NostraDNIS

Dear "Phil,"

While I appreciate your messages about the "huge opportunity" for me with Yahoo!, Google and Bing, can't your predictive dialer predict that no one will be in our office to answer your calls at 10:00 p.m. night after night?

Sincerely yours,

Sleeping in Suburbia

P.S. I have been channeling Miss Cleo lately and have some amazing insights for you including this: no one is interested. Give it a rest.

California Stars

Customer satisfaction survey data tabulation. Net promoter scores. Employee focus group facilitation. Screening job candidates. Travel. Email newsletters. Secondary industry research. Market size. Growth rates. Testimonial ad campaigns. Outbound telemarketing vendor sourcing. Competitive analysis. Expense reports. Financial trends across business units.

Not complaining. Just need a nap. And more hours in the day.

I'd like to rest my heavy head tonight
On a bed of California stars
I'd like to lay my weary bones tonight
On a bed of California stars

Not All Almas Mat(t)er

I got a call from my undergrad university last night and answered the phone with zero intention of giving. While I had heaps of fun there, I never learned much. (Note: Not pointing fingers at them, Lord knows.) Grad school was, thankfully, a completely different story.

The girl on the phone said to me, "We're really appreciative of any small amount that you can give and we're still grateful for the $10 you gave in 1990."

Holy crap! How embarrassing, right? A mere $10 over 20 years ago? What a cheapskate!

Oddly enough, I remember giving that year -- including exactly where I took the call. (I was standing at my kitchen sink in a red farmhouse that house I rented on Jefferson Road. Weird to remember that, right?) The guy who called told me that any amount would help offset the costs of great student events and cited a free Psychedelic Furs concert that I had attended. Ka-ching! We actually chatted about bands for awhile: for me, a winning strategy. In his case, it paid to do his homework (albeit a pittance).

Every telemarketing campaign should play off people's interests (e.g., music) or weaknesses (e.g., shame, lack of honor) this successfully. In my case, providing hard data and a timeline to show precisely how long it had been since my hard heart opened roughly one tenth of one percent and abruptly closed again.

I'm a rotter.

I just hope that overwhelmingly generous $50 given last night goes far over the next four score and twenty years . . .

Yeah for me!

Adorkable

Son #2 (squeezing his balding, stuffed monkey): You are soooooo adorable.

Son #1: More like "adorkable."

In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey . . .

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes

This week I went to Son #1's middle school for open house and hustled from class to class following his schedule and meeting his teachers. My the times they are a-changin'!

The teachers all wear mics around their necks and their voices are piped through speakers across the ceiling so that even when the teacher has his/her back to the classroom, for example while writing on the board, the sound is clearly audible. Nothing distracting.

And just when I thought the smart boards were cool, the kids now have handheld remotes by which they answer questions in class (like the audience voting in Who Wants to be a Millionaire) and the results can be displayed real-time via charts. Pop quizzes are automatically calculated and uploaded into the "infinite campus" where I can review my son's grades whenever I want: monthly, daily, minute-by-minute.

The teachers give out their cell phone numbers and students call or text them with questions. My teachers were never that accessible. And to the best of my knowledge, my teachers never had first names, did they? (Except the nuns: they never had last names.)

What else? The school is structured around a set of Core Values including kindness, respect, caring, integrity and justice. Not only are these values painted around the school, they're incorporated in the grading system. In gym, you don't have to be a super athlete to get an A. You have to try hard and behave in accordance with the value system. Pretty impressive.

Lastly, speaking of gym, it isn't just traditional sports like swimming, soccer and relay races. Last year, the kids staged a flash mob. What the ? We certainly never did that!

I have to say, I think Son #1 has found his element. The freedom to pursue what he wants and have fun. Pretty darned cool.

Strange fascination, fascinating me
Changes are taking the pace I'm going through

Dishap Defined

We've been playing this game in the evenings lately where I repeatedly throw an inflatable ball toward the back door and the kids try to block it from hitting. Or I throw it into the air and the kids have to dive for the couch and catch it before it lands. Except when we knock a lamp over or cause items to fall from the mantle, there are usually a few funny plays that make us laugh.

In the midst of the mayhem the other night, Son #2 said, "Stop laughing at my dishaps." We asked him, "What's a dishap?" and he responded, "It's a mishap and a disability."

Puhlease. The only person in our house with any physical limitations is me. Just ask the ceiling fan/light fixture how it felt after I smashed it to pieces with the Shake Weight. Maybe I should only be allowed to play outdoors. Better yet, maybe I should stick to reading books; leave the activities to the pros.

Steve Madden NFL

And now for a new addition to the list of things that I never thought I'd have to say:
"Don't chase your brother while he's wearing high heels."

Strangers with Candy

Yesterday, a delivery man stopped by with a large package from one of our vendors. As he stood there, I opened it and (like an ingrate) said, "I really don't need any of this crap." He noted the bag of cookies on top and responded, "My grandmother taught me never to turn down chocolate chip cookies."

Me: Oh really? Would you like some cookies??

Him: No thanks.

Apparently someone isn't heeding grandma's advice. This clearly falls in the "save your marketing dollars for someone who cares" category. Between designing, printing, sourcing, picking, packing, shipping and delivering -- what a colossal waste of money. The irony of it all was the 96 page, four-color, bound "we mean green" insert. Put your money where your mouth is? Oh well. Time for some cookies.

IHOP

Q: Is it strange that our son pulls his pants down, bends over, pretends his cute, little, naked butt is talking and calls said talking butt "Dr. Waffles"?

A: Not in our house. Nope, not strange at all.

Oh, oh, oh, oh Wilco

What's on the docket this weekend?

Why a quick trip across the lake to Toronto with my girlfriend Yams to see Nick Lowe and Wilco. Hey, that rhymes! Oh, oh, oh, oh Nick Lowe.

Watching the Detectives

I arrived at work this morning to find my usually locked door slightly ajar. And by slightly ajar, I mean completely smashed off the door frame.

Pretty subtle, eh? The perp (I never get to use that term!) used our water bottle in the hallway as a battering ram. Clever, right?

Me, not being fully awake at 7:00 a.m., thought the following: Hmmm, why is our water bottle on the ground? Wow, did I leave the door unlocked last night? What is that mess on the floor?

I continued to walk into my office where I noticed my laptop unplugged and moved. Odd, right? Ohhhhhhhhhh, wait a minute . . .

None too quick.

Of course, I immediately called the police. The dispatcher asked if anyone else was there. "Nope, the entire parking lot and garage are empty." Just then I heard footsteps. "Oh, I take that back, I hear someone upstairs."

Her response, "Get outside and away from the building right now." (The killer is in the house!)

So the cops came, looked around, took fingerprints and heaps of photos, asked oodles of questions about ex-coworkers/marital status/disputes and left. Now I'm sitting here alone waiting for someone from the building management to fix my door; otherwise, I cannot leave to go anywhere. No clients today anyway but now no errands. No library research. No nothing.

Super sleuth that I am, I did mention to the officers how the alarm did, in fact, say "burglary in progress" when I turned it off this morning. However, it says that almost every day. So often that they disconnected the alarm from the 911 system. I also mentioned how the door to the front lawn was wide open. Also a daily event. What none of us noticed was the hallway window open or the footprints in the side yard leading to my window. Scary . . .

When we packed up the office and moved everything to Denver last week, I didn't think there would be so many fun and fabulous events in store for me. Sure, my friend Charlie -- who is suddenly alone in an office in Baltimore -- and I joked about naked Skype-ing (time to go on the diet!) but never did I imagine I could be all alone with danger. Danger! Lucky me.

What's freaky is that nothing was taken. Aborted attempt? Someone messing with me? 

I guess this means I should leave before it gets dark every night. Always an upside!

Foxy!

Yesterday, I went to a new client site. One guy's office that I entered was filled to the brim. Boxes on the floor with parts, cords, papers. Racks and racks of WIP that were rolled in from the production floor. It was difficult to make a path through the wreckage just to sit at his desk.

Me: Wow, I really like what you've done with this place.

Him: Well, if I knew what a fox you were, I would have picked up a bit.

Two thoughts: 1) I love you. Really. What a nice compliment from a total stranger (albeit strangely unprofessional). It really pays to have clients out in the boondocks where I still pass as foxy. 2) A fox? Who the heck says that?! OMG. I just met with Garth!

Sign Sign Everywhere a Sign

On our trip, we encountered two signs that I wish I had snapped pictures of  (yeah, another pesky dangling preposition):

(1) "Back by popular demand: fried bologna biscuits" (Shining brightly in front of a vile Hardees somewhere near a real-life, Deliverance-like, hellhole in VA)

(2) "Antique tables made daily" (another VA gem)

The good news? I found the latter online. And, in an odd twist of fate, I think we actually own one.

Summer Vacation: Stop #5

Our final stop on Summer Vacation 2011 was spent at a beautiful resort in the mountains of PA: the Bedford Springs Hotel. It turned out to be a great place to explore. I started immediately upon check-in by heading to the tavern with Grannie and Son #2 in tow. We also found the game room with giant puzzles, chess boards, books, etc. Every room was so well appointed.

And there were little surprises hidden throughout. Nooks and crannies to escape and read a book. It had the requisite gift and pro shops but also a candy store as well as this sweet (!)  ice cream and cupcake shop.

Pretty sure I could live here--especially if we could have hot chocolate for breakfast every morning!

We had the luxuriously warm, spring-fed, indoor pool to ourselves. That's me impersonating a jumbo shrimp.

Thanks to Hurricane Irene, we had the dark, overcast, outdoor pool to ourselves, as well.

 

Time to leave the pools, go back to the room to change and start driving home.

The only wave of "can we go now?" boredom struck as we waited for the car. Hey, that's what the large ottomans in the lobby are for, right?

Goodbye summer. Goodbye vacation.

Summer Vacation: Stop #4

Stop #4 was not originally in our plan. It wasn't until we spent over two hours stuck in traffic on I-95 heading out of DC earlier in the week that my VA-based brother suggested we take an alternate route home and stop at their place in Charlottesville, VA. A little off-track but likely to be roughly the same length of time. Sounded good to us!

Although we didn't stay overnight, we had a wonderful afternoon visiting them, touring Thomas Jefferson's Monticello and having a bite to eat. Thanks to my bro for taking the time off for us and to both him and my sister-in-law for running around gathering necessities for our stay (e.g., air mattresses, chocolate and pop-tarts) only to realize we were motoring on.

Grannie and Aunt Sue (a.k.a. Jackie O) in front of the flowers that were stunningly gorgeous but said flowers look more like weeds on this pic from my iPhone.  (But Grannie and Sue still look lovely!)

 

Little man sitting outside the west front of the home wearing his new, 70s-inspired, Save the Endangered Sea Turtles t-shirt from Grannie.

A perfect break from our long drive home!

Summer Vacation: Stop #3 continues . . .

Our week-long stay at Ocean Isle Beach, NC was so awesome. Church on the beach. Swimming in the waaaaaarm ocean. Swimming in the pool. Renting bicycles. Relaxing. Learning about sea turtles and their nesting patterns. No pressure. No laptop. Just the chance to hang with my NC brother and his adorable family for the first time in a couple of years.

My sister-in-law found a great little condo right on the beach. Here is our backyard.

Here are some men fishing on the sound (on the other side of our condo) taken from where Grannie and I were sitting on a bench and meditating (or chatting, you decide).

So peaceful. Actually, the entire island was fairly deserted. Probably because schools in the South start earlier than those of their northern kinfolk. Possibly because of the impending hurricane. Either way, it was great.

My kids got a chance to spend time with their youngest cousin. So blinkin' cute. They also got a chance to hear his sweet lil' Southern accent and learn some new phrases of their own. "Don't you backjaw me boy."

The best part for me, other than being all snugly with the family, is always the beach.

Goodbye Ocean Isle Beach. You were very good to us.