A Magazine Editor's Pet Peeves

As I get older, I find myself letting go a lot easier. I don't get mad so quickly and for so long.

But, as an editor, there are some things I feel I will never understand. Here's my list of pet peeves from years in the magazine publishing business.

Pet Peeve #1. Photographers asking how many photos we plan to print prior to shooting

Listen, I get it. You don't want to waste your time shooting memory card after memory card if we're only going to print a handful of shots. I don't want to waste your time either. I don't pay you enough to waste your time. But asking me how many photos I plan on using is basically saying, "What's the minimum numbers photos I need to shoot and submit for the story?" or "How little do I have to work to get this job done?" In fairness, I don't know how many photos we are going to print. If the shots are amazing and I have enough pages, I'm going to utilize as many photos as possible; but if I get my pages slashed or the photos don't come out as well as we hope, then I can't accommodate too many photos. Bottom line: I don't know the answer until I receive all the shots, and the more amazing ones that get submitted, the more likely I am to print a large quantity.

Pet Peeve #2. Photographers asking if they only need to shoot a vertical or horizontal shot

Yes, I do try to understand this as well. Setting up a vertical shot versus a horizontal one are two different things and require two different set ups of lights, etc., and time. But this pet peeve kind of goes back to pet peeve #1 and the minimal amount of effort put into an assignment. And, again, I don't know ahead of time if I'm going to print a vertical or horizontal.

Pet Peeve #3. Photographers telling me shooting XYZ is not possible

Show me it's not possible, that's all I ask. If my shot list for a story on marine life includes photographing a dolphin at the local aquarium and the dolphin no longer is housed there, just take a quick shot from your phone to physically show me the animal isn't there anymore. I'm not there, so I don't know that Snowflake isn't there today. Telling me something isn't possible could be interpreted as "I don't feel like doing it."

Pet Peeve #4. Not getting off the hook for a typo when writing an e-mail

Again, I get it. If you're a professional surgeon operating on me or my family members, I don't expect you to mess up. But comparing surgery to misspelling a word or two in an e-mail (or my blog) is definitely an apples-to-oranges comparison. Sometimes I think people are proud when they find a typo or mistake in my e-mails/blogs. It's like, "Ah-ha! A mistake! Let me point it out, highlight it and point it out to her and everyone else." Undoubtedly I should be held to a higher standard when it comes to writing; but I'm human and I make mistakes. Just like everyone else, I write e-mails quickly and usually as I'm doing 53 other things. I hate making mistakes and being careless - it's just bad practice and sloppy. And when it comes to e-mails and blogs, I try to proofread them, but sometimes I don't catch my own error upon my quick read-through. I don't expect Kobe to make every single shot, don't expect Greg Jennings to catch every ball, definitely don't think Phil's going to sink every putt, and don't think Nadal's never going to commit an unforced error.

Pet Peeve #5. Not knowing the facts about our magazine before you call or e-mail

Once, a PR consultant thought our magazine was based in Titusville... 200 miles north of where we actually are located. Another time, someone called our magazine a rival mag's name, thinking we were the same company. Um, no.

Pet Peeve #6. Writers not willing to re-research or rewrite a story.

Let's be honest: Writers have egos. I'm a writer, and I sure as hell have an ego. But I'm also an editor so I see a story a different way than a typical writer would. I'm willing to work with you if you're willing to work with me. I come at it from a third-person approach and studying loads of awesome narratives. I really enjoy language, syntax, a writer's voice and style. So if I'm asking you to rewrite one of your pieces, it's because I'm just trying to push you to find your voice or to get better clarity on a sentence or two. It's not because I want you to rewrite just to rewrite. Surprisingly there's a method to my madness. Not much method, but some.

Pet Peeve #7. Editors trashing other magazines

Seriously? There's a lot that goes into putting a magazine together, and trashing other magazines about their work and product is just not cool. First off, it's all subjective. What I might think is great, someone else might not. It's like a hair stylist trashing another stylist's work. There are just some no-no's in the business, and being rude about another publication's quality and work is one of them.

In Heaven There Is No Beer

Beer and I have been long-time adversaries. I don't like it, and it doesn't like me. My college days at the University of Florida underlined that message well. I've always been jealous of my friends who could gulp down beer like a parched marathoner devouring water at mile marker 22. My friend Ed is 6'3'', maybe 175 lb, and can down a 12-pack of Heineken in a couple of hours and come out looking like he only drank water. I was even in Ireland last year for about a week and could only force myself to have one pint of Guinness that entire trip. Freshman year everybody said "You'll grow to like beer." Bull crap.

So it's all the more amusing I decided to soak myself in it, wash my body and hair with it, and exfoliate with beer (not in that order) this past Friday. I was allowed to enjoy St. Patty's Day, a holiday I rarely celebrate due to my adversarial relationship with beer, a little early with a - get this - spa beer treatment. I indulged in an uber-unique, uber-luxurious and uber-relaxing beer treatment at, believe it or not, a five-star spa. Surprised as I was that a joint like the Spa Atlantic is drenching its chic guests with beer? I mean, not even drenching their guest, bathing them in beer. Literally.

Located inside the swanky boutique hotel, The Atlantic Resort & Spa, I was face-to-face with my foe, my nemesis: beer. With the spa undergoing a bit of a revamp with new spa director Kim DeOrsey (who's transformed spas like PGA National Resort & Spa, the Westin Diplomat and Mar-a-Lago) at its helm since November, ideas like enjoying a beer bath came rather organically. Introduced in September 2010, DeOrsey said the spa averages about five of these beer treatments a week.

The spa offered two beer treatments, the Citrus Suds Body Treatment and the Better Beer Cocoon (both $222 for 80 minutes). I was indulged with the latter.

Gwen, a spa professional with more than 25 years being a licensed therapist and aesthetician, was my therapist and was well versed in the benefits of beer beyond its use during Super Bowl parties.

"It's been used for years in Turkey, Russian and South America," she said. "The antioxidant qualities in beer are good for the skin and hair."

So there I was, me and beer. Like a clever marketing ploy that gets kids to eat cereal with a cartoon Tony the Tiger smiling on it, the beer she was using even had a friendly looking cartoon bee buzzing on its label, welcoming me to enjoy it. Gwen used a brand called Orange Blossom Beer, a beer native to Florida, in my spa treatment ("It's not like it's a Bud Light we're using," she joked.).

She laced the exfoliating scrub with beer and then wrapped me in a heated cocoon for about 10 minutes. While I was wrapped up, Gwen mixed more beer with a hair conditioner, ultimately leaving my hair super-shiny. I then soaked myself in a tub filled with beer, water and citrus slices. After lying in the stainless-steel tub for about 10 minutes, I got out, patted myself dry, and Gwen proceeded to lather me up with a beautiful citrus body butter. Oh, and if you're wondering, Orange Blossom Beer has an an alcohol by volume of 5.5%.

The overall experience was magnificent and well worth me facing my adversary. But I really didn't expect anything except magnificence at the Spa Atlantic, easily one of my favorite spas in the Fort Lauderdale area. It was such a unique experience that I doubt too many other spas can execute this procedure that well yet still highlight the essence of beer itself.

But did it get me to convert to being a beer drinker? Jury's still out on that one.

Catching air in Key West

A message to all jet ski riders out there: Watch out, Jennifer Tormo is on the waters.

This past weekend my fellow editor Jenn and I went to Key West for our friend Suzanne's destination wedding. What we'd do three hours before the wedding, before we got dolled-up for the black-tie affair? Circumnavigated Key West on a jet ski, of course.

Being Jenn's first trip ever on a jet ski, we had to get her to drive it. Mind you, Jenn drives a 2010 red Mustang, so she's used to speed. And, that's where the fun began.

We rode together on a dual rider, and all I can say is I now know how Rash, Zitz and Pimple felt. Remember those names? Yes, Battletoads characters from the good ol' Nintendo. Check out the screen shot below. Yes, that's how I felt while cruising shotgun in Key West.

Looking at the speedometer, we got up to 57 mph. And the only thing going through my mind as we caught air was how am I going to throw my legs in the air like the Battletoads while still holding on to the jet ski?

Oh, and being Jenn's first ride on a jet ski, she did pretty good. Good enough for me to let her borrow my Wayfarers.

The Ringers

Ah, what could have been. I've thought about the what ifs in life over and over again. Like, what if I had Dan Marino and Ronnie Brown on my flag football team? What if, indeed...

As it happens, I've run into these pro athletes and a few more during my years in South Florida. And yes, I have little shame when it comes to asking them to lend me their talents, their 4.40 speed (well, maybe not Marino) every Thursday night for one hour. I mean, is that too much to ask? Here's a recap of who I've asked and what they've had to say.

Offer #1: Ronnie Brown, Pro Bowl running back for the Miami Dolphins

How the negotiations went: I was actually interviewing Ronnie for an article for the magazine I work at. Toward the end of the interview, I managed to casually slip a "oh by the way, I play flag football."

His response: "Ah, man, I don't think I can. You know, contracts and all." First off, Ronnie Brown has to be one of the nicest people on the planet, and I can tell saying "no" is very hard for him to do anyways. Second, he didn't actually say no... I'm still holding out, Ronnie.

Offer #2: Yatil Green, wide receiver and former first-round draft pick of the Miami Dolphins

How the negotiations went: I was actually in Orlando at a conference when I ran into Yatil. He thought I looked familiar, thought I went to school with him. I actually had no idea who who this guy was, much less a very hyped college receiver. "What school did you go to?" I asked. Miami, he said. "Nah, I didn't go to Miami, I went to UF," I told him. "But that's cool you went to Miami." (Note: I was just being friendly to a stranger. It is NOT cool if you went to the University of Miami. I'm just sayin'...) Then he said, "Yeah, I used to play ball down here." My response, "Oh, you played basketball?" "No, football," he said. "Football?!" I asked. "Well, do you want to play co-ed flag football with me?"

His response: "I wish I could, but my knees are all torn up." Turns out it was a good decline for our flag football team. I later found out how troubled Yatil's knees were and how they basically ended his football career.

Offer #3: Dan Marino, pro bowler and former NFL MVP

How the negotiations went: I was at a gala honoring Wayne Huizenga this past fall and was waiting patiently in line at the bar. Dan the Man saunters up (presumably to cut in line), and he stands right next to me for a solid five seconds. Then, well, out gushes my praise of him. I told him I grew up watching him and O.J. McDuffie, growing up in Jacksonville, Fla., he and the Dolphins were my team as a kid, I told him that I attribute everything I know about football to him. And of course the inevitable question of, "Hey, will you play flag football with us? came up.

His response: "Well, I can't really run around anymore. My knees don't work the same way." Much like Ronnie Brown, Dan the Man didn't say no. I'm still waiting for an answer, Dan...

Offer #4: Louis Oliver, owner of the 103-yard pick-6 against Jim Kelly

How the negotiations went: My friends were playing in a friendly flag football tourney at Sunlife Stadium in which each team had a former NFL player coach them. My friends' coach was - you guessed it - Louis Oliver. So, I'm hanging on the sidelines, just chilling, when the idea strikes me to ask Louis to play on our team. "So, what do you normally do on Thursdays?" I ask.

His response: "Yeah, maybe. I mean, I gotta see." Again, he didn't say no...

Offer #5: Channing Crowder, University of Florida great and Dolphin linebacker (pictured with Chicago Bears safety Major Wright and Miami Dolphins receiver Davone Bess)

How the negotiations went: I was at an opening of the uber-awesome Dos Caminos restaurant last week in Fort Lauderdale, when it was as if the seas parted and Channing Crowder's dreads came into perfect view. It must be stated I'm a huge Channing Crowder fan. Think what you may of his antics, I love the way he plays, and I love how he's just plain emotional.

His response: "I'm not that good at pulling flags, though!"

All in all, I'd have a sick flag football team if I could have somehow made those offers more meaningful. As they say in sports, there's always next season.

Fashion show

South Florida has a its own version of Carolina Herrera. Last Friday night I went to a fashion show put on by Victoria Castro Lopez that benefited the American Red Cross South Florida. Here are some blurry snapshots of some of the looks from her spring/summer collection as well as a peek at her fall line.

.

'I Need More Love'

There are good concerts, and then there are memorable ones. I've been to a fair number of concerts in my lifetime (probably close to 100 or so of all varieties -- rock, jazz, classical, blues -- but easily one of the top three concerts I've ever been in attendance of happened about six years ago. There they were: Robert Randolph and the Family Band.

I was a student at the University of Florida. I had heard of Robert Randolph and the Family Band, liked one of their songs ("I need more love"), and heard they were coming to the Alligator Rocks club. My photographer-friend was covering the concert for the local paper, and I asked her to talk to the bouncer to get me and my buddy Wes in for free. Access granted.

Alligator Rocks held maybe 100 or so comfortably, so it was a nice, intimate crowd that got, well, loud. And pumped. At that time, Robert Randolph just got selected to Rolling Stones' 100 greatest guitarist of all time (if memory serves me right, he was #97). So the concert was touted as a chance to see one of the greatest living guitarist. Boy, did we.

Robert is the first pedal steel guitarist I've ever seen live. And I think it might be difficult to find one much better. It's one thing to see a great show, and it's another to hear talented musicians. We got to do both that night. Wes and I even got to meet Robert after the concert. We were just walking to our car when we ran into him going to his tour bus. He was still coming off the high of the concert, telling us this concert was almost as good as the one he did at the Wetlands (where the band recorded a live CD). I don't remember much of the chance encounter, but I remember Robert being one of the nicest, most down-to-earth people I've met. I think he was wearing a red Sixers jersey for the concert, and Wes and I innocently asked him if he was from Philly. "Nah," he said. "I'm from Jersey."

We got his autograph, and he called me "sweetie" a few times, and that's pretty much all I remember. Oh, except we caught a glimpse of the inside of his tour bus and about five or six blondes from the concert crowd made their way in the bus...

Fast forward to today, six years later, and I got to finally see Robert Randolph and the Family Band again. They were headlining the Riverwalk Blues and Music Festival here in downtown Fort Lauderdale. I just got home from the concert. 'Twas amazing. No surprise. And, the best part was I got to meet Robert all over again. Below's some visual proof of the excitement.

The Bonnet House

Can you imagine staying in an un-air-conditioned place in Florida? Ugh. I've lived in Florida my entire life, and sometimes staying in an air-conditioned place still doesn't give much refuge from the heat and humidity.

But there is one un-air-conditioned place I'm happy to visit here in Fort Lauderdale. It's the Bonnet House Museum & Gardens, one of the city's neatest gems (yes, I like using the word "neat" whenever I get the chance). It's the former home of Hugh Taylor Birch's daughter Helen and son-in-law, Frederic Bartlett (and then Bartlett's second wife Evelyn).

I went to the Bonnet House this past Saturday, probably my fourth visit in two years. Truthfully, it's just as good as the first visit. What I like so much about it is the colors. Lots of beautiful primary colors on the walls and lots of interesting art pieces collected over the years by Evelyn. The courtyard is the bread and butter of the place, where colors unite and your eye can find about 89 awesome details. I fell in love with the place so quickly that it even became the backdrop for a photo shoot our magazine did for our October 2009 issues of Gold Coast and Boca Life (see below).

Visit the Bonnet House when you can. It's a great spot just to learn a little about Fort Lauderdale's history (the tours are awesome and given by really informed and caring volunteers). Just visit it before it gets too hot because, well, there ain't no air conditioning.