I Could Be The Next Bachelor...except
Straight to you from my GMail inbox this morning:
Dear Justin ,
ABC Television's hit reality television show, The Bachelor, is searching for its next star. After viewing your profile on LinkedIn, the casting producer has selected you as a potential candidate.
ABC is using LinkedIn to find its next Bachelor because this time around, they're looking for an accomplished professional. LinkedIn is about your professional life instead of your personal life, so we don't know if your marital or relationship status qualifies you for the show. However, your professional profile fits the bill.
If you think you'd make a great Bachelor, please let me know by reply (xxxxxxx@xxxxxx.com) and I will contact you regarding next steps. LinkedIn respects your privacy and will not release your contact information, so you must reply to the email above for us to pass you along as a candidate.
If you know anyone else that would make a great Bachelor, feel free to let us know
about them. ABC will pay a $5,000 reward for any referral that leads to the
next star.
Wishing you continued professional
success,
XXXXX XXXXXX
Assistant to the CEO LinkedIn
Sorry ladies, but GSully and the three amigos take me out of the running. Here's a link to my winning profile:
http://www.linkedin.com/in/justinsullivan.
Out here in Steeler Nation...Houston, TX
You have new Picture Mail!
Originally uploaded by justinsullivan.Thursday Spetember 7 rolled around and I find myself on the road in Houston, TX doing voice overs for Computer Based Spend Management Training. (If Sully's Stuff ever launches a pod cast, you will learn that he's no Don Pardo). That means I had to get out of my hotel room into Steeler Nation to see the kick off. I suspect that scenes like this played out in Steelers Bars accross the country:
I went to SRO in NW Houston and arrived around 7 PM (Houston is in the Central time zone), and found a few fans already gathering and a poker tournament kicking off. Is there anything more ironic than a cue ball bald man in a Troy Polamalu jersey?
As we got closer to game time, the crowd really began to build, mostly with Steelers fans. There was the Steeler family, a husband, wife and 2 boys, that arrived wearing black jerseys that proceeded to spread out their Steelers table cloth and decorate their personal space.
Pittsburgh looked great -- LOVED the spotlights along the bridges and rivers, can't wait to get home tomorrow.
Jersey's on the scene included several Polamalus and Roethlisbergers, 1 Joey Porter, 1 Willie Parker (which also happened to be the only white Steelers jersey, a Jerome Bettis and a drumroll please....Kordell Stewart. My Kevin Greene jersey was hung in my closet at home. I almost forgot the one lonely Dolphin fan in the Zach Thomas (of the Parma Texas Thomas') jersey.
The most colorful fan was a woman that sat in front of me and smoked Art Rooney's cigar for the entire first half, and 46 seconds into the 2nd quarter when the Steelers scored their first Touchdown, the first chant of Here We Go Steelers erupted.
The stars at night are big and bright, deep in the heart of Steeler Country.
Thank You For Including Me
Thank you to Peter Leo for including me in
yesterday's Morning File tribute to Mayor Bob O'Connor in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.
The Bob O'Connor I'll Remember
Out of thousands that had personal connection to Bob O'Connor, the Pittsburgh Mayor that lost a brief battle with brain cancer last Friday, mine is near the bottom, but this is how I will remember him.
During the summer's of 1994 and 1995 I worked as a ranger at Schenley Park Golf Course (my Caddyshack phase). On many summer afternoons as the sun would begin to set to a golden twilight, one of Pittsburgh's City Councilman would pull up to the course with his youngest son and quietly they would practice together in front of the clubhouse on the putting green. They enjoyed the game, and they enjoyed each other.
Now 12 years later, with young children of my own, it is that memory, far quieter and more personal than many, that I've been reflecting on. A memory that somehow taught a 21 year-old kid who was concentrating mostly on which bar he was going to that night a little bit about being a good dad. When I read in the paper that his
funeral procession would pass the golf course, I knew that somebody else remembered that too.
