Outreach Blog

It's Logo Fever Time

2012-01-30T08:25:00.008-06:00

It's February, or as I write this it's almost February. The new year for this Texas PR consultant is off to a good start. The holidays are finally behind us. It's too soon to know if there will be time for spring break, and too soon to plan summer vacation, so in American business it is now,excuse my French, "Balls to the walls time."

I love this time of year. Not just the business part and the being as busy as I want to be part. In Texas, the sun is shining and it isn't 110 outside. I can do 65 degrees with sun all winter long with no complaints. Good weather, good moods, good business.

This year I'm keeping my eye on a trend that feels good. It's the precursor for a leap in economic recovery at least for the marketing sector.

Budgets were obviously created last year, and not a lot has been spent YTD, but at OutreachPR we are starting to see new work in the form of rebranding requests and PR to support new brands and new product launches. A lot of this work starts with logo work and new design.

New logos lead to new marketing money hitting the economic scene. Logos are the first step in any branding or rebranding effort. New logos are a constant, as are new businesses. New businesses often fail, so logo work alone cannot signal good economic news, but it's almost always good for the marketing sector.

That's why I might be one of the few marketing consultants who cautions against massive rebranding, unless the business has really changed or the old brand is simply outdated. It's not that I don't like my partners in graphic design making a lot of money, new brands have to bring something else new too, or it's just window dressing that won't fool anyone or sustain the expense for long.

The "What's new about the business" part is what fuels public relations, and it's what keeps me getting up for work every day.

It's different though when large entities like sports franchises and universities start the rebranding process. I've been involved on an intimate level with a few major name changes or rebranding efforts in my time. They can be exciting or exasperating. It just depends on how much effort goes into it up front, during, and after.

For example, this weekend I received an email from the University of Colorado at Denver, where i got my master's degree in marketing. They wanted my opinion on the new mascot for the campus. Either I haven't been paying attention (very possible), or this had to be some sort of early stage marketing survey.

While the CU Denver campus is an urban campus right downtown, it is part of the University of Colorado system. I have a CU Buff Christmas ornament. I have a CU Buff penant in the garage. I may have graduated from the Graduate School of Business, and it was in Denver, not Boulder, but it was still CU. It's a top business school. It doesn't have a football team or even really need a mascot. Until this weekend, I never gave it a thought.

Apparently, that has changed. The survey I was asked to complete asked about several different "favorite new mascot" names. The options included, and I am NOT lying: Golden Elk, Stegasaurus, Minters, Fourteeners, Bandits, Snakes, Marmots, Harvester Ants (seriously, I am not lying), and so many others but not "Buffs." Excuse my alphabetical annunciation, but WTF? There was no option to pick "Buffs." While the alumni in me became a bit agitated, the marketing person in me went, "What are they thinking?"

Logo fever, or in this case "Mascot Mayhem" is the first sign that there's a lot of studying and research that is about to be done and a lot of marketing activity that is about to begin. I am hoping, against all hope, that in this particular case this survey was an attempt by the marketing team (or a group of marketing students, PLEASE) to find out how strongly alumni and students identify with the CU Buff. In my case, I don't care if you put a city scape behind him and make him a slick cousin of Chip's, but make it a Marmot, and as they say on reality TV, "I'm done."

My point: change can be good or not so good. Logo redesign can signal any number of things. If a sports franchise is not having a great season and merchandise is languishing, a new logo will spark interest in getting a new shirt, hat or jersey, and it might help ease the downturn for that particular budget line item.

Case in point: the Carolina Panthers. This new logo has created a need for new officially licensed merchandise, equipment, jerseys, advertising, marketing materials...it hasn't helped the football team win any more games, and more than a few fans are booing, but the new logo created work for lots of people and it will generate an economic boon, of sorts.

This is why I like focusing on the second part of a new logo. Leave the new logo to the board of directors and the focus group people and the graphic designers and the t-shirt folks. I want to leverage the attention the new logo might generate toward new things going on with the business: improvements, new divisions, technological innovations. That's where PR people have fun with logo design.

So here it is, February. It's Logo Fever time. From a "reality" standpoint, as I said up front, new logos cannot be used as an economic indicator extrapolated for the entire economy. Don't go buying stock today and say I told you to do it.

I do think that 2012 is going to be a good year for my graphic design partners. I only hope businesses put soome substance behind the new looks so that I have something to work with too.

P.S. CU Stegasaurases...are they nuts?

Public Relations in 2012

2011-12-30T06:24:00.006-06:00

While it's a little early to document the trends for public relations or PR in 2012, there are a few things that seem to be happening here on the "front lines" of PR.

1. Budgets are back, and companies are willing to spend money and commit to the concept and value of PR for the purpose of supporting their marketing, brand development, and communications.

2. That said, clients are impatient. In this "get it NOW" world, clients want tangible results, and they want them fast. Today that seems to mean web traffic. While PR can drive web traffic and spike it, (and it does), that's not the complete measure of good PR. To keep clients happy while "buying the time" it takes to put enough information together and out there to get results will continue to be the biggest challenge that publicists will have in 2012.

3. Facts with sequins on them still works. PR has always been the sector of marketing that gathered, compiled, and stored facts and information and communicated it to key audiences,primarily media, sometimes with some glitz and glam, some video, speeches, media tours, media kits, etc. This "stuff" still works. Today media relations has changed, but not much. People are still people, and people are in charge of the digital media. So in addition to news releases and paid distribution services, companies are recognizing they still need to "press the flesh," develop relationships, and put the time into creating the media network that makes the rest of marketing so much easier. That takes a publicist and it takes time.

4. Trend: Outsourced Social Media. Companies will continue to use social media for a variety of things, but it will shift from a marketing driven "project" to a top down C-level project that will put it in into the PR mix. Companies are discovering that social media is on the front lines of customer service and PR. Businesses are beginning to recognize that they have put the youngest, least experienced employees (or even interns!) in charge of their social media program. This means they have the kids running loose with the microphone, effectively in charge of a global image. Trend for 2012: outsource social media content creation to professionals. Social media is an awesome tool for PR and customer service, and in 2012 more companies will figure out how to use it effectively. PR firms and copywriters will help. Marketing will manage the back end of the system and help with strategic direction, but professional copywriters will supply the content.

5. Content in bulk, but it has to be good. It's about quantity today, which is good news for all those out of work journalists who need something to do. Everyone wants and needs content to drive their SEO engine and give it what one of my clients calls "Google Juice." (See post WRITERS WANTED!)

Check back here in a year and we'll see if these trends hold true for 2012. In the meantime, have a wonderful New Year's Weekend as the start of what I hope will be a blessed new year for you.

Hockey is the Coolest Game Around

2010-03-02T07:56:00.002-06:00

Sunday, Feb. 28, we watched the USA Hockey team take it to Canada -- all the way into overtime. Non-hockey fans don't realize what a big deal that was. USA Hockey fans only wish Sid the Kid had held out just a few more minutes. Had this been a tournament with different scoring systems, the US may have won that Gold Medal. In typical tournament play, a win gives you a point, a loss gets you nothing, but a win in overtime gets you two points and a loss in overtime gets you one. Given that math, the fact that we beat Canada once (they are still stinging from that) and then tied it to go into Overtime says to me it was really a draw. Way to go USA!

Of course, the reality is that all the players in the Olympic Gold Medal game were NHL players who spend most of their time here in the U.S. Sydney Crosby who scored the winning goal for Canada plays for Pittsburgh, Brendan Morrow plays here in Dallas, I could go on and on.

Hockey may be Canada's game, but for those of us who love it, we're sure glad it's big here in the U.S. too.

Sunday, just minutes -- literally -- after the US won the silver medal, my son and his team stepped onto the ice to go for their own win. It was Senior Recognition Night, so we parents got a minute in the spotlight too. This pic is our oldest son, Tanner with his proud parents. He's been playing hockey since he was old enough to pick up a stick -- banging real pucks against the baseboards in my kitchen, sliding around on his stocking feet on the hard wood floors, telling anyone who ventured in during his "games" to "get off the ice!"

We were on vacation in San Diego once and went to a minor league game. Sitting in the front row, we listened to a four year old Tanner bragging to another little boy that he had a rink in his house. That kitchen was his rink, and he was serious about it. We got him on the ice at the University rink near our home in Boulder when he was five, and we waited anxiously for the call from Boulder Valley Hockey to tell us they had a place available for him on a Squirt (or is it Pee Wee) league. In the meantime, while we waited, he played roller hockey and had a ball.

A lot of time has passed. Lots of roller, lots of ice. Flash forward 14 years, and he's still playing hockey as often as he can. He'll leave for college in the fall and play hockey there. The biggest difference: I won't get to watch every game. He's planning to go more than 1000 miles away to Colorado -- his home state. He's been wanting to get back there for years, and now he has his chance.

Standing on the ice the other night, it started to hit me. My days as a hockey mom, getting up at 3:30 a.m. to make sure I am showered and awake enough to drive him to practice, are about to end. I won't be spending 12-15 hours a week either in the car on the way to/from hockey or in the stands, bundled in a blanket, at a hockey game.

I'm going to miss hockey. I'm going to miss my fellow hockey moms and dads, some whom I've known for years. I'm going to miss the other kids. I'm even going to miss the alarm going off at 3:30 a.m. Most of all, I'm going to miss my son. A lot. It's really starting to hit me.

Maybe he really wants to go to community college and stay at home for a year...or two...when he gets home today, or on the way to hockey tonight, I think I'll ask him.

Most Snow in the History of Texas

2010-02-12T13:27:00.002-06:00

Yes, this is a big deal. On Feb. 11 we woke up to a light dusting of snow at our house an hour south and east of Dallas, Texas. We were amazed. This rarely happens here. What fun! An hour later it started to snow. And it snowed for the better part of 20 hours. Some of it was rainy snow. Some of it was huge snowflakes. At times, it was truly snow SHOWERS. Needless to say, work and school were all cancelled around here. Dallas got more than a foot, we got far less, about four inches, I'd say. Most of the neighborhood kids have never seen snow like this in their lifetimes, and every one of them is outside, sledding, snowballing, making snowmen. It's quite a phenomenon.

My friend in Iowa says, "Big deal, we've had 50 inches this year." My relatives in DC are snowed in and have been for weeks. My friend's son is stranded in DC on his sixth grade field trip. We get this once every dozen years? It must be, because I've never seen snow like this here, and I've lived here for 10 years.

Now that I've seen it, photographed it (from my backyard, above), and seen my kids and everyone else's enjoy it, I'm ready for some sunshine. Tomorrow it will be in the 50s, let's hope by 60s by next week, then come the 70s and tennis weather, and then it will get hot. That's okay. I can deal with hot. I'm not so good with cold, and this snow, just seeing it from my office windows, makes me cold.

Thanks Mother Nature for the reminder of how beautiful the snow can be. Now let's get back to Texas weather. Tennis anyone?

The best photographer -- ever.

2010-02-10T08:40:00.006-06:00

Yesterday I had occasion to stop by and see my favorite photographer, Jamye Perelli. She was in her studio editing, while her assistant tried to get her work done as a construction project (the installation of a huge light) went on overhead. It was very obvious that this lady is busy!

I stayed just a few moments. We discussed some writing I had done for her and some photography she will do for me. I left glad I'd stopped by. Some people just brighten your day and their creativity and passion fuels your own. That's the way I feel about Jamye, her husband Dino, and their entrepreneurial spirit and sense of fun.

Thanks for the inspiration, Jamye.

You can read about Jamye on her blog. Get there by checking this out...I don't know how I missed this, but I'm glad I found it now!
Tannerhttp://jamyeperelli.com/blog/tanners-senior-portraits/

You Can Change Behaviors with Fun

2010-01-26T16:56:00.005-06:00

Where has this month gone?

2010-01-21T14:08:00.004-06:00

If you're like me, it took you a while to get back in the swing after the holidays.

If you're like me, once you got in the swing, you started spinning,and it's been a whirlwind ever since.

The horrible earthquake damage in Haiti. I don't know about you, but I am paralyzed about what I can do to help. Do I have ten bucks added to my phone bill by texting a certain number? Do I give to the Red Cross? Do I adopt a baby or offer a family refuge in my home? For days I have been worried about what I should do.

Now somehow it's already Jan. 21. In Texas, it's 72 degrees outside and the sun is shining. It feels like winter is gone. Last night there was a tornado about 20 miles from my house. Tornados in January? That's just odd.

It's January 21. Pretty soon it will be spring break and graduation. Isn't my FAFSA paperwork due next week? Don't I have to do my taxes first? I've never done them before August, or at least April. Do I really have to do them now? Housing contracts from college will be here soon...is he sure that's where he wants to go?

Yes, in my world there is spinning and whirlwind activities, and time racing by and tornados just down the road. I'm thinking this is going to be one heck of a year. It surely has to be better than last year, right? If not, at least it's moving fast. So far, work is crazy, people are excited, and I'm having fun. So why don't I feel in control? I like my clients, they seem to like me, I've got more than ever, so it must be good, right?

But WHAT am I really doing every day?

Yep...I have to figure out what I can do about the situation in Haiti, or at least find out if the people who lost their homes a few miles down the road have some clothes to wear. But first I have to call that guy, and write that thing, and follow up on that other...I need to clear my desk of the lingering December work and get my invoices that aren't out, out! I owe this thing to that guy, and that thing to this guy...and new business is rolling in...

Yep, things are moving fast. This month has flown by. The holidays are definitely behind us.

Happy Holidays from American Airlines

2009-12-11T08:13:00.001-06:00

Happy Holidays from American Airlines

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Elf Wanted

2009-12-07T07:42:00.002-06:00

I just glanced at my calendar to see we're just two and a half weeks away from Christmas. Based on the amount of preparation I have done up to now, I'd say Christmas is going to be very low key around here.

My dear husband got the Christmas spirit the day after Thanksgiving. Here it was in the 70s and a gorgeous day. Traditionally it is a great day to put up your lights. I was exhausted from a day of cooking and entertaining that had evolved into a night of entertaining, so I haphazardly participated, not quite ready for Christmas.

Mark got out the lights and proceeded to determine what worked and what didn't. We lost one of our two large evergreens out front this year, so we had a few extra lights from that tree, which I had enjoyed decorating with large balls and ornaments. (I sort of wonder if I killed it doing that. The balls were all made in China.)

Anyway, Mark took a strand of those big, old fashioned lights and strung them along the front of our porch. He did this while I was checking email or something, and when I came out, I wasn't thrilled. But, trying hard to have some Christmas spirit, I didn't say anything, then.
Instead, I suggested that we head to town to see if we could find a new "show piece" for our outdoor lighting display. I wanted a large "PEACE" sign, the words, not the symbol, that could present my goal for this holiday to the neighborhood. Mark reluctantly agreed, reminding me that it was Black Friday and WalMart would be a zoo. I convinced him that would be half the fun and off we went.

Either WalMart decided no one wanted holiday decorations this year or they were all sold out, because the shelves there were void of my giant "PEACE" sign and anything else that might have been considered as a "Show Piece." We bought some toilet paper and left.

We headed to Lowes to see what we could find there. They had all sorts of those big blow-up things, even a Santa golfer with a bunch of elves who spun around to swing at the ball. It was pretty cool, but just wasn't what I had in mind. There were no lighted Peace signs, and only a handful of other things that I felt might work as a "back-up" plan. None thrilled me. So we left Lowes empty handed and returned home.

So for the last week, as the weather has turned cold and the rain has come in buckets, our house has had just one sorry strand of lights (silly old fashioned lights) on it. I haven't even bothered to turn them on. A few neighbors have somehow managed to get their lights up, and some displays are very nice. But participation this year seems down. I hope it's due to the weather and not to the economy. I guess time will tell.

Inside, my house has fared a little better, but not much. Mark pulled down a dozen or so boxes marked "Christmas," and I have made a few feeble efforts to decorate, but I'm not thrilled with the results just yet, and the boxes I want seem to be missing.

We also had a sad mishap this weekend when I headed to the attic to find my missing boxes. I was looking for my ceramic lighted Christmas tree and all the pieces of my Nativity Set. The tree was a gift from Mark's mom when we first got married. We have had it more than 20 years. I love it. It stays on the entire holiday season and has beautiful lights. I've seen other ceramic trees like this at craft fairs and such, but ours has always been the prettiest to me.

Mark followed me up to the attic where I found a box that I peeked into that seemed to contain my Christmas pillows. It wasn't very heavy, and not very big. I certainly didn't think it contained our favorite ceramic tree when I handed it to Mark and said, "This is pillows, just toss it down." Mark tossed the box down the steps to a resulting smattering of broken ceramic and lights. He looked down the ladder, and sure enough, our ceramic tree had been tucked lovingly in between two Christmas pillows, and it now lay in a million pieces.

I took the blame, but Mark felt the guilt. I tried to be non-chalant, but he was less so. He went downstairs to clean up the mess while I kept looking for my Nativity scene and tried not to be bummed out about our favorite tree, although the incident definitely put a damper on my decorating plans and enthusiasm for the task. It took Mark totally out of the game, so I got bored quick too and quit.

So at this point, that's the status. The fireplace mantle has been cleared and our stockings are hung. A couple wreathes have been hung outside on either side of the front door and a few more are scattered around the porch. I poured through the women's mags over the weekend and got all sorts of ideas. But nothing is done. Not yet. My inspiration is here, but my action plan is not.

So I'm looking for an elf. I'm praying for an elf. I want someone to inspire me and get me going on the decorating part of Christmas. To me, it's the best part. I always love my home when it's decorated for Christmas inside and out. I love getting up in the morning and plugging in the tree so that our home is festive at breakfast and throughout the day. I love turning on the outdoor lights at dark. We just aren't there yet, and time is fleeting.

And don't even ask me about shopping. I haven't done a thing other than ask people "What do you want for Christmas" and get "I dunno" as the answer. It's all good though. The holidays are not about the material things but the celebration. But that doesn't change the fact that a Christmas elf who could light a fire under me this year would be a handy thing to have.

Dec. 1, Now What?

2009-12-01T06:04:00.003-06:00

I flipped my calendar over today onto the last page of the year. I did it unceremoniously. I looked at the days and the picture of a serene, undeveloped beach at South Padre Island, Texas, and I tried to get sentimental. I looked at the month hanging there before me, and I tried to feel excitement or melancholy or satisfaction. All I could think was "I have to get a new calendar."

In previous years, early in the history of this blog, I wrote some sentimental stuff. We're coming up on the end of the year and the start of a new one, and I'm not sure exactly what I feel. There's a definite sense of calm, and I feel like that should alarm me. But it doesn't.

December is one of those months that, when done right, allows your personal life -- and if you're lucky your family life -- to overwhelm your work life. Sadly most people don't do it right. They try to maintain "balance" or fit the personal stuff into the cracks of a busy "end of year."

Don't get me wrong, December -- the whole holiday period -- is HUGELY busy for me work-wise. I have some retail clients and the biggest trade show in my business (one of the biggest trade shows in the world, in fact) happens early in the year every year, so we're knee deep in preparations. December is a time for proposals and new agreements and negotiations too. Clients want to get together and I need to send gifts, buy some new company mugs or something (help, Susan). Plus the family cards, which I think are so important, have to get done (the earlier the better and you get more back!) And let's not even get started on the whole shopping thing. This year I just think even talking about it is bad form.

When I started my business, and when my kids were small, I would tell people "I don't work much in August or December." I didn't because I couldn't. August was vacation and back to school time, and if I'd had a busy summer, which I usually did, by August I was guilt ridden with how many times I had plunked my kids in front of a movie or made them play "the quiet game" so I could work. I "took August off" for many years. It was a company rule, and a very good one. I had to give that up the last few years, but it was a good tradition while it lasted. I also used to not work much in December. Years ago I had fewer clients and they were corporate clients and they literally shut down new projects (it seemed) from Thanksgiving through the new year. That was fine with me. I had time for birthdays (there are two December birthdays in my family) and school parties and Christmas and didn't worry about work. I no longer get my December free.

My assistant was here yesterday and she's done with her shopping. I was impressed. I have done a little shopping -- early shopping -- incredibly frugal and downright embarassingly CHEAP shopping. I've spent the last few days searching for the things I KNOW I bought the last few months. (I'm a good hider, with some great hiding places.) I've started making lists of things I need to do. But I'm easing into it. I'm a giver, so I don't stress over holiday time. I savor.

So anyway, it's December already. Another year is about shot, and yet December itself is full of promise. This month gives us a chance to wrap up the year with a little extra effort. I am gung ho about business, buckling down for the next several years, which will involve putting my children through college. (That will sober you up if the rest of mid-life hasn't already.) But I am busy, every week brings new experiences (usually involving waiting up for teens and this mid-life emotion called "worry"), and I am loving the momentum. I believe good vibes attract good stuff. That isn't very prophetic, but dang it, it's early in the day.

So flip your calendar over -- I just flipped another one to reveal two beautiful quarter horses in a winter brown pasture covered with a dusting of frost. They don't look to be in a hurry. They're chillin'. That's a good message for this month. Slow, measured paces through the routine of life, and throw in a few celebrations and a lot of thoughtful giving, and that will be a nice wrap up to a very different year and a nice wind up for what I believe will be one of the most incredible years of our lives. 2010. I can feel it. It's looming like a big tidal wave. I'm seeing housing construction, restaurant construction, and lots of activity around our town, and Dallas never did seem to slow down...so enjoy December. Savor the serenity and the IDEAS of the holiday season. Get your decorations out and enjoy them. Stay the course.

Then toward the end of the month, hang up a new calendar, strap in and hold on, because this rebound is going to be a wild, wild ride, and it's definitely headed straight for us. I can feel it. But for now, let's just enjoy December. It really is the best month of the year.

Idea of the day

2009-11-16T10:09:00.003-06:00

If you've read my blog any time over the last year, you have been privy to a random list of things that go on in my head. Blog posts usually arise out of me needing a warm up for the day. You have seen singers warm up with scales. For a writer, at least for me, blog posts are a tool, one of many, that I can use. It's much more stream of consciousness than anything else I do, and I break a lot more grammar rules than any client work I do, but I also know I don't have a million readers I'm offending, so I think it's really okay.

So I was thinking about, this is sort of weird, thinking. My job involves a lot of thinking. I like that part. It's something I get paid for, because thinking leads to ideas. My clients want ideas. Actually, they have ideas. They want good ideas, and great ideas if they are good at their jobs, and my clients are. So let's just say they all want great ideas, and they want me to help them do them. Since my job is to DO these ideas, it's important to me that the ideas are not only good, but they're doable, and have a good probability of success. I also like it when they can be fun to do, or when it allows me project budgets that I can get creative with, but a good idea is a good idea, and coming up with them is not always easy.

Just having a good idea is the first level, but that's no guarantee that it's going to work. Since clients want results, not flashy executions that cost a lot of money and that might be fun to do: they want real results, so you have to think things through. It can't always be rushed. Sure, you can be on a call or in a meeting and get a good idea. That does happen all the time, but a lot of times those good ideas end up not being that good of an idea. It's certainly something else to think about.

So, if you're still with me, cool. There is a point to this post. The cool thing about having "think time" is it's what makes the difference between a successful marketing or communication program or an okay one. I am fortunate to have great clients that value the strategy part of business. That's the fun part. When you are being strategic, it's not a chase, it's an avid and deliberate pursuit. That's fun. It gives you something to measure too. I have great clients who think in goals and objectives and strategies and tactics. That's how I think too, so it works out. I like that I do get paid to think, not on an hourly basis, per say, but more the value side of the equation. It's why lawyers can charge $300 an hour or why photographers charge $2000 a day to take pictures. It's the value thing. Mine's idea-related value.

I like that there's no hard labor involved in thinking, which is not to be confused with thinking hard. There is such a thing as thinking hard, or having it BE hard to think of something good. But there are ways to get around that, and professional thinkers know them. I have my own. Everyone does. The best part about thinking (and the thing I think most people forget), is you can think all the time. One might say you really should. Not about work, so much, but just about whatever. It's important to be present in the moment, but there's also a lot of your brain that can be thinking without you really being tuned into it. Even in yoru sleep. I think I learned to play bridge in my sleep last night. I had read about it in depth last week, and last night I think I dreamed I played. Now I know how to play. That's what's cool. The brain is really amazing.

I hope it's not just me,but when you are thinking, it's important to write things down. Otherewise, again I hope this isn't just me, you will forget your ideas. That's because when you learn to think, you come up with all sorts of stuff. Weird, random stuff sometimes. It might be valuable, it might not. It's best to just write things down. I get ideas every day that I do write down. Most are for clients. Some are not. In fact, a lot are probably just random ideas that I write down out of habit. I find scribblings all the time on bank slips or other pieces of paper out of my car, and in my phone, random stuff: scenes for screenplays labeled only, "tuna sandwich and bad Spanish scene." I have no idea what that really means. I know what it's for, but I have no idea what the scene is about, although at one point I apparently thought of something I thought was a good enough to write down. I need to write more detail with some ideas, because even the good ones can be fleeting. Memory is a funny thing.

I thought of an awesome idea for a screenplay about a young bridge player. It's hilarious. I have the casting figured out and everything. Of course someone needs to write it, and it's in my head, so that would seem to need to be me, but I don't have a lot of time or any one willing to pay my mortgage for me while I write the screenplay. That's an example of a great idea that will hang around a while. I may try to do it, or find someone to help me do it, but that's a side issue...

Today my great idea was to start a business to provide college search services, and even expanded beyond that, to include scholarship identification and applications. I'd like to own that business, but maybe not work at it. I searched the term, and people are doing it. I think it's really interesting. I'm doing it pro bono, and there's nothing horrible about the process. It would be harder to do for someone else, but not impossible. I really have let my son lead the process, so that would be the same with just about any client. I have to think about it a little more. I like the idea. After all, I've learned how to do this, mostly because I had time to think about how to do it. I also had an assistant who really has been helpful in organizing all the hundreds of pieces of information related to everything from testing to transcripts to scholarship deadlines and individual college brochures and applications. I have my son driving the process and saying, "Yes, No, Hey Mom Look at THIS." We've done a lot. Probably more than most. I see it as another way to make money, because money you don't spend is money you make. I have justified spending time on this because that is how I THINK about it. What "normal" parent has time to do this? I hope all, but I know not many. If you're about to fork over $100-$150,000 of your money over the next four years on college (or go into debt or whatever) why not pay someone SOMETHING to help you and make sure you are getting everything you need to get and are doing everything you should do? It's a good idea. Maybe even a great one. Perhaps even viable. We'll see. If you want to work in that business, call me.

A final thought about thinking: the best thing about thinking is it can be done while you do other things, and it doesn't have to be done "at work." You can think while you drive, while you listen to music, while you walk a dog or do laundry. It can be done while you're cooking, but I don't recommend it. I've tried it. I avoid thinking about anything other than cooking when I'm cooking. There are just too many dangers: measurements, knives, hot burners. Cooking takes concentration, and for me it's fun in itself, so if I'm going to cook I'm going to enjoy that and not waste that time thinking. The reality, however, is that I don't get to cook very often. I'm usually writing away or thinking about something totally unrelated to cooking and someone in my house begins whining about STARVING. So then there's no time for a trip to the store for the fresh ingredients that Rachael Ray or Southern Living recommends, we can't have a child DYING on the floor from starvation, so we throw some burgers on the grill or (I have teenage boys) steaks under the broiler, and we go for easy to bake or microwave stuff that comes straight out of the freezer. I hate thinking about that. At least we recycle. We go through a lot of cardboard. I don't like thinking about that either, but I do. A lot. Again, I'm sure, more than most.

Last year I was thinking a lot about product packaging. I even wrote a post about it. Some companies are doing things differently now, probably driven more by cost than waste. Oreo, for example, took my advice (I have to think) and changed their packaging. There is far less waste now.

Okay, enough of this thinking about thinking, especially since it's lunch time and now Im thinking about food. It's funny how the mind works. It's amazing and definitely something to think about.

Now get back to work!

Some things are just for me.

2009-10-30T06:12:00.006-06:00

I don't have a lot of free time, but the free time I do have usually hits around 10 p.m. By that time my husband has been in bed asleep for an hour "watching the game" and my teenage sons are behind closed doors on the internet, studying, I'm sure. It's the perfect time for an exhausted mom to kick back on the couch, in the dark, and turn on the big screen to watch whatever is on BRAVO TV.

BRAVO, for those of you who are wasting your time over on Fox or some other Spews Channel, is where it's at. It is the perfect mindless, ridiculous, almost "oh my goodness I can't believe they do this with cameras watching, what are their friends, opponents going to think when they see THIS season train wreck?" of a line-up that TV has ever had. I L O V E it.

Rachel Zoe, Josh and Madison and Chad, the housewives, Patti at the Millionaire Matchmaker. I love it. Plus Top Chef,whatever is on BRAVO, I'll watch it. Late at night.

Truthfully the main reason I got hooked on BRAVO is I don't really know how to work a remote that well. So if I'm lucky enough to find a channel with something I want to watch, I just have to leave it there, through the commercials and all. My remote problems have to do with a combination of fading eyesight (the buttons are so small), complicated systems, the fact I like to watch TV in the dark late at night (see above), but mostly because at that time of evening there are no men in the room. The men in my house have controlled the remotes for 25 years. I've never had a chance to learn how to use one. So BRAVO is where it's at for me. It's my one guilty TV pleasure, and it's the only thing I watch.

But the point of my post...personal assistants. On all these BRAVO shows everyone has a personal assistant. As a publicist I have worked with people who have personal assistants. I wrote letters to the editor for a genius of a man who basically invented computers and at one point was acting much like a personal assistant for he and his wife as they worked toward building an Eco-Village in the hills west of Boulder. I've wanted a personal assistant -- the right personal assistant -- for a long time.

I've probably written about my experience hiring people before. If not, I know I should, because I have some funny stories. People you hire always come with a cast of characters -- their family members, friends, parole officers.

I hired an assistant once who was great. For a week. Then all her "characters" started showing up. I had an office suite at the time, and she brought her 90 year old mom to work, put her in the corner, then proceeded to spend a few hours hooking up a TV for her mom to watch. There is much more, but she lasted a couple months. Maybe five weeks.

The next one was great and could do anything PLUS had great ideas. But she wasn't available during the day. I felt guilty because she had to spend all sorts of money to upgrade her computer just to get EMAIL, and she was not nearly as computer literate as I would have liked. She also could only work for me at night or on weekends, and if there's any time I hate to work it's at night and on the weekends. She always wanted to come on Saturdays. By Saturday afternoon I've been to a 5 a.m. hockey practice, maybe a game, played tennis, and I'm ready for a nap, not work. Anyway, that didn't work.

Then there was the friend who closed his business and then told me he was going to work with me and create a position for himself. I said, Great, bring it on, but after one day in my office I think he realized it wasn't for him. Anyway, that didn't work.

Then there's Jess. I've known her for a while because she worked where I get my mail. She had taken a couple other part time assistant things around the lake, and it was working for her. She had time for a few hours a week for me, so I grabbed her. She's working out great. She's coming today. When she is here, things get done. Important things. She gets the job sheets filled out or (as in today) off the floor and organized and filed and prioritized by deadline. She gets all my work up on the white board. She will go through all the college materials and get deadlines together for my son's college apps. She will order me football tickets if I want her to.

Since I'm a writer, I can't write when someone else is in my office. Or I prefer not to, so Jess comes on the days when I'm calling clients and doing research or interviews or pitching. When I'm on the phone, she's master of my domain and gets things organized, filed and put away. She only stays a few hours, and when she's gone, I get back to writing.

The more she's around the more I realize how much I can get done with help. ORGANIZATIONAL help. I have design help and business partners and lots of people I share work with who HELP me. But they are doing work for my clients. The personal assistant seems the most valuable to ME though. At the risk of sounding selfish. She's MINE. I don't want her working for my clients. She works for me. My work involves a business and a family and how the two co-exist. If she was available more, I'd have her handling my son's party tomorrow too. Those things are part of MY job. A personal assistant CAN help with that stuff. There's lots to be done. Take this party...

Tomorrow is Halloween and my 14 year old son guilted me into letting him have some friends over because "there isn't anything for kids like us to do but get in trouble." So he's having some teens over "NOT for a Halloween party," but just for a party party.

Parties throw the household into a tizz and are somewhat outside the domain of a personal assistant. For this, I really need a housekeeper. Like Zoila: Jeff's housekeeper on Flipping Out. Love that show. Yes. I need a Zoila. She could clean the crust out of my son's bathroom sink and clean my house so it sparkles. She could go to the market and buy the stuff for the frito pie for the party, and make sure there's enough soda and candy and all that Halloween not Halloween stuff.

Yep. That would be nice. But for now I'll live vicariously through the people on BRAVO TV. I'll cherish the few hours I have with my own personal assistant. And if I'm really, REALLY lucky, my new assistant will teach me how to use the remote.

Please Give Generously to the American Cancer Society

2009-10-20T14:40:00.003-05:00

My sister-in-law Nancy Shaw, shown here with my two sons and her husband Jim, recently lost her 4-year battle with brain cancer. Cancer takes far too many far too young. I encourage everyone to give generously to the American Cancer Society so that wonderful, loving people like Nancy can live long, healthy lives.

In Memory of Nancy Kay Holubar Shaw, May 1, 1954 - October 17, 2009

Children of the Corn?

2009-09-24T08:50:00.004-05:00

I grew up in Iowa and even worked for Pioneer Seed Corn in the corn fields during the summers between my college years, but I have never seen corn like this. This photo was taken in Culver, Indiana on my uncle's farm. This field had the most amazingly TALL corn! I had to have my photo taken next to the field. If you are from the midwest, you understand how amazing this is. Keep in mind that I'm 5'9" tall, so this is VERY tall corn! I've never seen anything so healthy and green, although everything that we had out of the gardens in Indiana was also amazing -- tomatos, peppers. Living in Texas, I miss sights like this. There's not much that grows down here, and cotton just doesn't look this impressive. My aunt was telling me about a book she was reading about how corn really controls the world. With corn this tall, I can see how it could!

Put Yourself First First (sic)

2009-09-08T09:10:00.003-05:00

With September 1 being my personal New Year's Day, and a nice relaxing long weekend behind us, I'm planning to put into play a new focus and renewed energy today.

I've decided that my role is to make other people feel better, and to help other people succeed.
Through this, my personal success is achieved, and definitely multiplied.

However, the only way I can help other people is if I have my own act together. (Therein lies the dilemma on many a day.)

But today I'm going to do whatever I can to be a success at helping others. To do that requires a good cup of coffee (or two or three), a bit of exercise, some meditation, some prayer, some order (which involves a little cleaning), and some bill paying. (Designers and printers and magazines need to be paid!) After that I can focus on the other things that help my clients succeed: writing, media relations, research, radio shows, web sites, trade show ideas...
-----
I love this time of year. The long hot summer is about over, and people are doing what they can to jump start new ideas and new initiatives. The economy is sputtering along, but people are starting to realize they have to do things differently than before, and I'm fortunate that for me that means the chance to do a lot of new work.

Life can be very good. You just have to be happy with what you encounter every day and enjoy it to its fullest. Quit wishing you were doing something else. You're not. Just do what you're doing the best you can.

That's what I'm trying to do.

Life Happens

2009-09-02T08:36:00.003-05:00

In the last 90 days, within my family, there has been a wedding, a divorce, a death, and a birth. We are also praying for a family member with advanced cancer, helping a family member who broke her ankle, and comforting a teenager whose first love broke it off two weeks into school. There's definitely a lot going on.

The range of emotions required to deal with my life at this stage of the game is intense. I'm lucky, I guess, because it's not my first time dealing with the realities and imperfections of life. I've been wearing the big girl pants for quite a while now. It's almost sad, because at this point in my life, nothing really rattles me. It's almost as if I've been through most of it anyway, so bring it on. I'm not afraid.

One thing I've also learned through all of the last few weeks is that you never ever ever know what someone on the other end of the phone or email line is dealing with. They too may be dealing with family issues, illness, or the death of a parent or a marriage. We tend to think that it's all about us. Someone doesn't return our call, and we think, "What did I do to her?" Someone doesn't return an email and we think, "They don't want to deal with me."

The truth, I believe, is that everyone is involved in complex situations all the time. You never know what people are dealing with. None of my clients probably realize that I'm crippled on a particular day with pain or heartache. I don't tell them. I figure it's really not anything they'd care to know or that impacts what I do for them. If it does, I'll let them know.

So on the flip side, now when I deal with people I am going to do my best to just assume that their lives are in tatters and that the one interaction that day that makes them happy or helps them laugh just might be me.

That's my goal. And for those of you who read this and feel like you can make me smile, bring it on. We can all use a little uplifting, not just now and then, but every single day of our lives.

Business is Booming (well, almost)

2009-08-13T16:46:00.004-05:00

Every once in a while I get in the mood to remind my clients that I'm still around. In my business, that's actually a pretty good thing to do. Agencies come and go. Consultants (like me) get tired of the cash flow ebbs and tides and decide they'd rather have a job. I'm a little different, I suppose. I haven't had a "real job" in more than a dozen years. I've been through up cycles and down cycles in the economy, as well as the dog days of summer when you can't get anyone on the phone, but nothing in my self employed life has been as bad as the things I experienced in the corporate world.

Most people say they want the "security" of a corporate job. They want a paycheck every two weeks. I'd like that too, but I don't buy the security bit. I spent 12 years in corporate America, and I didn't see a whole lot of security going on. Sure, it was nice to get a steady paycheck and an annual bonus just for showing up. But I knew people that made a game out of seeing how long they could go without actually doing any work. Sometimes it could be months, if not years! Then there were the people who worked really hard, but they made someone higher up nervous or said the wrong thing at the holiday party and got sacked. Corporate just never made that much sense to me.

So because I don't ever want to have to go get another "real job," every few months I feel the need to send something out to my growing list of satisifed clients. Contrary to popular belief, a client is not just the person you're working with today. Clients are the people you worked with last month, last year, even last decade. If you treat them right, there's always a chance they'll come back. In my experience, they usually do.

In my line of work, you have to do things in advance of when you need it. If you want to be in a magazine in December, you better contact them in June. If you are expecting business to pick up in January, you need to increase production in October. The same goes for when business slows down, which it usually does just briefly for me around this time of year.

The good news is this is a great time of year to be a little slow. It's Texas and it's hot as Hades outside. I don't want to be pulling on panty hose and driving to the city. I want to come to work in my shorts and flip flops and maybe take off at 3 and lay by the pool. I want to play tennis in the morning while it's cool, or stay up late and watch a movie with my kids. Summer is a great time.

But summer ends and everyone has to get back to work. This year, we're waiting for the long summer called RECESSION to end and for everyone to get back to work. I've managed to stay busy during this time, and my clients -- knock wood -- are doing well. Perhaps it's because they didn't cut back on their marketing or PR and instead took advantage of having more space available in the papers for their news or fewer ads in the magazines which helped them stand out. Thats a good thing.

As summer winds down, I'm ready to jump back in with both feet. I'm hoping the dozens of clients I've had the privilege of working with through the years feel the same way. I think we're in for some real growth ahead. I know my business is preparing for it. I'm staffing up, cleaning up, and getting ready for 2010. Okay, it's still four and a half months away, but if you don't plan ahead, you won't be ready. Get ready. Business is about to boom for all of us. I can feel it!

2009-08-04T13:25:00.003-05:00

It's hard to believe it's almost hockey season again. Probably because hockey never stops at my house. We're in the middle of summer league -- 4 on 4, no checking, no icing, no offsides, no clock stops...it's an interesting chance for the kids to play the game a little differently and maybe learn some new skills. I've enjoyed watching this version of hockey. Since my son's a big kid, taking the "check" out of the game is challenging for him. It's been fun to watch.

But "real" hockey season kicks off in earnest later this month. Fees must be paid, those early morning practices begin, and in my son's case, he enters his senior year and his last year of high school hockey. As for me, I'm going to use this inspiration to try to get a little new business. This ad may begin running in Ice Times this month (on a space available basis). I proofread the columns each month pro bono, and this week the publisher offered me an ad. (The HP logo indicates to other hockey parents that I'm a hockey parent. It's the magazine's way of taking care of its own.)

I'll report here if this leads to new business. The rinks themselves could sure use the help!

You know your Mom has made it when...

2009-07-20T09:57:00.003-05:00

I have to laugh at my mother. Over the last ten years as she's settled into her retirement at Cedar Creek Lake she's become very involved in several clubs and organizations. She has a club for every day of the week. Literary Club, Garden Club, Civic League, Women's Club, Years Ahead Club, Friends of the Library, United Methodist Women, Joker groups...it's hard for me to keep track, but there's always a luncheon or meeting or event somewhere.

Influenced in part (I'd like to think) by the fact that I moved to the lake ten years ago and Mom had better access to what I do and how I do it, she gravitated into a PR role with many of these organizations. I used to help her with some articles, press releases and flyers, and I know I gave her the addresses and taught her how to attach photos and press releases to emails for our two weekly newspapers. She's a fast learner (National Honor Society in High School, graduated from college with honors too), and once I showed her how to do something on the computer or with her camera, she was off.

My mom's busy career as a club member and officer is inspiring. She does a lot of good for the community and gets to go out to lunch a lot. She's made great friends, and she's created herself a very nice life. I don't get the local papers, but Mom does, and her picture is always in them. I used to buy a newspaper when she told me she was in it. But they really started to pile up. It's a little ridiculous, and I'm not organized enough for scrap booking.

But today sort of topped it. This morning among my emails was one from Mom. It was one of her usual "FYI I'm headed to ..." We like to know when she's out of town, and she's even started calling me to tell me when she's driving up to Dallas. She's a young 70 and can take care of herself, but it's good to know when she's going some place. This morning she reported she was heading on an overnight trip to a casino in Louisiana. The funny thing was, it was addressed to my brother, my sister, myself, and -- I'm not kidding -- the local newspaper.

I don't know if that was a mistake (I hope so) or if this means this trip will make it into the paper. I don't know if she really thinks the paper cares? Nonetheless, my mom's promotional efforts have moved to a new level. I guess she's finally made it.

Next thing you know I'm going to have to follow her on Twitter. What a way to start the week. Enjoy!

The Guys from Extreme How-To Love Aurora Deck Lights

2009-07-15T12:58:00.005-05:00

OutreachPR client Aurora Deck Lighting makes some great outdoor lighting products. In this video, the editor of Extreme How-To Magazine shows how to install some low voltage deck lights on an existing deck. This video is an excellent example of how magazines are reaching out to their readers with multi-media, linked to websites, and blogs.

Your Three Words - Good Morning America

2009-07-06T17:49:00.008-05:00

My cousin Alexa Sears sent in three words to Good Morning America and was featured on their "Your Three Words" weekly recap. She's about mid-way through the video with her three words being: "No More Braces," and boy does she look gorgeous!

In case you're wondering, yes, this 16-year old is my first cousin. We share a grandmother. My dad was the oldest of five, and Alexa's mom Susan was the youngest. There is about 22 years between the two, so Alexa's parents -- my aunt and uncle -- are less than five years older than I, and my son Tanner is a year older than my cousin Alexa...

It was confusing for all our kids when they were younger, but I think they've figured it out now.

Here Comes the Bride! Congratulations Haley and Patrick

2009-06-19T12:07:00.003-05:00

Weddings are so fun. Sorry for the shaky quality of this video. I'm no videographer, but since I was in the back row and had a great view, I couldn't resist.

The Texas Contingent with Grandma/Great Grandma Boswell

2009-06-14T08:20:00.002-05:00

We just got home -- literally -- from a great week on Kiawah Island in South Carolina. My cousin Patrick got married on Saturday, June 13, in what had to be one of the most beautiful events I've ever been to. We were away for 8 days. It was a road trip that included things like a ghost tour in a hearse in Savannah, GA, several days on the beach on the island, a day seeing historic sites in Charleston, SC, and most importantly, time spent with the Boswell side of my family, including my grandmother, Esther Boswell. The highlight of my trip (besides the wedding) was being with Grandma. She showed me how to knit -- something I've been trying to learn on my own off and for a couple of years. And I think she enjoyed the experience as much as I did. Anyway, the photos below and to the left are from the wedding. It was incredible, especially spending time with my family shown here. When I can figure out a better way to post these photos, I will. It's good to be home. Tomorrow it's back to work. But it's been a great 8 days. I feel truly blessed.

Congratulations Patrick and Haley Boswell!

2009-06-14T07:49:00.000-05:00

Check out my article in Extreme How-To!

2009-05-28T14:40:00.003-05:00

The current issue of Extreme How-To Magazine (available at Home Depot, Barnes & Noble, all over the place) includes an article by moi called Bright Ideas for Deck Lights (see the cover). The story was written to showcase the products available from Aurora Deck Lighting, but it's a good over view of deck lighting (solar, low voltage, wired, unwired) -- truly everything you need to know. If you are interested in turning your outdoor living enviornment into a place you can use at night as well as during the day, check out Aurora's products, and be sure to tell them you heard about them from Extreme How-To magazine and the article by Connie Jean Holubar!

My future home

2009-05-27T10:11:00.001-05:00

Discovering the line you won't cross.

2009-04-21T08:17:00.002-05:00

As a writer I've done a lot of projects that were a struggle to do. Not because of the work itself, but because of the content. I worked for an ad agency in Dallas that had a client list that made people yawn. I could literally see them zone out about two clients into my list as soon as they had asked "Who are your clients?" My own mother once told me she guessed that I must be good at promoting boring things. I had never looked at it that way, but I guess she was right, because I've had a successful career.

When I started doing "my own thing" again here in Texas I decided I would focus in on areas of interest to me. It helped that I had a good customer base of clients who had hired me for my expertise in certain things (initially crisis communication, then economic development, then media relations and PR, and now I guess because I'm cheap). Long story short, I've always had the "luxury" of working for people I want to work for doing things I want to do. The few times that I've lost a plum assignment working for someone I really liked, I've grieved. I like my work.

Over the years and through the economic ups and downs, I've adjusted my business strategy and philosophy as needed. A few years ago I decided I would not work with people I didn't like, no matter how good the money or how interesting the product or service. About a year ago I amended that rule (economy and all), as long as the pay was good and needed, but I still am careful what I work on.

More importantly, perhaps, in the internet age than liking the client is having a sincere interest in their product or service and in having a desire to do what Jesus would do and help them out, no matter how much I like or dislike them individually.

Based on that measure, I've fired only a few clients who didn't deserve that treatment, who didn't treat me with the same kindness, but for the most part I have had the privilege of helping a lot of people, and I feel good at the end of the day. I price my services fairly, I give a fair days work -- more than a fair day's work, often to the point of not making much money on something at all -- but I do it because it helps someone.

Today I met the point where there was a definite line in the sand. I had been alerted as I am every day to a dozen or more jobs posted on a service to which I subscribe, and which, in all honesty, brings me in a not unhappy piece of revenue on an annual basis.

I usually find one or two things on this service every week or so that make sense for me or that I want to do, sometimes because they offer a unique challenge or because it gives me a chance to learn about something interesting. But today I found one that I considered for just a moment, but then clicked away, both saddened and disgusted, and energized to write this post.

I will not, I found out, take on the challenge of assisting with a grassroots campaign to sell an ointment that cures foot fungus. That's where I draw the line. I realize that ten million people suffer from foot fungus, which I assume is a rotting, icky thing that I've seen portrayed on TV by a nasty cartoon character (shown lifting up the big toenail and jumping inside with his nasty friends). You've see the ad. It's nasty. Anyway, two people have already bid on the foot fungus job, and so they obviously need that work worse than I.

So I'll return to the pile of work I do have and quit looking for more. That should make my current clients happy, since most are waiting for me to deliver something or call them or call someone on their behalf.

I return to my work knowing that I do have choices with what I do, and today writing about a company's marketing campaign, writing a few press releases, and calling a few clients and their customers for interviews to write a feature story will have to fill my need to do something productive. I don't have any new business to work on today, but I have lots of old business, for some really great people who have businesses that are doing well if not thriving in this economy.

This little exercise this morning also has given me another reason to be thankful. Not only is the sun shining with promise of the most beautiful day of the year thus far, but I, thank the dear Lord, do not have foot fungus.

Family Vacations

2009-03-16T19:23:00.003-06:00

So far we are having a great time on our spring break trip. We saw the space shuttle Discovery launch yesterday and today we took an airboat ride in a real Florida swamp -- Boggy Creek.

Sure, we're five miles from Disney World, but we've been there, done that. Today was supposed to be a theme park day, and the kids had agreed on Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure. But instead we slept in a little late and weren't really moving too fast today. So we opted for a lower key experience.

I had been on an airboat ride in Florida when I was a kid. It was somewhere west of Fort Myers in the Everglades. But the rest of my family had never been. I can't say anyone was too excited, but it was an easy 20 minute drive south of Orlando on a country road, and it was well worth the trip.

My favorite parts of Florida are not the theme parks. I don't like spending several hundred dollars in one day to stand in line. It was fun when the kids were smaller and they got so much out of it, and our family is a pretty patient group, but now I have teens. That makes it more of a challenge.

So we come to Florida and do different things. We'll go over to the beach (that's free), and we'll find a cool go-cart track. There's tennis here, and that's great. We played bingo this afternoon. (Yesterday we watched; today I wanted to play. We played four games for pots of money that ranged from just over $100 to $250. That's worth sitting an hour for, and it's worth the $6 it cost me to play. I didn't win, but I met Shirley and Larry from Pittsburg. It was fun.

We've only been here a couple days, and the vacation hasn't been perfect. I try not to let it hurt my feelings that my 14 year old told me, "I didn't come all this way to hang out with you." But it also was nice when, given the chance, the kids did not want to go to Universal Studios today by themselves.

Seeing the space shuttle launch was especially cool. We didn't drive to the coast as we'd originally planned because we were going to combine it with a beach visit, and the news said high rip tides made swimming hazardous. I didn't want to listen to the kids whine about going over there and not being able to swim, so we stayed here. It was fine though, because we scouted out a spot at the edge of the resort, over a lake, with a clear horizon. We gathered there with dozens of other families and my son took video. It will be up on YouTube when we get home and I'll link it here.

More to come from Kissimmee, Florida. Tomorrow we're going to try to get up early to hit a bucket of balls on the driving range and play some tennis. Tomorrow night we'll go see a spring training game: Atlanta Braves and NY Mets. Vacations in Orlando, even when you've outgrown Mickey, are worth the trip.

Family Dinners are Fun!

2009-03-12T07:03:00.002-06:00

Our family helped my mother celebrate her 70th birthday on March 5 with a trip to Benihana in Dallas. If you haven't been to Benihana lately, you really should make a point of going soon. It can be pretty pricey, so be prepared for meals in the $30 - $50 per person price range,plus tip, depending on drinks, appetizers, sushi, etc., but the experience is well worth it. Even our three teenage boys had fun and THANKED us for taking them there. My mom and sister even tried their first sushi (well psuedo-sushi). Personally I liked the Mango Sakitini best. (And I could do without the green tea ice cream...ick.)

From left, bottom, my big brother Bob, my sister-in-law Amy, my mother, me, my husband, Mark. Top left, my son Tanner (16), my nephew Bret (14), my son Dylan (14), and my sister Kathleen.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Out of the mouths of babes...

2009-03-04T11:03:00.011-06:00

We all know kids say the darndest things. They ask questions, and as parents we're supposed to answer them because it's our job to be their first and most important teacher.

Yesterday, as I burned the morning toast for the second time in as many weeks, my 14 year old looked at me and with a pensive, serious, almost concerned expression on his face he asked, perhaps more rhetorically than to me, "Why do they put a setting on a toaster that burns the toast?"

As the search engine in my brain took off in a slightly foggy, early morning quest for the answer, it bogged down. I couldn't answer. I didn't know what to say. Within a split second my brain processor had eliminated "To toast other things that require higher settings," because there was nothing I could think of that you toasted on the highest settings of a toaster.

I also had eliminated the response "For the bagels," quickly realizing that bagels require an even lower setting because otherwise the edges burn. Pop tarts require lower...

Holy Cow. Dylan had asked a question to which I was stumped. "Why does a toaster have a setting that burns toast?"

It's not the first time I couldn't answer a question, but usually the questions I can't answer revolve around school subjects like Texas History, of which as a non-Texan I've been spared, or algebra, or kid needs like how to string a guitar or reinstall XP. Usually when it comes to basic kitchen appliances I am master of my domain.

So what is the answer? Why is there such a high setting on a toaster? Did a design team in some factory decide to add hotter settings just because they could? Did a marketing person suggest "more settings" as a way to get ahead of the competition and provide more fodder for bullet points in an ad? Did an executive devise the idea as a way to raise prices? Is it a conspiracy between bread manufacturers and toaster producers, perhaps combined with the power companies and big oil to get us to use more energy, burn bread thus increasing the rate at which a loaf is consumed...are the farmers and the grocery stores and the bakeries all in on this?

Or is this just a symbol of the waste that has been occuring in America as we add bells and whistles and heat settings to appliances that no one needs but that require more materials to provide thus more jobs and more expense and the resulting ability to charge consumers more money for the same old thing?

I don't know. If you think about it too hard it makes your head hurt. I'm sure my son forgot his question and hasn't given it another thought. I on the other hand have been pondering it off an on for about 28 hours now. Subconsciously, but still.

Out there somewhere is the guy (I'm guessing) who designed my GE Bagel Switch 4 Slice Toaster. He (or she) knows why there is a setting on a toaster that burns toast. He or she probably also knows what cooks in a toaster on the highest setting. If anything.

Jack Welch probably knows the answer. I don't know the answer. I'd like to know why my toaster has a setting on it that burns toast. Does this make sense? To anyone? Can something be done about this? Is there a watchdog group out there that needs a cause? Why hasn't Congress brought in witnesses? Why hasn't this issue been raised before...

I for one plan to use this newly acquired realization to remain above the influence. I plan to keep my toaster set conservatively on 6. I suggest, dear reader, that you heed my advice and do the same.

Valentines is over, so what do I do with the box?

2009-02-18T09:59:00.002-06:00

My spouse thoughtfully gave me the traditional heart shaped box of Russell Stover chocolates. Although the chocolates were gone by weekend's end, the box has been laying around. Today I picked it up with plans to get it off my kitchen counter, but now it's on my desk, here by my computer, because I can't decide what to do with it.

I recycle just about everything. From cat food cans to plastic milk jugs, soda cans to Lean Cuisine boxes, if it's paper, plastic, aluminum or tin, I have a container for it and a recycling center down the road that will take it.

But what about this heart shaped box? It's really too pretty to throw away. It has Russell Stover's name stamped into it, so it's not really good for decorative purposes, I of course won't throw it away, but it's really too pretty for the recycle pile. I'm in a quandary. I really don't know what to do.

If anyone out there has a creative use for a heart-shaped box, let me know what it is. I did a quick search on Google looking for ideas, but to no avail. I can't be the only person with this problem. In past years I've received chocolates, so I must have gotten rid of the box one way or another. I don't have a stockpile of these boxes in a closet or on a shelf. But I can't imagine myself throwing them away either.

WHAT DO YOU DO WITH THE HEART SHAPED BOX WHEN THE CANDY IS ALL GONE???

Something Good About George Bush

2009-02-04T09:20:00.002-06:00

People who know me will see the title of this post and wonder. But I finally have come up with something good about George Bush: He made us laugh. (Click on the photo to the left for a link to a great compilation of some of W's brightest moments.)

Yes, laughter is good. Although with Mr. Bush that laughter was quickly followed by the nervous twitter of realizing he was the leader of the free world. Usually that led to complete and utter embarassment --at least for me, and it should for our nation. But George Bush fueled the comedy of our nation and the world more than any president in history. He made us laugh more. Okay it was at him, not with him, but laughter is still good.

I'll miss him for that. But I'm really glad he doesn't have to try to be our president any more. I don't think he was cut out for that job. I'd like to see him buy another baseball team or something. I'd even love it if he bought a lake house down here and a nice bass boat. He could come down to get away from the city and hang with the weekenders at Don's Port Marina or the locals at Cedar Isle.

Enjoy your retirement, Mr. Bush. I'm very, very happy for you.

Ice Storm Schmice Storm

2009-01-28T08:01:00.003-06:00

I don't watch a lot of television news, but when bad weather occurs, you have to watch. Since we live an hour away from the city, it can be fine where we are but deadly treacherous in Dallas. Since some teachers drive from quite a distance, our schools are often delayed and even closed when the weather "elsewhere" is bad. Thus is the case today.

The big ice storm of '09 is upon us, but not really. News reporters in Dallas and Fort Worth have dug out their cutest winter head gear to stand in the intersection of some major highway to tell you that it's slick out. There isn't much traffic on the roads, Dallas looks to be closed, and my husband just stayed home. With the economy the way it is he isn't overwhelmed at work. Since the company is in Dallas, they may close for the day or at least delay opening anyway. He's been there ten years. He has days off he can take. So be it.

Of course I have to work. There is no such thing as unable to get to work when your office is in your house. It also means I'll have to make breakfast later than usual and maybe take the kids to school when they start at 10. The bridges and overpasses will be icy, and my 16 year old has no experience with that sort of thing. (There are several bridges over a lake before you get to the high school from here.) On the other hand, he has to learn.

I don't like unexpected weather patterns. I don't like having three people "at work with me" unscheduled. These people know me as Mom and Wife, and they are used to talking to me and having me do things for them. Between 8 a.m. and 4 p.m., I don't like to be Mom or Wife. I have work to do.

Ice Storm, Schmice Storm. The weather is fine where I am. I'm a little worried about my iris and Cana bulbs that have sprouted in the last week. My tropicals and palms that are in the ground are not looking too good either. (But neither are the pots of palms and other plants that got brought in for the winter. I just do not have a green thumb.)

But I digress, which is what happens when there are people home who should be at school and work, and when the reporters on TV are making a big deal out of a little ice. But it is a big deal in Dallas. We don't get ice often. People don't know anything about it. Pick-ups do horribly on ice, fishtailing everywhere, and everyone drives pick-ups. I even heard some idiot say, "At least I have four wheel drive." As if that would help! I lived in Colorado for 15 years and we had four wheel drive. It's great for snow or mud or going through streams or up mountains, but on ice it's like having four wheels out of control.

My husband tried something he saw on the news. The dumbest thing I've seen today. He put a cardboard pizza box over his windshield so he wouldn't have to scrape the ice off. I was out this morning doing a "weather check" in time to see him trying to get the pizza box off his windshield. Yes, it was stuck. I wonder how many viewers were dumb enough to try the same thing? And how many are sorry they did today. Once when I was in college I saw on the Dallas news that you could pour a pitcher of water on your windshield and melt the ice off if you didn't have a scraper. I did that with a steaming pitcher of water and my entire windshield cracked, costing me several hundred dollars. These people haven't got a clue!

My kids are getting ready to go to school. My husband thinks he'll take the day off. We've been painting, and he can finish one of the areas. Of course it's part of my office. He says he can do it without disturbing me. I doubt that very, very, very much.

Ice storm, schmice storm. What do they do in other parts of the world? Up north people can't possibly stay home everytime the weather is bad. I suppose that because people down here don't have proper coats or gloves or even ice scrapers, we have to shut everything down. But come on people. How is anyone supposed to get any work done when the city shuts down and my husband stays home. Do you know how easy it is to get me off task? Do you know how much I enjoy a day alone with my spouse, and how rare those days are? I have lunch plans and conference calls....this changes everything. Can we reschedule this storm for next week? I'm just too busy this week.

Is Today Sunday?

2009-01-02T07:26:00.004-06:00

My kids have been home since December 23 nearly full time. My spouse has been home since December 24 full time. I have had plenty of time off. I have had a lovely, low key, stress free holiday season, with lots of laughs and plenty of family time. Holiday decorations have been put away. My house is clean, the laundry is done. Even the cats have adjusted and have started sleeping in. This has to be about over.

Don't get me wrong. No one loves vacation more than I. But now the entitlement of it all is starting to wear thin.

My mother will tell you that I have spoiled my boys rotten. I always figured it was my job as mother (and a privilege for me -- a source of pride too) to make my children a warm breakfast. I have made breakfast for my kids for 16 years. As teens they are becoming easier and often want just cereal, which they can get themselves. When it comes to lunch, they can make their own sandwiches but don't. I don't mind making lunch, figuring it saves me money if they aren't wholesale raiding my refrigerator every few hours. But having them home means there's been little time for much else between "feedings."

Meal time has been especially dictated by the incredible poison ivy rash that my youngest, who is severely allergic to poison ivy, decided to get for the holidays. His three times daily regimen of cortizone steroid medication requires food, so I've been a short order cook for a week.

The poison ivy episode itself was an ordeal. The weather has been nice. Dylan and his friends have been building a course for playing with their (I'm told) relatively harmless airsoft guns. On Sunday, Dylan's rash appeared, the itching kept him awake overnight, and by Monday his right eye was nearly swollen shut. After applying every home remedy on the internet (with some short-lived success) throughout the morning, we knew he needed a shot, so I took him to the doctor. Anyway, after a big shot of steroids in his butt he got immediate relief, but he needs meds with food three times a day.

That was five days ago. Since then I've made sure that he has taken his medication three times a day with food. If you can imagine how much time in the day that takes up, you can understand my growing excitement about returning to work, kids returning to school, and life returning to "normal."

The point of this post is that this has been a really good break for me. But it's starting to wear thin.

Yesterday I had a melt down over a movie the boys rented, which disapated into a melt-down about everything to do with them on that particular day. I was relaxing, having spent DAYS doing laundry and the day taking down Christmas decorations and cleaning., putting things back to normal and rearranging things a bit. I was sitting on the couch doing a Sudoku (Santa brought it) when the boys came in from town.

They were carrying fast food drinks and a new horn for the golf cart (honk honk). My boys are funny. They are small town kids, and there really isn't much to do here. They find their fun at WalMart (buying silly things like a horn for the golf cart), and they even enjoy going through the new carwash. Last week my oldest showed me a video he'd taken on his phone of the new car wash. "You took my car through the car wash?" I asked, "Twice," he had answered. "Twice?" I'd asked laughing before adding, "What a waste of money." "It's fun, and besides, Stephen paid," he'd said. "Oh," I'd said, thinking "at least I didn't pay for it." Our neighbors have small town kids too, and they're all loaded up with Christmas money. I guess if one of the neighbor boys wants to pay to go through the carwash for fun and they are in my car, I shouldn't complain. It's pretty funny stuff.

Anyway, you can understand how the kids are getting bored too. You can only go to WalMart and go through the car wash or to the movies or to the burger joint so many times before you are truly bored. That's why they had gone to rent some movies.

So back to this movie: I was sitting on the couch. I never watched it, per say, because I was trying to do a Sudoku, but from the moment it began until the moment when I said, "That's enough, turn it off," I heard nothing but fowl language. It wasn't funny. It was awful. I wasn't watching, but I could hear my husband commenting from behind me about the violence, blood and gore. Before "losing it" and demanding that the thing be turned off, I had been told by my children in response to my exhaltations of disgust, "If you don't like it, go to another room," and "You aren't watching it anyway so don't worry about it," and other disrespectful things.

Anyway, long story short, the movie (a Ben Stiller movie called Tribal Thunder) did not get watched and today I am going to try to take it back to Blockbuster to find out why they allowed kids under 17 to rent a movie rated R, and I'm going to try to get credit put back on my kid's gift card. I can be really calm about this, and I can only try. That movie was nuts though. I'm thoroughly disgusted with Ben Stiller's choice there. I don't know where I lost control of the boundaries with my children, but the fact that they thought they could bring that into my house and play it on the TV in my living room while I'm sitting on the couch relaxing and enjoying some down time, is beyond me. But they learned yesterday that there is a line, and that movie crossed it. My oldest even agreed. My youngest, I was appalled to hear, had already seen the movie at the theatre -- a 14 year old with his 13 year old "date!" What is this world coming to?

So the movie incident led me to the money wasting of buying $14 worth of fast food at 4 in the afternoon (when they would want dinner in two hours anyway) and buying a horn for the golf cart. Spend, spend, spend. I haven't even checked to see if they also washed my car.

It's definitely time for me to get back to work and for the kids to go back to what they do. I have enjoyed having my husband around, although if was around a lot I'd have to buy him a computer and add on another office because he has been on my computer and in my office a lot. There's good reason. He has been helping my son try to fix his XBox. This in itself has been a ten day ordeal that has involved something expensive and electronic being taken apart on my conference table, new tools were purchased, special trips to Dallas for salves and gadgetry were made, as well as two trips to Lowes for nylon then rubber washers the right size. They thought they fixed it yesterday, twice, but to no avail. Now they are looking to buy another broken Xbox off ebay to get the part they need to fix it...I'm not sure I get it, but it's their business. All these activities require a computer so they could watch "how to" videos on You Tube and find locations for stores to buy what they needed, and because I thought the experience was excellent for my son, I allowed it to take place and did laundry instead. Now it really is getting to be time for me to get back to work, and it's about time to get that stuff off my conference table. I haven't said anything yet though.

The problem with a long holiday vacation is that, while at the start of the vacation every day feels like Friday, toward the end every day feels like it should be Sunday. I'm not particularly fond of Sundays. They always have the aura of "Bummer, the weekend is over" combined with "I have so much to do tomorrow." I guess that's why God invented church. Maybe if you go to church on Sunday morning you are thankful for the weekend you had and the job you are returning to. I think I need church every day.

Oh well, it's been a great break...are we going back to school and work now...no, not quite yet, but I've just been informed everyone IS hungry.

Holiday "Arts" Fest

2008-12-29T10:28:00.003-06:00

With Christmas behind us, I am patting myself on the back for successfully "low keying" it a bit this year. Despite that, I still have several presents lying around that need to be put away, and there is at least one thing in need of exchanging or returning, but other than that, Christmas is over. Hurray.

My favorite thing about this Christmas was a couple of activities I did that really lifted my spirits. They were those "once a year" or "once every few years" things you do that make you feel like you've experienced at least something special.

My mother and I went to see the Texas Ballet Theatre on Friday afternoon for their presentation of The Nutcracker. Despite my early dismay at realizing there was no orchestra (what kind of big city ballet dances to tape?), the quality of the sets, the dancers, and the costumes made me forget all about it. The Texas Ballet Theatre company is good. Darn good. The choreography was the classic choreography, but these dancers took it to its limits. I found the entire production to be very good. In fact, there are parts of the music that, when combined with the grace and beauty of the dancers, moved me to tears.

I have a bit of history with the Nutcracker. In Boulder I was on the board of the Boulder Ballet for many years, and I was the president of the ballet for a couple of those. I know more about the business of ballet -- fundraising, budgets, dealing with artistic personnel - than about the art of ballet, but I know more about that than most too, I suppose.

My time with the Boulder Ballet was more than a decade ago, but seeing the Nutcracker brought it all back. I really enjoyed being involved with the "project" side of putting on a big production. Ours was big too, and quite a logistical exercise. We did it at Thanksgiving time so that we could rent sets from bigger companies and get them back before they needed them, hire principal dancers from other ballets during their "vacation time," and use university dancers before they left for Chrismtas as part of our company. But even in Boulder, we had a real orchestra -- the Boulder Philharmonic, in fact, which eventually, as part of our maneuvers as a board (but after I was long gone) merged with our little ballet company. There may be a story behind why there was no orchestra in Dallas. In fact there was an "In memory of" section dedicated to a conductor, so I suppose he died suddenly and there was no one to replace him, and as I said, the show went on gloriously. It was a real treat.

On Sunday, my oldest woke up and asked "What are we doing today?" Having no formal plans, he suggested going to the Dallas Art Museum to see the King Tut exhibition. He has been talking about this for a few weeks, ever since his art teacher taught his Art I class about the ancient Egyptians and they studied ancient Egyptian art forms.

So because number one gets whatever he wants, and number two and spouse had no desire to go to the art museum, I took my son to see the King Tut exhibit yesterday.

I'm so glad I did.

In 1922, a group of archeologists who were already clearing out pharoahs tombs in the Valley of the Kings stumbled (literally) over the entrance to young King Tut's tomb. From the photos of the discovery it looked not unlike a storage unit full of stuff you have no room for in your house. Once removed, catalogued, identified, and cleaned (where needed) it was a treasure trove of possessions owned by a boy king.

We saw Tut's "game system" (a game board with two games, drawers for the pieces, and everything in tact), we saw his mallard-shaped cosmetic case (this was Egypt and he was royalty, so yes, he wore heavy eye liner and make-up), and we saw the coffin that his liver had been buried in. We saw the five gold treasures -- a necklace, a daggar and sheath, a headress, a couple others I can't recall -- that were among the more than 100 pieces of jewelry that were wrapped into the different layers of his mummy.

We saw gallery after gallery of ancient artifacts and treasures -- from Tut's grandparents tombs and from his own. We saw treasures that belonged to his father, also a king, and to his father's "main" wife, who was King Tut's mother-in-law. Yes, King Tut married his half sister, the daughter of his father's other wife, at the age of nine. At some point during his life he and his wife had two still born children, whose mummified remains were found in golden splendor with tiny baby death masks inside the King's tomb.

There is speculation that the tomb was never intended to be a King's tomb. Perhaps it was for the babies alone, but with Tut's sudden and unexpected death, they had to put him somewhere. The good news is that the treasures were preserved because grave robbers, who destroyed so much of ancient Egypt during the last 3200 years, never found the site.

The story of King Tut is amazing. It continues too, as a 2005 cat scan revealed no evidence of foul play, even though King Tut died mysteriously and quickly at the young age of 19.

I could go on about Tut, but just let it suffice to say that this exhibition was worth seeing. It's the same one that has been in and out off the U.S. over the last 20 or 30 years, but this was the first chance I've had to get to it.

The Dallas Art Museum has lots of other treasures. We spent a few minutes in the art galleries upstairs where we saw a Picasso and a couple Monets, a Renoir sketch and full painting, some beautiful works by Camille Pissaro, Rodin statues, and even a Van Gogh. We also saw some Mondrian paintings, which were interesting to me since I've worked with designers on Mondrian style brochures before.

My son loved the King Tut exhibition. We both had the audio tour, and that's the only way to go. Otherwise there is too much reading and not enough information anyway. It also makes it a self-directed tour, and it allows you to get the most from what's there.

Yes, I had some nice holiday events. Give me a ticket to the art museum or ballet for Christmas any year. I'm very thankful of having a big city nearby that offers these types of things. It's really nice to step out of your element into a world that is so much bigger or more beautiful than your own. Ballet, golden treasures, and art. Ahhhhhh. A perfect Christmas.

How to Get Out of Doing Favors for Your Kids

2008-12-17T13:13:00.002-06:00

In the interest of passing along my ever-growing knowledge of child-rearing, I have a lesson for today. It's "How to Get Out of Doing Favors for Your Kids."

This morning my 14-year old asked if I would bring him Burger King for lunch. This is a once or twice a year affair, usually during final exam week, which this is. Being the wonderful mother I am, and knowing that I had no meetings and would be home working all day and could probably use a break around noon, I agreed.

My morning went in the fashion that is typical of a successful publicist's high-powered office. It was shear chaos. From the time I got up until just before noon things were crazy. Good crazy, but crazy all the same. See, if you do your job right, putting out a press release (itself a time consuming and arduous processs of meetings, writing, editing, approvals, and pitching) is just the first part of the work. The money work comes when editors call, reporters e-mail, interviews are needed, and everyone is on deadline. Thus went my morning. Great hit with a major target newspaper, interviews happened yesterday, photos are happening today. All is well. But busy.

At precisely 12:20 I grabbed my keys, my wallet and my phone and headed to Burger King with an ETA at the junior high mandated as 12:55. My son had taken it upon himself to remind me of my task around an hour earlier. That's something he's learned to do since he knows how crazy my office can be. In his text he gave me his order: "Quad stacker, no sauce, add ketchup and mustard, large fries, large Coke." Even though it's the same order he's had since he graduated from "Double cheeseburger no pickle," he at least knows enough about me to feel a refresher course is necessary.

No sooner had I got on the road than I realized the roads were slick. Black ice here in Texas, especially over bridges. Since I have to cross several bridges over the lake to get to town, I slowed down to a comfortable speed, knowing as I did that my schedule would be all off due to weather. That was something my 14-year old would certainly not understand.

As I made it safely into town I realized I'd forgotten about the construction, yet my target location required that I go through the major road work area. I bit my lip and knew that traffic was another reason that didn't get me any understanding from my son. I've tried that before.

Once through the traffic snarls of the construction zone, I began multi-tasking and looking for my wallet and money. Quickly I remembered that both boys requested money for lunch today -- in fact even the one who wanted Burger King had taken my last ten dollars. A quick trip through the ATM would have to occur before I could hit the fast food line. Time was ticking. 12:41. I would never make it.

After saying a little prayer, I was pleasantly surprised to find the ATM lane free from traffic, even as I looked at the line at the McDonalds nearby. "Hopefully Burger King won't have a line," I thought to myself, knowing my son would never give me any credit if the drive-through line slowed me down.

I got the cash and meandered through the parking lots to return to the main drag and my destination. Driving into the parking lot I was careful not to hit the elderly gentleman, someone's grandfather, no doubt, who was moving slowly across the lot. Even Dylan might have understood that sort of delay, but it would not have gotten me off the hook for being late.

To my surprise, after the geezer was safely out of my way and I had waited for a truck full of workers to head back to their freezing cold outdoor jobs, I found myself first in line at the drive through.

I ordered the burger exactly as texted, drove to the window and paid -- over eight bucks. Ouch. Add that to the ten dollars I gave him for lunch and he could have had steak, I thought to myself, or maybe I said it out loud. I do that sometimes.

Burger bag and drink safely in the car, I waited for traffic to clear then quickly made my way back through town, through the surprisingly free from snarls construction site, through a green light toward the school. "12:54" my car clock said. "I can't believe it" I said outloud to myself. "This has to be some sort of miracle."

I pulled into the lot at 12:55, fully expecting my phone to ring and my son to say "WHERE ARE YOU?" But no. I went into the office, spoke to the receptionist, told her what I had, and she said, to my shock and dismay, "Sign in, you can take it down there."

As I signed in I thought about the fact that I had gone straight to work this morning without much care for my appearance. I knew I wasn't wearing make-up, wasn't sure if I had combed my hair, but a quick glance in the window of the door and I thought, "I look alright. No one will care."

I got directions to the cafeteria. (This is a new school this year, and I have never been to the cafeteria.) I'm not good with directions, and I was worried that I'd end up wandering the halls. As I left the office I thankfully ran into a friend. "Hi, Connie, are you going to the cafeteria?" Teachers are smart, and she'd seen the Burger King bag.

"How are you, blah blah blah," we said as we meandered down the hall. I was ever mindful of the slow pace we were moving as we discussed holiday plans, the school vacation, etc. Dylan would be pacing by now. But I was in the home stretch.

As we walked into a cafeteria full of kids, my friend said, "Dylan usually eats down there," and she pointed right as she turned left and left me standing all alone. I looked where she had pointed, and I didn't see Dylan. I was now aware of hundreds of teenage eyes staring at me. "They wish I was THEIR mom," I thought to myself, as I smiled and kept looking. Then I saw him: the apple of my eye, my baby boy, the reason I'd braved the elements and made the trek.

He was walking toward me, and as he did, I walked toward him. The signs of joy I had expected to see were missing, and fading fast into a frown. I wasn't that late, so it couldn't be that. I had Burger King, which his text distinctly requested. What could it be, my subconcious wondered.

As he reached out to take the food, he looked at me with what can only be described as a combination of pity and disgust, and he said, "Geez, Mom...[grunt], did you have to wear such a fruity shirt?" Only then, as he grabbed the bag and turned on his heels, did I realize the gravity of the situation.

My son's MOM came into the cafeteria. She didn't drop the food at the office for delivery as she had in the past. Not only did she COME to the cafeteria, but she came wearing a bright green sweatshirt with a GIANT CHRISTMAS TREE on it. OHMIGOD. My son's mother was wearing a glittery, admittedly goofy shirt, with tinsel and bulbs, and colorful bangles hanging all over it. It is a shirt I'll readily admit is not for public consumption. It's a home day holiday shirt, something you throw on when you get up in the morning but certainly NOT something you wear to the junior high to deliver food to your son.

As I walked away I also became cognizant of my snow boots that my jeans were haphazardly tucked in, and the scarf wrapped around my neck. I now could freely admit it. I looked like I was dressed to go to Santa's workshop. What a geek.

I sulked through the office and signed out, picked up my car keys I had left there and that were already in the lost and found, and called my husband, knowing he'd help me put it in perspective.

Within minutes, we were laughing. As always, he put the positive on the story: "Look at it this way...he won't ask you to bring him lunch any more."

That is, I'm sure, very true. And you know, after all that, that's just fine with me.

Proud to be an American?

2008-12-10T10:53:00.003-06:00

I used to be proud to be an American. I even made a conscientious effort to buy an American car the last time around. In fact, my husband and I have bought four Fords in the last five years -- three of them brand new cars. They have been great cars, so I have to disagree with the ad shown at left in one respect. I would change the headline to "You wouldn't buy our overpriced cars."

Now I bought American after years of driving expensive imports, including Saabs and Beemers. In all honesty, our decision to switch to American cars had less to do with the fact that they were American than with the fact that we live in the boonies and have a nice Ford dealership here. I used to drive a BMW sedan, but every time something went wrong -- and it was frequently -- I had to drive it to Dallas for servicing or sit and listen to some grease monkey tell me why I should buy a Ford. With my BMW, every time something went wrong it was $1500 -- minimum. So we bought Fords.

First my husband bought a small commuter car - a ZX2. It was "cute." I think I told him it was cute one time too many, so he traded it for a Mustang. The Mustang still gets good mileage, but it looks a little less "cute" and a little more "cool." It's not fancy, but it's paid for. Out of necessity for hauling kids and sports gear, I bought an SUV. Initially I bought a Ford Escape. It was brand new, and it was pretty, but it was pricey, and there was something not quite right with the size. The engine was way too fast for the size of the car, and I never felt safe in it. When I'd step on the gas, that thing would go, with the rear end fishtailing onto the highway. Within a few months I was back at the dealership asking to trade. I traded "up" to a Explorer. It has an even bigger engine, but it's a much heavier car, and I have really liked this car. It holds seven people comfortably, has a rack on the top for our luggage, the two boys can spread out on road trips, and it is hefty enough to pull our boat. It's been a great car -- for more than 180,000 miles.

I understand why American car manufacturers are in trouble though. It's not so much about the cars they make, at least not the American cars I have experience with. It's about the way you are treated at car dealerships. Through the years, and before we moved to this small town where there is a really good dealership, I had learned to avoid that car buying experience like the plague.

If you go in to trade a car, they rip you off and give you far less than the car is worth. When you're caught up in the car buying experience, you don't really notice, but most people have buyer's remorse the day after they've made the trade.

If you trade in a car that you still owe money on, they are happy to roll the balance into your new car loan. That way you start out with a new car that you owe more on than it's worth, not to mention the fact that the second you drive it off the lot, it becomes a used car and is worth far less than you paid for it.

My most recent dealings with car dealerships have come while shopping for a car for my teenage son. I'm no fool. I know that no teenager needs a new car, so I've done some shopping around. I have shopped online, on ebay, and I've shopped in person at dealerships. I am not going to make payments on a car for a kid, but no matter what you go in for, the guys on the car lot always want to sell you something else. If you want to find something for $5000, they show you something for $15000. If you decide you're willing to pay $10,000, they want you to buy a new car for $23,000.

This process has been so frustrating that I finally gave up. In fact I won't go near a car dealership, except for service. Service at a dealership is great. But apparently fewer people are having their cars serviced regularly, so those of us who do go in are footing the bill. We get upsold all sorts of things that we probably need but didn't go in for in the first place.

I've gone in for a simple oil change ($30) and spent $500 on all sorts of maintenance they said I needed. I've gone in for a tire rotation and been scared silly by mechanics who tell me I'm just miles away from a major blow out that could result in the end of my life, so I've bought new tires. I've also gone in for a simple servicing and spent WAY TOO LONG in the waiting room. The last time I went to my local dealership, I was there three hours. THREE HOURS! As much as I love those guys, there were people coming and going while I sat and sat, probably while they looked for something else to fix on my car. After the second hour, that got old.

So if people don't want to buy cars from car dealers, and they don't want to get their cars serviced at the dealers, the dealers are going to hurt. If the dealers hurt, the manufacturers hurt. If the manufacturers hurt, the auto workers hurt, and if the auto workers hurt, we're told, everyone suffers and the economy goes into a tailspin.

I don't necessarily buy it. I think if the car dealers were honest, and the service people were efficient, the general public wouldn't avoid buying cars or having them serviced.

I think the biggest problem is the price, which is caused by the unions. The union guys make $60- $80 an hour, and a lot of them don't do anything physically demanding or that requires a brain. Yet because it's the UAW, they have power. They are the cause of the high prices on American cars and the lack of competiveness for U.S. auto makers. They are the cause of making cars cost so much that the average citizen has had to go far into debt beyond what he or she could afford to buy a car to get him or her to that job where he or she doesn't make enough money to make the payment.

When combined with the unscrupulous banks that have let those people buy those expensive cars (and homes) in the first place, it's just one big circular mess. Is it an easy fix? No! Is it because American cars aren't made well? No.

I think it boils down to greed. Greed at the top of the auto companies and absolutely at the banks, greed at the union level, greed at the dealership level, and even greed at the consumer level.

Proud to be an American? Not really. But if I can ever afford to buy an American car again, I will. I have had good experience with the quality. It's the price and now the financing I have a problem with.

I do not want our government giving the auto makers federal money -- our money. They have received enough of it, and they have frittered it away. Let the auto workers lose their jobs. Let the execs at those companies lose their jobs and their golden parachutes. Let the bank executives lose their jobs. Then maybe they'll have to work for a living like the rest of us.

You know you live in a small town when...

2008-12-01T16:29:00.003-06:00

My city slicker friends always marvel at how I manage to live out in the sticks like I do. They come visit once in a while and make a big deal out of driving CLEAR out here, a whole 45 minutes from downtown Dallas. Of course, it's true, it is a whole different lifestyle. Instead of murder and mayhem in our newspapers, we get to read about the activities of the local Garden Club, Literary Club, Civic League and Chamber of Commerce. We get to read about our student athletes and prom queens and about the sermons at the gazillion churchs that dot our byways. My mother, who is very active in just about every club in town, gets her picture in the paper quite frequently. But this past week we all had a good laugh at the "news" when we opened the local paper. To the right is the big news item about my mother, Ruth Boswell, winning a pair of pruning shears at the local garden club meeting. Now this is something you won't find in the Dallas Morning News.

Incongruity

2008-11-17T08:15:00.004-06:00

At the risk of turning away some avid readers of this blog (welcome back both of you), I am going to share something very personal. If you're here because you're interested in publicity or copywriting services, please back out of this blog and back into http://www.outreachpr.com/copywriting.htm (my website) for a visit to my portfolio. Otherwise, get ready for something a bit .... out there.

If you're still here, remember, I warned you. This is personal.

I believe in God, and as such I pray. I took to reading the bible a few years ago, and I have learned a lot. At this point I know I have read the entire bible at least a couple of times in my life. I go to church in spurts. I've been in an off-spurt for about six months, maybe a year. Before that I was in an on-spurt for a year or so. That's sort of the longest on-spurt of my life, but it was significant.

Anyway, what I do know is that since I turned over all my troubles and concerns to God, I've been much more at peace. When you have the weight of the world on your shoulders and you're trying to make ends meet, achieve your client objectives to ensure continued business success, etc., it can be tough.

Before I gave my problems over to God I used to wake up in the middle of the night worried. I worried about whether a certain editor would write a story for a certain client. I worried about getting my work done and where the next work after it would come from. I worried about cashflow and paying my bills. I worried about my kids, their friends. I just worried. Things always seemed to work out, but I sure worked hard to make everything happen. Since I gave the worrying part over to God, it's a lot easier.

Now I focus on solving the problems, not worrying about them. I have more work than I can possibly do, with quality people who pay me when they say they will what they say they will. I didn't go find these people. Somehow they found me. Each and every one of them make my world somehow better. I help them promote their businesses and create awareness of their events and activities and I hope I make their lives better too.

They did not randomly find me. I asked for them in prayer, and they came. Call it coincidence, call it good karma, call it effective internet marketing and brandwidth...whatever you call it, it's happened.

What I do with what comes my way, I believe, determines what else I might be "eligible for." I am on a path to the next level. I want to achieve for my kids and for my own future. I don't have a lot of choice, so I have to just keep plowing ahead.

The other day when I was praying, I got a message. This has happened maybe twice in my life. (Or at least only twice when I've had ready access to pen and paper or that I've been paying attention to the idea of a RESPONSE to my prayer.) This particular day I was making breakfast and praying and being very positive, and I got these words. I wrote them on my white board in my office, because it was so clear it was like someone said it outloud. I didn't know what any of it meant, and it was coming so fast, I just stopped, went into the office and started writing. Here's what the words, still there, say:

"Do you see the ridiculousness of your endeavors?"

and

"One person can't do it all."

and

"Incongruous"

There's more, but that's a lot. So we'll start there.

That day, after I got the kids off to school I jumped back into my routine and ignored what I'd written on the board, a little, but it was definitely on my mind. I began to look for ridicuolousness and incongruity. Wow. Those are heavy, heavy, way heavy things. Who talks to you like that? I looked up incongruity, flipped it to the positive, and started evaluating my day based on the word "congruity." Pretty quickly, I found some, but not a lot. I saw opportunities for more.

I swiveled in my chair where back on the white board I'd written:

"Incongruity between your responsibilities and your lifestyle."

Wow. What does that mean? Which part of my lifestyle? Is it the "do everything for everyone while making enough money for the entire family" part? Hey, that fits with the previous thing: "One person can't do it all."

Other lifestyle issues: Hmmmm...this does get personal and although I never think about how my choices are "bad," but maybe they are. With all the work I have to do, do I really have time to go to the hockey rink four times a week, particularly when I have a spouse who is not incapable of making two round-trips if needed every few weeks at least. Can I make all the away football games, and drive taxi to the endless junior high social calendar, feed a neighborhood full of kids at the house all the time and keep the cupboards full of snacks and the fridge of drinks? Can all the laundry be clean and my clients still be served? And can I do this on my own?

No, probably not. But which part has to go. I've been evaluating. It really doesn't have to go away if I share the work. I've spent a lifetime meeting people who do what I do, but I've met very few -- maybe five -- that I would hire, and most of them are so good they're as busy or busier than I. There are another two that I would consider partnering with. Maybe three. Am I ready to give up the lifestyle and drive to the city? Do we need to change the way we get everything done so that I can have someone share the burdens and responsibility?

Also on the white board I see, from that same day:

"New Ideas"

"Seize"

"Leverage"

The day I wrote those,I remember, it was if the words were going straight from somewhere else through my arm to my brain...What the?!?!?

For the last week, with this pretty amazing conversation and documentation in mind, I've been evaluating my activities with more clarity. I've gone back and asked for focus, and I have received some, but I have a lot to figure out myself, as well.

I have been focusing on my responsibilities and evaluating my time management based on everything -- ridiculousness of the endeavor, who can help me do it (or if I can do it myself), my lifestyle, including how much sleep I try to operate without, my not infrequent evening or weekend escapes into a glass of wine (that can become a few and there goes the productivity or the interest in making dinner) and my personal need for either stimulation, focus or perhaps even medication to keep me going on the productive path. (I am one of the few unmedicated people I know. Is that in itself a problem? What is God's perspective on medication?)

Yep. It's all under the microscope, and it came not from my own mind, but from some mysterious voice. Perhaps that voice is in my head, but I really don't think so.

Can you take me higher? Let's go there....let's go there...The song by Creed is one of my favorites. I understand it better now.

If you need help understanding this, please don't hesitate to ask. I think that's part of what I'm supposed to do, and what I'm doing in my actions every day. Under a new microscope. It's an interesting place. I feel very honored to be getting direction from someone other than myself. It's hard to rely on me all the time.

Obviously, if you've read this far you have to understand that all of the above has caused a pretty brutal personal examination for me and for my work and for my life. My brain actually hurts, and I've honestly only gotten through the first half of this one converation. That whole second part -- the seize, leverage, new ideas thing is still out there. By nature I am not competitive or aggressive. I like to be comfortable and have worried about little else. I have passed up some of the most amazing opportunities that have honest to God dealt with superstars and incredible worlds well beyond my own existence. I didn't seize then and probably should have. I need to prepare to seize now. Times are going to get tough, so it's time to win the game.

First I have to master this universe.

I think my goal this week is to identify sources of help. If you're reading this and you're one of those, don't hesitate to let me know.

Far Worse than Ring Around the Collar

2008-11-07T08:03:00.005-06:00

I grew up in the era when homemakers were proud women who took care of their families needs, cooked, cleaned, and made sure their husbands had delicious coffee to drink and "no dirty rings" around their shirt collars.

I remember my mom standing in our 1970s sunkin family room with the orange, black & brown shag carpet at the ironing board, ironing clothes while watching soap operas, the Watergate Hearings, and news, which when I was kid was a lot like an episode of G.I. Joe. Vietnam was raging, and every night on the news was like the opening of M.A.S.H., with helicopters whirring and young boys in fatigues running around.

My household is very different then that. My ironing board has never been in my living room, and in fact I have one that comes out of the wall in my laundry room, but I've never really used it. I send my husband's shirts to the dry cleaners or he takes care of them himself. I used to think I was pretty good at doing laundry, but after yesterday, I've decided differently.

In one fell swoop, yesterday I ruined my youngest son's entire "wardrobe." Fortunately that consists of t-shirts, but yesterday every one of his shirts ended up looking like something those guys on TV when I was a kid were wearing. Camo.

Now, how did I do that? Halloween actually did it to me. A week or two before Halloween the kids and the neighbor kids had been up in our attic digging around. They found my husband's hunting gear, which hasn't been used in at least 17 years, and adopted a pair of camo coveralls and the camo face paint for part of their Halloween festivities.

Sadly, the coveralls were in Dill's laundry, and the face paint was in the pocket of the coveralls, and I threw the whole mess in with about a dozen of his most favorite t-shirts and some other clothes. The best example of what happened is shown in the photo above.

Now I've been known to wash money, wallets, ipods, and telephones, because my children don't know how to clean out their pockets. If I'm picking laundry up off the bathroom floor, I rarely take the time to check all the pockets. You would think I would have learned, but I tend to be a slow learner when it comes to these types of chores.

Anyway, after four washings, the color still hasn't come out of most of the shirts. I plan to buy some of that OxiClean that guy screams about on TV to see if it will help, and if not, Dill will get a new "wardrobe" at Hollister this weekend.

Sometimes I wish times were different and I could focus solely on the chores of motherhood and wifedom. Instead, I have to make money every month to help keep this relatively crazy household afloat. Since I don't have what you might call a "real job," and haven't for more than a dozen years, I have to do that basically out of thin air every single month. To say that's pressure is an understatement. The fact that I'm even trying to do laundry at the same time should score me some points. But it doesn't. The kid with the ruined t-shirts (his favorites) gives me no points at all.

My neighbor who is almost 90 speaks of raising her kids and of the "help" she had. She had a full-time housekeeper and someone to tend to her four kids. She didn't work, but her husband was in the oil business and owned a company that did quite a bit of entertaining. Her job was the entertaining. She tells me that before he got home from work all the kids were scrubbed and clean, with combed hair. She had on a nice dress, make-up and pearls. Boy, is my house different than that.

When my husband gets home I'm usually still working. If it's a particularly busy day, it's quite possible I have on sweats and a make-up free face. If the kids are home, they certainly aren't scrubbed and clean either, and if it's toward the end of the week, it's rare that there are even groceries in the house, let alone dinner in the oven or on the table. The table is where the mail gets dumped, and where school books and backpacks and purses and other junk resides. I clean it off a couple times a week and we try to sit there and eat a few times every week, but most of the time we're running around to sports events, hockey practices, or I'm playing tennis. A lot of nights it's "fend for yourself" time with regard to food, or we're handing the kids money to go to town for pizza or burgers or Subway.

I gave up a while ago trying to be the perfect homemaker. Over the years I've been through spurts of having "help," and it was the best money I think I ever spent. I had a nanny when the boys were infants, and a sitter who spent the night when they were toddlers and pre-school age, back when I was in corporate and we had evening events to attend as part of my job. I have had cleaning ladies who kept my house looking spotless. But with the changes in the economy and the added expense of a son playing hockey, declining investments, and college looming on the horizon, I cut out a lot of the "extras" that I thought I could live without.

But after ruining my son's wardrobe yesterday and looking around my house, I think I need to reconsider. I need household help. I used to feel guilty being home, sitting at the computer while the cleaning ladies were working so hard, so I would leave and go work out. That made me feel even guiltier. But as I look at my mess of a house, and the ruined laundry, and the dirty dishes, I think I need to get some help once again.

How to be a hockey mom.

2008-10-20T07:29:00.005-05:00

If you're looking for a political commentary, click away. This post is going to be a few dos and don'ts for real live hockey moms, in hopes that moms, dads, grandparents and any others involved in hockey or other sports may learn something.

Let me preface this post by saying I have not put a lot of thought into this, and I am certainly no expert. I've made my mistakes as a sports mom through the years. Perhaps there's something about hockey that attracts a specific breed. Or maybe it's the added stress the sport puts on your wallet, but a good hockey mom learns to manage that stress and deal with other issues, like when your kid doesn't get much ice time.

The number one rule of being a hockey mom: the MOM part, and the examples you set are WAY MORE important than the HOCKEY part. Here are a few specific dos and don'ts.

1. Ice time is not a birth right. It's something a hockey player earns. If you want your kid to have more ice time, it is YOUR responsibility to make sure he has the skills he needs. DO invest in plenty of practice time, camps, private lessons, whatever your kid needs. Otherwise, he will sit on the bench more than you'd like to see.

2. If you think your kid deserves more ice time, DON'T tell the coach he's stupid. That will not result in your son getting more ice time. Guaranteed.

3. DON'T leave it up to your teenage son to get to practice at 5:30 a.m. on his own. Get up and take him. If he shows up only every other time or shows up 15 minutes late or without a helmet or without all the equipment he needs, he's not going to get more ice time.

4. DO understand that although you can buy your way on to a team, there is no guarantee your kid will play as much as you want or even as much as the other kids on the team.

5. If you want your kid to play, DO take him to open hockey, drop-in hockey, private lessons, camps, spring training, buy him a net and a shooting pad, encourage him to practice. Support him by helping him get better. The better your kid is, the more time he'll play.

6. DO NOT isolate yourself from the other parents. If we don't know who you are, you don't bring your kid to practice or you don't come to the games, we can't tell you about all the opportunities for your son to get private lessons, open hockey, drop-in hockey, and more practice time, etc., etc.

7. DO come to practice. This is where you see exactly where your kid's skills stand up to other kids. It's where it becomes blindingly obvious whether or not your kid has what it takes or doesn't. If he doesn't, get him some more practice, camps, private lessons, put him on a second or even a third team to get the ice time. If you aren't willing to do some of this, or you really can't afford it, save your money and pull him off the ice altogether.

8. DON'T let your kid get involved in hockey unless you are ready to make some sacrifices yourself. Hockey is more than writing checks. It's spending time with your kid in the car on the way to practice, and before and after games. It's talking about what went right and wrong, about the other kids he's spending time with, about what camps, extra ice time, and additional practice he might need or about how much he's improved and how proud you are of him.

9. Hockey gives you great opportunities to talk about real life lessons like anger management, fairness, safety, nutrition, hygiene...even the importance of good grades. It's an opportunity to forge a bond with your kid that you will never regret. It's certainly worth a little lost sleep and the time it takes.

10. Finally, if you have something to say to the coach, do it in private. Do it calmly. Don't stand in the middle of the rink lobby and start pointing your finger and screaming. Calmly make an appointment to talk to the coach. Hockey coaches are great people. They know more about your kid and his ability to play hockey than you do. They don't mince words, they will tell you exactly why your kid doesn't get ice time. Coaches are about more than winning, they like to develop players. They like to see kids improve. Yelling at the coach won't buy your kid any favors.

That's it. I'm sure there's more. Like I said, I'm no expert. But in the four or five years I've been involved in hockey I've learned a few things. It can be a great sport, or it can be an agonizing sport. As with everything in life, you get out what you put in.

"Kids do the darndest things." (No wonder all my stuff needs repair.)

2008-10-08T15:07:00.006-05:00

My kids recently made the mistake of leaving some of their home videos on my camera. When I went to download a couple of photos, I found some interesting things. This was something they apparently thought would make it on YouTube. They never got a chance. Instead, they were banned from using the golf cart (for a while). As my husband says, "Boys will be boys." My suggestion to them is to delete the evidence. It's not good when Mom sees stuff like this.

"Hey, Mom, we killed a snake in your office!"

2008-10-07T09:01:00.005-05:00

I've lived in Texas for nearly ten years. Before I moved here, we had a going away party, and a client of mine brought a date who just went on and on about how she hated Texas because of the snakes.

She told stories of them climbing through the air conditioning ducts, and I'll admit she had me a bit freaked out. So one of the first things I did with my boys (who were little guys of 4 and 7 at the time) was make an education lesson out of an early trip to the Tyler Zoo. We went in the reptile house and learned everything we needed to know about snakes in Texas. (Basically what I learned was that if their head is shaped like an arrow, it IS poisonous.) Most snakes in Texas, I learned, were not poisonous, although some can grow to a relatively large size, and they all freak me out.

That visit to the reptile house aside, over the years, I have had very few encounters with snakes. My kids, by nature of being boys running around near a lake, and at friend's homes in the country, have seen more snakes than I. But we lived on the lake for eight years, and in that time I think we had one tiny snake in our breezeway, one (maybe two) tiny snakes in our swimming pool, and one or two instances where I saw a BIG snake in the lake or on our beach. I would say that's a fairly low snake siting incidence for that many years.

I got home from somewhere on Sunday to find out that my oldest son and his friend had killed a snake. Not in a field near our house. Not somewhere in the woods on the golf course. They had killed a snake IN MY OFFICE.

Now I wasn't home, thank goodness, but my husband insists that this particular snake probably took up residence last week when I had the door to my office wide open. There was a great breeze last Thursday, and I was having a meeting here, and I had opened the door to let the breezes and the sunshine flow freely in. I did not invite that snake. If the snake came in on Thursday, that means it was in here with me on Friday when I was working. I was in and out of the office a little on Saturday, with the snake, and then on Sunday my son came out to play the drums or lift weights or who knows what, and stepped on it.

Fortunately, my son's friend, our next door neighbor, was here, and he knew just what to do. He went to the kitchen to the knife block, grabbed a cleaver, came back to the office, and chopped the snake's head off. I am so glad I was not here, and I'm so glad I've never used (and will never use) that cleaver.

Now before you get this horrible picture in your head (like I did), understand that this snake was maybe 10 inches long and skinny. But it had fangs, and my husband said the mouth was still moving up and down when he picked up the head, but what shape the head was, I do not know. The boys were all to happy to kill it. Cleaning it up responsibilities went to my spouse. I'm just glad it happened on a weekend, because I did not have to see it or clean it up.

Anyway, now while I'm writing news releases and optimizing web copy, and conferencing with clients, I'm also looking over my shoulder. I often go outside to get some air and to proofread, and now I'm looking for snakes before I even take my first step out. It's a little freaky. I have a small foot stool under my desk where I keep my feet now -- up off the floor. I know snakes can slither up the legs of anything, but in case there was more than one...in case that little guy had a brother or sister, or heaven forbid a whole nest of brothers and sisters, I've got my eyes peeled.

I'm not sure why I'm sharing it. I guess it's on my mind. I don't think they deal with this sort of thing in corporate America, do they?

Congrats Horizon Data Center Solutions

2008-09-29T07:07:00.002-05:00

Once in a while I like to share something about one of my clients. Today's story is about Horizon Data Center Solutions.

HDCS operates a 25,000 square foot state-of-the-art data center that is based in Dallas. In their world, what that means is they are big. Big, big. The gentlemen behind this operation are leaders in their field, and they are motivated, service oriented, and smart.

Last week we put out a news release about their "stellar" growth, and it's been picked up in their industry very respectably. The client seems almost surprised by this first success, and I have to smile, because I know clients, and with these guys, this is just the start. They have a lot more great things to talk about and a lot more opportunities to share their news. Horizon is a new client that I will enjoy working with.

Here's why: PR gets a bad rap on occasion and has somehow been associated with not telling the truth or with making up stories. We've all heard the phrase, "Give it the PR spin." But the role of a publicist and the real goal of PR is to provide journalists with access to interesting stories that their readers will care about. You do that on either a very selective or a mass distribution basis.

A good client for me understands that they can't have press releases that sound like sales sheets or ads. They understand that if they are willing to give numbers (a $70 million lease, 300% growth, plan to add two data centers in the next six months...in Horizon's case) that's a story. If everything is secret or shrouded by a corporate veil, or they don't have "permission" to talk about it...there is no story. Then the PR person has nothing to deliver, and journalists will not be interested in being the conduit for the fluff. Not to mention that if you're a publicist your reputation is at stake every time you send something out. If you send schlock just to appease a client, the good stuff you send out may not get looked at either. You can quickly get locked out.

Back in 1987 -- a long time ago when I was a public relations coordinator at a national association I went to a conference, and one speaker was the Public Relations VP from BASF or some gigantic company. I remember him saying something shocking and exciting at the same time. He said, "If you are forced to write a release that is not news, do yourself a favor and once it's approved, throw it out. Don't send it." This resonated with me because at the time half my time was being spent on news that wasn't news, or that wasn't going to do anyone any good. It was what today they would call "vanity PR," "So and so has written an article entitled blah, blah, blah.."

Of course this was in the days before we had email, when we would xerox, fold, stuff and stamp press releases and physically mail them, often with pictures of people, products, and events. PR departments had big trays full of mail. We had labels, and stamps, and everything went through the mail room. It was hard to "dump a tray" and not send out a release, but I do think I may have done that once or twice. In the long run, it was better for my employer and for me.

Today I avoid that problem by telling my clients that we not only have to have a story, we have to have a really good story, something worthy of an impactful headline that is keyword rich and SEO-friendly. We also need a combination of custom distribution and targeted pitching and national wire service or paid placement. That's just the way it works today. We also need an understanding of timing and opportunities and goals and objectives -- not just the clients, but the media target timing, opportunities, goals and objectives. It's a science with a creative execution, and I like that.

So welcome Horizon Data Center Solutions to the OutreachPR portfolio of clients. We certainly hope you'll continue to be pleasantly surprised at the results we can achieve. PR really does work. You just have to have the right person handling it for you, and she has to have the right clients. When that happens, it's a good combination.

Proud Moments

2008-09-23T08:16:00.004-05:00

I don't want to brag, and I know it's not polite, but I am excited to report that my son Dylan is running for class president of the first 8th grade class at the new Mabank Junior High.

The election is next Monday and there are all sorts of rules about what the candidates must do, can't do, as well as what the job, if you are elected, of class president entails. I had to read about six pages of information and sign off on this effort, which it turns out does involve a little work.

What you must understand is that Dylan is not the type of kid you would imagine would run for president. His vice president, his best friend Jeremy, probably is. When Dylan told me about this in his "oh by the way" way on Sunday night, and handed me the packet to sign, I was pretty shocked. Especially because there are a lot of candidates, and almost all his friends have paired up in teams. They are all running against each other. They are into it. This is pretty cool. They might actually LEARN something that won't be on "the test!"

After reading into the packet of rules and requirements, I noticed the part about the three posters needed on Monday. (It was after 10 on Sunday night.) "Who's making your posters?" (they need three). "Jeremy," Dylan said. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Do you realize you have to make a speech?" "Yes." "What are you going to say?" "I don't know." The publicist and campaign manager in me began to get nervous. We only have a week my subconscious worried as it quickly compiled some good key messages, while my wiser "this is your kid not your client" side took charge.

Wise Mom stifled my concerns and I went to bed Sunday night proud, and at the same time wondering if Dylan had any idea what he was getting himself into. My subconscious started working on a tagline or campaign slogan... and worrying about the work that was to be done...

At 7 a.m. on Monday my phone rang. It was Jeremy's mom, who I must say, like me, is an over-achiever. As president of the local bank, she's one smart cookie, as is her son, my son's running mate, who also is a kid I've known since they were both four. Dylan was already at football. "Jeremy is sick, and I have this poster here," she said. "But we didn't read the information until late last night and we only have one done." The campaign manager in me took over. "That's fine," I said. "Don't worry about it." We arranged for me to pick up the one poster at the bank , and I would take it to the school for Dylan. Of course the publicist in me and the "detail gal" was concerned about the lack of posters, and because this is an agency and I have all the "stuff," I spent a little time after doing some work and made a second poster for Dylan and Jeremy. I had the stuff to make another one, but I had real work to do too. I drove to the bank, delivered the posters to the junior high, and got back to work.

The kids' first campaign meeting was held after school, and Dylan came home last night very excited about the campaign process, what they could do, etc. It was good to see his enthusiasm. Later his friend Stephen came over. Stephen is running as the VP on another ticket. We jointly discussed strategy, and I listened for any insight I could about what he and his running mate were doing. Stephen had gone to the dentist and missed the meeting, so he didn't know what their posters were like, what they were planning to do, nothing. He may have been faking ignorance -- a good strategy. I made a mental note to pick his brain the next day.

Last night around 9:30 Dylan came into my office. "Mom, can we make me a t-shirt and some buttons?" The designer in me -- the one who gets excited about "rush" jobs sprang into action, and because this is an agency, I had all the stuff. So we designed a logo, made a transfer, and ironed it on a t-shirt that he had found in his dad's closet. We also made some buttons using the laminating machine, and some stickers. It was nearly midnight when we went to bed.

Of course this morning he wasn't happy with how big the shirt we had made is, so he found another one in his closet, we quickly printed another transfer and made him a new shirt. Oh my God, what a prima donna...candidates...they are all the same. He wore his new shirt to school today, and although the transfer is not as crisp as the one on the big shirt, it's okay for 8th grade. He'll get the campaign started.

So it's only Day 2 of the campaign, and the election is next Monday. I have no idea how much more time this is going to take. There's still the speech and the election process itself. There is the campaigning ("Give the stickers to the 7th grade girls and smile at them real nice and ask for their vote," I told him this morning. "Focusing on the 7th graders takes care of the problem caused by all your friends running and splitting the vote," I pointed out.

There is still the debate for You Tube, and maybe a web site. But for the most part, his work is done. Best of all they really could ALL learn something.

Of course I'm going to continue to stay out of it. I have no intention of getting involved. This is not my project. It's my son's.

A Little Goes a Long Way

2008-09-17T10:51:00.002-05:00

This morning I received the first annual report for a project my friend and colleague first told me about last year. It is a micro-loan program for widows in Burundi, Africa, one of the poorest places in the world.

I had read about providing what amounts to venture capital for people in developing nations, and I have received the "gifts" at Christmas that say, "Your gift is our donation to XYZ which purchased two goats for refugees in Estonia," and I've always thought, "What a great idea." So when my friend asked me to be a part of his Widows and Orphans Ministry program and the micro-loan effort, I said, "Sure."

The report I got today listed five pages of women who had borrowed anywhere from $26 to $172 to help them fund their efforts to support their families with everything from "Planting and selling corn and beans" to "Buying a cow to sell milk." The venture was started with just a little bit of seed money from half a dozen associates of my colleague. But the seed money he got from a few friends has turned into an enterprise that has been able to self fund itself as the women who borrow the money pay it back -- with interest -- a whopping ten percent, I might add.

So when Claudine Kwizera borrowed $73 to start selling telephone cards, and she repaid over time $80, her extra $7 went into the kitty for the next needy widow. This self-sustaining fund has already dispersed more than $4300 (a king's ransom in Burundi) of which $3700 has already been paid back and another $1800 still exists for the women who apply for the loans on the next application date. I don't get the math exactly, but I do get the point. This pay it forward sort of system is working in Burundi. Almost 100 women over the last year created and are running their own successful small business operations in order to feed and clothe their children and as part of their quest for a better life.

The small check I sent was a small price to pay to be a part of this effort. I'll do it again in a heartbeat. To know that Macurata Ciza is planting cabbage and Valerie Ntandiburintuntu is selling rice, and their kids are no longer hungry and these women are no longer charity cases feels very good.

If you feel drawn to give, go to www.iamhereforyou.com.

Ike

2008-09-11T18:25:00.002-05:00

I don't think I've ever been through a tropical storm, thank God. But I guess I'm about to.

Ike is barreling down on Texas, and you wouldn't dream it by looking outside. It's very calm. Almost eerily so. But Ike is coming. Unless something dramatic happens over night, he's on his way.

My friend from Florida called me today. She's been in Florida for 24 years, and she has weathered a few storms. She wanted to make sure I was prepared. Of course I was not. Still am not. At least I know I'm not prepared. But she freaked me out a bit, in a good way. She put me into action.

I emailed friends and colleagues in Houston and offered them refuge from the eye at my house. I don't know if anyone will respond. They are probably already gone if they are leaving. Traffic is going to be miserable. All lanes headed out of town in Houston -- probably eight lanes of bumper to bumper headed north.

Our church started welcoming evacuees today. My mother's domino club had to be moved. That's why I know.

I have a feeling if these people get here today, they are going to want to stay. It's a gorgeous day. We're headed out in a few minutes to a football game. Our son (who broke his finger in practice Tuesday) may or may not play. I prefer not. I don't particularly like football. That's neither here nor there nor the subject of this post, but the point is, it's nice out right now.

But Jennifer said the wind is going to blow and the rain is going to come. The news says six to 12 inches. That could be nothing to two feet, who knows? I'm sort of excited. I guess life in a small town is getting to me. Things like this excite me. I'm hoping we'll have house guests. That would be exciting for me.

Of course all this said, I have a ton of work to do. People outside of this area don't realize what could be going on here over the next 72 hours. It could be pretty crazy. They still need their stuff done.

Stay tuned. Maybe I'll post video during the storm. I have some from when Jean came through a week after Katrina. That was a big one too. But not as big as Ike.

Ike, I'm not ready yet, my mom says get cash and a full tank of gas. I just need food that doesn't have to be microwaved, some flashlights, some batteries, and some drinks. I have a good book I want to read (The Shack, you have to read it). We'll keep the kids close.

All this light hearted excitement aside, my good friend Ana told me today that her aunt died during the hurricane (this same one, Ike) in Cuba. Yesterday I guess. It's very sad. Nothing is on the news about that. The infrastructure of Cuba is fragile at best. There is a terrible story to be told there....but say a prayer for Ana and her family. This is the second aunt who died this week. The other of natural causes here in Texas, but it's been a rough week. Pray for the people of Galveston. They just might lose everything in the next couple of days. And pray for me, that it doesn't hit Kemp, Texas, because I have way too much to do because today I've been preoccupied with the hurricane.

Help your neighbors, friends! Take a hike, Ike!

Really Big Shift

2008-09-04T06:49:00.005-05:00

Since the Olympics there really isn't anything on TV. The Rangers aren't winning. Hockey hasn't started. The hurricane wasn't the ratings boost the networks had hoped for, although I saw some previews of some coming storms, and it looks pretty promising. (What's wrong with this picture?) TV-wise, I couldn't get excited about the convention in Denver. I wanted to see Bill Clinton, didn't care to see his wife, can't get excited about Obama. I was feeling let down. But last night I just happened to flop down on the couch after tennis in time to watch Sarah Palin.

I was one of the few Americans who had done more than what the media would have us believe McCain's people did, and I read her "Official Governor of Alaska" website. If you got past the relatively amateurish and borderline "folksy" nature of it, there was some good stuff in there. She has a record of telling Washington to "butt out" of Alaska business, then she's managed to turn around another day and make a valid case for why beluga whales did not need to be on the endangered species list, or she'd ask for some "ballsy" big numbers -- hundreds of millions of dollars -- for her state to develop their energy infrastructure. And she got what she asked for. She's been good for Alaska.

And based on seeing her last night, I think she's a lady who speaks her mind. And she's good at it. She carries a gun, and I don't think I'd mess with her. Secret service will have a really hard time keeping up with this lady.

I didn't want to like her. I wanted to hate her, but I have been so disenfranchised and so "independent" for so long...and between my research and the speech last night, she just might do it for me. I think she could be just what this country needs. And not just one of her. If she gets in office, there will be a lot of new jobs in Washington. A lot of "speak her mind 40-something women" will have access to good jobs, and for the first time in the history of the United States of America: some real power.

Girl Power. Middle aged, good looking, smart, not afraid to speak your mind women. I'm all for it. Get the Mom's of Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine, National Guard, Reserve, Coast Guard, etc., etc., and the Mom's of special needs children, and the mothers of kids who messed up by society's norms, the condom broke, now's there another baby, we'll deal with it I love you situations. Bring those people to Washington with their pain and suffering and their experiences, and put a real voice in America. Change really could happen.

I admit. The "Hockey Mom's for Palin" signs probably helped at least endear me to her. They were far too crude though -- does Minneapolis not have a Kinkos or Fast Signs? I think she knew what she was talking about. Washington as we know it will be blown wide open. There will be jobs for smart, networked people in government. This could be cool.

I don't like to discuss politics, but I am a bit astonished at my own enthusiasm for once. I think this lady is about results. She knows how to get things done. She will take things down a big notch "stuff shirt, politics, politics, bullshit, bullshit" in Washington. I think the Vice President is in there with the Congress and the Senate and has some authority. I think this lady can kick some ass.

Overseas people will like her because her family will have some drama and it's like the first time in years that we'll even know how many kids the vice president has, their names, what they do. I can even see a reality show on Bravo. This could be really fun.

For the first time last night I watched a speech and didn't feel like a jaded publicist looking for all the orchestration. There was no ear piece. She didn't fumble any words. I think she probably wrote that speech herself. I'm an independent, and if she went after my vote, she just might have gotten it.

Things she said resonated with me. She knows energy. She has an environmental bent. She's pro-family. She's not perfect.

I have been swayed. I don't typically vote Republican, but I haven't liked Obama since he beat out Hillary, who I liked only for her husband, who is my all-time favorite president. I met him at a fundraiser for Governor Roy Romer in a United airlines hangar back at the old Stapleton Airport in Denver. He was simply presidential. Impressive. Handsome. Tall. I met Mr. Obama at a restaurant on the Navy Pier in Chicago during the last election year. He was running for senate, and I had my picture taken with him. I wasn't impressed. I think I could have pushed him over size wise. He was young, and although exceedingly polite, not presidential -- ambassadorish, perhaps, but not presidential. My brother-in-law unfortunately deleted the photo. It made us look like best friends, so I'm so bummed, but he and my husband both will vouch that the photo once existed and we met Mr. Obama before he was Mr. Anybody. Come to think of it, I think I'd like to meet Sarah Palin.

One last thought. Don't you think this is going to be good for foreign relations? Do you think a bunch of Arab terrorists are going to want to take on a country all of a sudden empowered by pre-menopausal and menopausal women? Mothers? WORKING Mothers? If Sadaam Hussein was still alive he'd be quaking in his boots.

I can't believe it. I haven't been this happy since the democrats took ahold of the senate. Or since the Avs won the Stanley Cup.

The only thing better than this is if we'd get McCain to step aside and become a cabinet guy, and let Sarah Palin run for president. We could get Angelina Jolie-Pitt to run for VP. Madonna could be secretary of state. Brad could hang with Sarah's husband and they could go to Yankees games with Madonna. Politics would merge with People magazine and truly hit the American populace.

I'm so psyched. This is going to be water-cooler worthy. I think it's going to make cigars in the hallway look like child's play. We're going to have parties at the White House and the Palin kids charming Washington. CSPAN might actually become interesting. It's going to be interesting to watch this fall out. What would Tim Russert have said? What is Hollywood going to do? I'm so happy there will finally be something to watch on TV.

Support Team Meb and NineMillion.org

2008-08-28T17:55:00.013-05:00

OutreachPR has GREAT CLIENTS. This is something we did today:

Team Meb to Compete with Conviction in Nike+ Human Race
Raising Money for NineMillion.org is Personal Quest for Running Team

LOS ANGELES – August 28, 2008 – This month the world watched as athletes from nations around the globe united in competitive spirit in one amazing city: Beijing. On August 31, that spirit continues with the Nike+ Human Race, the world’s largest sporting event, which will feature 10K races in 25 cities around the globe.

In Los Angeles, one group of family members, friends and fans of U.S. Olympic Silver Medalist and marathoner Meb Keflezighi, will unite with professional runners, including Nike athletes Khadevis Robinson and Jon Rankin, and world class runner Jacques Sallberg, to run the race and raise money and awareness for NineMillion.org, the United Nation’s program that supports refugee children around the world with access to education and sports.

Team Meb has a unique tie to the noble causes of NineMillion.org. Their team name sake and running inspiration, Meb Keflezighi, who also remains the reigning U.S. record holder in the 10k with an astonishing 27:13:98, not only supports the cause vigorously, but he lived it, as did his brother, Hawi Keflezighi, owner of HAWI Management, which manages both Rankin and Sallberg.

Meb, Hawi, and four other siblings began their lives caught in the midst of a brutal 30-year war between their homeland of Eritrea and Ethiopia. Fearing for their lives, the family fled Eritrea as refugees, spending time in Europe before arriving in the United States.

It was in California where Meb began his meteoric rise to running fame. While overcoming language barriers to achieve superior status as a student, he also astounded his coaches with his speed. Meb went on to win an unprecedented full-ride scholarship to UCLA in track, where he was a four time NCAA champion. In 2004, he won the Silver Medal at the Olympics in Athens, despite being ranked only 39th in the field.

From Belgium where he is preparing to run the 5k at the Flanders Cup on August 30, and the 10k in the Golden League Memorial Van Damme on September 5, Meb said, “The efforts of Team Meb have exposed thousands of people to the work of NineMillion.org, and already more than 125 people have joined the team to raise money for a cause that is so important to nine million refugee children around the world. I am with them in spirit and so happy for their commitment to this cause.”

Donations can be made to NineMillion.org in support of Team Meb online by visiting http://www.ninemillionspacesdonations.org/. Visit http://www.ninemillion.org/ for a first hand look at the work being done by the program by watching the video on the home page. The video features Meb Keflezighi as spokesperson, part of his role as an active supporter of the program.

For more information, visit http://www.hawisports.com/ and click on the Events section of the website to learn more about Team Meb. -end-

TEAM MEB
About Team Meb
The official Meb Keflezighi website is located at http://www.runmeb.com/.
Meb is proudly sponsored by Nike (http://www.nike.com/) and Power Bar (www.powerbar.com)

More about NineMillion.org, a UN agency for refugee children, is at http://www.ninemillion.org/

Khadevis Robinson is a premier U.S. men’s 800m runner who finished fourth in the 2008 U.S. Olympic Trials. His website is at http://www.khadevis.com/

Professional runner Jon Rankin is a world class miler and Nike athlete. Read more about him at www.hawisports.com/jon.html

Jacques Sallberg is a worldclass steeple chaser and member of Team USA. Read about him at www.hawisports.com/jacques.html

Merhawi Keflezighi is the owner of HAWI Management, a professional sports management company based in Los Angeles. Hawi, like his brother Meb, was a refugee as a child, who grew up with a focus on education. He holds a law degree from the UCLA School of Law and is passionate about managing athletes to reach their full potential. Visit http://www.hawisports.com/ for more information.

Life is Precious

2008-08-28T06:24:00.003-05:00

I played tennis last night with my teacher friends. The mood was a bit somber, as a local boy had been killed in a car wreck earlier in the day. I can't seem to get this out of my mind, and all I can think about is "What a precious life cut short," and "OH HOW HIS FAMILY MUST BE FEELING."

Apparently he was on his way to Athens, about 15 minutes from here, to register for community college at Trinity Valley. He just graduated from Mabank High this year.

This boy was apparently passing a car on the highway and had a head-on collision with an 18-wheeler. That highway is a pain, there are only a few places you can pass, and there are many blind spots where you just can't or shouldn't. Traffic tends to move relatively slow, there is construction going on, so if you're going to Athens you have to give yourself time. It can be a slow drive. We can't know why he passed a car or what he was thinking. I only know that I had it ingrained in me during a driver's safety course that "There is no place you have to be so important that it's worth risking your life over."

Accidents happen. Misjudgments, especially by the young, happen. But the consequences can be devastating.

The life of a handsome, vibrant 19 year old boy -- a young man with a whole life ahead of him -- was cut short yesterday, and a whole town grieves. Please say a prayer for the family of Wade Holt. Then tell your kids you love them and to BE CAREFUL.

A "private" post for my husband of 24 years.

2008-08-25T08:02:00.008-05:00

Happy Anniversary, Mark. On August 25, 1984, we had a lovely 5 p.m. wedding ceremony, and I got to be princess for a day. You were my prince. We had a great time. And boy were we young. This picture (scroll down) was at the start of our married life together and the start of 15 years in Colorado and nearly ten in Texas. Happy 'versary.

A P.S.

2008-08-23T16:56:00.005-05:00

I decided today after returning from another day in the city that one of the things I enjoy about back to school is the shopping.

Son number one and I hit the mall today, and it was good.

As the only woman in the family, I get to take charge of back to school and Christmas shopping. I'm the family expert. I like to spend money. And I'm good at it. Last week I took care of son number two, and today was time for number one.

The mall is a good experience twice a year. Since I went last weekend too, I've had my fill until the holidays.

For Nike tennis shoes, nothing beats Foot Locker. Apparently that's something everyone knows, because everyone was there. There were about ten guys in ref shirts working the floor, and doing a good job, getting shoes for people, two and three boxes at a time. We waited quite a while to get the shoes we had requested, and my son suggested we leave at one point. But I was into the vibe and in a good mood and in no hurry. It took a long time, but at the same time, it was an experience. The music was different, the people were different. Everyone had a posse just hanging out, and everyone was patient. The line to pay was incredibly long. But it was orderly, and no one made any trouble. Even me. I waited in line for 15 minutes and bought Nikes made in Vietnam for probably six dollars for 20 times that much. But they are cool, and my son is happy.

I enjoyed the Foot Locker experience. I'm into people watching and listening. This mall is an urban suburban mall. It was a microcosm of America. A melting pot. And today I stood in line at Foot Locker and melted.

P.S.S. I'm just a little down on the retail trend showcased at Hollister Co. It is too dark in those stores. I already have trouble seeing, and then they put me in the dark to buy clothes for my kids? And forget trying things on. The line was nuts. It would be a fire hazzard. I've been in three different stores and they are all the same. It's hard to see what you're buying. Fortunately it's just basic tshirts and polos. And the kids have to have it. At least it's cheap. But I hope this craze ends soon. And where's the fire marshall?

Back to School

2008-08-20T07:10:00.002-05:00

At the risk of being trite, and with the challenge of not being boring, it's that time of year for reflection.

Some people reflect at the end of the year, but for me "the year" always seems to begin fresh with the start of school.

I went to graduate school until and even after my kids were born, so except for a few short years in my early 20s and a few more between MBA and kindergarten, school and "back to school" have been a part of my life forever.

Monday is the start of school. We've had a nice long summer, and as the weather breaks and the rain falls gently, I know everyone is ready for a fresh start.

Back to school means back to schedules. Because I'm self-employed and work from my home, summer is a time when, if I choose, I can wake early, go to work early, and literally have five or even six hours in before one of my kids comes in to my office, rumpled and sleepy, and says, "Good morning, Mom." then "What's for breakfast?"

Once the "What's for breakfast?" starts, family responsibilities kick in and my focus has to shift. Once school starts, and breakfast comes early, the nature of my entire day shifts. I might get in a check of email and the completion of one or two things early, but breakfast, and football practice, and last minute scrambles for homework and permission slips and the search for a pen or that favorite clean shirt begins, and work just isn't happening until "a little later."

By necessity, when school starts, my work day starts and ends later. Sometimes much later.

But there is good in all things, and part of this schedule shift means I actually will be more accessible to clients on the other side of the world. I have two great clients in Australia right now. Their tomorrow morning starts in the late afternoon Texas time. (Don't think about it too hard.) On my summer schedule, that time of day rolls around and I'm wiped out, often having been at work for eleven or twelve hours (off and on) by that time. When school starts, that will correct itself.

So despite my distaste for schedules, back to school is a good thing. In far more ways than one.

Although I love having the kids around and we've been in a good groove this summer, everyone is ready for a change.

Amazingly, my kids seem to have burned out on video games. One son's xbox broke, and this, formerly a cause for major concern and panic, has allowed him to do other things, like play the guitar six hours a day. Now, before you say, "how quaint," please know that, although we do live in Texas, country strumming on a six string is not what's coming from his room. He's a rock guitarist with an amp, and there's no folkabilly, "easy listening to write by" stuff going on. That's not to say that what he's playing isn't good or catchy or even entertaining. He likes 80s rock -- good old Lynyrd Skynyrd and Black Sabbath, as well as alternative rock, and lately, television theme songs (next time you see "King of the Hill," think of me). There are enough doors between us that I can almost tune it out, but on days when he's learning something new, it can be trying. But persistence pays off. Six hours of guitar playing a day can make a kid pretty darn good. I'm not complaining.

My other son informed me the other day that he had put his game system up a week or back. "It's in my drawer," he said. I'm not playing it. Since his isn't broken, I'm not sure how long this will last, but he's filled his time with work, baseball and ESPN on TV, running around in the golf cart, and MySpace. I would call it a shift in the right direction.

School also means curfews and bed times and alarm clocks. It means dinner at a decent hour (not 9 p.m. after convenience store snacks have run out and Mom's back from tennis or Dad's done in the garage). It's the start of a new year.

I'm ready. We've done the back to school shopping. With boys, it's easy. I go to the mall, to stores they've specified, take cell phone pictures of t-shirts, mail them in for approval, then buy them. Sizing can be difficult, but this year I hit the mark. Dylan is happy with his five new shirts and football tote. I went 2 for 3 on Tanner, and we're hoping for "less scratchiness after washing" on one shirt. Both boys will need shoes -- usually an expensive venture, so always a last minute, lest their feet grow AGAIN, shopping trip. Yep, we're just about ready for back to school.

I'm ready for my fresh start, and I thank God for another really enjoyable summer.

Back to work!

Humbled by Their Grace

2008-08-01T05:58:00.005-05:00

If you've read my blog for any length of time you know that I get asked by friends to work for them (for "free") on a regular basis. Most of the time, I oblige, because I enjoy what I do, and the truth is I ALWAYS get something out of it.

Last week I was invited to dine with my neighbors two doors down. We attend the same church (well, they attend, I sort of "pre" tend lately), and our church recently sponsored a mission to the House of Hope, an orphanage for children of the Miskito Indians in Honduras.

There was no pretense in our dinner plans. My neighbor asked if I would write an article for the newspaper about their trip. She had been persuaded by our pastor, another friend of mine for whom I have done some advertising, to call me.

So despite the fact that my husband wrecked his car on the way home from work and was absolutely in no mood to socialize, I convinced him the wine would do him good, and we headed two doors down to dine with our neighbors. We took along my 89 year old best friend, Muriel, who I thought would enjoy the discussion.

The evening literally blew me away.

Ten people from our church went on this trip. The mission was to complete construction on a volunteer house where visitors like them could stay on future trips. The orphanage itself houses more than 30 children. Most have medical concerns born of malnutrition. Many have been to the states (to Dallas) for medical treatment, some are planning to come. The orphanage is run by a woman named Katrina who went to Honduras 20 years ago and never looked back. The work she does there is amazing.

Unlike orphanages in other countries, the children in this one are not adoptable. They are a protected class that cannot be adopted outside of their tribe, and yet most have been abandoned by their families due to their inability to care for them. It's an irony that is hard to understand, but it is simply the rule.

Our church got involved last year, after being introduced to the orphanage by Dr. John Loar, who happens to be our dentist. Dr. Loar was introduced by a dentist in Allen, Texas, who had been traveling to Honduras providing dental care for years. Last fall our pastor challenged our church to plan ahead to donate to the orphanage at Christmas. He suggested that we all match what we spend on our families with a check to the mission. On Christmas Eve, a collection was taken, and our congregation ponied up more than $38,000. Now we're not a mega church. This is a small church in a small town in Texas. Our normal Christmas eve offering is $600. The giving alone was a miracle.

Our neighbors -- a couple and their 18 year old son -- joined with 7 others, including three more teens, to make this trip. They drove to Houston, flew to Honduras, then flew from there in a small plane to an isolated area known unaffectionately as the Cocaine Coast. It's an area full of drug trade, poverty, and neglect.

For seven days this family and the other volunteers played and prayed with the children, mingled with the locals, and completed construction, not only on the volunteer house, but on a soccer field for the kids. Before and after dinner, Kristen and Rick shared with us a slide show of photos and told stories about their activities while there. They also shared stories about the beautiful children shown in each picture. It was an incredibly moving evening, with a story I look forward to sharing. To say that Mark and Muriel and I were moved goes without saying. In fact I came home wanting to go to Honduras. It's something I plan to do as early as next year.

My point in mentioning this here is mostly to light a fire under myself to write the story I agreed to write. It's also to remind everyone who reads this that there are people in the world living much more meager lives than ourselves. And yet they are people who have God in their lives, who smile beautifully, and who appreciate every tiny little thing that they have.

While my kids get $200 hockey sticks and $400 guitars, these children are thankful for a soccer ball that will hold some air. While my friends get bi-weekly pedicures and lunch at the club, women in Honduras walk five miles for a can of milk at the orphanage's milk bank to feed their weak and often dying infants.

Despite this, the children at the House of Hope are happy. The people in this country are happy. They have faith, love, and the support of those much more fortunate who make sure they have the clothing, school supplies, medical care and food they need -- not to propser, but to survive.

While we whine about gas prices to fill our big SUVs and the cost of a gallon of milk that we buy pasturized and cold at well-stocked store, others are happy for a simple blanket to call their own. I need to write this story, because it needs to be told. And once again, I'm not doing it for free. The lessons I learned and am internalizing just from hearing the story and seeing the photos at my neighbors' home was priceless. I look forward to sharing it with you.

Class Reunions

2008-07-23T10:34:00.003-05:00

Every ten years everyone who graduated from high school owes it to themselves to go to their class reunion.

We just returned from my spouses, and we had a great time. Now being the spouse of the person who is attending the reunion can be a drag, but in our case we went to the same high school, I was a sophomore when these guys were seniors, so I had no trouble at all having conversations with dozens of people I had known as a kid.

Since my husband and I are from the same town, we grew up doing the same things, from different elementary and junior high schools, and we didn't know each other until he was in college, really, but we do share that same home town experience. So did 100 other people in the room with us at his class reunion.

I have to tell you, there is something SO COMFORTABLE about conversing with people who are the same age and are from the same town and who experienced the same high school experiences as you did. It's always interesting to hear the different perspectives that they have from that time, and to hear about where they are now.

Reunion events have changed through our experiences going back. The earlist reunion - 10 years - was well-organized, well attended, included a tour of the high school, a golf tournament, a casual mixer, and a formal banquet with lots of dancing. We stayed up all night with friends, had breakfast at Perkins together and caught a 7 a.m. flight back to Denver. That was fun.

We weren't even sure we had been to Mark's 20th reunion, but he was in the picture they had displayed this year, so I guess we were there. That reunion was probably the most elegant, fairly expensive, and not as well attended. There was a formal banquet, slide show from the past, and dancing to music from the 70s. Everyone had kids and people were slightly more pretentious than they'd been in their 20s. We don't remember it very well, and I don't remember it as being really fun.

So when the time came to go to the 30th reunion, Mark decided he didn't want to go. He decided early. And he didn't undecide and decide to go until the weekend before the party. But we went. And I'm so glad we did.

This was the most casual of the reunions. We're all old. Some look just like they did in high school (my husband included) and they look good. You know those girls had been dieting for six months and it showed. They looked great. I don't think guys do that. But I think some get new clothes and did take an interest in putting their best foot forward. No pretentiousness. It was literally come as you are. Maybe 25% of the class was there. The ones there had fun. Lots of beer flowed, apple wine made at a classmate's winery flowed, food from a classmates Italian restaurant, including pies (what they apparently call pizza in Iowa now) enmasse. Very casual, very nice, very fun.

But where was everyone else? If 75% of the class doesn't show up...

Sadly, 5% are no longer living. That's a staggering number to me. 21 people. All under 50. The pictures were all there on the wall at both parties. Participants in the festivities who were missed and honored. Cancer, accidents, drugs, booze. Gone. There are more every decade. Several of those pictured surprised us. It is very sad.

But still, 70% didn't come. Why not?

It could be that the high cost of travel kept the 116 out of staters from attending. Whenever we asked "Where's So-So" the answer was "Florida," or "Buffalo," or "Austin." There had been three foreign exchange students in the class, and they weren't there, but there was a really nice photo from the yearbook and a poster with an e-mail from a girl from Japan. She wrote that she hoped people from the class would e-mail her. I hope they took pictures of her picture with them and sent them to her. She was a part of the festivities. Not a lot of people knew her, but she was missed.

Organizers told us there are 190 classmates still in the town, another 110 somewhere in the state (and Iowa is a small state). That accounts for most of the people there, but even if that's 60 people, where were the other 240 that live within easy driving distance in the town or state? Why didn't they come? I'm sure a certain percent, let's say 10% are "missing" with bad addresses or some reason why they can't be found. There are still lots more people who aren't there.

Could it be the ones who got picked on in high school didn't come? Could it be the ones that really wanted to come but had weddings or family event or vacations planned at the same time? Were there people who couldn't afford to come? The whole weekend cost something like $35. When coupled with a tank of gas is that asking too much? Maybe.

I don't know why the people didn't come. Maybe the ones who don't party and don't condone drinking don't come because they expect people to be loud and obnoxious. It was loud, but I didn't see anyone being obnoxious. And there's no smoking in Iowa, so that wasn't an issue. I don't think that anyone who didn't drink should have been offended by the environment. It was very pleasant and congenial. So why didn't they come?

Well, whatever the reason, they missed a good party, and had they come, they would have been welcomed and would have talked to people they possibly didn't even know 30 years ago. I know I did. And my husband did. Everyone was nice. Everyone was proud of their kids and had great stories to share. Some were divorced. None spoke of that with glee. But everyone laughed., or at least smiled. A lot. We ate well. We learned a lot about each other. A table full of us spouses even solved the world's energy crisis with our discussions while the classmates were out having their photos taken. It was interesting. A reunion of like souls, a concentrated demographic all in one place. It was a fascinating focus group.

Funny thing, it wasn't even my class. It was just a lot of nice people who went with a great attitude to see who would show up. If you didn't show up, you were missed. I wish people thought about that before they chose to not attend.

So go to your class reunion. If you don't show up, you will be missed. It's not that scary. Sure, we were nervous, but there wasn't any real reason to be. Go to your class reunion. You don't have to stay long if it's a bust, but I can practically guarantee it will be good for at least a few laughs. It's a fellowship that only comes around half a dozen times in your life. Take advantage of it. That's my advice for the day.

One Good Summer

2008-07-15T22:33:00.002-05:00

I passed by a mirror the other day and noticed I was smiling. It was a bit of a shock, because I suddenly realized I was having a good time.

When you're an adult with a family and a mortgage and a small business, it's sometimes not that easy to remember to have fun. This summer I think we've been doing a pretty good job of it around our house, and in my business too. It's making a difference with me.

Although we normally vacation in the summer and take a couple road trips (me and the boys), we've been home all summer thus far. I usually don't like to work as much in the summer, but now that the kids are older and want nothing to do with me, not to mention with costs going up like they are, I need to work more. I guess everyone does.

I don't mind. There seems to be plenty of work to choose from, and this summer I've resolved to take on only the work I really want. I have some partners I'm working with and that's been fun. Yes, so far my summer has been one of the best I can remember.

In addition to working with some really great people this summer and getting involved in some fun projects around things like the Olympics and film festivals and corporate giving, I've also been writing a lot. And I have a lot of ideas right now. Some are pretty good. Some make me tired. But overall, I'm a bit restless. It's the state I like to be in. The state where you get up early, and stay up late. Summer time.

If you're not having fun yet this summer you need a change of attitude. Remind yourself that it is summer. Sure we have to work hard. But play hard too. I've been to baseball games and water parks. I had a "girls day on the lake" and a few afternoons by the pool. I've played tennis, and I've been boating...it's been a good summer. I even heard my youngest say to my oldest as I headed out for a lunch with friends the other day, "Man, Mom has a lot of friends." Life in the summer can be good. Everybody wants to have fun.

Yes, indeed. Summer is definitely here. Enjoy it. When you catch yourself smiling, it feels good.

A Seismic Shift in Need of a Name

2008-07-11T06:42:00.006-05:00

Things are happening in the world today that indicate to me that we're at a point in history that will be remembered forever. At some point soon someone not unlike me is going to be involved in "naming" the current time period. I'm thinking of applying for the job. I'm just not sure who I need to contact about the work. Who owns this problem? Who is working to fix this?

Could it be our elected officials in Washington? Are they responsible? If you ask them, they are not. That's probably not the right place to send my application, even though I know a few people there. And with that "Kevin Bacon Six Degrees" thing I'm to a cell phone of a Texas Senator who probably would talk to me in two calls. None the less, Texas senators are not worried about the recession. The economy is pretty good here.

So, if the government doesn't want to own the project, perhaps the major television networks will name the recession. They have internal people and are themselves creative companies, so if the networks are going to do it, they'll do it themselves, and there won't be any work from them. In fact some 25 year old graphic designer will make a graphic to go with the name that will be used in 17 newscasts daily, as well as on the web site and during sure to happen "special reports."

Everyone is pointing fingers at the oil executives and oil industry, but let me tell you they are not concerned with the recession because they don't have a clue it is going on. I live in Texas, and I saw the fireworks displays, and I see the cars their kids get at 16, and I've heard about the homes. They are not sitting around thinking about the recession. Since they don't know it's going on, they don't own the problem and certainly are not about to take it on. They have their own PR nightmares ahead over the next 20 years as demand for supply increases, the bottom falls out for U.S. based oil companies, expenses increase, and the resource is somehow militarized. (China will have more cars on the road in 20 years than the U.S.)

Mortgage companies and banks and financial institutions are thinking about the recession. They helped cause a piece of it with lax lending practices and contributions to the "Sure you can afford it!" push for borrowing. But in my history, bankers don't like to spend money on "creative things." A name, attached to a campaign, is pretty creative.

The credit card companies might be a place to start. Hmmmm. Now if anyone knows about marketing ("What's in your wallet?" "Priceless" "The card that pays you back."....) it's the big credit card companies. At the helm are the big, big, big banks that don't like to spend money, but they have so much and are basically printing it, so they do fund big marketing campaigns. The Dr. Evil of them all is Bank of America. They own Citi or Chase or one of the other biggies. The credit card companies are masters supreme at creating businesses that own businesses that own businesses, and everyone pays the other one -- with interest. And somewhere in the bowels of the corporate megatheopolis is an accountant or an economics expert who has all of a sudden realized that as an industry, they just might be responsible for the recession.

Now the people who started it all are long retired and possibly even are burning in hell at this very moment. That's a scary thought. There were people a few decades back who took the innocence of an era and shifted it by making sure everyone had a Master Charge (remember that?) or Bank Americard (I think there were only two), which evolved into MasterCard and VISA, and there was Diners Club, and always American Express, and the gas companies got in on it with their charge cards. Competition in the card industry began, advertising got involved. Ads made people think they needed and DESERVED things they couldn't afford, and so began the half generation of spending that made America not only the greatest place to live, but also the nation with the most debt. And that consumer debt followed into the government sector, and our nation went into debt.

A lot of the debt has gone to fund tremendously expensive, dangerous and destructive military executions and wars in other parts of the world. I guess because as we became the most indebted nation, we became the most aggressive. So now that we're talking military, THERE is an industry that is well aware of the need for slogans and marketing. Today they are working it hard. High school parking lots are hang-outs for recruiters. There are thinly disguised "military" channels on DISH network that are 24 hour a day commercials for the Army, Navy, and Marines. The military is marketing to a generation of pacifist parents about the great opportunities in the military, the college educations that come from it, and how to accept that their kid wants to join. It scares me where this is all going. Especially as my oldest son looks at two years before he's 18. 18-year old boys do have to register with the Selective Service. If we're marketing to parents now, where is this headed?

So as I apologize for digressing all over the place, let me get back to the topic: the name for the current time period. Based on the above I believe that no one entity is going to take responsibility for the current recession or name it or take ownership of it. So basically I don't think there is anyone to send my proposal to offering my services in naming it. Except perhaps...it is a political year...perhaps this is what John McCain and Mr. Obama will do. Name the problem, and figure out the solution.

Just like when Mrs. Clinton figured out the health care crisis, took ownership of it, and promised to fix it -- during her husband's first term. Someone is going to take ownership of this problem. The sad thing is, tying yourself to the recession is risky. Even if you try to do it by naming the problem and focusing on the solutions, advisors will tell our candidates that's a "touchy" subject. The safe topics like "religion" and "abortion" and "race" will be the issues of this campaign.

I'm sure there are other clients who might be potential targets for my proposal to name the current time period: think tanks (is Avery Lovins still doing his?), perhaps colleges or universities, Consumer Reports? If I could put my confidence in one person to know what I was talking about, take it on, name it, own it, promote it, popularize it, and change society because of it, it would be Al Gore. He did it with the internet, he did it with global warming. He is the only one who can do it with the recession.

Al Gore, where are you? Does anyone have his cell number?

Waiting for Results

2008-06-13T07:16:00.005-05:00

In my business we sell creative services and our time focused on media relations. We do a good job with these things, but I've decided there is a definite problem with what I'm doing on a daily basis.

When someone hires me they are hiring me to do something that they can't do themselves. They are buying copywriting or media relations services, but what they really want to be buying is new business. They are investing (we tell them) in results.

Unfortunately, it is often the case that by the time someone comes to me, they have done so only after having tried everything themselves. They've read books they bought off of Amazon. They have listened in at lunch meetings to colleagues talk about branding or sales processes. They have attended the meetings their professional societies host on the topic of marketing or public relations. Sometimes they've even heard me speak at such a gathering.

So by the time they get to me, and to my colleagues who do what we do, they do have a basic understanding of what they want to do, as well as a clear understanding of why they need it. They are focused on that end result: the new business, the phone calls, the web hits, the money. And because we're such a society of immediacy, they want it now.

Getting into the public consciousness within your target market does not happen overnight. Unless you have a scandal or you develop a cure for cancer, you're not going to make the nightly news overnight. Even if you do get a front page business story or a business journal piece about your business, you may not see success as in new business or sales overnight.

I tell potential clients, "This stuff takes time." That's not a marketing ploy or a way to stretch out your payments to me or a sales tactic, that's the truth. It's a process and it takes time. If no one has heard of you in ten or twenty years, what makes you think you're front page news in three months? If you've never used a professional marketing person in your 15 year business history, why do you expect one campaign to make a huge difference in your business development and growth? Can it? Sure. Does it? Every day. Can you guarantee it? No.

Therein lies another obstacle to success doing what I do. Not only do people think they can have results in days, they want a guarantee. "If you want to make sure you're in the paper, buy an ad," I often tell them. And I do recommend advertising. There is a minimum amount of it you have to do as a business for so many reasons. Once you're doing that, and once you're supporting your own industry and promoting your own business, you have enough business to make the claims you want to make with PR. So many people have read a book telling them that PR is the answer. They don't have budgets for ads or design or printing. They want PR. PR takes time.

As much as I'd like to think otherwise, media people are not sitting around waiting to hear from me or you. I have connections in certain industries and I know a lot of people who will read my e-mails or take my calls, but most of these people are successful because they have their own minds and a strong work ethic, and they are working on a lot of different projects and following a number of different leads (and directives). I know there are not journalists left in American jobs just sitting there staring at their computer waiting for a story idea from me.

That's where the challenge and the fun comes in. I approach media relations like any marketing campaign. To start with I need a good product. I handpick my clients and usually know what I'm getting into before I get into it. Even with the troublemakers: I know up front. Then we work on the "marketing materials" -- the story angles, the key messages, the client education and media training, the "personality adjustments," -- helping them to understand how the media works, what they want, and how to give it to them if given the chance.

When I contact media professionals and when I write a press release for distribution or a wire service, I make it interesting, my pitches are well thought out, my stories are tied to key events, I look for news to use. I write it like they'd write it. I work with clients who really have something cool to "sell." I believe in their product or service and am not reading a script when I make a call. I'm speaking from the heart.

My clients want "results," and I head into every assignment hell bent on giving them to them. I am always confident I can do what I say I will do. And with most of my client relationships, we will get the results they want -- with time.

But because a lot of clients chewed up their time before they got to me by NOT doing the right sorts of good work, or advertising, or marketing, the one thing they feel a little tight on when they get to me is time. They need results now. I'm sometimes their last resort. No one ever tells me that until we're three months into it and they start screaming about the money spent and their concern over return on investment, i.e. results achieved.

Sometimes there is a mismatch at an early date. Lots of WORK has been done: press releases written and sent, media calls made, research done, opportunities found, pitches made, marketing materials created, web sites updated, a significant amount of money spent, but nothing perceived as "results" have been achieved.

Since what I'm selling are my time and my team's time for creative services and media relations assistance, why do clients take it out on me when they have no results right away? Because early on we mistakenly tied our services to results. This works in certain industries, but it usually does not work in PR. Marketing can be tied to results, and sales efforts can be tied to results, but PR not so much.

I can get you an interview with the New York Times, yet there's no guarantee that what the guy writes is going to benefit you from a "sales" perspective.

Using the mass media to benefit your business is a high level strategy. Every business thinks they want it. Not every business is ready for it or truly deserves it. It is true that any business can have it if they are willing to put in the time, spend the money, invest in the integrated aspects of marketing and business development, and actively participate as we "wait" for the results.

All I know is that it became clear to me today while working through a few new proposals that I need to do a better job up front really explaining to my clients what they are paying for when they decide to work with OutreachPR. I want them to really want the service they are buying. I want them to know I'm going to be in it for the long haul and I'm going to deliver what I say to them, and they are going to appreciate it, maybe not every day as we move along through the process, and maybe not early on, but absolutely, positively, in the future, if they just give it enough time, they'll see the results.

I have clients I've worked with four, six, ten years. It's not because I'm "still working on results." We have proven results. They get the process. It is all about effort, persistence, frequency, and time. Without exception, these clients fidgeted early on, and worried about expenditures versus results. But they learned to actively participate in the process, trust in the effort, and wait for the results. Like everything in life, the things worth having are worth the wait.

A Red Letter Day

2008-06-06T08:18:00.003-05:00

Yesterday was a red letter day for me. It was the first day of my life that one of my children spoke these words: "Mom, I'm going to work."

After I heard those words I could not quit smiling. I called my husband and told him, "Your son just went to work." "What?!" he exclaimed. "Where?" "Up at the club. He went up to clean the pool. He's starting as a Pool Club Assistant." "Wow. Great!" I think Mark was in as much disbelief as I was myself. After all, this is a kid who has never made his bed without prompting, does not yet know how to do his own laundry, and still asks me to make him a sandwich. But he hopped in the car and drove himself to work. Turning 16 has brought him many opportunities for freedom, including the opportunity to make his own money. I'm pretty excited about this leap in maturity.

I will admit, I pretty much expected Tanner to come back within an hour and say, "No, that wasn't for me," but he stayed up at the club for more than three hours, apparently scrubbing the sides of the pool with a long handled brush. It was a little boring, he said, but it was easy. I guess he did a good job, because he came back last evening with the paperwork he needs to fill out in order to receive paychecks -- twice a month. He's pretty psyched. Although I notice by the clock on the wall that his mommy may have to wake him up soon to get him to work on time today, at least last night he was excited to go back.

It probably helps that the lifeguards at the pool are girls. Older girls, in fact. College girls home for the summer. I'm sure they probably think Tanner is pretty cute. He is. And at 6 feet, 200 pounds he's a big boy. He looks a little older than he is, but it's an illusion that will quickly be shattered when those girls try to talk to him. He's very shy, especially with girls. This will be good for him in that regard. I know he'll be getting a few looks. He's in shape. Hockey has made his legs strong. Weight lifting has given his upper body definition. Yes, I'm sure the girls at the club are going to be happy he's joined the staff. Of course that gives me cause for pause.

Since I'm scheduled for a pool-side pedicure this afternoon, and little brother plans to spend his afternoon up at the club, I guess we'll both get to witness him on the job in person later today. That will probably embarass him that I'm there, but as long as I don't talk to him, it will be okay. Little brother will think it's pretty cool that Tanner is getting paid. I'm sure that in between dunking pre-teen girls and playing keep away with an errant tennis ball, Dylan will be watching his brother, hopefully a little envious, dreaming of the day when he too can be a Pool Club Assistant.

I'm one proud momma today. My baby has a job.

Insanity in Numbers

2008-06-03T07:56:00.004-05:00

I heard on the news this morning that between Barrack Obama and Hillary Clinton they've spent more on television ads than in any campaign in history. The number was staggering -- in the hundreds of millions of dollars. Since most Americans tuned out of this election months ago, I'm sitting here wondering why this makes sense and how insane it is that the candidates themselves would allow this sort of ridiculous spending to take place.

Do these candidates know that people are running out of gas on the roadways as they try to stretch their last third of a gallon to the next station? TV executives are fat and happy, but has the spending by the candidates really benefitted anyone? With the whole super delegate and electoral college thing, does it really matter what we think anyway? Who does this benefit?

John McCain, on the other hand, has spent about $11 million on televison advertising. That doesn't sound insane. I'm sure his ad agency has instead spent its money on some really "Wow" creative that we'll see after the conventions. That, after all, is when the real spending begins.

I've just been hearing some crazy numbers lately. It happens when I watch the news, which by and large I don't. But when I do, I hear things like this advertising thing, and also, "It's going to cost the State of Texas $21 million to take care of these 400 children from the compound in Eldorado this year." This year? What are we doing for these kids? Building them homes?Funding their college accounts? Feeding them fresh seafood flown in daily? I'm blown away. Not to mention why the heck does the state have these kids anyway? We can't take care of the ones that really need state intervention. It's insanity.

So I'm trying to not become insensed by these numbers and by the news you hear on TV in general. I really don't pay attention, and it's for good reason. I tend to get emotional about this stuff. And when I get emotional I don't focus on my work. And to pay for things these days I have to work. So I'm going back to my billing and will forget that Hillary and Barrack are spending more on some stupid ad to reach one super delegate than I will make in the next five years, and I'm paying $5 for a gallon of milk, $4 for a gallon of gas, my clients are doing the same, no one is too happy about it, spending is slowing...and yet I'm in the midst of these Texas oil people (who are everywhere here, God Love 'Em), and they can't stop smiling.

I just need to get back to work because, by the way Hillary, by the way Barrack, and you too Mr. McCain, I have to work more every month just to stay even. I'm lucky I have that option. Most Americans do not.

Time to Party

2008-05-28T09:54:00.004-05:00

I've decided I'm going to have a party and invite everyone who has ever been mad at me. I figure that there will be more people at that sort of party than at a party of people who I haven't rubbed wrong at least once.

And here's my theory about that: I'm a passionate person. I typically try to do my best for people and am always focused on results. As a result, when people get in my way of results or question my methods or my timing or my ability to perform basic tasks, I react in ways that by some are considered to be "over reactions" and by others to be "unprofessional." I am good at pissing people off. Fortunately it doesn't happen too often, but still, I probably should not be allowed to talk to clients...sadly there's no one to stop me or to do it instead of me, so it's a bit of problem.

One client told me yesterday that I was unprofessional because I suggested that perhaps I wasn't the best person to work on his account. I thought that was very nice of me. I have his best interests in mind. This same client reminds me weekly of what I'm not doing right and pretty much ignores the things I am doing. Another client got upset with me last week because his "no hurry" project became a "rush" without my knowledge, and when I said his project would be "forthcoming asap" (meaning as soon as I can get to it), he called that sort of deadline "silly and ridiculous." Being called unprofessional or silly or ridicuolous doesn't motivate me to do a good job for someone. Perhaps it used to, but at my age, I tend to be a little less willing to bend than the service business I am in probably requires. I'm usually working as hard as I can and trying my best for people. I typically go above and beyond and at least try things, although they don't always work. And if someone doesn't appreciate the effort or my style of doing it, I quickly lose my interest in their project and definitely lose my motivation. Because this is a commercial venture, I try to continue to plug away, but the less focused I get on results and the more focused I get on keeping people happy, the more uninteresting the work becomes to me. And if I lose interest, professional or not, I can't be as effective doing what I do.

It's funny, usually the happier my clients are, the less I'm probably doing for them. If I'm making them uncomfortable or causing them to be concerned about being able to accomplish something we've set out to do, or if they are spending money on something that makes them a little nervous, that typically means we have some good ideas that we're pursuing that are not easy to accomplish and that, if allowed to work, will work great. But lately, doing my job without making people uncomfortable or even mad is becoming harder and harder to do.

I don't know if it's the economy, or pressure people are under to make more money or make their paychecks stretch farther, but the people I deal with seem to be getting agitated much easier than I'm used to. I think I may be getting agitated easier too.

Even my kids are mad at me lately for things like not letting them drive my car to school or making them pick up their rooms. I know everyone isn't mad at me, but having even a few people mad at you can be a very demotivating factor.

But as I said, if I really think about the best client relationships I've had, they have been at times adversarial. Why? Because I've fought for the things I wanted to do or for the ability to try it my way. Clients have complained about things I haven't done and wished I'd done something else. I've worried about budgets, clients have worried about budgets. We've "fought" about money, about strategy, and about effort. Usually it works out and everyone understands the other's position. Sometimes it just can't be fixed. Sometimes when they don't treat me right, I just don't care. Because it is not all about the money.

Some weeks it feels like everyone is piling it on and I can't do anything right. So I've decided to have this little party and invite everyone who has been mad at me for something at least once in my life. I'll have to rent a big hall and hire a great caterer. I'll need several weeks head start to get ahold of everyone I've ever disappointed, but I think that when they all come together, it's going to be an impressive group. If I could bring the people both living and dead who I had disappointed, that would be even better. My dad could be there: he didn't like the way I did lots of things, and pleasing him was always a goal. My old boss from Syntex could be there if he were still alive. He was disappointed in how I didn't keep my nice car spotless and how I refused to side with management rather than "the masses" when developing messages that were supposed to bail him out of something he'd agreed to that corporate wanted us to support.

My mom would be there because of that time I forgot to reschedule the court date for probating my dad's will, and I forgot. My husband could be there for all the thousands of times I've pissed him off through the years. And my kids...they'd be there, along with sales people whose calls I didn't return, and ad reps whose ads I didn't buy.

Clients: I've got eleven years of them, and most have probably been upset with me at one time or another. I don't ever remember being fired, per say, but I've probably come close many times, usually when I didn't care, and I've certainly not sought contract renewals with clients that were hard to please or usually mad at someone or something. Old bosses who trained me only to leave and co-workers who thought I should have stayed on at jobs with a future would be at this party. My neighbors would be there for that fireworks incident. Some teachers would be there and school administrators. When I think about it, I've mad a lot of people mad in my life. There was the cousin whose wedding I cancelled out on and the reunion I didn't go to and the friend I didn't call while in Florida. Yes, if I invited everyone whose been mad at me I would have a huge crowd at a party.

Now why would anyone want to be in a room full of people who they have angered? I guess because if I didn't care about these people or their causes I would not have bothered to express my opinion to them or assert my dissent. If I didn't care if an event was successful or if a publication picked up a story...if I didn't care if my son's hair was cut so that he stayed out of trouble or that a room was clean for "health reasons" these people wouldn't be mad at me. But because I care about the success of clients and their events, I tell them what I think and inform them of my concerns. I don't react well to being micro-managed and I need to work on that. I don't like being told, "Because I'm paying you to do it that way." But I need to accept that as a good excuse for why someone is mad.

The party is forthcoming. If I've made you mad, you're invited. And if I haven't made you mad yet, give me a call. I'm sure that with a few months of getting to know me, I could find a way to get under your skin too. And when everyone is in the same room, I'm going to flick the lights off and on, ask for a drum roll, and then say, "I'm sorry." It's going to be a great party.

Protecting American Jobs

2008-05-13T08:24:00.005-05:00

People who know me know that I'm a bit of a rebel. Usually I keep that side of me contained and only use it to point out the insanity and corruption in things like school board policy, evil superintendents, and ridiculous politics. We have all of those things right here in east Texas. Sometimes I go outside those bounds, like yesterday.

I get some work off a website where employers post projects and freelancers bid on them. I've made a few thousand dollars doing that over the last year, and it's been a nice source of extra income. Yesterday I received an invitation to bid on a particular project, and when I went to look at the posting, something about it just hit me wrong.

In summary, the posting read, "Web design firm based in India seeks U.S.-based freelancers to sell services to U.S. firms. Hefty pay for performance." At the time I saw the posting there were three bids already posted, two from the U.S. and one from India. I had no intention of bidding on a job that had as its goal offshoring work that should remain in the U.S., and I was amazed that two of my fellow U.S.-based freelancers had bid.

So I went to the discussion board that is typically reserved for asking questions specific to the job and I wrote, "Hi, Thanks for the invitation to bid. If I read your message correctly, you are in India and are looking for marketing professionals here in the US to market your web design services to US clients, for which you will pay "hefty" commissions, is that correct? Do you want us to include in our bid a copy of the paperwork that shows we sold our souls to the devil for the almighty buck as well? Thanks!"

Within hours my comment had been removed by the moderator and I had been strongly reprimanded by the freelance service, which reminded me that if I wasn't interested in a job I simply should not bid on it.

I did notice, however, that there has only been one other bid since my posting, so perhaps I encouraged others not to bid as well.

There's something just wrong, wrong, wrong with trying to help countries that are themselves economic powerhouses steal jobs from people in the U.S. I'm not exactly a patriot. Most days I'm not proud to be an American. In fact, I'm usually pretty embarrassed by things like American television, American sports fans, American greed, American stupidity, and American politics.

But when it comes to protecting American jobs from people who are, frankly, sucking the dollars out of our economy, I'll stand up every time.

So I may not be the most popular person on the freelance web site right now, but at least I can hold my head up high and know that I have not sold my soul to the devil for the almighty dollar.

God Bless America.

Doing Good Around the World

2008-05-07T16:55:00.004-05:00

There are days that humble us all. Today I received an article from my friend and favorite graphics designer Alexa Croft.

The article from the San Francisco Chronicle was about a Modesto, California doctor: Dr. Frank Artress, who had experienced a near-death incident while on vacation in Africa. When the natives helped him to survive his ordeal (which involved getting him over a mountain top), he made the decision, along with his wife, to go back home and sell everything -- the big house, the ocean condo, the art, the matching silver sports cars, the stocks -- everything, and move to Africa.

Dr. Artress has spent the last several years fighting tropical diseases he never knew existed, first from a hospital in Tanzania, and now from the bush, where he treats tribal members, provides antibiotics, and reaches deep into the jungle and developing civilizations. Alexa sent me this article because her sister-in-law, Amber Croft, spent the last several months working with this doctor. Amber's photo was one of several that accompanied the really wonderful article in the San Francisco Chronicle. I'm sure Amber will have incredible stories of her own to tell.

I've attached the link here.

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2008/05/04/BA8MUSL28.DTL&hw=higher+calling+in+africa&sn=001&sc=1000

A Simple Little Project

2008-04-28T16:42:00.005-05:00

I've decided there is no such thing as a simple little project. At least when it comes to home improvement.

My front lawn has a section that has been filled with little white rocks. I don't like these rocks, and I have thousands of them.

I decided I needed to get rid of them. I've been planning my strategy for a while. Today was the day I decided I would start. I stopped for a cup of coffee on my way to town to help rev my engine. Friends were there so I chatted for a while, then went on to my mother's to borrow her wheel barrel. No quick trip there. The cleaning ladies were there, and since they used to clean my house, I had to chat for a while. Nice people. I had to chat with my mom for a while too, so by the time I got home with the wheel barrel, I was already well beyond my 90-minute window. Good thing I'm self-employed.

I started my project. I filled up the wheelbarrel with rocks, which I discovered requires picking them up by hand. Searching for my gloves caused a ten minute delay. Once you pick the rocks up by hand, you put them on a shovel, get a good load, and then dump them all in the wheelbarrel. Yes...I've tried to use the shovel to dig them up directly, but it doesn't work because of the protective liner under the rocks. The hand method seems to be the only way. Anyway, today I learned that a section of about 1 foot by 3 feet of current rocks equals one wheelbarrel about half full. Half full is a lot, but I'm about 1/48th of the way done.

But as soon as I got the wheelbarrel full I realized the tire on the wheelbarrel was flat. Fortunately we have an air compressor, so I went in the garage and found it, backed my car out of the drive next to the wheelbarrel, plugged the compressor into the phone charger slot and filled up the tire. I was proud.

When I got to the back yard where this first load of rocks was going, I realized I now had to weed the new area. An hour later when I had the area weeded, I realized I needed to wash the rocks. (Yes, I am obsessive. I know it.)

After washing the rocks, I realized that all rocks are not created equal. I spent the next hour sifting through the rocks picking the best white ones, washing and rinsing again, and picking the best again. Then I started sorting the non white ones into a pile. I had rocks with yellow, rocks with rust, rocks with a rosy color, silver rocks, and even some black rocks. I picked out all the best white rocks and made a border around my new rock garden in the back. I got done with that and lined the boarder with non-white rocks, yellow first every foot or so, then red filling in, then the gray ones, and finally the black. The rest of the "okay" rocks got poured into the body of the bed and spread with the shovel. It looks good.

My 90-minute project turned into five hours. But it's a good start. At this rate, I should be done in August. Glad I got it started though.

Meaning of Life, Part Two

2008-04-16T08:18:00.004-05:00

I've decided this week that I have no problems.

What I have are mere obstacles. I know a couple people who truly have problems. Multiple obstacles that have joined together as a larger "problem." A lot of it comes down to health. Physical and mental health.

If all you have are obstacles, you can pray for the focus to use the talents that you have inside you to overcome them. It's amazing what we achieve when we do that. Since problems are just bunches of obstacles, with a lot of prayer and focus, we can usually overcome those too. Or I'd like to think that.

So many people don't know what to do when they face obstacles. (And remember, that's the easy part.) If they do nothing, repeatedly, obstacles in their lives join together and become problems. It's not behavior that can't be changed, but it's behavior that does change people into believing that they really cannot control what happens to them.

When you have problems you have so many choices about how to deal or not deal with them. But when it's the first time we've dealt with an issue, and we don't know what to do, and we try to handle it ourselves, and we don't ask others for help, sometimes we choose the wrong thing.

I don't think we have to make it all so hard. I find that prayer works for me. Some might call it meditation, chi kung, hypnosis. I get mine from prayer. Because we're only human.

"We're only human? What does that mean? "
"I thought the human was at the top of the food chain brain-wise."
"We're sort of in charge here. Aren't we? "

Think about that while you drink your morning coffee.

Something new, and probably rare:
Morning prayer: Dear Lord, thank you for this beautiful day. In Texas the sun is shining the trees are blowing, the mowers are mowing. [Down here someone would say at this point cry out, "Hallelulah!" another would shout "Amen!"]

"Dear God, Jesus taught us to worship you and to believe. Too often we don't take the time for that. But if we just did it, and used the time to thank you for what we have, to focus on what we need, and ask for direction, our lives and the lives of those around us would be forever improved. "

Jesus walked around the world telling people to follow. Follow what? Follow him? Yes, and no.

He wanted us to follow God's plan. He wanted us to know how much God appreciates our praise, our thanks, our time. So today fit in a talk with God. Thank him for your blessings. Ask for his favors in helping you focus on the things that really need to get done.

I believe God wants me to share my "bounties" with others, and that sounds great, but I have to achieve those bounties to share them. That's my job today.

What's yours?

Martha, Martha

2008-04-14T07:26:00.004-05:00

In the early quiet hours of today I received a devotional from a magazine called CALLED, for whom I have considered writing, but for which I have not found the time.

Anyway, the devotional for the day was the story in Luke about Martha, the woman who welcomed Jesus into her home and then busied herself with all the cooking and serving, while her sister Mary sat at the feet of Jesus and listened. Martha was so angry with her sister, but Jesus said to her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part..."

My goal this week is to be a little more Mary and a lot less Martha. It's going to be a beautiful day.

The Meaning of Life

2008-04-10T08:43:00.003-05:00

I'm no genius. In fact the older I get the more I realize how much I don't know. But I do think that life isn't supposed to be so hard. It's not supposed to be stressful. It's supposed to be filled with love and with people we care about.

Instead, in this day and age, we fill our lives with work. We try so hard to make things happen. It makes me wonder what would happen if we just sat back and let it unfold. Maybe that's the secret to happiness. I know I'd like to see what happens if I take that approach -- even just for a while.

When it comes to my work I usually am pretty confident and I'm dedicated and I work hard. I know how to get things done and how everything seems to fit together. In my personal life it isn't quite that easy. People we are supposed to care about are the ones that hurt us the most. People we're supposed to care about are the ones we're mean to. People we care about the most are the ones who disappoint us. I just don't get it.

So today I've decided to try something new. I am lowering my expectations for everything. I am going to be fine with working eight hours a day and stopping. If I don't get my work done, too bad. I'm going to be fine with not having my house as clean as I'd like and not having the laundry up to date. I'm going to be fine with having little to nothing in the pantry. I'm going to be fine with towels on the floor and dishes and soda cans scattered in the bedrooms. I'm going to be fine with kids who don't do their homework or who choose to wear shirts that look like they slept in them.

I have a theory on this. I think that what I will find is that letting these things go won't screw up my life. What it just might do is make it easier to get up in the morning and face the day. I think it will ease the pressure. I'm going to open up my mind to new possibilities and forget for a while about what society says I'm supposed to do.

I'm doing this because I want to find the meaning of life. So far, in my 40 plus years on this earth I haven't found the happiness that I think we're supposed to have. I haven't found that thing that makes me hang on to life and appreciate it and realize how precious it is. Maybe by cutting out all the pressure and the expectations, I can find that.

Because one thing I know is that life is short and for the last many years, despite the successes I've had with my business and my acquisition of material things, and the good work I've done for my clients, I haven't had much fun. I can no longer truly say that I am really happy or that I am having a great time. Maybe by relaxing a little and opening my mind to new possibilities I will.

I'm on a quest for the meaning of life. I'll let you know if I find it.

My best "family" vacation

2008-03-24T13:43:00.003-06:00

I just returned from a vacation, and for the first time in a long time, I don't actually feel like I need a vacation. I guess that means "mission accomplished!"

So where did we go? We went to Destin, Florida. It's an easy drive from where we live, and it's a great place to get to once you've arrived. White sandy beaches, glorious blue Gulf waters, and a resort with four golf courses, 15 tennis courts, and 17 swimming pools is a nice place to be. This particular resort also allowed for four hours of "free" bike rental each day and an hour of "free" tennis, as well as "free" transportation via shuttle buses anywhere within the 2400 acre compound. It was a pretty nice place. Sort of a Disneyland for adults.

Of course, no matter where you go, if you take your kids you're going to deal with that necessary kid evil: boredom. Yes, even with golf courses, bike paths, shopping, tennis, dozens of swimming pools and the Gulf of Mexico at your doorstep, if you're 15 or 13, this sort of paradise is actually "boring." Who would have thunk it?

Fortunately, my husband and I have gotten to that ripe old age where we, frankly, just don't care. It sort of bugged us at first -- the fact that the kids had no interest in watching the sun set on the beach and the fact that they thought bike riding was "geeky." We were concerned that they whined a little at the swimming pools being cold and the "game room" having only four games in it. I guess after nearly 16 years of being parents we're done trying to keep them constantly entertained. Besides, if a five star resort can't do it, who can? I've decided that teens are actually on a mission to be miserable, so we decided to let the kids do what they wanted to do this vacation and be bored. It certainly helped that we were having a great time -- enough so that we really didn't notice how bored the kids were.

Yes, we rode bikes and felt the thrill of the warm winds on our faces as we raced along the manicured paths. We played tennis as often as we could, enjoying the clay courts and the warm spring sunshine. We even hung out at the pool, where we sampled adult beverages, listened to live entertainment, watched the spring breakers in their bikinis and smiled at the parents busily entertaining their younger children.

"I wonder what the kids are doing?" one of us would occasionally say. "Who cares?" the other would answer. Of course we did care, but we weren't real concerned. There wasn't much for them to get in trouble with at this resort. With security guards at ever access point and "free" transportation anywhere they needed to go, we didn't have to worry about carting them around. We saw them at the miniature golf once. (They pretended they didn't know us.) We waved at them at the pool once. (They pretended they didn't see us.) And we showed up back at the condo with ice cream and a few groceries every day around 4, just to make sure they didn't starve.

Yes, we went to Florida and mostly our kids stayed inside. With three televisions in the condo, and two or three game systems brought from home, plus a fully stocked refrigerator and resort keys that allowed them to charge anything they really needed, we weren't too worried about their entertainment needs.

Yes, I've finally gotten to the point where I love family vacations.

Technology

2008-02-21T15:23:00.003-06:00

I've been writing my blog for almost a year now, and I'm starting to bore myself. So in the interest of spicing things up a bit, I've decided to start a series of articles about things that we take for granted.

Today's topic is cell phones.

I grew up in an era before cell phones. Today I marvel at how we as a society survived.

Just a few minutes ago my husband called me to ask if he should pick up our youngest son since it was raining. He wondered if they'd still have track practice after school. Since I hadn't noticed it was raining and don't usually pick up the kids, I told him to call his son. Of course the logic there is flawed, because kids don't carry cell phones when they are running around a track in the rain. Or so one would hope.

Going back a few decades, I don't mind telling you that I had the benefit of being on the leading edge of the mobile phone phenomenon. When I worked in media relations for the utility company in the late 1980s, we had a car we would drive to sites away from corporate that had a phone in it. Our department also had a mobile phone that we traded between us depending on which of the three reps was on call. I don't mind telling you that, although the phone in the car was cool, that "mobile phone" was in retrospect a really funny thing.

If you watch old episodes of 1980s cop shows, you might see the type of phone I'm about to describe. It was very similar to the phones you also saw in war-era movies, like Vietnam or maybe even WWII era. The guys on the field had a big phone (ten inches at least) with a long antennae, and a huge battery pack that traveled with it. That's what our department phone was like. It came with a suitcase -- a very heavy suitcase -- that included the charger. The phone had a battery, but it didn't last long. The EMFs that came off the phone will probably be my demise in another 20 years, but at least I could talk to Channel 4 or a radio station from a restaurant on a Saturday night and explain a local power outage. Besides, having a mobile phone was way cool.

I bought my first cell phone -- a Motorola Flip Phone, remember those? In 1994. I was pregnant with my second child and felt I needed the security of having a cell phone. My husband had given me a mobile CD player for my birthday, but I returned it and bought that phone. It was so cool.

A year or so later I bought a BMW that had a cool car phone in it. We never hooked it up, but my by then toddlers loved to play with it and pretend we were in an airplane calling the tower.

Flash forward a decade or more and I now pay for five cell phones on a shared plan with bills so complicated I'd never understand them. All I know is that two out of three times I try to reach anyone whose phone I pay for I get their voice mail.

Not to mention that the new house we bought is in the country and the cell service here is abominable. We all have to go outside the house to get a decent signal, and our phones never ring. They go straight to voicemail. Even if we do connnect, we're roaming and we tend to lose the signal within ten minutes. It's helped all of us keep our chatting to a minimum and keeps me under my maximum minutes.

But what did we do before cell phones? How did we tell our spouse to pick up milk or tell the kids we were running late? How did mothers get their kids to meet them in the drive to carry in groceries? I guess they had to go inside and yell for the kids. I find the cell phone much more civilized.

At the same time, I liked it back before clients or employers knew how to reach you if you weren't around. I liked it when people wouldn't dream of calling me at home or late at night. They wouldn't expect me to pick up a call or retrieve a message and return a call on a Saturday morning. In the era of cell phones, there's no excuse for being out of touch.

Now I remember what I did before cell phones. I focused on my driving, listened to more music, and didn't dally to my destinations. I worried about being on time because there was no time to stop and find a pay phone. I returned missed calls because the people really did miss me, not because I had avoided them the first time around. I legitimately got back to people the next day, rather than feeling guilty for holding off until then.

I also didn't pay thousands of dollars every year for the privilege of being reachable 24/7. I'm not sure what I did with all that money I saved, but I think those were easier times. Phone calls used to be cherished things (remember "Reach out and touch someone...") not requirements.

Now I do like text messaging, and I find that to be the best way to reach my kids. In fact, I can sit in my living room and say, "Dylan, Dylan, DYLAN" and get no answer from my son's room. But if I text him a message saying, "Dylan, please come here," he'll usually respond. Oftentimes with a message that says "Y?" But at least I'm communicating with my kids.

Ah, technology. It really is a marvelous thing.

People and Polos - the Trade Show

2008-02-13T21:13:00.003-06:00

I have to say that I still can't think of a better way to meet a whole lot of people and really launch a public relations program than at a trade show.

The International Builders Show attracts hundreds of thousands of people every year. It's the trade show of trade shows, and a lot of people attend to see the coolest building products, appliances, tools, trucks, and windows, lots and lots of windows.

I've been coming to this show for several years. Not every year, but at least every other. It's been in Orlando at least five years running. I'm looking forward to when it goes back to Vegas, but for now I've at least become comfortable with getting around Orlando. The best thing about trade shows is the friendly people.

The people you meet at a trade show are immediate friends. After all, you all have something in common because you're at the same show. I enjoy working a booth and talking to people. I swipe cards and provide product information as best I can. It's a great place to meet all the ad reps and editors that I hope will someday help promote my clients.

But I like wandering around a trade show and typically I manage to avoid being stuck in a booth for any extended period of time. I've worked a lot of booths, for a lot of different clients. I can do it, but it's just not very good or me to be confined in a 20 x 10 space for several hours at a time. It's like being an animal in the zoo.

Now something I don't like: I don't really like polo shirts. I'm the only person in Orlando at this time without one -- guaranteed. Everyone at a trade show wears a branded polo shirt. I have never asked clients for one and have never had a client make me one. So I show up without my uniform, stick out like a sore thumb, and that's pretty much okay with me.

If you're a potential client and you're reading this, you should know I'm real good at a trade show. I like to talk to people and I learn quickly, so I can at least pretend I know what I'm talking about and do it convincingly. I also do a good job tracking down media people and giving them client information -- when I'm not stuck in a booth.

One thing that will probably never change though, I don't own and probably never will own a polo shirt. Please don't ask me to wear one. Thanks.

No more George - Thank God!

2008-01-29T07:00:00.000-06:00

George Bush gave his last State of the Union address last night. I didn't watch because the man annoys me, but I must say that simply knowing it was his last address of that nature to this country as our Commander in Chief has made this a very, very good day.

By the way, for those of you die-hard Republicans who think you need to lambast me for the above paragraph, please know I am not a Democrat. I am also not a Republican. I am a free-thinking American who has been unimpressed (and yes, embarrased) with and by "W" since the day he was elected governor of Texas. The fact that he stole the office of president with a little "hanging chad" B.S. in his brother's state made my respect for the system wane. When no one bothered to campaign in Texas the last time around because the state was going for George that really pissed me off.

I'm just really, really happy that we have less than a year of that bozo left. I just hope he stays on the ranch and doesn't screw up anything else.

By the way, if you want to see who he's really working for, check out the photos you'll find on Google or Yahoo of his month. When you see him wining and dining with the Sultans in Saudi, note the happy looks on his face as compared to when he's doing his real job back here in the U.S. Filled up your tank lately? Blame George. He and his buddies are richer than ever. The rest of us are not.

And if today his "Save the economy" package passes, remember that the check you get from the government will need to be claimed on your taxes next year. There are no winners with this jerk. Except for the American people when he finally gets on that helicopter for the last time and rides off in the sunset.

Good riddance.

Change Needed

2008-01-25T09:51:00.000-06:00

Small town Texas is alive and well in 2008, complete with every stereotype you can imagine. Some of us remain outsiders, no matter how long we've been here. I will forever be a Yankee in these parts, even though I technically left "the north" around 1980. I'm a worldly Yankee though, influenced greatly by college spent in the south, 15 years living at altitude becoming eco-savvy in the west, and nearly a decade here in Texas.

For those of you who don't know, the south is different. Everyone knows people here talk funny. It's annoying when you first arrive. Everyone sounds stupid. But it grows on you until you eventually adopt a twang yourself. In my case, I can turn it off or on depending on present company. Because most importantly, in the south, you need to blend in. They don't really like outsiders.

Above the Mason Dixon line (wherever that may be), you may be surprised to learn that "Yankee" is still a dirty word in Texas. It comes with all sorts of connotations, like "Cold Fish," "Direct," "Know it All," even in some cases "Evil." One only needs to say, in reference to someone being talked about in some negative connotation, "He's a Yankee," and everyone in the room will nod and say things like "Oh..." or "Hmmmm..." or "That figures."

Because I use my twang when appropriate, and because I've been around a while, not everyone in town knows I'm a Yankee. But I was born in Milwaukee and raised in Indiana and Iowa, by third or fourth generation Yankees. In fact my family has been Yankee since the American Revolution.

At the risk of sounding like a Yankee. In this part of the country, more than anywhere I have ever been, they seem to celebrate and even reward ignorance, at least among elected officials. These folks put a bubble over the town and pretend the outside world does not exist. Life here is "better" than anywhere. We pray in school and before county government meetings. We teach abstinence -- not birth control - to kids and shrug our shoulders over our outrageous teen pregnancy rate. Because life is good here. It's the south.

Now everyone knows you can't talk politics or religion and avoid conflict. In our town, religion is discussed, faith is proclaimed, and as long as you go to church you're okay. Politics is another story.

The other day I heard something really amazing. An elected official in our town was discussing the recent resignation of a school board official who had moved out of the area. Discussion ensued about the fact that with this board member's resignation, another seat had opened up, meaning three seats were up for grabs on a seven seat board for the May election.

The resigning board member was the token female, the only female ever elected to the local school board. I consider her a friend, although mostly by association. Actually our kids are friends. I do know she is the smartest person on the board, by miles. Why she stuck it out the seven years she did is beyond me, but I guarantee you she didn't cry when she resigned.

Anyway, this particular elected official said, "With XX gone, we could use another lady on the board." "You could use three, maybe five," I proclaimed quickly. My friends all laughed. He suddenly looked scared. He even went white, as if the thought had never crossed his mind. Oh my gosh! What if there were three women on the board? Could that happen? What would that be like? Oh my gosh! We're not ready for that "down here."

I honestly think this guy thought he was being really hip and open-minded by suggesting in a room full of women that we might want to replace "the gal" on the board with "another gal." What a progressive southern gentleman! Even though he surely didn't REALLY mean it.

Now I would never run for office because I have a personal fear of spontaneous combustion and truly believe the insanity of bureaucracy would ignite me and I'd be gone. I love education, but I hate ignorance. Here -- and in far too many government schools -- the two go hand in hand.

I am on a mission though. I need to find and encourage a couple big minds to throw their hats in for a seat on our little school board. I don't have any problems with the incumbents, but there is an open seat and we need some smart people who have been more than an hour's drive away from here to offer fresh perspective. We need people who will attack our problems with clinical precision. Traditions be damned. We need someone who won't soft-pedal or "yes man." We need progressive minds that think globally and act locally. No softies. No more mamby pamby, stuck in the 50s good old boys.

I don't care what gender these minds are. I do think it could be good though if they'd spent just a little time up north.

Saving the Earth

2008-01-23T11:27:00.000-06:00

Today is a red letter day in my book, because yesterday I got my new driver's license. Now that I am officially a Kaufman County resident, I can use the county's recycling center. I cannot tell you how excited I am.

Before I moved to Texas, recycling was sort of my hobby. My garage in Boulder was full of bins of different sizes and shapes. Every day I sorted junk mail, newspapers, milk cartons, cardboard boxes, cans and glass into the various bins, and every Saturday the whole family went to Eco-Cycle to further sort our trash for recycling. It was a family event.

The boys remember how much they enjoyed taking the bins of different types to the correct dumpsters. They remember how they used to throw the beer bottles into the glass bin, and how it was okay if they broke. That was fun.

I doubt I'll get the kids too excited about going with me to the local recycling center, although from what I can see from the road, it looks about the same as the one in Boulder.

But I will go. I can't wait to take the 24 plus soda cans and the four or five gallon jugs and the occasional wine bottle or beer cans to recycling. It took me a long time to get used to throwing those things away, but where we used to live here at the lake, we didn't have any other option.

Now we are back to saving the earth. It's a good feeling. This weekend I'll get my bins all organized and begin the process. Re-training the kids to save rather than discard their trash will take a little time, but not much. I know they appreciate the point.

After all, as Jerry Garcia once sang, "We don't own this world like we act as if we did, it belongs to the children of our children's kids."

It's good to keep that in mind. I'm so glad I can get back to doing the right thing.

My new alarm clock

2008-01-14T14:14:00.000-06:00

A few months ago I was doing my typical Monday morning thing, which is avoiding work. Now before potential clients get turned off, let me explain that a few years ago when I started working for myself I decided that the purpose of being self-employed was to eliminate the down side of work. Since most employed individuals will agree that Monday mornings are a big hairy drag, I hope you'll respect my decision to eliminate them from my work week. I've replaced them with Monday evenings, which used to be laundry night. I didn't like laundry night either, so instead of doing laundry on Monday nights, I work. If you need to know when I get my laundry done, I'll tell you when I figure that one out... Anyway...

While sitting at the coffee shop on a Monday morning enjoying conversation, a woman got up and announced she had to go. "I'm doing the substitute teacher training," she said. "Oh, I've always wanted to do that," I said, which was only a half truth. It is true that I had thought about getting myself on the substitute list, but I had usually replaced that thought with a reality check reminding me that I make pretty good money as a writer and would have trouble dealing with clients if I was locked up in a school all day. Anyway, I'd never actually put "Become a substitute teacher" on my to do list, but on this particular Monday I decided, "Why not?"

"Come along," my new friend said. It's just over at the school administration building (two minutes away) and it takes just an hour or so." "Sure," I had replied, and off we went, lattes in hand.

So I went to substitute teacher training, got trained, and even followed up by delivering a copy of my graduate school transcripts, social security card, and driver's license proudly to the school office. I received word that I passed my background check and was an official substitute. I used my training to go online and sign up for the automated system that would allow me to pick and choose among the plum assignments at any of the local schools of my choosing, whenever I had a free day or otherwise wanted to help young minds blossom, I could teach. Awesome!

"This is so cool," I thought, imagining the thrill on my 13-year-old's face when he saw Mommy subbing in his math class. I couldn't wait for the first call, the first assignment, the first rush of exhilaration I'd get from actually teaching young minds something new. I was going to make a difference, not just write some ad drivel.

My bubble began to burst immediately upon announcing my new status to my kids. "Just don't come to my school" my 7th grader said. "Don't you think I'd be a good teacher?" I asked, reminding the boys how I'd taught them how to use computers and make pretty posters for class projects.

"Substitutes don't teach, Mom," my older son informed me. "When we have a sub, we usually either review something or mess around." "Well, you won't mess around when I'm your sub," I informed the sophomore sternly. "Just don't come to my school, Mom," he warned.

Okay, no problem, I would limit myself to teaching assignments at the elementary level so as to avoid embarrassing encounters with my teens. I also decided to list myself as available to teach in the alternative school. Problem kids have always been a pet project of mine. After all, I was sort of one myself. I figured I'd be the best thing that ever happened to those kids who hate school enough to get kicked out and sentenced to alternative school.

So after a few weeks of never getting a call to sub, I went online to see what was going on. There I discovered that I had not checked the box that said, "Call me!" So I enthusiastically checked "Call me any day," and logged out, hoping that the next day my first assignment would come and I'd begin nurturing young minds.

Promptly at 6:15 the next morning, my phone rang. "One day assignment" the voice said. "Not a good day," I replied, so I opted out. The next day at 6:15, the phone rang again, "Special ed at the middle school," Not my cup of tea. The third day...kindergarten at Lakeview...what do they think I am, crazy? The next day, "one week assignment at the alternative school," I'm a little busy to take that on...and so on, and so on...so that now we're into the second semester and I still haven't taught.

But I have come to rely on the phone to wake me up. It's interesting to note that there are more needs for substitutes on Mondays and Fridays. I wonder why? It's also interesting to note that there were a lot of assignments the day after Halloween (veteran teachers do not want to deal with sugar crashes), and no assignments during test weeks. It has me wondering whether or not these teachers are REALLY sick.

Anyway, the chances of me subbing seem to be getting thinner and thinner. Eventually the machine will probably quit calling me. I also got notice that the state legislature now requires uncertified teachers to get fingerprinted. That's way too big brother for me. I think I'll pass.

So let's just let it suffice that until the system kicks me out, I'm using it as my personal wake up call. It's much more personal than an alarm buzzer and far more effective than the radio. I like to know that I'm at least wanted in our nation's public schools, although it is a little scary that with absolutely no experience and an hour of training I am qualified.

Today's Post

2008-01-10T09:10:00.000-06:00

I felt the urge to post something today, but I wasn't exactly sure what it should be. The weather has been so nice that I'm not feeling any angst, and my best writing is typically when I'm a little upset about something.

But I said a little prayer, and asked God what I should write about today. Here's what came to me:

"Just tell everybody to be happy."

I guess that means enjoy your day! Now back to work!

Democracy Run Amok

2008-01-07T15:21:00.000-06:00

Today my kids went back to school. They got quite a long holiday break. I don't mind having them around. I don't mind having their friends around. In fact, they all come in quite handy when something needs to be lifted or moved or when groceries need to be brought in. At 13 and 15, they pretty much leave me alone unless they are hungry or need cash. Since both those things are frequent, it was definitely time for them to go back to school.

Around 9 a.m. I missed a call from the school. I found the message an hour later. The voicemail said it was the vice principal, and he was calling about my son's hair.

I can't even go into the number of times over my kids' school careers that I've had to deal with the hair issue. At least once a year for about eight years, per kid. It hurts me to count. Haircut Nazis. That's what we parents in town call them.

My son's hair needed to be cut, there was no question about that. It was down over the ears and a little shaggy on the sides, and it was over his brows at the top. But it had a long way to go to get to his collar, and he has nice hair. As one storeowner told me, "He looks like every kid in the ads or on TV." An All American Kid.

But government schools today forced this boy to sit in a room and not in his classrooms because his hair was too long. He did not give a presentation he worked on over the break for his Honors History Class because he was in lock-down, ISS, detention. Something called "pass????" Whatever it is it means he missed four periods before I could get him sprung.

My kids have never been in trouble -- knock proverbial wood. Their school records from a discipline standpoint are flawless. They've made the honor roll more than not. They are good kids. They just like to wear their hair long, which I might add is not long. It's never caused me as a parent a problem. In other parts of the world (outside this little forgotten "paradise"), kids are not wearing their hair like ROTC wannabes. (They also don't tuck their jeans into their boots or say things like 'fixin,' but that's for another post...)

But a rule is a rule, and we knew he needed a haircut and had even planned to get one tonight. We discussed it at breakfast. Then the school intervened. No warning. No, get a haircut tonight. It was, "You can't go to class today. Report to that room, and sit down." Your hair is too long, therefore you don't get a chance to learn. He was lucky he had a book.

Anyway, after leaving a voice message and not feeling satisfied that my kid was in class (on a Pass) I called a second time and got through. I explained to the vice principal, "He needs to be in class. I can't pick him up right now. I am at work and have to make a living." Which is true, and I had deadlines, conference calls, meetings. I did not have time for a haircut on a Monday morning, not to mention most reputable salons are closed that day anyway.

I told the vice principal, "I realize you are doing your job, and I will be happy to take him for a haircut after school. But he does not need to be missing his classes. " With a promise (I found out later he took his sweet time) to get my son back in class, I began quizzing the man about the problems that long hair causes. He assured me it was a lot of problems, so I dwelled deeper. What sort of problems? "A lot of kids don't comply." Oh, and how does that cause problems? "They don't comply." But is it a problem? "It takes a lot of time." So it's a problem for you, "Absolutely." But are these kids causing problems because of their hair. "Yes it takes up a lot of my time."

Anyway, to make a long story short, I need to do something about the fact that the top administrators (at least in my experience at Lakeview -not so much - Mabank Middle -way too much- and Mabank High all are required to spend a "considerable amount of their time" policing and enforcing the haircut policy -- a policy, I might add, that applies only to boys. Girls can have hair more than halfway over their ear and hanging in their eyes if style warrants.

The vice principal couldn't tell me what problem the longer hair caused at school. No disruptions? "No." Is it harder for the kids to learn? "No." Does it consume a lot of your time and energy? "Yes." Could it be your fashion guidelines are outdated? "That's not for me to decide." That's right.

Elected officials -- some who have been on the board for decades -- are deciding that kids like mine who really need to be in class paying attention to bring that B up to an A, sit in a room and don't go to class because their hair is too long. Appointed (self-appointed practically in our case) superintendants dictate the policy, which is more like a pet peeve, and highly educated administrators WASTE their lives and BELITTLE THEIR CAREERS worrying about whose hair is too long.

If it wasn't so absurd, I'd laugh. Instead, I have to realize this has been going on in Mabank for a long time. It makes no sense. And if something this simple is so ridiculous, how are these yes-men and woman policing our millions of dollars on truly important things? You have to wonder. I'll keep you posted. All suggestions are welcome.

Resolved: Get Back to Work

2008-01-02T12:56:00.000-06:00

With the holidays behind us I couldn't wait to get back to work. In fact, just after 6 a.m. this morning I was up and at it. I'm approaching my job with greater zeal this year, and so far, so good.

Yes, my new year's resolution is to crank up my workload and get successful PR and marketing results for even more people. With several new business proposals out and some good solid clients continuing with me from last year, I'm ready to rock and roll.

If you're in the same boat, here are a few ideas that I'm incorporating into my new routine. Hopefully these will be helpful to you, as well.

1. Get up 30 minutes earlier. People who know me know I'm no slouch. I'm usually up by 6 a.m. and in the office with a fresh cup of coffee 30 minutes later. (I work from home, so this is no great feat.) My early start gives me a headstart on making my to-do list, scratching things off my white board, checking for new jobs on e-mail, and filing away the "done" items completed the previous day. In 2008, I'm setting my alarm 30 minutes earlier. That should result in 2.5 hours of additional work each day.

2. Start the day with a prayer. I'm no religious fanatic, but I've learned that my best plans can go completely awry if it's not what God has planned for me that day. So to make sure I'm on the right path, I'm going to start my work day with some reading of "the good book" and a short chat with God. I highly recommend this exercise.

3. No more daily stops at the coffee shop. Readers of my blog and all of my friends know that I love my coffee shop. Normally, it's part of my daily routine. After I drop the kids at school I usually swing into The Hydrangea House for a cup of coffee and the day's gossip. Sometimes this leads to a little pro bono work for other townspeople, but for the most part, it's just some selfish "me time." By cutting back to two days instead of five I figure I'll be back in the office sooner after the school run and should manage to add another couple hours to my work week (and save a few bucks too).

4. Lunch time work-outs. I gave up my pilates class when I moved last fall, and my abs have really missed it. I herby resolve to work out at least three times a week over the lunch hour. To facilitate this effort, I got a new work-out tape and a bicycle for Christmas. After trying my new bike on Sunday, I went back to the store and got a new, soft bike seat. A noon-time work-out should refresh and re-energize me so that the second half of my day can be just as productive as the first. It also should help me lose that extra 20 pounds that have crept up on me the last year or so. Ug.

5. Touch it, deal with it. I once read that we all waste a lot of time shuffling papers. I hereby resolve that if I touch a piece of paper in my office or open an e-mail, I'm going to deal with it -- right then and there. (Even if "dealing with it" means opening a job sheet and putting it in the "to do" pile.

6. Stay on task. When you're as busy as I try to be and "suffer" from a mild case of ADD like I do, it can be difficult to stay on task. I resolve not to get sidetracked by things that are not billable. (Okay, I'll admit this will be the hardest thing for me to do. I've already spent some time today balancing my checkbook, and changing the address on my drivers license and voter registration on line. I've also been writing this post for about 20 minutes...)

If I can follow these simple rules, I figure I can get an extra five hours of work done each week, which could add up to literally thousands of additional dollars this year. It's a good goal, and I'll need help sticking to these rules, but I know I can do it.

You can too. Here's wishing all of us the best, most profitable year ever! Now GET BACK TO WORK!!!

Happy New Year

2007-12-28T13:53:00.000-06:00

It's always nice when you can end the year on a positive note. There have been some years when I couldn't wait to close the door on one year and move to a new one. Thankfully, this isn't one of them. 2007 was pretty good overall. It feels good to be able to say that.

In 2007, we moved, which can be a really good thing. It gives you a chance to purge yourself of "stuff" that you really don't need. It feels good to get rid of clutter and start fresh.

In 2007 I had a chance to visit with just about everyone I'm related to -- in person. That's pretty unusual and it was really, really nice. The occasion was my grandmother's 95th birthday celebration -- a week spent on Lake Maxincuckee in Northern Indiana. I know how very lucky I am to still have my grandmother. So many people my age do not have any grandparents left. It's amazing how smart the elderly are. After all, they have lived far, far longer than the rest of us. If you take the time to listen to them you can learn a whole awful lot.

In 2007 my youngest son became a teenager and for the first time in years I found myself with kids that really truly could take care of themselves. That made my business trips easier and my weekends more enjoyable. I no longer dreaded Friday nights as the start of a long weekend of "taking care of kids." Now I just drive kids, and feed kids, and pay for things. It's easier, and as I get older and my patience wanes, it's nice to have more time to myself. I think that's good for everyone around me.

2007 was a year when gas prices went through the roof and I started thinking more seriously before every trip I took -- whether it was just to town or to some far-flung locale. I don't want to think of the thousands of dollars that went into my gas tank, and it is a little annoying to hear my oil business friends talking of their tremendous profits. (Their new homes, the cars their kids drive, and the vacations they take tell those stories easily enough.)

But other than the gas prices (and the cost of milk and groceries in general), this was a pretty good year. And I'm hopeful that 2008 will be even better. Maybe the economy will continue to improve and gas won't seem so unpalatable.

So here's wishing everyone a fantastic 2008 and one of the best years ever. Happy New Year!

Holiday-isms

2007-12-08T03:26:00.001-06:00

I have two sons, so for most of their lives I've handled any and all shopping requirements (other than when they've had birthday money to spend or some other "special" occasion). So the other day as my oldest (now 15) and I were leaving Wal-Mart after a quick trip for essentials and a couple small presents, I asked him if he wanted to give his dad something I had bought.

"No, Mom. Giving someone something someone else bought is like putting your name on somebody else's homework. You just don't do it." I thought that was a great analogy, and I'm glad to know he's finally growing up.

When he's going shopping and what he'll get his dad instead remains to be seen. But I'm glad I don't have to worry about that. (We'll see...)

Deck the halls...

2007-12-02T11:29:00.000-06:00

I just came from church, and at the risk of alienating someone, I wanted to share something here.

Jesus is the reason for the season.

I probably should end this post right now, but because I’m a writer and this is my blog, I won’t.

Here are a few random thoughts. Feel free to add your own in a reply to this post. I really think Christmas has gotten to the point where it has to be nearly unaffordable for a whole lot of people. We’re bombarded by TV ads showing perfect, beautiful people who are exceedingly joyful in their holiday cashmere sweater. We think we need cashmere or diamonds or SALES to make us happy and to ‘bring in the holiday season.’

You saw them on TV on Black Friday (or sadly a lot of you – us—did do at least some shopping that day). I know from a close relative who does get up at 4 a.m., that to get the things that they feel everyone else has at a price they can afford, they have to get up and go to the store at 4 a.m. I think that’s pretty sad. On a whole lot of levels.

Spending money can make you happy. I’ve been there, done that, have the shoes, purses, dishes, knick knacks and collectibles to prove it. But the spending happy high goes away, and the stuff (unless, of course it’s something really special) never quite delivers what the TV ads promised or what we thought we were getting. It’s all just stuff.

The Circle of Life

2007-11-11T08:18:00.000-06:00

Last Wednesday night I had one of those experiences that somehow changed my life. Or if it didn't change it, it made me look at it and appreciate it in a very different way.

I went to Denver Wed. to meet a client and visit some friends. While there I also drove past the first house I ever owned. That was an interesting experience. The fence was falling down, and everything seemed really, really small. But it had been our first house back in 1986. At the time, I loved it. Today I wanted to get out of that neighborhood before it got dark. Funny how life changes your perspective a bit. Anyway, that's not the point of this post....

I had arranged to spend the night in Denver at the home of my incredibly beautiful and wonderful friend. We had worked together back in the 80s and early 90s, had lost touch a bit during our "young baby and little kid" years, particularly after I moved to Boulder and later Texas. We did the Christmas card thing for a while, but neither of us is great at that. We both tend to slack off on the contact when things are going bad, and between the two of us we've dealt with our share of cancer, death, bad marriages, the ups and downs of self employment, and divorce. But Jill's one of those kind of friends that you pick up with right where you left off. There is no pretense. It's an honest, caring relationship. Anyway, that's also not the story I want to share either.

What was so incredible about this particular visit, and what I felt was another one of those "rights of passage" that I'm having more and more as I get older, was listening to Jill's 14-year old daughter play the guitar and sing. This young girl is a very talented human being. It was so weird to realize that she had been created by my friend. So weird to realize that, back when we were running around together in our 20s we never could have imagined this young lady or the talent that she has. She sang, or really performed, not like a 14-year old kid, but like a famous artist. Her confidence was engaging, and her voice and skillful use of the guitar delivered a soulful performance full of emotion and, dare I say, angst.

Now this daughter of my friend has some reason for angst, I suppose. Her parents have been through a bitter divorce that continues, despite their best efforts, as a contentious ongoing relationship. My friend says her daughter pours her emotion into her guitar. It was obvious. Beautiful and sad all at once.

When marriages end, there are different outcomes for different situations. The sadness about this marriage ending was that it was a relationship full of love. I distinctly remember my friend being absolutely gaga in love with her husband, who was one of the best looking young guys I'd ever seen at the time. The two of them L-O-V-E-D each other. That love evolved into a family with two gorgeous little girls and more than its share of love. We're talking tons of love. Problems, sure. But love, no doubt. That's what makes it all so sad. That marriage carried a lot of hope and patience, relationship counseling and understanding, but then finally efforts were exhausted, there was a relational explosion, followed by implosion and eventually disintegration.
It's all really powerful material for an artist. And Jill's daughter is the benefactor. This young lady has talent and focus and drive and commitment, and she will be a major star. She is a young Jewel, carrying the pain of her experiences. From the outside looking in, you wouldn't expect so much pain in an upper middle class neighborhood and a house on a cul-de-sac. But it's been there, despite everyone's best efforts.

In this case, the pain has been transformed in different ways. For one little girl it's been transformed into musical talent. It seems like a healthy repository.

Last week I realized by looking in on this family that our lives and the decisions we make day to day really do have meaning. Even if what we're doing at a particular moment seems like it won't have an impact somewhere, everything we do impacts something else.

My friend has a beautiful daughter who just might be a famous singer. It's a result of the decisions and actions that her parents have made -- from buying her a guitar to divorcing. Everything has an impact.

I'm not sure if this young lady would sing with such emotion or talent if she hadn't experienced so much in her young life. It makes me realize that the decisions we make on a daily basis make a difference to more than just us. I have kids, and this has me thinking.

We're all participating in the circle of life. Everything we do has a consequence. Making the best of every situation is our obligation.

Who's to say that this young lady wouldn't be singing with the same emotion if her mom and dad were still married and things were "easier." She may have been just as talented and just as dedicated to her guitar. But maybe not.

I'm looking at every decision I make differently now. I'm watching my own kids a little closer now. And I'm appreciating this circle of life for all it's goods and bads. Life is important. Everything we do today impacts the future. That is the circle of life.

Just another day in the office

2007-10-29T09:33:00.000-06:00

I meet a lot of people, and people always say, "Oh, you're a writer, that's interesting. What do you write." When I tell them, or usually when I start to tell them, their eyes tend to gloss over and they quickly lose interest. It's not that my clients aren't interesting, but if you say a writer people expect you to be a more interesting person. I guess.

But I like what I do and I do what I like. Sounds like a Jimmy Buffet song or a Dr. Seuss book, but thankfully, it's my life.

I'm starting to realize that I'm pretty lucky like that. I get to work on things I find interesting and help people improve their business and make money. That's pretty satisfying work. It may not make for interesting cocktail chatter or keep someone from zoning out, but it does keep the lights at my house on and keeps the kids fed. There's a whole lot to be said for that.

Writing isn't very exciting though. If you've ever tried to watch someone write, it's boring. In fact, people (well, my family members and patrons at some of the public wifi spots I visit) are always coming up behind me when I'm writing and they start talking to me, perhaps because they don't see me doing anything. At least I look like I'm not doing anything because I'm staring at the screen, reading, maybe thinking, maybe typing, but not necessarily doing anything active.

These same people have been a little slow to learn that they can come upon me like that and talk to me, even complete entire conversations on their end, and I won't hear a word they've said. Sometimes I don't even know they were there. I usually have a sense that something happened that I missed, but not always. My point is that writing is not a spectator sport, and even if someone looks like they aren't doing anything, if they are a writer, they are working -- sometimes in a faraway place on the right side of their creative brain.

People who come over to my office or who "drop by because they were in the neighborhood" usually find me looking like I'm not working. I guess since a lot of people use their computers and the internet primarily for entertainment, they see me in front of mine and assume I'm on ebay or something.

"What are you doing?" "Writing this release (or story or web page)." "Oh," they say. "I'll just wait." But they never wait quietly. They see I'm not doing anything, or I don't look like I"m doing anything, or I'm just typing something up...so they start talking. I can't work when someone is talking to me, which also explains why (my clients have learned) I don't like to talk on the phone much during the day -- during my productive writing time.

As a writer, I'm never done and never off work. I've got lots of stuff going on all the time -- ideally a dozen clients who are relying on me to help them do something cool with their business. I also have a screenplay and 12 episodes of a sitcom to write, two web businesses I want to create, and I need to do my billing.

I choose not to work sometimes, quite often in fact, but I'm never DONE with my work. Which doesn't mean I don't know when to quit. I know when things aren't going anywhere or when I'm just wasting time, or when I'm avoiding real work I should be doing. Like now. So when I'm rambling, or things aren't gelling, it's time to get off work and do something else -- laundry or exercise or a phone call -- or in the case of me sitting here writing this blog, it's time for me to get to work, make some phone calls, do some billing.

One way or another, I'll crank out some copy today or write a funny scene or name some new product something cool. I'll put out a news release and pitch a story. I'll prepare a report, send some billing, call a client. It's another day in the office. Just a regular day. Cuz I'm a writer, and it's not that exciting. I don't burn a lot of calories doing it. And my hands and eyes get a little sore. But other than that, it's just a regular day in the office doing what I do for people I like. I have no complaints. I'm lucky like that. I hope you are too.

Perfection

2007-10-09T10:40:00.000-05:00

The older I get the less I care about being perfect.

Now that doesn't apply to typos. I still cringe at the thought of typos and bad grammar, so I'm a stickler for that. But otherwise I'm now old enough to readily admit that I make mistakes. I miss the boat. I sometimes really screw up. Not often, but sometimes.

I used to sweat it when I messed up. "Oh, man, I'm a consultant with a lot of experience and I should have known better." But the reality is that in my business there really is no right or wrong "for sure" answer. Every situation deserves individualized evaluation to ensure that the right path is taken. Most times we figure it out. Sometimes we don't.

Most of the time when things go awry it's because we didn't take the time to think everything through early on. It's that think time that, more often than not, makes the difference between a successful and wildly successful campaign.

Dialing in that precious think time can be hard. In my business it involves research (of media, competitive products, industry leaders), conversations, and then just "think time." Sometimes it's easy, like when I pray about it and the answers just come -- divinely. Sometimes it's hard. But when the time is taken, it helps -- a lot.

Now I'm also not perfect in my personal life. I lose my temper, I say things without thinking them through first, I raise my voice and sometimes slam doors. I'm a bit moody and sometimes demanding. My highs are high and my lows are ...scary. Medication would probably be recommended, but I take pride in not using drugs to alter my moods. Meditation instead of medication is my mantra. It works when I use it.

So it's interesting to write this, sort of stream of consciousness and then realize that the two best tactics I've listed here for getting ideas and improving mood involve similar activities -- praying and meditating. Both can provide the same result -- clarity on the path of action we need to take.

Interesting. Something to think about.

Self Promo Phobia, i.e. Help Wanted

2007-09-20T10:01:00.000-05:00

The whole reason a job like mine exists is because people want and need promotion and they don't want to do it themselves.

And that is the subject of this post. I am looking for a publicist to promote my business. What do I do? I'm a publicist. It sounds pretty stupid, but at the same time I think it validates what I do. I recognize that I need a professional -- someone other than myself -- to promote me.

Now please don't get me wrong. I'm not an ego-maniac. I don't crave the spotlight or need attention to feel self worth. It's about business. It's about making sure that people who might want to hire a publicist (because they need self promotion or business promotion or product promotion) feel good about hiring me because I'm noted somewhere somehow as being a good publicist.

A good publicist will make you do things you wouldn't do on your own. They'll force you to go to places you don't want to go and smile like you want to be there and say just the right things, because they'll do their homework and know who's there and know what they want to hear and tell you all the right things to say. A good publicist handles everything so you don't have to. That's what I want.

It only gets weird if you think about it too hard (and I obviously have), in that I want to have this publicist tell somebody somewhere that I'm a really good publicist. It's not that I couldn't do it myself, it's just that I don't find that sort of work all that interesting.

So, if you know of a good publicist (not some hack or wanna be, but someone with real clients and real experience), let me know. I need someone forceful enough to boss me around yet diplomatic enough that I don't realize it. I'm not cheap, but I want value. I expect results -- I'm not sure what kind or why, but I expect them. I need someone who makes me a priority like I make my clients priorities.

That's what I need -- soon! I've been putting this off far too long. Applicants can respond to this blog with their qualifications. Please no more than 50 words, and if you don't know how to blog, this is your chance to learn. No whiners. I'm a stickler for perfection, but by no means am I perfect, that's why I need you. No typos, don't pester me, we'll talk dress code if needed, but just get me results. I'll be relying on you for ink -- lots of it, and interviews with editors and writers. Yes, I'll get a new headshot, and yes I'm willing to travel or spend a little money for some design or conferences or whatever...but just don't try to suck me dry. I know your business and I'll have my eyes peeled.

There. It feels great to be taking this off my plate. Well worth every dime. (And I know you're out there.) Good luck. May the best candidate win!

A Fresh Start

2007-09-06T06:44:00.000-05:00

The best part about the week after Labor Day is that it's like everything is new.

I've always thought of this first week of September as the start of the year. It's when people are ready to get back to work. By now we're a little tired of summer, and we're ready to find people at work instead of on vacation. The kids are back in school, it's time to get busy.

This year I moved over Labor Day weekend, so it's even more of a fresh start for me. I'm in a new office, a new house. I have new drives to school and the store. I'm closer to my clients. It's pretty cool.

Life is full of opportunities to clear the air and start anew. It's a real gift that things do change and we have the chance to move on to new neighborhoods and new friends.

I'm doubly blessed that I have the opportunity to start new relationships with clients and with work. I thank God that I have the opportunity to approach each day with an appreciation for the beauty that it offers. I'm thankful for my family and my clients and our friends.

Most of all I'm really thankful that I'm down to less than 20 boxes that need to be opened and dealt with. I'm thankful that my refrigerator arrives today and that my DSL works. And I'm particularly thankful for my friends and family who worked so hard in 100 degree Texas heat to help us move. In particular thanks to Mark,Elian, Bob and Tanner who offered their muscle. Thanks to Robin and Fred for finding us John and Riley for the heavy lifting -- they were life savers when the rest of us were exhausted.

Anyway, it's a fresh start, and with only 120 days or so until Christmas it's time to work for a while. So let's get busy!

Damned if you do, damned if you don't

2007-07-24T15:32:00.001-05:00

P.T. Barnum once said there is no such thing as bad publicity. After 20 years in the PR business I know that's not the case.

In the 1990s the utility company I worked for needed to trim some trees in Boulder, particularly around an always contentious and incredibly ugly monstrosity known as the Grape Street Line. The Grape Street Line was part of the original infrastructure in Boulder and it was a huge, ugly power line that ran up Grape Street and on up the mountain to service Nederland, Eldora, and other mountain communities. I'm 99% sure it's still there today.

The neighbors on Grape Street hated the line. Every few years they'd organize in an uproar to request the utility company bury it. The cost of burying the Grape Street Line was phenomenal, and the utility had responded on numerous occasions that they'd be happy to bury it if the residents wanted to join together to pay for it. Stale mate.

So here we were after a particularly glorious spring in the Rockies and the forestry crews were preparing to go samurai on the tress that hid the Grape Street Line. Our quandry was whether to just show up with chain saws (the company's usual modus operandi, always causing a stir) or inform the citizens first.

We decided we wanted to be the kindler, gentler power company, so in addition to a carefully crafted letter "from" our forester, we enlisted his help and his movie star good looks to educate the community (a very tree hugging, berk wearing activist community) about the environmental benefit of this particular form of cutting. The Shigone method, or something like that, which leaves the tree with a giant hole (shaped like a "V") in the middle. It's bizarre, ugly, and supposedly the healthiest thing for trees that live around power lines.

Anyway, the plan sounded good, I personally handled Forest Boy's media training, and booked him on TV shows and with the editorial board at the Daily Camera. With the Dear Resident letters off in the mail and a fresh shirt for the himbo (who in all fairness really knew his stuff when it came to trees), we set off to Boulder, feeling good about what we were about to do -- for the good of the trees in Boulder.

Our campaign was wildly successful from a shear "impressions" standpoint. We made the front page not only in Boulder, but as the story grew we made both dailies in Denver. Then it went national -- Today Show, USA Today -- and foresters nationwide debated with activists in San Francisco and Bend and Vermont on CNN. Thankfully the internet did not yet exist.

But I've blocked out most of the rest of the details at this point, except for the team wide face-to-face with the CEO, who demanded to know whose idea it had been to be proactive about the whole tree cutting thing. I took the blame and learned a valuable lesson which was "never take the blame."

No matter what happened the results were the same. The company got its trees trimmed and the local paper got photos of college kids chained to the trees while bucket trucks loomed in. It was awful, horrible, but it was wildly received "publicity," talked about in every coffee shop in town. People knew about it, and they knew who was behind it. The company's name was on every tongue. There were opinions on it on talk radio and letters to the editor for nearly a week.

It was all packaged up neatly with a bow -- the biggest story ever until the Douglas County sheriff shot somebody's dog because the meter reader couldn't get in the back yard.

In hindsight, it was pretty dumb. Today I would insist on a different path. But I was pretty young back then, and we liked the idea of being open and forthright so much better than the idea of just showing up with chainsaws.

But every year since, residents along Grape Street (and Elm, and Walnut, and, and, and...) are awakened by the sound of chainsaws. No warning. No education. Just Cut and Run. It's the only way to do it. Quick and painless. No newspapers, no TV crews, no neighborhood uproar. No publicity.

Sometimes you can wag the dog, and other times the dog wags you. P.T. Barnum was wrong. There is such a thing as bad publicity.

The girlfriend

2007-07-19T08:38:00.000-05:00

Last night a bubbly, giggly, pretty teenage girl was in our house. She was also in our pool, with our son, in the dark, alone. Since it was the first time we'd had a visitor of that nature, it was a bit of a milestone, a right of passage, and a little bit of an "oh no" moment.

I always knew the girls would come. I guess that time has come. And I'm okay with it. From my perspective, at the age of 15, you should be interested in girls. By the time I was 15 I'd probably had half a dozen boyfriends -- some 17 and even 18. I know what I was doing. I like that my son is willing to bring a girl here.

My husband, on the other hand, was a bit more concerned. "They're getting a little huggy huggy out there," he had warned me from his recon post near the kitchen window. "You'd better get out there," he had said, pacing nervously in front of my view of the TV.

But I was horizontal on the couch and couldn't come up with a reason why I needed to move at that moment. I've talked to my son. He's talked to me. He told me about a senior football player at his school whose girlfriend got pregnant and so he wasn't going to college on the scholarship he'd received. "It can ruin your life," he had said. "It will at least change it," I had replied.

We've talked about what boys are feeling and how girls can be, and how it's best to wait for the girl that he really really likes and to date a girl for quite a while before deciding anything about getting really close. I've also more blatantly told him I don't want to be raising grandchildren. We've had our talks.

So as my husband paced nervously next to me and I patted myself silently on the back for my open communication style, the girl came in the house. Her high pitched, peppy entrance made sure we all knew she was there. "Which switch is the light?" she had asked at the door of the bathroom. "I don't know," I had said from my couch, "Try one." "Thanks!" she had said in a cheery squeak, as if my advice on how to solve the dilemma had improved her night, perhaps even her life -- forever!

As I heard the door slide closed, I looked at Mark who had somehow fallen into his chair, perhaps stunned, and laughed. Then I jumped up and walked (okay, I ran -- really fast)through the house to the back door, opened it,and found my son flexing in the pool.

"Hey, what's up?" I had said. "Nothin'" he had said backinng out of the light. "You be careful out here," I said sternly. "I will," he said, then "I'm not..." he said. "I know," I said.

About that time our visitor, who I noticed as she stepped into the moonlight had an ever-so-tiny nose ring, bopped out the door. "Are you coming swimming with us?" she had asked with a huge smile, as if it would make her truly happy if I would. For a split second I considered, then reconsidered. Looking at my son, I said, "Not right now, maybe later." Then I turned, did a quick scan for visible tatoos, seeing none, smiled and said, "When it's time, we'll drive you home," and I walked back in the house.

I knew it was just a matter of time before the girls showed up. That's why I talk to my sons. This one may be the first to be alone in the dark in my pool with my son, but she certainly won't be the last. And I have another son who loves girls, and soon they'll be coming to my house to see him too. I'm okay with all that. But tonight when you lay down to sleep, please, say a prayer for me. I'm the mother of two teenage boys.

Vacation time

2007-07-11T08:27:00.000-05:00

It's the time of year when everyone is going on vacation. Elian is in Holland, she's on her second week there. Ana just got back from Toronto and she's going to Vegas Friday. Jeanette and Randy are planning their August cruise in Alaska, which her BOSS gave them, I might add. I need to get on the stick, or we'll be going no where.

It's always hard to fit in a vacation, even when you're self employed. Most of my clients took the whole week of the fourth off. It rained, so I worked. My husband and I did go to Houston for a wedding last weekend. It was the first time we'd been away together in a couple years. It was enough like a vacation -- great hotel, room service, shopping, a fabuolous wedding party, Sunday brunch with bottomless Bloody Marys...it will get me through for a few more weeks.

But my kids are another story. Some might argue that every day at our house is a vacation. There's the pool, an infinite number of video systems and games, four televisions, kids to play with. The lake. But after six weeks of that the kids are getting bored and they're starting to ask about going on a vacation.

But with our vacations so much depends on work and sports schedules that it's hard to fit anything of any length at all in. That leaves us with trying to schedule shorter trips that usually end up costing twice as much, and since there's no real downtime, you come home more tired than when you left. I've suggested a weekend in Dallas, maybe a trip to Six Flags or Hurricane Harbor, but my son said, "That's not a vacation, that's a field trip." I suppose that's true. The way I look at it, it's at least a day off.

Now we've been to a couple Rangers day games and we went to the mall once. None of that counts, I guess. While we were in Houston my sister came to stay. She took the boys to Chilis for lunch and then bowling. They went to the music store and Blockbuster. "That was sort of a vacation," I told them. They agreed that it was fun, but vacation it was not. "We didn't leave town," Dill said.

So in addition to the umpteen things I have on my to do list, I now have to plan a vacation. I've been saying that for a few weeks. But now that we're nearly mid-July, I need to get going on it.

A couple weeks ago when my son asked, "Where are we going on vacation this year?" I suggested he take care of it. "Let's go to the X Games in LA," I said. "Get on and find out what events you want to see and find some flights. We can stay where we stayed last year. Best Western Hollywood. August 2 -5. Thanks!"

"Huh?" I heard him say as I flew out the door.

Needless to say he didn't get that vacation planned. If we're going to go, I need to do that.

We are also going to my grandmother's 95th birthday party in Indiana the second weekend of August. I've been stalling on planning that until I figure out what I'm going to be working on and how much time I'm going to have. If we have time, I'd like to take a week and drive -- leave right after we get back from LA. I've even toyed with the idea of swinging through Iowa. The boys and I like road trips. But I think hockey is going to get in the way for one kid. That means we need to fly and plans need to be made, money spent, etc. It gets so complicated and expensive!

It's a wonder anyone goes anywhere at all.

So until I can get going on it I'll just revel in my friends' stories about their trips. I'll keep plugging away on my to do list and hopefully sooner rather than later the item that says 'plan vacation' will rise to the top.

At least I hope it does before I miss mine.

Play Ball

2007-06-30T06:29:00.001-05:00

Before I had kids I would spend a Friday night doing things I thought were really fun. We'd go to the 16th Street Mall in Denver and have oysters at the Paramount. We'd barbeque with friends or go to concerts. It was, seriously, a really good time in my life.

Now that I have kids, when I'm not working what I do usually revolves around the kids. Everyone with kids can relate.

I think my kids have been really fortunate to grow up with the same kids since they were little. New ones move in -- great new ones, in fact, but a lot of people we know now have been here the whole time we've been here. We've known some of these kids through 8 seasons of baseball. And I'm getting to know their parents.

It sounds weird to think about it, but it is true that I am just getting to know some of the people that have been here and in and around my existence for eight years. We don't spend lots of time together or even in the same proximity. We're not what you would call "friends." But two hours at a time 15 times a year, we are united as a baseball family. Now we haven't always had kids on the same teams, but the same people have been in the league and we've watched each others' kids. Over eight years, that becomes ...a lot of time.

On any given Friday night (or Tuesday or Thursday), and during that two hours I might actually talk for a few seconds, maybe a minute to most people. But now that I've been around these people awhile, we talk for longer. Four, ten, 15 minutes. I chatted with one trio of moms throughout a 2 inning blow-out last weekend. Particularly brutal - beat by 12 in two innings, game over. Our kids got creamed.

Last night was a different story. We won by a lot and so we have a game again at noon today. I had to get up early to launder the uniform and coach's shirt so my guys are ready. I realized too that I should go get drinks and ice for the kids for the game. And coffee for the base coach and his wife, cuz we're out.

All this got me thinking about the kids...they are all my kids. I've known some of these kids "baseball-wise" for eight years. And since it is a small town, the kids also go to school together, play in the same band, played soccer with each other, are in the same science fairs...the moms and dads are all at the same activities we are, and its been that way for years. We really sort of know everybody. I kind of like that. There is strength in numbers.

As parents, we feel the pressure when our kids get up to bat. We can share in their glory when they hit the ball. It is somehow my fault when they strike out, or drop a fly ball, or get caught spacing out at first. But after all these years, I feel that way for 13 different kids. I think the other parents do too. Watching all this can be very painful as a parent. Or exhilarating. Or both!

We all live and breathe by the kids' glories and defeats. At least for 15 or 20 evenings and 2 to 2-1/2 hours each time, which is a lot of time. For that time, we are united together as a family. A baseball family. One for all and all for one. It's far more painful because we feel for each other's kids strike-outs or errors, but it's even more glorious when any one of them drives some runners home. Win or lose there's lots of love and respect and comraderie and good will going round. It's a pretty cool thing.

The Smells of Summer

2007-06-25T06:32:00.001-05:00

This weekend I officially began the war (or at least a major frontal assault) on an evil force that has taken a stronghold in my home. It is one I've been aware of for some time. It has appeared in various forms through the years, and periodically I have taken major offensives toward it. But this time it's no holds barred. I am ready to fight.

I am at war with stink.

Now stink is a word with a lot of definitions, and its usage has become quite diverse. So in the interest of clarity, let's make sure we're clear what this war is about.

"Stink" can be used to describe things we don't like, as in "I can't have a second Dove bar, that stinks." Stink can be used effectively, albeit a bit awkwardly and redundantly, in a sentence like, "They are filthy rich and literally stink with money."

In my case, in my life, the stink I am waging war agaist is the dictionary definition as in "stink (stingk): 1. To emit a strong foul odor."

"Strong" and "foul" are two words that add up to "enemy" in my book. And in the case of my enemy, it is persistent, and fairly aggressive, particularly when it's got hot, humid weather on its side.

So as June 21 marked the start of summer and the longest day of the year came and went, I decided it was time to attack, or at least get serious about this battle I need to wage. The worst part is that I'm fighting this alone. The enemy has allies. And they deny their alliance. They also are prone to taunting and mimic. They wage psychological warfare, telling me "it's all in your head," and "your nose is way too sensitive."

But I know it's not me. There is stink among us. I've tried to hide it. I've covered it up. I've used "Powder Fresh" sprays that smell like old people, and even specially formulated sprays for killing bacteria and odor. But it seems the more I try to cover it up, the more it stinks.

A major warlord for the opposition took up residence in "my space" a year ago. I'm not talking about the internet "my space." This is the real world. MY SPACE, which is a 30 foot long, 15 fooot wide breezeway/sunroom where my laundry room and office reside. (Now any work at home person with a family understands the ingenuity of the office/laundry combo...and you can obviously understand my desire to protect it.)

The enemy moved in over a year ago. I didn't give it much thought. But through the months it has become ever-present and based on epirical evidence, it's not going anywhere.

So this weekend on a 90 degree day when the air conditioner in the breezeway had been off all day, with the enemy lounging comfortably on the floor, I walked in and was nearly knocked back with a direct attack. Unable to even scream because of the air quality, I called an immediate summit.

My demands were clear, and to my surprise, the "evil" alliance agreed to my demands quickly and without complaint.

I've reclaimed my space. The first steps are done. The enemy is lying empty a few yards away and I can't smell it. It's contents -- all six jerseys and six sweater socks and under armor and under garments, all clean and fresh, folded and fluffed on the laundry table. The equipment -- padded shorts, shoulder pads, elbow pads, knee pads, gloves and skates are lying somewhat dejected in a pile. They are prisoners of war, in need of some rehab before I'll release them and call this battle done.

Yes, this weekend I started and won a battle against stink. I'm not naive enough to think the war is over or that we'll always have peace. That equipment will go back in that bag, as will the folded fluffy jerseys and socks. The bag will go to the rink and the kid will wear the contents, and when he's done he will put it all back in the bag to comingle and consort, and the battle will begin again. Yes, I know, this enemy is not going away. It will be back. Soon.

But at least for a few days -- maybe even a few weeks here between camps and practices and seasons, I'm taking back My Space. For a few short days, I'm going to enjoy the smells of summer. A little. I still have to figure out how to get the smell out of my car...

Remembering Dad

2007-06-20T18:27:00.001-05:00

Father's Day came and went again this year with that hurtful stab I have felt every year for the last eight years since my dad passed away. Even after all that time, just thinking about my dad, even just writing these words, brings tears to my eyes.

I was one of those lucky kids who had a fairly idylic childhood. My parents were married for 40 years and seemed to get along just fine. We lived in a nice house in a nice town. We kids played sports and were cheerleaders, and Dad never missed a game or event. It was a great time in my life.

As a kid I was definitely a Daddy's Girl. I remember crawling up in his lap to snuggle whenever he played "Ramblin' Rose" by Nat King Cole. That was "our song." I also remember when he brought home a kitten when I was five. It had been born at the factory he managed, and he brought it home under his suit jacket. I remember him bending down in the living room trying to get it to come out of his coat. We squealed and giggled in delight, and we loved that kitten for the next 17 years. I think Scamper finally died about the time I graduated from college. Dad was the one who told me -- long distance on the phone. I think we even cried together over it.

My dad was really good looking. He had jet black hair and soft blue eyes. He was tall and handsome with a deep voice. He was serious in his younger years while he was building his career and raising kids. I remember my friends, particularly boy friends, being afraid of him. I'd always tell them, "He's really nice," and he was, but he could definitely be intimidating.

When I was in junior high and started to date, I gave my dad a lot of heartburn. I remember one boy I met at the community swimming pool one afternoon who was brave enough to come to my house and ring the bell that night. He brought a friend, but when my dad answered the door and asked them gruffly what they wanted, they both ran away. They came back, eventually, but they were not the last boys to be scared of my dad.

In high school I started hanging around with a pretty wild crowd. It was, after all, the 1970s, before Nancy Reagan's "Just Say No," and we were living in Iowa where there wasn't much to do but hang out with friends and party a little. My dad and mom always gave us pretty strict curfews, and since I was younger than most of my friends and was just about the last one to get my driver's license, I often couldn't get home on time. I got grounded a lot, but I usually was able to sweet talk my way out of it when the next "outing" came along. In hindsight, my dad was strict, but soft at the same time.

I remember learning not to talk to my dad when he was balancing the checkbook, but I also learned that if I asked for $10, he'd give me $15. He was generous that way. I always had new outfits for the school dances from the best stores, and we played golf as a family at the country club on Sunday afternoons. Dad didn't like that I flirted with the grounds keepers at the Club. I think he would have preferred if I dated the members, not the lawn crew. But, you know how teenagers can be.

When the time came for me to go away to college, my parent's fairly insisted that I join a sorority. Dad had been a fraternity man at Purdue and all his sisters and sister-in-laws had been in sororities. I obliged and became a Zeta. I have many fond memories of Dad coming to Mizzou for Father's Weekends and going to football games with me. I even remember him playing quarters with my friends and I. By then he had softened a lot, and he liked to tease my friends. I remember one time during my senior year of college when Dad came up to visit during a football weekend. We went out and partied pretty hard at the Deja Vu Disco with my friends. My girlfriends were telling me, "Your dad is really handsome." I remember being a little creeped out by that, but also very proud.

After I graduated from college I moved to Colorado -- 1000 miles away from my parents. I'd see Mom and Dad a couple times a year. We'd visit them in Texas and take houseboat vacations with the whole family at Lake Powell in Utah. When I gave birth to their first grandchild, Mom and Dad were there within a week. Dad always had a warm place in his heart for that first grandson, but he made room for the rest of the grandkids that followed shortly on his heels.

By the time my dad was diagnosed with cancer, he had seven grandkids and he was called both Grandpa by mine and "Daddy Bob" by others. When we'd all gather at the lake it was quite a brood, and I remember Dad working up the energy even when he didn't feel well to play with all the kids.

During the 18 months of his illness I managed to spend a lot of time with him. I'd fly to Texas as often as I could, and we spent a wonderful week together in Taos learning how to paint. My dad and I watched my beloved Broncos win their first superbowl together, and although he was very weak by then, I remember the tear he got in his eye when John Elway won the MVP. A couple weeks later, he passed away, and every day since then I've missed him dearly.

For those who read this who still are blessed enough to have their dads, I hope you know how very lucky you are. I've learned over the last eight years that no one -- not your husband, not your kids, not your mom -- no one can love you like your dad. And on the flip side, there's no one a little girl loves more than her daddy. That relationship can never be replaced.

Moving On

2007-06-12T20:54:00.000-05:00

Perhaps the biggest regret I have working as a consultant is it often means saying goodbye to people I like before I'm really ready.

The nature of my work is that I accept projects, work on short-term contracts, and always work with budgets that eventually -- sometimes sooner rather than later -- come to an end. What that means is that oftentimes, just as I start to enjoy working on a particular project or with a particular person, it's time to move along.

The good news is that I am fortunate enough to have a guardian angel that watches over me. I know this is the case because nearly every time I begin the final phase of a project or a relationship -- sometimes even before I know that is the case, something new and thankfully even more exciting, more interesting, or more aligned with my particular skill set comes along.

It happened again last week. A contract looked to be coming to an end, or at least not growing as I'd hoped. Sometimes I can't wait to see clients go away. And sometimes, like this time, it was work I really enjoyed for a client I really like.

But my guardian angel was watching out for me. He/she always seems to come through. Before I even had a chance to worry about what would fill the hole in my schedule next month, or to languish too much in that "nobody loves me" place, I got a call from a new company that needed my help. At the risk of jinxing my good fortune, I really have to marvel at how this works. And the fact is, it always has.

As an adult who lived through adolescence without the "benefit" of medication, I will freely admit that if I were growing up today, I would probably be diagnosed as having ADD. The fact that people come and go in my work life, and that my projects change daily, and that I have a variety of different types of things to work on, are all really good things for me.

Now I will admit that in a way, the uncertainty of my career is a bit unsettling. In fact, the constant change or worry would be enough to drive some people insane -- or at least push them toward a more stable career. But for me, what I do and how it all works is a huge blessing in my life. I know I get bored easily, and sometimes the people I like the best this week annoy the heck out of me next. It's really good that as one door closes, even if not all the way, another --or two or three-- always opens up. I know it's my guardian angel, the answer to my daily prayers, and a true gift from God.

My husband has always said that he worries twice as much about everything because I don't worry at all. It's not true. I have a regular worry schedule that wakes me up often around 3 a.m. But, in my business, even when you do your best, the job ends. That's sort of the goal. And even though the timing isn't always on my schedule and sometimes it hurts or I feel for a moment unwanted or unloved or unappreciated, I know that doing something new and moving on is for the best for someone. And it's not about me.

So once again, for the umpteenth time this year, and the bajillionth time in my career, I'm preparing to move on to new things -- exciting new projects, interesting new clients, and thanks to my guardian angel, some as yet unseen adventures that someday sooner or later I'll be really sad to let go.

Aging Gracefully

2007-06-07T06:54:00.000-05:00

We live in a world where a whole lot of attention is focused on how we look. That never bothered me much when I was young. Probably because I looked okay. But now that I'm officially mid 40s, and my friends are mid 40s (and older!), looking good is starting to require work. Lots of work.

It starts as soon as I get to work, which for me is pretty early, so it's an early reminder of my daily aging process. First reminder: I can't read anything without glasses. My eyesight went downhill about the time I turned 40. Sometime between then and now it fell off the hill into a deep, dark well. Now I'm having to face the fact that a more permanent solution might be a good idea. Maybe Lasik. But I hate doctors, I don't do elective surgery like most people seem to do. But I probably have at least a dozen pair of "readers," and I can never find a pair when I need them.

As we get older, our conversations with our friends shift too. We still talk about kids, but now some of my friends have kids who are graduating college or getting married. That is making all of us feel old. And of course if your friends are getting old, your conversations with them change. We talk about the health issues of our parents. We talk about losing weight and working out.

I live in Texas -- where you can't spit without hitting a plastic surgeon, and it seems like my friends are all getting "work" done. Botox. Face Lifts. Eye Lifts. Permanent Make-up. I knew about college funds, but I had no idea I'd get to this age and have to worry about coming up with thousands of dollars for these types of things. At least, that is, if I want to "keep up."

The one I'm most intrigued with now is the permanent make-up. It's pretty interesting. And considering I've never been very good with make-up, it seems like a good idea. I know it's not new, but they weren't doing it in my universe until last month. It's wild. Two of my closest friends have the permanent eyeliner top and bottom. It's really cool. I never thought aboout the fact that it's a tatoo. Who would have thought you'd ever come to a point where you could get your eyelids tatooed at a nail salon in a small town in Texas. I'm amazed.

But I've decided that for now at least I'm going to just try to age naturally and gracefully. My best friend is there with me too. She's very au naturale, and we'll get through this aging thing together.

My uncle, who is probably the coolest person in the world -- a product of the 1960s and my dad's youngest brother, is turning 60 this year. He writes books and reads philosophy and consults with government and industry. He's really, really smart. This week he sent me a one line e-mail. It simply said, "Every step we take is toward perfection."

"Every step I take is toward pefection."

Wow. What a great way to think about life, and for me it fits with all this thinking about aging. I'm going to do what I can to age gracefully. I'm trying to exercise more and eat less. I'm on my way to being perfect, and although it's still going to be a lot of work, being perfect is not going to be based on how I look.

The Value of Air

2007-06-05T09:09:00.000-05:00

A good friend of mine from Boulder called last night, and she mentioned at one point in the conversation that Texas had been in the news a lot in a "bad way." "Something to do with really bad air quality and environmental performance," she said.

It was refreshing talking to Carol and having the topic of environmentalism come up in conversation. It's a subject I'm passionate about. But it is easy to ignore it living here in Texas. After all, this is the land that brother oil built.

I live and work out in the country an hour from the city partly because, since moving to Texas, I've developed both allergies and asthma. When you can't breathe, it's a problem. A few years ago I worked at an ad agency three days a week in the heart of Dallas -- trendy uptown, right on McKinney. The cable car went by all day long full of mostly tourists going to the Hard Rock. Anyway, once in a while, we would walk to lunch somewhere more than a few blocks away. On 100 degree days, that usually triggered an afternoon asthma attack.

My doctor told me that going back and forth between the smog-filled air of Dallas and the intense forests and lushness of east Texas was troubling my lungs, which, she said, had become a tighter mesh from living at altitude for more than 15 years. Basically in east Texas you have three seasons, she had said, "Fall, Winter, and Allergy Season." Couple that with Dallas' putrid air quality, and you have a recipe for disaster.

So for the last several years I have mostly avoided Dallas on high pollution days, working from home more. At really bad allergy times, like the last four days for me, I either try to travel out of town (Vegas is always a good escape from blooming things) or stay pretty doped up on over-the-counter allergy meds. This means I'm only able to work in brief spurts of clarity, and I have to surrounder to the couch (on Sunday I did for the entire day).

More than once this week my kids has asked, "Mom, are you going to be okay?" "I'm fine," I tell them in my whispy, nasally voice, even though I do not feel fine. I'm on medication, and I feel like I'm walking around in a fuzzy bubble.

Yesterday I had been walking all over the Fort Worth Club trying to find an elevator that would take me to my car, and just as I found my car my phone rang. "Hello," I had answered. "Are you okay? You're breathing heavy!" My friend said, alarmed. "I'm fine," I had wheezed.

But I'm not fine. A few weeks out of the year I suffer a lot with breathing troubles. It really puts my focus on air quality. What if everyone in the world had the trouble I have, not just a few weeks a year, but all the time? Could it get that bad? Are we heading in that direction?

I have to listen to what my friend said about "bad news on the environmental front" in Texas. Our air quality everywhere is really important, because air doesn't stop at state boundaries. If we're screwing up our air here in Texas, we're screwing up the air in Oklahoma and Arkansas, and New Mexico, and Mexico...we're screwing it up for everyone. It doesn't matter if Coloradans do what they can do if we're going to send our stinky Texas air up toward the Rockies. If I lived in Colorado, I'd be pissed.

On an individual front, we have to do what we can do. This summer I'm not going to drive un-necessarily. My next car will be a hybrid. And I'm going to raise my kids to respect the environment and conserve. I know there's lots more that I can do and I'm going to give this a lot more thought... I hope that you will too.