Ken Wheaton's Blog, page 9

It’s a Major Award!

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Last Friday, the annual Jesse H. Neal Awards Ceremony was held in Manhattan. According to the folks who run the awards, the Neals “are the most prestigious editorial honors in the field of specialized journalism.” I always describe it as the Oscars of B2B journalism.

I wasn’t there last Friday. I don’t work at Ad Age any longer and while the Ad Age family was kind enough to invite me to the ceremony, Cara and I were on our way to Philadelphia. Thankfully, you don’t have to be present to win....

Another Day in Iceland: Geysirs, Horses, Tourists

[image error]Our third day in Iceland got off to an inauspicious start. Where we’d had rather roomy mini-buses — and a few empty seats — for our excursions up until then, the one that picked us up on Sunday morning for a tour of The Golden Circle had been built for school children. I’m only 5’6″, so this typically isn’t the biggest issue for me. But Cara is a little taller. And everyone in this micro bus was wearing two or three additional layers of clothing and carrying a backpack of some sort. There wer...

Mike Pence: I Only Dine With Mother

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I obviously can’t draw Mike Pence. 

Just imagine that little shadow in the window saying: “No! I tell you no! I won’t have you bringing some young girl in for supper! By candlelight, I suppose, in the cheap, erotic fashion of young men with cheap, erotic minds!”

Reading/Book Signing in Atlanta: April 6

[image error]I’d say pardon the self-promotion, but if you think a blog isn’t anything other than nonstop self-promotion, you’re delusional. But anyway, some undisguised self-promotion:

The good folks at the SCAD in Atlanta have invited me down to talk to a couple of classes and do a reading. So if you’re in the Atlanta area or simply feel like flying to Atlanta to listen to me jibber-jabber, come on down!

The reading will be Thursday, April 6 at 6:30 p.m. It will be held at Ivy Hall.

Here’s a link to the...

Iceland: Toast, Sunglasses, Death by Glacier

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Toast. It’s likely the first word you think of when you think of Iceland.

No. That’s not right. I imagine ice is the first word, with volcano and Bjork tied for second.

Our second day in Iceland started with toast. I don’t eat toast much at home anymore. I’m either trying to do away with carbs or swinging wildly in the other direction and wrapping a buttery croissant around bacon, eggs and cheese.  (Check out Day 1 here.)

But in Iceland, we started our mornings with toast. IcelandAir Marina...

The Perfect Boiled Egg (in an Instant Pot)

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A quick note: If you came here via search, you don’t need four thousand words about how and why I came to own an Instant Pot and how fucking amazing it is (it’s amazing). You also don’t need three thousand words on the history or science behind boiling eggs.

No.

You a) have an Instant Pot and b) are sick as hell of boiled eggs that are undercooked, overcooked or — worst of all — shredding to pieces when you peel them. You’ve tried every “hack” there is in a regular pot. Screw that. Try this...

Iceland: Went There, Did Some Things

[image error]It was on the second day in Iceland that I realized I should have been careful about over-excursion. Oh, sure, there was a small element of over-exertion. But as our Extreme Iceland van was still half an hour from Reykjavik at 8:45 p.m. and most restaurants in town — particularly those around our hotel — closed at 10, I thought maybe I had over-scheduled us.

We’d arrived at 7 a.m. the previous morning and blew through Customs (they’d get us on the way out), snagged an early check-in, went out...

A Taste of Success in NYC Poboy Hunt

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After making like a stunted tree and throwing a tiny bit of shade at the New York City poboy scene in the last post, I was told by Lisa “The Homesick Texan” Fain to get myself to Cheeky Sandwiches on the Lower East Side.

Ugh. Manhattan. Double Ugh. The Lower East Side. I spent enough time getting drunk off a shitty beer and watching hipsters do blow in skeevy bathrooms when I was younger. Also, it always strikes me as a pain in the ass to get to. And for what? To be disappointed? Again?

But...

Gumbo Bros: Good Enough for New Yorkers

Short Version: If you’re a New Yorker or otherwise not from or familiar with South Louisiana food, go. You’ll like it. If you are from South Louisiana, you’ve been warned.

The Gumbo Bros: 224 Atlantic Avenue, Brooklyn

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I’d recently received a number of suggestions from New Yorkers to go check out a new place in Brooklyn called Gumbo Bros., a small shop that serves gumbo and poboys.

To my knowledge, New York has never had a legitimate Cajun restaurant. It’s 2017 and that hasn’t changed. The cl...

No Stars for You: Confessions of a Super-Bowl Ad Critic

[image error]The Super Bowl is weird this year. It’s not that I couldn’t care any less about the Atlanta Falcons vs the New England Patriots. I watched the Panthers vs the Patriots in 2004, so I guess I’ll watch this.

But this is the first time in 16 years that I haven’t spent the three weeks leading up to the Super Bowl hyperventilating about the Super Bowl commercials. You see, I used to review Super Bowl ads. Some critics review movies and books. I reviewed incredibly expensive commercials.

Until Decem...