The Power of Children can Amaze…

Sunday with Mackenzie was a good day. After some dinner at Nana’s and shooting a few hoops with her “Cinderella” ball, it was off to the ice cream place. She worked her kiddie cone chocolate chip cookie dough like a squirrel enjoying their first acorn of the season. She carefully prevented any drippage as she systematically chipped away at the sugar cone with her little teeth. Not “baby teeth,” mind you, she’s a “big girl.” She and Auntie Megan engaged in some girl talk as they devoured their screams on the sun drenched picnic table. Meanwhile, Kyle sat silently attempting to extract all ice cream from his cone with his tongue. I think there may have been a Gene Simmons comment, but he ignored it and dutifully kept at his task.

Earlier at dinner, there was a brief exchange between Kenzie and her Uncle Kyle. I mentioned something about Jessica playing softball when she was young. Even though her mom’s not around, Mackenzie still likes to hear about her. Kyle is pretty upset with his sister and said, “I can’t stand Jessica.” Now if Jessica were to have walked in the house at that moment, Kyle would have been quickly loving her, but as it is, he struggles with his emotions on the whole thing. I said something like “you don’t mean that… that’s your sister.” He responded with a “not anymore!” Everyone was quiet for a few seconds, but then carried on with passing food and pouring drinks. Well, all except the little one. She looked up at her uncle with her big brown eyes and said softly and very matter of factly, “She didn’t do anything to you.” No one heard it but me and Kyle didn’t react. With all she’s been through, this child of four is still fighting for her mom. I’m going to send this little story to my daughter Jessica. Maybe it will help her to fight on for just a minute or an hour or a day so that Mackenzie’s efforts will not be in vain.

Out of the Rain

I am looking forward. A few years back I was browsing an art book when I turned the page to this image.



I liked it and noted the caption identified its home as the Art Institute of Chicago. The painting is Paris Street; Rainy Day by Gustave Caillebotte.

Next week, on Friday, June 9, after customer presentations in Milwaukee and Chicago, I’ll take a vacation day to see this expression of imagination and many others including:

René Magritte - Time Transfixed
Georges Seurat - A Sunday on La Grande Jatte
Édouard Manet - The Races at Longchamp
Edward Hopper – Nighthawks
Salvador Dalí - Inventions of the Monsters
Lyonel Feininger - Village Street
Marc Chagall - America Windows

Random Ranting on Memorial Day Sunday

ABC’s Brent Musburger made some idiotic comments today before the Indy 500. He said we shouldn’t forget we’re at war so that we can all enjoy events like the Indianapolis 500… Yeah Brent, we’re in Iraq so they can fuel the damn cars…

While most Americans celebrate the holiday by going to parades, holding cookouts and drinking excessively in the late spring heat, some poor FBI agents are digging for Jimmy Hoffa at a farm in Michigan. I hope someone brings them dogs and beers…

I miss the NBA and NHL playoffs. I know they’re ongoing, but without the C’s and the B’s in them, it’s just not the same. I long for those Memorial Day weekend triple headers of C’s, B’s and Sox playing on the same day. I wonder when that will happen again. Oh, and Dwyane Wade is the real deal.

We’re almost 1/3 through the marathon that is the Major League Baseball season and I don’t know what we’ve got with the Red Sox. The pitching has been solid as expected, and the defense better, but the lineup does struggle on occasion to score runs. So far, the biggest surprise has been Mike Lowell (.326, 22 doubles and 29 rbi) and the biggest disappointment Jason Varitek (.232 and only 3 more homers than Josh Beckett). I love his game, but .232 is lame.

It’s sad because of the guys immense talent, but because Barry Bonds is perceived as he is, all his accomplishments in baseball will be shadowed by an asterisk. Today Mr. Bonds passed George Herman Ruth with number 715*, but he’ll never, ever, be looked upon with the reverence of the Babe.

* hit by like totally a jerk…

Kyle has had a tough “coming of age” long weekend. First, and it was a first for him, a waitress spilled 15 of my 16oz beer on him during dinner. Right in his lap. Based on the look on his face, it wasn’t “the pause that refreshes.” Second, yesterday he tripped on a pair of shoes (not mentioning any names…) left in the living room, and fell against an end table resulting in his first fat lip. It was pretty traumatic for him and even more so for me. He’s fine and I’m recovering.

I kinda like HR chicks. Well, the ones that get it. The ones you can actually joke around with and not end up in, uhhh, HR. Anyway, one I know has kind of a problem with passing out company golf shirts because it’s very “old boys network” behavior. I thought of her when I read about another cool HR chick today.

Finally, why do middle age relationships or anything remotely resembling a relationship have to be so complicated? Could it be:

- the ex?
- the kids?
- the mother?
- the other ex?
- the work thing?
- the one that got away?
- the drinking problem?
- the kids kids?
- the backhair?
- the cellulite?
- the cats?
- the dog?
- me?

Really, I’m just wondering.

Walk On

Last night I met about a dozen work folks for dinner in Boston’s North End. It was a fun night, but once dinner was over I’d really had my fill of fun. We had a couple drinks before and then wine with dinner, so a few people were getting real happy and beginning to lose inhibitions. As we were walking back toward Quincy Market, the group turned left. They were going to stop and drink. I kept going straight…to walk and think.

It was a beautiful night.

This Won’t Help Customer Sat…

First I received an eMail, then a voicemail, then old-fashioned junk mail and finally another eMail. It was unbelievable. My phone company, Vonage, didn’t want me, a loyal customer, to miss out on their great IPO!!! For those of you not hip to the lingo of us movers and shakers on Wall Street, an “IPO” is an initial public offering of stock. That’s when big shots like me get to get into stock on the ground floor and ride it to riches! Yep, this was another opportunity just like that time I was invited to participate in the IPO of MP3.com. Yeah, back then of course, I was a big shot record executive and… well, that’s another story for another time…

As any investor should, I conducted a little “due diligence” on this “too good to be true” offer and quickly surmised it was going to be just that. The financial fundamentals just weren’t there and competition in their VOIP (Voice Over Internet Protocol) market is heating up. Some observers suggested that Vonage was actually having difficulty attracting institutional investors and that the seemingly customer-friendly IPO offer was actually a desperate cash grab from its own customers.

I didn’t invest.

The stock opened Wednesday and the IPO price loyal Vonage customers had to pay was $17/share. It quickly fell and as of yesterday, it sat at $13… I love the service and pay a flat $27.78 a month, but I’m sure glad I didn’t buy their stock. Let’s say I purchased 500 shares. As of this morning I’d be down $2000, or about six years worth of Vonage bills… All because my phone company spammed me into a bad deal.

I, Toast.

Yes, I am toast. An overdone piece dipped into hot tea with milk when it just turns to mush before disintegrating to the bottom of the cup. Anyway, toast can't write so I give you Dave. Um, well, Dave's hair. It seems, according to Dave, that he's got some fabulous "do" according to all the groupies on his myspace site. Now don't get me wrong, Dave's pomp is legendary. It's freakin awesome! Here are some comments left from his fans:

"best hair since '68 era Elvis! keep rockin cat!" "Keep growing those cool lambchops!"

Another dude from a British band wrote ol' Hut234 to say he thought he had the best hair in the UK until he saw Dave's picture he said "you win!" Dave got a big kick out of that...

Dave is proud of his hair and I think he spends quite some time whipping it up into that pompador. I tried to touch it once, but Dave went all diva on me...

Visit Dave at www.myspace.com/raveondave

Who'll Stop the Rain?

I've been very busy lately working on um, work, so I don't have much time to wax poetic. Hey, at least I haven't missed any beautiful weather. It has been raining so much the last time the Red Sox had a homestand they played a total of six innings. Anyway, it does give me the opportunity to re-use this graphic from May of last year...



It's funny, while most people are quite tired of the beverage falling from the sky, my boy Kyle loves it. I recently told him about when I was in college in Tucson, it was just one after another of hot, dry, cloudless days. I'd wish for just one day of weather like this. Enjoy it. Soon enough you'll be hearing "how 'bout this heat?"

On the dry and dusty road
The nights we spend apart alone
I need to get back home to cool cool rain
I can't sleep and I lay and I think
The night is hot and black as ink
Oh God, I need a drink of cool cool rain

Pete Townshend - Love Reign O'er Me

Your Life is Now...

Last night I watched the last episode of “Love Monkey.” Several times during the show, I felt myself beaming with delight. Yeah, there’s the music, the great scenes of NYC and its clubs, but I really think the appeal for me is the bonds of friendship the characters had and their personal integrity. I have friends like that I don't see nearly enough of. In the final scene, all the friends come together for the birth of a baby. As each friend arrives at the hospital to wait and worry, a song silences dialogue. It spoke to me about "the journey."

“Would you teach your children to tell the truth
Would you take the high road if you could choose
Do you believe you're a victim of a great compromise
'Cause I believe you could change your mind and change our lives

CHORUS:
Your life is now your life is now your life is now
In this undiscovered moment
Lift your head up above the crowd
We could shake this world
If you would only show us how
Your life is now”

John Mellencamp

Opus Dei and the Knights

There’s been quite a bit of buzz surrounding whether the box-office take of “The Da Vinci Code” will be follically challenged when it opens this Friday. There are also Catholic groups, including “Opus Dei” asking for a film disclaimer. Opus Dei doesn’t want to be portrayed as secretive monk-freaks… Um, whatever. As for the Catholic bureaucracy, Josh Grossberg wrote in E!-Online, “In a Good Friday sermon at St. Peter's Basilica, Father Ramiero Cantalamessa, speaking before Pope Benedict XVI, attacked the book and the upcoming film as "pseudo-historic" works aimed at undermining the Church's authority.” The church’s authority? Is that the same authority some of their priests used to rape little boys? Just wondering.

As for how the movie will do, just do the math. “Da Vinci” sold over 40 million copies of the book. Multiply that times people lending their copy to others, library borrowing, illegal Internet distribution of the text and audio version and that 40 million is probably 400 million. Those that haven’t read the book have certainly heard about it, so I expect the opening weekend to be huge. After that it will be all about word of mouth advertising. With Ron Howard directing, I expect movie-goer opinions to be stellar. I dare say that if “Da Vinci” had a love story and a sinking luxury-liner, it might end up the highest grossing film in history.

Pinch-hitting on Mother’s Day

“Happy Mother’s Day” I said with a smile as she walked out the door. Dressed in black, the mother of our children floated away, back out into the rain of a bittersweet day. Standing at my feet was our four year old grand-daughter, Mackenzie. I was told she burst into tears at church on this day. To “Kenzie,” Mother’s Day is a painful reminder of her mother, who took herself out of the game over two years ago. Her return is uncertain. “She wanted to see her Auntie Megan,” I was told. Kenzie made herself comfortable on the couch with her Uncle Kyle, so there was no need for Megan to get up just yet. Entering Megan’s room to let her know, I was horrified to see a tornado had touched down and violently swirled the contents of her room into a splintered, random mess. I climbed over the wreckage and dug through debris until I finally found her. She was sleeping soundly, unfazed by the destruction left in the wake of a wicked whirlpool of wind. Relieved my Megan survived the devastation; I kissed her cheek and told her of our visitor. She sprang up like a rookie being asked to pinch hit in a big game… a really big game. Based on Ms. Daley’s past performance in these pressure situations, I have no doubt she’ll hit a homer.

Meet Me on the Ledge

"It is so beautiful here; I wonder how many people decided to end things here and jump-off?” I didn’t know the answer to Barb’s question about the Golden Gate, but I would find out.

Research turned up “The Bridge,” a film by Eric Steel documenting the deaths of some 20 people who didn’t come to walk, or jog, or linger to absorb the beauty. They came to “cross over” the ledge to the other side. Since opening in 1937, the bridge has been magnetic to those with a death wish, and its pull has claimed over 1,300 lives.

Walk On By…
In a Q&A session during the SF Film Festival, Mr. Steel spoke of things that surprised him during his year at the bridge. One incredible observation was that many people walking by would clearly see that a person was preparing to jump, but would just keep on walking without making any effort to intervene or help. While that seems incredible, it’s not really surprising. Many among us are indeed colder than the icy waters of the San Francisco Bay.

“All my friends say, say I can fly
Maybe they're right,
At least I've got to try...

So meet me on the ledge
I'll be waiting there
You know I won't budge
But I need to get the air”

Varnaline, “Meet Me on the Ledge”
Written by Anders Parker

Beautiful...

I hear Prom Night is big with the chicks. Here are a couple from last night's prom... No, I don't have any idea why it was on a Thursday. Anyway, here's Megan (R) and her pal, Courtney. No words can explain the joy I feel seeing the smile on her face and the sparkle in her eyes. My little girl has become a smart, funny and most beautiful woman.

The Robot Strikes again...
My friend Jeff is a brilliant writer. He's the reason I'm here, and I mean that on several levels. In the last couple days he's written another of his exposes' on the Tar Hut years, and today has a sweet interview with Brian Henneman of the Bottle Rockets. They are in town June 17th... Don't miss 'em.

Kid, You Should be in Pictures!

Between work, travel and watching Love Monkey, I just haven’t had much time to write lately, but for this I’ll make time. Back in June, I posted this photo of Kyle posing with “Bruce,” the shark from “Jaws.” Yesterday, I received this email:

“On your website, I stumbled across your picture from Jawsfest posing with Bruce. I don't know if you've heard of the documentary, THE SHARK IS STILL WORKING, but I'm one of the producers of it. My name is James Gelet, and I'd like to have your permission to include that photo in the documentary. In fact if you could better yet email me a higher res version of it than what is on your site, that would be wonderful.

If you'd like to learn more about the doc, check out www.sharkisstillworking.com. I'd be happy to hear from you if you have any questions.

-James”

I quickly wrote back to James and let him know what a huge fan Kyle was and of course included a hi-res version. Here’s James’ response:

“Thanks a ton for the speedy response. We're honored to have you and Kyle in the doc. It's just going to be a quick musical break where we talk about how Greg Nicotero's shark was such a hit. We'll have a little medley of people's photos, and I think we've already made the decision to have Kyle's photo be the last one so he can stay on screen a little longer. He looks like he was really happy and had a fantastic weekend.

Thanks again, and I'd be happy to hear from you any time if you have
any questions at all.

-James”

Kyle in the movies… How cool is that?

Top 5 Openings to a Concert

Sometimes it’s the song, sometimes it’s the choreography, and sometimes it’s just because…

5. Sloan, Hampton Beach Casino, NH (2004) – Megan’s first show in a club and she was about 10 people deep from the stage when the band opened with “Gimme That.” She turned to look back at me and her smile said it all. Sure, there was Jeff Tweedy kicking off my first Wilco show with a solo version of “Gun,” and Queen in 1978 at Boston Garden opening with “Tie Your Mother Down,” and the Who, and of course my first Bruce show, but this one makes it just because…

4. Black Sabbath at Live Aid (1985) – No, they didn’t open, but when I stumbled in after an all-nighter driving from Boston and partying in the parking lot, Ozzy and Sabbath were rocking in front of a sea of 100,000 people in Philly’s old JFK stadium. Surviving that show was like going 15 with Ali.

3. Stones, U of Colorado (1981) - College roomies Phil, Marty, Pat and yours truly drove 900 miles from Tucson, AZ to see the boys and there was one song I really wanted to hear. I’d never seen the band, so the first chords Keith ripped to “Start Me Up” was good enough to make the top 5. Oh, and “Under My Thumb” they played 2 songs later…

2. KISS, Providence Civic Center, New Years Day (1976) – Lights, smoke, bombs, action! Gino’s bass line thumps as he and Paul Stanley descent 20’ high stairs opening their “Destroyer” tour show with “Detroit Rock City.”

1. Alice Cooper – I don’t remember when or where, or even what the first song was, but Alice’s theatrical entrance to the stage was the best I’ve ever seen. Ever. (Granted, I never saw Spinal Tap live…) The lights go down and a film is projected on a movie theatre screen made up of long, white vertical strips. The scene is of a wheat field being harvested. We then move to a bottling plant where large vats of clear liquid are seen and then the filling of thousands of vodka bottles… (At that point, we all got it. Alice had famous battles with the bottle, even back then. Bottle after bottle was filled and sent down the line to be capped and boxed. At the end of the line, the bottles were falling toward us and into one of twelve slots in new cardboard boxes. Suddenly one bottle is coming at us and is uncapped. Just as the vodka begins to spill from the bottle, Cooper bursts out from the projected image and onto the stage as guitars wail and drums crash. That was cool.

Honey, You’re Killing Me!

"Dad, we need an exterminator" Megan shouted out from the kitchen. I walked in with an attitude, intent on conducting a complete forensic investigation prior to paying someone to spray generic bug spray. More specifically, in our case, ant spray. The ant invasion had begun. It seems every spring, these freakin ants get off the plane from Florida and head right to my kitchen. Don't get me wrong, I'm a good cook and they know they can get a good meal here, but jeez, call ahead, willya? Megan and I have held intense strategy sessions (she'd say I just yell at her) about keeping the kitchen spotless so there's no food sources to attract the little bast... um, guys. Megan had washed the floor and i had thoroughly cleaned all countertops. The place was clean, but still, I would not have eaten off the floor. In spite of our efforts...ants. I opened up our cupboards (how come that's pronounced "cubbords"and not "cup-boards?") to see if some package was open and providing the food source I wanted eliminated. I found this.

Yes, it's shocking, but combating illegal ant immigration is a dangerous and sometimes scary vocation, and it's not always pretty. Just consider this a free, "keepin it real," good housekeeping tip from fifteenkey.com.

On The Streets of Philadelphia

There’s drink n’ dial, txt intoxicated, and blogging while blind. I don’t think I’m quite in the latter category, but it is Cinco De Mayo (that’s Greek for “Jeff’s Birthday”) and I’ve celebrated with some fine Mexican cuisine and libations appropriate for this annual festivity… Oh, so the title… Well, I’m at my brother Kevin’s house outside Philly that he shares with his very cool wife, Noreen and their adorable daughter, Margeaux. At two, my little niece looks like her Mom, but has a miniature evil streak passed from her Dad’s (and mine) side of the family.

I spent much of today working on Sales issues, trying to help my business partners close business. Closing is hard. My brother is in the business of training Sales professionals, so I asked him why it’s sometimes so hard to close business. He said, among other things, that you’ve got to find out what your prospect’s pain is and then convince then you can take it away. “What if you don’t know what the pain is,” I asked. “You either find out or find another prospect,” he replied. “Otherwise you’re wasting your time and theirs.” Thanks, bro.

Be Cool

“The Bay Area is so beautiful;
I hesitate to preach about heaven while I'm here.”

- Billy Graham

“Blog Ideas” is a document where I keep um…well, I had a note in there to write about cool based on an article I read in the Chicago Tribune. Instead, I’ll write about it within the context of one day in San Francisco, a city where (almost) everything’s cool.

Day two of the odyssey began by resuscitating Barb with a Starbucks Triple Venti Latte. Her pulse restored, Barb was ready to seize the day. I was just ready for some breakfast. The place we found could not have been more perfect after a long day into night involving some great California wines. Adel’s Restaurant is on the corner of Wabash & Broadway, in Eureka, CA. It was so cool. It was Samuel L. Jackson cool. In fact, I was sure we’d hear Sam saying this before we left, but he must have been delayed with Mr. Wolf. After refueling on a breakfast that rocked the cholesterol Richter scale, we were off to the city by the bay (did I just quote a Journey song? OMG, I’m sorry…). I won’t get into a major retelling of the whole day, but pretty much everything we did ended with a “that didn’t suck.” Here's the punch list:

• Jamba Juice
• The View (Yeah, click the photo above...)
• Legion of Honor
• Haight-Ashbury
• Amoeba Records
• Kezar Pub
• The Buena Vista
• Lou's Pier 47 Blues Club
• Sir Francis Drake Hotel

It’s a tough call on what was the “coolest” thing we did on that particular Sunday. For me it was likely the return to the Legion of Honor museum. On my inaugural visit, I didn’t appreciate art the way I do now, so it was like seeing an old friend years after acquiring some semblance of wisdom and maturity. Fun hit it’s highpoint at Lou’s Blues where we made fun of the “Fleetwood Mac” type drama we thought we were seeing. It was pretty clear the bass player, think Art Garfunkel without the money, was “with” the female lead singer, and the completely disengaged guitar player um, wasn’t… anymore. It was such a contrast to see “Art,” mojo on, jumping around in “Krameresque” fashion while the guitar player played almost motionless, a blank gaze pointed out the window to Jefferson Street below.

By the time we sat down for dinner at the end of Day 2, I had a blank gaze of my own; one of complete exhaustion. Barb claims the waitress flashed her a couple “boy, he seems like a lot of fun” looks, but I didn’t catch those. I’d seen enough for one day.

Picking up the Signals

Day 1 of my excellent San Francisco adventure took me to California’s wine country. The beauty of the countryside around the Bay area is both complex and simple as illustrated by the intricate row houses of the city back dropped by rolling green hills. The land flattens out and the hills embrace as you enter Napa Valley. Cornerstone Gardens was our first stop and is a collection of 20 garden landscapes, each created by a famous landscape architect. We walked around and snapped a few pictures, including sad, photographic evidence of where I lost my Bluetooth headset. After building up a thirst, it was time to toast Barb’s new job with a glass of the bubbly at Gloria Ferrer Champagne Caves. Of course it’s not really “champagne” because the grapes are grown in California, but I don’t want to go all “wine snob” on you…

It was a great day including service by a “Wheel of Fortune” winner at Domaine Carneros and a nice tasting at my favorite winery out there, V. Sattui. The wineries caught us by surprise with their 5:00 – 6:00 pm closings, so we headed to Bistro Jeanty in Yountville to see if we could get a table before our 8:30 reservation. We sat at the bar drinking wine until they sat us around um, 8:15… Dinner was spectacular and a fitting end to a wonderful day. Well, except it wasn’t quite the end. We still had a little ride from Yountville in Napa Valley to Santa Rosa in Sonoma. Yeah, we were headed over the hills and through the woods in the dark, through clouds of valley mist and fermented grape.

Barb was at her post in the co-pilot seat and she had the map firmly grasped in her hands. Unfortunately, her hands were attached to her sleeping self. Yep, my trusty navigator was counting sheep after a 20 hour day. I needed a Plan B, and I had one. As you may recall, I posess the Swiss Army knife of the technology realm: The “Jack Bauer” edition Palm Treo. On it I have the until now, classified “Directory Assistant” app.

With thumping music building a fake sense of tension in the background, I quickly found the hotel address and then plugged in our current zip code. In less time than you can say “24,” the directions were on my screen. I punched the gas pedal (not really, we were in a “thickly settled” 20mph zone) and screeched toward our destination. Barb continued to hold the map. I’m certain some terrorist likely named “Marwahn” probably spiked each and every glass of wine she had that evening.

(We’ll now return to reality…)

I wanted the right music for this “rural route” home. Uncle Tupelo’s “Anodyne,” as it has before, got the job done. It turned out to be an apt soundtrack to the dark, slow ride through the twists and turns separating life in each valley. The songs got me thinking. They also got me singing. For me, that music is cleansing like a hard rain. Its words offering a slightly different meaning each time they’re heard; some more pointed, depending on time and circumstance. On that night, on the road I found myself on, one line stood out:

“Danger/Slow" says the sign ahead”

The Treo got us to our hotel and I got Barb and her luggage (I swear it was so freakin heavy I think Hervé Villechaize was in there...) off to her room and then I found mine. It was a campus layout, so I just followed the signs. It's really that easy. If you open your eyes, the signs are there. It's up to you whether or not to follow them.