things on that particular hot summers day in Rome George.
All those things piss me off no end, but that day it was because of the massive security triggered by your visit. Security that is required because of how hugely unpopular you are. Security that meant there were no taxis in town.
That meant we had to walk for 2 hours to get back to our hotel and for most of that I had to carry my daughter on my shoulders.
That pissed me off George. So don’t even think about giving me a call when you’re in town.

Do you know how to test-drive a bar?

I took a bar for a test drive last night. The Level Lounge. It is opening on the roof of the hotel she works for here in Abu Dhabi. It has no roof so I suggested they use the line ‘Abu Dhabi’s first topless bar,’ but no one thought that was a good idea.
Being in advertising I get to trial new products all the time. Once I did a photo shoot with a brand new Jag. It wasn’t really a trial of the product I was just supposed to drive it to the shoot in the morning but I took it to Hamilton and back just to see what it could do… over 145 kmh as it turns out. Test-driving a bar is more fun because essentially you are just out drinking, but it is free. But it’s not all free booze and bulshit… well it is mostly, but there are some tests you have put the bar through. For instance, I put my beer bottle down directly on the bar top and not on the coaster. But this infringement was spotted within the international standard of 8 sec and the offending bottle was placed back on the coaster by a staff member.
International bar rules dictate that after ordering the same drink from the same bar tender or waitress 4 times they should know it without being told. The staff at the level lounge had me figured within 2 drinks, but just to make sure I had to order more than 4 drinks from every staff member and there were a lot of staff. Happy to say they all passed with flying colors. Last night was what my wife called ‘the soft launch’ when she told me that I was worried that they would only be serving soft drinks but they didn’t. Tonight is what my wife calls the ‘VIP Launch’. If my wife thinks I am going to put up with another night sitting on the roof of a hotel on shiny new beanbags drinking free booze and listening to good beats then she is spot on. Not because of the free booze but because I support her 100%, and if that means testing things out for her then I am up for it. Anything but her cooking.