Davezillion aka Davezillion.com is a local New York City startup, sort of like Craigslist. Davezillion is a free community on the Internet that helps connect people to assist each other with household projects like painting, landscaping, or simple installations. Everyone has had that moment where they just needed a little help but did not know where to get it. Davezillion, the first and only online community dedicated to linking people to get stuff done, solves that problem. According to the web site their mission is “to help people accomplish these important tasks so we can live more comfortably and enjoy our free time, while building a sense of community and partnership among users." As for the company's mantra, “the best way to get someone to help you with one of your projects is to help someone with their own." In these economic times, a company like this is invaluable.
On the same day Davezillion is finally getting the public attention and recognition they deserve, a similar, community-based startup in California has decided to go public. Potrillion is an increasingly popular online resource for stoners around the world who are also struggling through our recent recession. Most stoners have had many moments when they've needed a little help - a pipe, a bong, some papers, maybe even a little "nug," - and they either don't know where to get it or are entirely unmotivated to look. Potrillion offers these customers free and easy access to a large web-based community of similarly unmotivated people who are compelled by apathy to share their resources.
In an exclusive interview with their company's CEO, investigative reporter Amari B Fishman learned that Potrillion's mission is similar to Davezillion in that they want "to help people enjoy their free time and build a partnership amongst users." The site is brilliantly and very colorfully designed, and people can submit "ads" according to their have's and have not's - be it weed, paraphernalia, or just really good snacks. As for Potrillion's company mantra, they claim "the best way to ensure having a delicious sandwich in the future is to make somebody a delicious sandwich today."
Potrillion's announcement to go public was no coincidence. Although they offer completely different resources to their customers, many argue that Potrillion is Davezillion's biggest competitor. "Not only do they encourage drug use," said an anonymous Davezillion employee, "they also discourage household projects. Or any projects for that matter. They're the worst possible thing that could happen to Davezillion. They're the worst thing that could happen to this planet."
When asked by Amari B to respond to these incendiary remarks, co-founders of Potrillion responded in unison, "We should have a dope-a-thon and raise money for people like that."
Amari B with Potrillion Co-Founders Cheech and Chong
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When she's not off investigating the latest Internet craze, Amari B is home with us, trying her very best to go from crawling and standing to actually walking. Her latest attempts have had her standing, as though frozen in time for just a moment, before gravity pulls her butt to the ground with an un-triumphant thud. She doesn't cry anymore - probably because Carrie and I burst into cheers and applause, which distracts Amari into thinking it's clapping time again. With a happy albeit puzzled look on her face she gives herself a brief round applause and returns to climbing up on whatever or whomever is nearby.
Speaking of applause, my new favorite thing Amari does is breaking into spontaneous applause whenever something exciting happens during the Giants game. She can be across the room with her back to the TV, but when there's enough action to get the crowd going, Amari - much like Pavlov's dog - will join in their celebration. My next goal is to teach her the difference between home and road games, so she can stop cheering on the opposition. Who knows - if I play my cards right "Booo Dodgers" will be her first words.
Today is the four year death-a-versary of my mom passing away. I don't celebrate days like today, nor would I have even thought about it had it not been for a phone call from my sister. Bekka was more connected with my mother towards the end of her life, and she's also more connected emotionally. It's not that I'm totally unfeeling, it's just that I'm uninterested in revisiting the painful parts of my life. Some therapist, eh? I guess it's true that those who can't - teach. Do I miss my mom? Sure I do. Do I wish Amari could have met her, could have had another grandmother, could have seen where so much of who I am came from? Absolutely. Do I want to think about the loss of all those possibilities every September 5th? Not really.
That's just me. I think about my mom all the time. I have pictures strewn about the house. I see her in myself and I like to imagine that there will be genetically transmitted personality traits that will one day emerge in Amari. When my sister and I talk about it, we meet in the middle. Sometimes I just listen as she gets emotional, quoting my mom's sarcasm in saying that she'd better feel sorry for herself because nobody else is going to. That was a go to line for my mom along with "Well, honey bun, life isn't fair." Other times, like today when I realized the fifth had only just begun, we can joke about it. "Oh good," I said, "I still have fifteen hours to feel sorry for myself. You know I never like to let an opportunity for sadness pass me by."
We all process things differently...
When she's not off investigating the latest Internet craze, Amari B is home with us, trying her very best to go from crawling and standing to actually walking. Her latest attempts have had her standing, as though frozen in time for just a moment, before gravity pulls her butt to the ground with an un-triumphant thud. She doesn't cry anymore - probably because Carrie and I burst into cheers and applause, which distracts Amari into thinking it's clapping time again. With a happy albeit puzzled look on her face she gives herself a brief round applause and returns to climbing up on whatever or whomever is nearby.
Speaking of applause, my new favorite thing Amari does is breaking into spontaneous applause whenever something exciting happens during the Giants game. She can be across the room with her back to the TV, but when there's enough action to get the crowd going, Amari - much like Pavlov's dog - will join in their celebration. My next goal is to teach her the difference between home and road games, so she can stop cheering on the opposition. Who knows - if I play my cards right "Booo Dodgers" will be her first words.
Today is the four year death-a-versary of my mom passing away. I don't celebrate days like today, nor would I have even thought about it had it not been for a phone call from my sister. Bekka was more connected with my mother towards the end of her life, and she's also more connected emotionally. It's not that I'm totally unfeeling, it's just that I'm uninterested in revisiting the painful parts of my life. Some therapist, eh? I guess it's true that those who can't - teach. Do I miss my mom? Sure I do. Do I wish Amari could have met her, could have had another grandmother, could have seen where so much of who I am came from? Absolutely. Do I want to think about the loss of all those possibilities every September 5th? Not really.
That's just me. I think about my mom all the time. I have pictures strewn about the house. I see her in myself and I like to imagine that there will be genetically transmitted personality traits that will one day emerge in Amari. When my sister and I talk about it, we meet in the middle. Sometimes I just listen as she gets emotional, quoting my mom's sarcasm in saying that she'd better feel sorry for herself because nobody else is going to. That was a go to line for my mom along with "Well, honey bun, life isn't fair." Other times, like today when I realized the fifth had only just begun, we can joke about it. "Oh good," I said, "I still have fifteen hours to feel sorry for myself. You know I never like to let an opportunity for sadness pass me by."
We all process things differently...
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