The Pioneer Newsletter #18

Thursday , March 7th

Introduction Paragraph

Time is running out to buy Girl Scout cookies. Somebody informed me of this earlier today. Once again, it was another stellar cookie drive for the Girl Scouts of America. I don’t have any statistics to back this up but instead, the consistent presence of their tables at each and every door I walk through. Unlike the orange-vested ASPCA volunteers, who are avoided like the COVID-19 worldwide pandemic, a consistent crowd surrounds the scouts as the smiling 12 year olds exchange pallets of Thin Mints for the last $100 bills in circulation. I’m still not sure where the Boy Scouts of America are hiding and why they do not appear across the street, peddling boxes of beef jerky. But this is not important. What is important, is that the Girl Scouts are out there and dutifully carrying the torch for physical commerce. The accepted logic of our globalized web-operated economy is to make your product available at all times, anywhere, and everywhere. By the time you’ve finished reading this paragraph, 7 Amazon packages have arrived at your doorstep as well as a box of meal prep for the next 5 years. Even this newsletter appears in your inbox which translates merely to another ding or buzz on your phone. We’re bombarded with the infinite possibility to consume or purchase anything at any time of the day. Our level of accessibility to any market has never been greater. But the Girl Scouts simply don’t give a fuck. They subvert e-commerce and our expectations of instant gratification. They set up a folding table at the grocery store and let you know they’ll need cash for their goods. In return, we interact with the next generation of hustlers - completely unaware if the Girl Scouts cookie drive is a charity or for-profit business. All we know is it felt good to make their day and the cookies taste better for it. So as I grow this very newsletter, it’s time to take a page out of the Girl Scouts playbook. It’s time to stop digitizing and start commodifying. Maybe next time you step out of Belles Beach House or Zebulon on a Friday night - you’ll see yours truly with Brownie sash around his chest, handing you a physical copy of the Pioneer Newsletter.

Scout’s honor.

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Which Email Sign-Off Are YOU?

One of my favorite new terms I’ve stumbled upon this year is email job. The term is neither cute nor clever. It’s instead efficient in its meaning and hopefully universally understood by anyone who holds such a position. But just in case you’re not following, an email job refers to any profession that requires 8 straight hours of correspondence with fellow emailees - all of which amounts to simply more emails being sent the following day. Email jobs can often be confused with jobs that require email yet rely on proficiency outside of it. Analysts analyze, associates associate, and designers design - but coordinators, many assistants, and supervisors email. And keep emailing. Because if they stopped emailing, the email-industrial complex would crumble and they’d have to start from square one - god forbid putting that sociology degree to use. I should instead say WE. I too am a coordinator by day and merely a newsletterer by night. And if you’re reading this, still unsure if you’re one of us - answer this question. After you’ve pulled away from your office building, while you wait at that first red light, do you aimlessly stare into the glowing crimson and ask yourself…

Did I do anything today? Did I? *then slowly crank up Khruangbin, ignoring existential dread*

Did you do that last night? Will you have the exact same thought this evening? Congratulations! You too have an email job.

But don’t worry. You’re not alone. There are many of us out there. In fact, it’s why I write this very newsletter. If most of my readers were poets, sculptors, and white water rafting instructors, I doubt too they’d routinely open these emails. Instead, plenty of us are emailers and I say it’s time to start investigating how we’ve chosen to live our lives. Nay, it’s time to start celebrating it. So here’s a comprehensive Buzzfeed-style list of email sign-offs. Because when our existence is purely defined by our digital correspondence, it’s incredibly important to know…

Which email sign-off are YOU?

Best, / Thanks,

You’re level-headed. While not thinking too much about how a sign-off can define your existence, you still feel the need to be polite. Best, or Thanks, is not actively noticed by the reader such as ambient sound or the hum of an air conditioner. Maybe this works for you as you’re not trying to stand out. Moving with the pack can often be beneficial in an email job. However, every time I type Best, I can’t help feeling like just another hat in this photo.

All the best,

You’re most likely a little green and the comfortable perks of an email job are still shiny and novel. You’re excited to have fresh new business cards, maybe a work phone, and you haven’t yet missed a company-organized happy hour. While not over-enthusiastic, you’re still slightly insecure about your new colleagues’ perception of your abilities. I hope they think I’m smart, you’re probably thinking as you add two extra words to the simple Best,. But not to worry. Ambition is far from a bad quality to have. While an email job might slowly chip away at your eagerness to succeed, your ability to attack any job with rigor and attentiveness will never go unnoticed.

Thanks!

You enjoy nothing more than to send strongly worded emails. While you’d love to take the high road and brush off whatever incompetence comes your way, you simply cannot. Instead, you throw some serious literary shade in your replies. You then smirk, just a little, marveling at the amount of passive aggression you were able to jam into four sentences. But just before sending, you take a step back. If you’re religious, you remember that we’re all God’s children. While definitely not willing to start over and write a politer email, you wouldn’t mind softening the blow. A simple Thanks! will do.

Thx

Regards,

You know how to tie a tie without YouTube and damn comfortable in one. You’re an intellectual or simply wise from your journeys and adventures. But be careful if you cannot walk the walk. Typos, poor sentence structure, and unimportant emails followed by Regards, are the mark of a buffoon. When I see an unpoetic emailer use Regards, I imagine they’re two children stacked on top of each other, wearing a trench coat.

Just keep livin’,

You’re Mathew McConaughey. Congratulations on that.

Kindly,

You’re either innocent or just not interested in exuding power. This is best if you really are a kind human being outside of your life on email. Kindly, is a phenomenal way of conveying that you believe there’s far more beauty to this world outside of the inbox. I wholly agree with the sentiment and think it’s quite touching. And to show my appreciation, I’ll take twice as long to respond to you.

Cheers,

Either your British and cheers is simply how you say thanks or…

You’re a failed American writer but still looking to bring your zest for the arts to the mundane email job you never thought you’d have. On the rare occasion you’re required to wear a suit, you’ll pair it with a graphic tee and Chuck Taylors. One summer you took a trip to San Diego to attend a Community panel at Comic-Con. I don’t know why you did this.

Carry on,

The hope is that you possess the rare ability to balance humor and professionalism. You closed down the happy hour last Tuesday night only to beast a deal that Wednesday morning. For most, Carry on, sounds absolutely ridiculous but hopefully for you, it’s an extension of your affably eccentric personality. This is the hope. But just like a bowtie, pulling off Carry on, can be tricky. You might just not be that guy, bud. You may be using the sign-off to be like that guy. But trust me, using Carry on, won’t make you that guy. You just have to be that guy. So, are you that guy, guy?

Have a nice weekend!

You’re emailing someone on a Friday and there’s a little more juice in the fingers as you hammer the keys. Your Have a nice weekend! may seem like a thoughtful wish to your correspondent but the sign-off is far more a projection of your own weekend excitement. Because you are excited. You’re fired up. You may as well be saying Holy shit fellow coordinator, can you believe it’s almost the weekend? I’m about to get so incredibly unprofessional these next two days before I reply to you.

Best regards,

You’re dyslexic but not in a cool, visionary, Rick Rubin way. Instead, you just don’t have a strong comprehension of the English language and work at a menial job that will do nothing to improve it. Start reading some books and maybe take a night class at Kumon. You’ve got a long road ahead of you.

Soft regards,

You’re clearly fucking with someone. If they don’t realize it - that’s on them. But if they do, even funnier. Sometimes I’ll drop a Soft regards, to a chum/co-conspirator who’s also aware of the hollow existence we share at our email jobs. Soft regards, like any great line of snark, must be used correctly and infrequently. Handle with care, people.

With gratitude, /Stay awesome!/Shoot for the stars!

You’re a 6^th grade teacher (far from an email job) and clearly out of your bounds. I’m guessing you’ve also changed the font and color of your text to show you’re quirky and playful. This is because you spend most of your days with children and while this does make you a hero - has clearly altered your perception of how adults communicate. Whatever grant you’re hoping to score for a new projector will most likely be taken seriously if you stop speaking to others like they’re this week’s line leader.

[YOUR NAME]

You’re one of two people. You may be like my father - to the point and frequent user of periods whilst texting. Or…

You’re just knee-deep in a thread and no longer feel the need to sign off with anything. After the initial correspondence, an unspoken agreement has been reached. We no longer feel the need to - as my mother aptly stated - fake sincerity with our fellow emailee. We’ve already made sure to dot our i’s and reesp our t’s. It’s now time to get down to business. Email job business.

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Recs

Newsstands (URBAN STRUCTURE) - I stumbled upon a newsstand in Studio City last Sunday. It was phenomenal. The cashier was friendly, the selection was impeccable, and such as the Girl Scout Cookie operation - I held the product in my hands before purchasing. I’m a big magazine guy. I need more newsstands.

Perfect Days (MOVIE) - Rec’d a Wim Wenders movie (Wings of Desire) a few weeks back. This is his new new. Try it on ya and see how it fits.

Eye Contact (HUMAN DECENCY) - Really trying to emphasize eye contact whilst speaking with others. But what I’ve found through my efforts is that we’re all too scared of it. So next time you check out at the newsstand, look the cashier in the eye as you say thank you. It’s like splashing cold water on your face. Refreshing.

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Conclusion Paragraph

This newsletter's already way too long so no conclusion. But please, if you’d like, guess who my hero is this week…

If you guessed Paul Giamatti, pass GO and collect $200.