Puma Running, Cubanos, and Mr. Worldwide

Some of you may remember a few months ago when we retired Reader Of The Week. In our last newsletter we briefly unretired it and then re-retired it. Today we are announcing that we are once again unretiring ROTW in order to bestow the honor unto Eric LiPuma. He is a loyal reader, a citizen of Vermont, and possesses the most unique last name I’ve ever seen. He spent a two-week period campaigning on his own behalf to become ROTW and today is his day. We’d like to point out that asking more than once is a rather undignified way to go about the whole thing, but we reward persistence. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.

Stephen: Ryan. Welcome home, bud. Welcome back to Google Docs.

Ryan: We’re back and it’s because we finally have something to talk about.

SK: And what could that be?

RS: The point of this newsletter has always been to share content. And today we get to share something we shot almost four months ago in Miami for our dear friends at Puma Running.

SK: We had a great time in Miami. Before we dive into the content, I would like to tell a short story from our trip if that is okay with you?

RS: As long as it doesn’t embarrass me or you or our wives or the company at large.

SK: The reader can decide, but I believe this to be mostly harmless. Anyway, you and I decided to go out for dinner one night. You found a local spot nearby that we walked to and it was a glorious walk. We both had been barely surviving the respective winters in Seattle and New York City, so the warm, damp hug of Miami was welcome. This has nothing to do with the story at large, but I’m just painting a little picture of two men, in short sleeves, walking to dinner.

We get to the little restaurant — a classic Cuban joint — that you saw on Eater or something. I order first and get a potpurri of fried plantains, pork, and cassava. And then you go ahead and order, with authority, a Cubano sandwich.

As we begin eating, you tell me that this place is known for their Cubanos. A piece of information I would have enjoyed having before placing my order. I’m certain you haven’t thought about this once since then, but I just want you and the dozens of people reading this to know that I have thought about it with some frequency.

My meal was delicious and I was and remain happy, but it was just a funny thing to say after the fact.

RS: I withheld crucial information from you. I’m sorry. I’m sure I let you have a couple bites of my sandwich. Which was great. Did we eat any other notable meals?

SK: You let me have one bite.

The only other notable food/beverage of the trip was our introduction to Cuban coffee (née cafecito) which, as far as I can tell, is just espresso with lots of sugar that you pour into comically small cups?

RS: Thimbles. I thought people were drinking coffee creamer. Turns out we were just taking shots of espresso all day long.

Let’s move on from the food and beverage tour of Miami and talk about the shoot.

I think it went well. We prepared thoroughly. We worked with a very funny Assistant Director who told us much too late in the day that he was close personal friends with Pitbull. We got to ride around on a battery powered grip trike. The models were very friendly. We got to hang out with Friend of the Company, Ben Weingart. Am I missing anything?

SK: That is a tidy little overview, missing only two critical details.

1. The Friend of Pitbull was named Space

2. We jumped into the Atlantic Ocean. Something I had only done twice until then.

RS: You were also sick as a dog the entire time.

SK: Man. I vaguely remembered something being wrong with me. My fugue state caused partial amnesia. Anyway, it was a great time and I think the little 30-second piece is quite fun. We put pen to paper to basically write out every single scene we wanted to shoot and for the most part, we executed those.

RS: Be Prepared. I think that’s the Boy Scout’s motto. It can now be our motto as well.

Outside of the actual filming, we worked with Matt Coddaire on the edit. He remains extremely nice and very good at his job. For sound design we tapped our friends at Glue Factory Music. And for color, the fine folks at Mural Studios. Specifically Quang Nguyen. Am I missing anyone else?

SK: That is our entire list of co-conspirators. We are honored to work with them.

So what’s next for us, Ryan?

RS: Well. I’m headed to Gainesville this week to shoot a 3D printed shoe. There’s potential we will be together at the Boston Marathon later in April.

If you work at a brand and have read this far, it would be great to work with you. Send us a letter detailing what you need and I’m positive we can accomplish it together.

Otherwise. I dunno man. I don’t think this was a terribly entertaining newsletter. We could pivot and talk about something else for a few paragraphs?

SK: This morning, you have asked the same question to me individually and then to a group message we are in together.

“Do you think you are smarter or dumber than you were pre-pandemic?”

Why are you thinking about this?

RS: The first thing you mentioned to me this morning was a phrase I had never heard before. “Claude boys.” And then you sent me an article about how a high school teacher observed some kids letting the AI program (is it a program? Is it a person? What is it?), Claude, decide what they do every day. This led me to reflect on my own life, and what sort of agency I’ve handed over to computers. I then decided that it has made me a dumber, worse person. All of this happened in a fraction of a second in my own human brain. It went Steve—>Claude Boys––>Am I an idiot? One could argue that most thought loops in my brain end with the phrase “are you dumb?” so perhaps this wasn’t out of the ordinary. But so far, everyone that I’ve posed this question to (total: three people) has said “yes I am a worse person than I was six years ago.”

SK: To me, it’s sort of broken up into two buckets. I genuinely think I’m a smarter person than six years ago due to the classic trials and tribulations of LIFE, brother.

But I’m certainly less ok with just being still and bored, which leads to varying degrees of dumbness through inhaling algorithms instead of just sitting down and literally doing anything else.

I do try to be more at rest and without AI/Tech but it’s very difficult and that bums me out. I think the only time I really find it is when I cook, which I try to do daily. Eat. Pray. Love.

RS: I don’t bring my phone with me when I run. That’s the only time I am truly free from the constant buzzing of my idiot phone. So that’s nice. But otherwise, I hear what you’re saying, man. There’s probably nothing totally worthwhile kicking around my head, but there has to be a few good ideas that I’ve had while standing around bored that have completely evaporated once my phone has lit up. And that’s a bummer.

SK: I sometimes wonder if the ping of another dumb text message from my moronic friends has completely erased the beginnings of fame and fortune. I suppose it’s something we will never know.

We need to get out of here. It’s getting grim.

RS: This newsletter has become a cog in the ever-spinning wheel of nonstop distractions. Unsubscribe now before your brain completely smoothes over.

SK: Release yourself from the shackles of our nonsense!

See you next week.