Lazy Advertising = No Deal

I've been at home sick for the past three days. I hate summer colds. But what I hate more is lazy advertising. You know, the kind of ad you see where you just think to yourself "Did they really think that was the best thing to do?" or "Man, they really didn't spend anytime thinking about that did they?".

Today I received two pieces of direct mail that caused me to pause and ask "What were they thinking?"

One was from a local Nissan dealer. We used to have a Maxima so we had taken our car there in the past. We've bought cars from their Honda dealership in the past too. We have been pleased with both the sales and service relationship at the dealership so it was not surprising to get a direct mail piece from them. We've gotten them in the past. It wasn't even surprising to see the caliber of the creative. It is what you would expect. Not good.

The second piece was from Time Warner Cable. We do not have cable. In fact Time Warner Cable is on my list of companies that if given no other choice I still would not do business with them. Long story, but let's just say that they wanted to charge us $10,000 to cut down trees so they could get a line to the house. All of our neighbors have cable and didn't have to go through that. Okay... feeling a rant coming that is going to get me off topic... so back to the ads.

So we got an ad from a car dealer and an ad from a cable company. And what message did they choose to use? They both stole/borrowed/used with creative license from the TV show Deal Or No Deal. Here are the ads for each:







I expect a car dealership to add to the messaging clutter that's out there. I even expect them to rip off their message from a game show like Deal Or No Deal. I do, for some reason even though I won't do business with them, expect more from Time Warner Cable. Maybe it's because I know they can hire a big time agency to do the work. Maybe it's because I've seen some of their communication efforts that have been of a higher quality in the past. Maybe it's because when I see a car dealership do the same thing I think that Time Warner Cable has really hit rock bottom.

Now, that's slamming Time Warner Cable a lot, but perhaps I should say a thing something about O'Neill Nissan contributing to the clutter too. C'mon guys! You can do a whole lot better. In fact if you want to really stand out do not take an idea that anyone can think of and slap your name on it. Think about your customers. You must have reams of data on us. There has to be something there that you can use to develop an insightful communication. What about your sales people? Did you talk to them? They surely have some insight you could have used. Instead you were lazy and added to the clutter.

So the message here? It does not matter what size your company is, what industry you are in, what your advertising budget is... you too can produce bad advertising. All you have to do is... not think.

Lazy Advertising = No Deal

Scarred For Life

I have a scar on my head. Two actually, but only one I can see. I also have a scar on my elbow, on my left foot between my big toe and its neighbor, on my stomach, three on my shoulder, one on the middle finger of my right hand and one on my left wrist. Those are the ones that have not faded. I can still see these. Some are from surgeries. Some are from accidents.

There is a story to go with each scar. Life lessons that I am reminded of every day. Here is what I've learned from each:

Scar on middle finger of right hand: Let sleeping dogs lie. Especially if they are hung over.

Scar on left wrist: Only a licensed physician should remove a ganglion cyst. There isn't a bible big enough, nor is Gram strong enough to smash it to smithereens - though she really wanted to.

Scar on foot by big toe: Some people are inconsiderate and won't stop to help even though the damage caused was because of their actions.

Scar on elbow: recycling can be dangerous and a some politicians can be real and nice.

Scar on stomach: people who love you will make sure you are taken care of when you cannot do it yourself

Scars on shoulder: not everything can be fixed.

Scar on head: Gram, at times, has a very disturbed sense of humor.

Scarred For Life

Lindsey Mulligan Where Are You Now?

Tonight I was looking through some of my old notes and letters I received back in my Wienermobile days and came across one of my favorites. I never met the person who wrote it, but I imagine now that she had a personality somewhat like my eldest daughter. Here is the note she left on the windshield of the Wienermobile while Jeanne and I were eating dinner at a nearby restaurant:


When we returned to the Wienermobile and read the note we immediately packed up two wiener whistles, a watch and a hot wheels Wienermobile and left them in the mailbox for Lindsey. It was the least we could do for a fan.

I remember people asking me why we smiled all the time when we drove the big dog around. Letters like this are the reason.

Lindsey Mulligan Where Are You Now?

From Normandy to Kentucky

I've been on vacation for the past two weeks. Some of the things I've done while away:

• took three guided tours
  
• visited one cemetary
• visited one abbey
• swam in one lake impounded (built) by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers
  
• fell off a jet ski eight times (six times on purpose)
• went fishing with my daughters (they caught six fish - three each)
• attended a family reunion
• spent sixteen hours in the Odyssey driving with the family
• got sunburned twice (two different continents)
• took four rolls of film, filled one compact flash card with photos
• played one game of checkers
• went swimming in both an indoor and outdoor pool
• ate at McDonald's twice (two different continents)
• listened to the girls watch 102 Dalmations three times; Barbie Swan Lake twice; The Worst Witch once
  
• saw the world's longest tapestry
• played sixteen holes of golf
• walked on beaches in two different continents & found seashells at both
• spent twenty six hours in airplanes, airports and on tarmacs
• visited the home of Monet
• played Trivial Pursuit
• fixed a flat tire
• called into the office once... officially (calling Sam's cell phone twice doesn't count does it?)
• went to the top of the Arch in St. Louis
• went two weeks without watching tv or reading a newspaper
• played Sodoku and got addicted
• read The World Is Flat by Thomas L. Friedman
• came up with three new business opportunities, ideas for two new paintings and a video to make for the girls
• attended a going away party for a former colleague
• made plans to buy a kitten for the girls
• shared a chocolate bag with Mary and Gram
  
• thought up reasons to explain why I haven't posted in over three weeks and then decided to get the point across with this list

I'm sure there is more that we did, but I cannot recall all the details now. We had a wonderful time with family and friends over the past two weeks. Though it was refreshing and fun I am glad to be back at home in my own bed tonight.

Now to catch up on some sleep. Good night!

From Normandy to Kentucky

Heaven Left Me Feeling Slimy

This past weekend was spent at a Westin Hotel in Las Vegas. Aside from getting some really great work done, the best part of the weekend was experiencing the Westin "Heavenly Bed". It was by far the best hotel bed that I have splept in. I was on board with the experience being "heavenly".

The concept of delivering a heavenly experience extended beyond the bed to other parts of the room. They had provided heavenly towels, heavenly pillows, heavenly shower curtains (which were curved to give extra room in the shower - how heavenly).

When I woke up the first morning of our stay at the hotel I felt refreshed. I did indeed have a heavenly night's sleep. I was buying into this brand experience 100%. I was "all in" as they say in Vegas.

Leaving the comfort of my heavenly bed I strolled merrily to the bathroom to take what I anticipated to be a heavenly shower. I may have even been whistling a tune. Something perky I'm sure. I turned on the water to just the right temperature - not scalding hot, but not luke warm- somewhere in between.

I stepped into the shower and put shampoo in my hair and grabbed a bar of heavenly white soap. And this is where I got mad at the Westin. What I discovered in the shower made me temporarily forget the heavenly night's sleep I just woke from. The hotel had not delivered a 360 degree heavenly experience. In fact there was just one element that I experienced that almost ruined it all for me. The water that came out of the shower head was soft. And I hate soft water.

Now, I know I shouldn't necessarily blame the hotel for the soft water. It was probably out of their control. But I did spend quite a long time in the shower trying to get the slimy soft water feeling off my body, face and hands. I felt like Leonardo DiCaprio as Howard Hughes in the Aviator. I just could not get my hands clean. I scrubbed and scrubbed them to the point where they were starting to feel raw.

Later on in the day I shared my frustration with Sam, Mike, Ky and Julie about the soft water. Julie actually prefers soft water. For her the experience very well may have been 100% heavenly. But for me and the rest of us who prefer hard water to soft, the Westin was running a risk of failing to deliver as strong a brand experience as they could.

I know this may be asking a lot of a hotel to be able to control the water, but wouldn't that be something if they asked upon check-in to the hotel "Welcome to the Westin Mr. Duff. Would you prefer hard or soft water for your stay with us?"

Now that would be delivering a heavenly experience.

Heaven Left Me Feeling Slimy

Not Quite The "Big Orange Head" But Close

A man walks into a bar with a pile of dog poop in his hand. He straddles up to the bar, turns to the man sitting next to him and says "Hey, look what I almost stepped in!"

Not Quite The "Big Orange Head" But Close

A Celebration of Cake

I had delicious piece of cake today and I was reminded that I had written a post about cake back in January, but never uploaded it. Here it is... a few months later, yet still relevant I think....

This past week we celebrated my wife's birthday, were with our friends as their baby girl was baptized and attended the funeral of my brother-in-laws mother. Each event was a celebration of life.

One was a celebration of a life just beginning. One was a celebration of a life in progress. And one was a celebration of a life completed. The common link with these three celebrations? Aside from me and Mary? Cake. Cake was served at each function.

That isn't really surprising. Cake is often served at birthdays, baptisms and funerals. It got me thinking though... a serving of cake is really a symbolic way of celebrating life. We don't have cake every day, so does that mean we aren't celebrating life everyday? That seems wrong. I think we should celebrate life everyday. Life is too short to miss an opportunity to eat cake.

I've spent, oh, just about three minutes thinking of some suggestions for opportunities to serve cake and to celebrate life. There are really lots of opportunities. Here are a few:

At the Olympics. The Olympics are all about celebrating the world coming together right? And great athletic performances? Cake could be served at the medals ceremony. Two pieces of cake for each reason to celebrate.

After the Royals win a game. If they ever win again we'd all be celebrating wouldn't we? How about after they win everyone in attendance gets a piece of cake? I'd be more likely to attend and I think the players would play harder if they knew cake was on the line.

After completing taxes. No one likes the pain of filling out all that paperwork. Why not celebrate getting it done with a nice piece of cake.

There are lot's of everyday events we can celebrate and have cake:

• When you get the car washed.
• Getting a good report card.
• Getting out of a speeding ticket.
• Spring cleaning.
• Finishing a long book.
• Finishing a bad book.
• Writing a book.
• Getting hired.
• Getting fired.
• Giving birth to a child.
• Not having to be the one who gives birth.
• Finishing a post you started three months ago.
• Not having to do laundry.

There are many opportunities to celebrate life each and every day.

I'm off to bed now to get some sleep, think about simple everyday events that I can celebrate and the next time I'm going to Costco to get one of their incredible sheet cakes.

So my point? Simple. Eat cake and celebrate life.

What are you going to celebrate?

A Celebration of Cake

Why I Love PBS

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways... in no particular order here are the reasons why our family remains "cable free":

1. PBS Kids (CyberChase, Clifford, Arthur... and on and on...)
2. Frontline
3. Keeping Up Appearances
4. Antiques Roadshow
5. As Time Goes By
6. Austin City Limits
7. Independent Lens
8. Nightly Business Report
9. Monty Python's Flying Circus
10. Red Green
11. Rare Visions and Roadside Revelations
12. Nature
13. Mystery!
14. BBC World News
15. Nova
16. Charlie Rose (for his guests)
17. American Masters
18. Rick Steves
19. Ken Burns
20. American Experience
21. Globe Trekkers
22. This Old House

Why I Love PBS

What's In A Name?

The girls have been suggesting names for the baby. Let's just say that the names they've come up with would certainly make family history.

At first Hannah wanted a baby sister she could call Patsy. This is directly influenced by a book we gave her prior to Grace's arrival on the scene. In that book a girl named Hannah was told that a she was going to be a big sister again. She decided that since she already had a little brother named Sam that this one would be a girl. She would name it Patsy. Patsy would have red hair, like chocolate swirl ice cream and her first word would be "Hannah".

So... Hannah's first choice for a girls name is Patsy. Grace on the other hand wants to name the baby Orange Juice. Orange Juice? Yes. Orange Juice.

When asked what a good name would be if we had a boy Hannah suggested Benjamin. That is the name the parents gave the baby in the book (it was a boy of course). Grace wants to name the baby Orange Juice.

Then Hannah thought it would be a good idea for mommy to have twins. Twin boys in fact. She would name them Hank and Frank. We tried to tell her that we knew there was only one baby on the way, but that did not sway her away from telling mommy that she needed to have twins. Grace didn't get the idea of twins, so no input from her on naming them.

Then today Hannah started talking about baby Benjamin again. Grace heard this and interrupted by saying "We are going to name the baby Orange Juice!"

This time Hannah took note of Grace's suggestion. I guess hearing it for the fifteenth time set her off. The dialogue that followed went something like this:

"Orange Juice? We can't name the baby Orange Juice."

"Yes we can" said Grace

"No we can't. What would happen if you asked for a glass of Orange Juice in the morning and daddy put the baby on the table instead? You can't drink a baby."

"Then we'll call the baby Milky"

"But you might ask daddy for some milky and then he'd put the baby on the table again. And you might try to drink it!"

"Then we'll call the baby Hudengakepdapoo!"

That just made Hannah and Grace break out in an uncontrollable fit of the giggles. Mary and I giggled too.

What's In A Name?

Helmets & Goggles

On Thursday I received a phone call from a person who we had hired. She was calling to let me know that she would not be starting on Monday. In fact she was not going to be coming to work at all. Her current employer made a counter offer and she decided that it was too good an offer/opportunity to pass up. It was a surprise to hear, not for the counter offer, but for the fact that she shared with us that one of the reasons she was looking to come to work for us was because her fiancee was here in town. She is currently in another city. It seemed to be a good fit all around.

I'm disappointed. Not for the fact that she is not coming to join us. Not for the fact that her company counter offered. I cannot blame anyone for making a decision based on facts that I do not fully understand. She has to do what she feels is best for her. You have to respect that.

I am disappointed because we had waited four weeks for her to start at our agency. I wish she had made this decision sooner and let us know so we could move on. Instead we were in limbo for four weeks and now have to start the interview process again.

Sam pointed out that it is better to have this information now before she started, than to have her make a decision a day, week or month into the job. Okay. I can see that. He's been through this far more often than I. I often wonder how an owner of a business does it. I think I have an idea.

At a former job there was a saying for the pace of work. We didn't have a lot of internal help, yet had a huge workload to tackle. The VP of Marketing told me that they way to survive was all about "helmets and goggles". Just put them on and keep on truckin'.

So, with that I am mentally putting on my helmet and goggles and getting ready to keep moving forward. Onward and upward.

Helmets & Goggles

I Cheated. I Feel Shame.

I thought there was no way I would go back. I was wrong.

The relationship I had been working on over the past three and half months was the right one. I knew it. I wanted it to work out. I really did. I knew cheating was bad. Cheating meant that I was weak. I'd had a long standing affair for many years. Who was I to think that I would be able to move on?

There was no pressure from the other party to get back together. There was no reason to abandon my new relationship. Sure it was new and new sometimes wears off, but it was healthy. No doubt about that. It was healthy.

I caved on Monday. Tax day.

I've tried to justify this in my head. After all when I cheated it wasn't with the one I'd been having an affair with for the past three years. I went back to the one I knew first.

Unlike Odysseus the journey I was on was self imposed. And no one nor anything was out to stop me from going back for another taste of that sweet, sweet nectar. No Scylla. No Charybdis. The only thing preventing me from going back was my own will power.

I feel I must admit my guilt publicly and ask for forgiveness from my recent partner and my previous drinking buddy. I've cheated on you both.

So I'm sorry bottled water. I owe you an apology. You were good, still are, but I could not resist the siren call of cola.

And to you Diet Dr. Pepper. I thought my affair with you was the right thing to do. After all you were diet cola. For a while I thought that was a healthy alternative.

But my first love. My drinking partner from my youth. The beverage I loved so much that I could and would drink it warm. I have come home. I missed you Classic Coca Cola. It was good to be with you again.

But if I gain back the ten pounds I lost while living with only water I will drop you like a rock. I am that fickle.

I Cheated. I Feel Shame.

Bedside Book List

I'm trying a little experiment tonight. I've got a stack of books on my bedside table. I haven't thought about doing this experiment until just now, so you'll have to excuse me if this doesn't work out.

What I am going to do is to try to make a sentence out of the titles of the books on my bedside table. Now, keep in mind that I usually have a pretty big stack there all the time. The books switch in and out, but I can usually count on five or six there each day. I don't know if this will work but here goes a few attempts with the books I have here tonight:

Sentence #1:
You will Never Be Lied To Again if you First, Break All The Rules, indulge in Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs, learn The Five Love Languages of Children and find work at a Creative Company that has gone from Good To Great... that is The Future of Advertising. What Did I Just Say!?!?

Sentence #2:
A Creative Company that desires to establish The Future Of Advertising must not only understand the Five Love Languages of Children, but evolve from a Good To Great company that embraces the idea that you must First, Break All The Rules, limit the amount of Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs and never Never Be Lied To Again. What Did I Just Say!?!?

Sentence #3:
The Future of Advertising involves Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs. What Did I Just Say!?!? Going from Good To Great requires that you First, Break All The Rules and learn The Five Love Languages of Children. You'll find that if you do this you will not only Never Be Lied To Again, but also discover that you work at a Creative Company.

Okay... #3 contains more than one sentence, but this is really hard to do as just one! Try it yourself. It's tough.


If you want to try this at home follow these steps:

1) Don't plan in advance. Quick - look over a the bedside table... these are the only books you are allowed to use and you must use all of them!
2) Try to use as few words as possible to link the titles together. You'll likely need to create some copy to connect the titles, otherwise it might not make sense at all and will merely be a list of books. And this is boring.
3) Try a writing the sentence a few different ways. Change the order around.
4) Link the titles to Amazon so we can check out the books in more detail.
5) Let me know if you've done this. I'd love to see what others come up with

Bedside Book List

Grey Hair Where?

Okay... Let's get this out of the way... I have thinning hair. Okay... really thinning hair. I'm waiting for the day when I go for it and shave it down just to get rid of it. No comb overs for me.

Thinning hair is usually a good indicator that a guy is getting older. The emergence of a bald spot is definitely a key life marker. If a guy has older brothers he can pretty well watch their hairlines and gauge when his will reach the same points. Not for me though. My thin spot appeared around the same time as my eldest brother. So I was never really able to gauge when my hairline would reach certain stages.

So I cannot gauge my age by where the hairline is. I know, I should really know how old I am right? The thing is I like to keep track of things and be able to manage my own expectations. Stages of hair loss as a marker of age makes sense right? Right.

The good news is that I've found another way to gauge my age. Grey hairs.

Now it's not uncommon for guys in their twenties to get random grey hair here and there. And it's not uncommon for some guys to go prematurely grey. The key again, I think, is to keep track of what is going on with the older siblings.

I've got three older brothers so I've also got great research resources. All I have to do is to find out from them how much grey they have, when they went grey and plot it out on a calendar. An added twist to this is not to ask them how many grey hairs they have, but to find out when they first saw it on different parts of their bodies. You see, last week I found a single grey hair on my leg. I wonder when Kevin first found a grey hair on his calf?

I'll have to call each now and ask. This might be a weird conversation.

Grey Hair Where?

The Montessori Redemption

Hannah goes to a great school. She really likes it. Her teacher is wonderful, the class size is just right and they have a great playground out in back. In fact, I think it's the playground she likes the best. Scratch that. I know it is the playground she likes best. And I'm talking the actual ground on which she plays, not the equipment.

Oh sure, they've got a really nice swing set, a red car and a blue car. They've also got that industrial strength play equipment that only the really nice playgrounds have. It comes in several large sections with stairs, slides, monkey bars. It's bright red, yellow and blue. Someone was nice enough to donate it to the school. It is really nice.

But what Hannah really likes is the ground on which it sits. I'm talking about the pea gravel. It's all over the place. How do I know this? Because every day she brings a pocket full of pea gravel home with her to keep in her "collection".

She's brought so much of it home over the past year that I'm beginning to think she's trying to dig a tunnel from the playground to the Sonic down the street. She loves Sonic too, though I think she's only been there once before.

I don't think she's caught on yet, but Hannah's collection doesn't seem to grow. She often brings home two pockets full of rocks, which I in turn return to the school playground each week. I feel like Andy Dufresne from Shawshank Redemption.

On the mornings when the kids are outside before school begins I find myself shuffling my feet on the ground as I head to the clipboard to sign Hannah in for the day. As I shuffle along I subtly drop the rocks in my pockets back to the ground from whence they came. My shoes may get dusty, but this is where the rocks belong.

I'm sure she'll have more collections throughout the years, I just hope whatever she takes from school for a new collection is small enough to fit in my pockets so I can return them as needed. I'd hate to have to get special pants made.

The Montessori Redemption

Email Rules, er... Rules For Using Email

Smoke & Meers: Digital Hell

Sam wrote this great post on Continuous Partial Attention and some of the pitfalls of email communications. It got me thinking about email communications. I think he's on to something. Here are some office communication rules I would like to see everyone use:

1. When you have something to say to someone, go find them and have a face to face conversation.

2. Only use the phone to talk with someone when you have obstacles in your way that prevent you from having the conversation in person.

3. Never use email to start a conversation.

4. Only use email to send files.

5. If someone starts a conversation with you via email and you wish to respond, first attempt to talk to them in person (see rule #1).

6. If you have something to say to a group of people and want a dialogue with them... call a meeting.

7. Smiley faces are a poor way of communicating tone. If you think emoticons can prevent misinterpretation of your words you are in trouble. 55% of understanding what someone is saying comes from non verbal cues. 38% of understanding what someone is saying comes from tone. Only 7% of understanding what someone says is absorbed by listening to their words. In an email you cannot see body language, hear real tone or inflection or actually "listen" to what is being said.

8. Turn off the email. Put the phone off the hook and open the office door. Try it and see what happens. People who really need to talk to you will come find you. Then you can have a quality conversation because you are face to face.

9. Instant Messaging should also be avoided if possible, but is not as bad as email communications because of the real time conversation ability. Still need to be aware of misinterpretation of tone.

10. If you do use email, make sure that you have spell check set on automatic. This feature will always ask you if you want to spell check your email before it is sent. If you do not do this, and you have typo's in your communication you will come across as a) a poor speller and b) too lazy to check your communication before it heads out the door.

I'd love to hear feedback on these suggested rules. If you think this is worth talking about some more, please come find me to talk. If you'd like to get feedback from a group of people please set up a meeting for all to get together and discuss!

Thanks!

Email Rules, er... Rules For Using Email

Afraid Of The Dark

Tonight, as I was sitting at the dining room table watching The Apprentice and doing a little work on the computer, our three year old came toddling down the stairs from her bedroom. I heard her coming through the hall on her way to see me and called out to her.

"Back to bed." I said.

The pitter patter of her little footsteps came to a halt. She was still out of eyesight.

Then she called out to me in a whimper..."But daddy... I can't get to sleep because I am afraid of the dark!"

"Just close your eyes real tight. That way you won't be able to see the dark."

Then a faint "okay daddy" and little pitter patter of feet up back through the hall and up the stairs.

She's fast asleep now. I think I'm starting to get the hang of this parenting thing.

Afraid Of The Dark

Trumps' Chumps

I love to watch The Apprentice. Not for the Donald, but for the way it makes me and my colleagues look good.

The assignments that the Donald hands out are a daily occurrence in our field. I am in advertising. Got a new product and need to get the word out? We do that. Got an old product with declining sales? We can help there too. Need to find the sweet spot for your product? Need to design packaging? Billboard? TV spot? On site event? Web site? Email? In store display? Yup... We do all that.

Where we differ from the contestants on the show is that we actually take a very clear, concise approach to solving the problem. It starts with asking a better question. Don't just tackle the assignment, ask and debate if the assignment is the right one. Then determine if it is a communication problem. If it isn't, then advertising probably cannot help. It might be operational.

After asking the better question we then gather insight. This is where we dig for information, anything at all, that will lead to that key detail or insight that provides the vehicle for developing the big idea and messaging. But the big idea and messaging do not live alone. They go hand in hand with finding the right, relevant point where the brand and product message can engage the consumer and make meaningful resonation. It's about connecting, not just reaching.

It's about approaching a communication opportunity as media neutral. It's about being opened minded and allowing us to look at a medium and find new ways to manipulate it to break through. It's about believing there are new ways to use old mediums. It's about finding the right new mediums to connect.

I know it's not a realistic situation, but I doubt the Donald ever starts by asking the contestants to spend time assessing the real issue at hand. Somehow he and Mark Burnett pair down the list of things that they think the contestants can handle within a given time frame. More likely they think of an assignment that will present a challenge.

It makes me cringe to watch these so called cream of the crop, wheeler dealer, "gunners" sit around a table and ramble on about what they should do. It's a bunch of back and forth, time wasting babbling. Can they not find a contestant who has ever, EVER conducted a real brainstorming session? These guys and gals do not know the first thing about addressing a problem - at least that is what the show portrays.

I suppose I should give them some slack. Maybe they do challenge the assignment, maybe they do 100 MPH thinking or "Be Like Mike" brainstorming to solve the problem at hand. Maybe. But then again, maybe I should leave well enough alone. After all anyone who watches the show and sees how difficult it really is to successfully complete the assignment might just get it in their head that this is something better left to the professionals.

So I like watching The Apprentice because it makes me feel good about the business I am in. It gives me validation. It almost makes up for the frustration I get watching these contestants and their extreme lack of emotional intelligence and teamwork.

Almost.

Trumps' Chumps

Home School For Hannah

Mary got a call from Hannah's school yesterday. The director of the Montesorri program wanted to check in with us to see if Hannah was going to be attending the summer session. We had planned on her attending and had filled out the paper work already. We thought we had submitted it earlier in the week to save a spot.

When Mary told the director of our plans she said "I thought you were planning on it, but Hannah told her teacher that she wasn't going to be coming back. She said that 'Mommy is going to home school me from now on.'"

That came as a bit of a surprise to the director. It was a surprise for me too.

Apparently Hannah had it all figured out and shared her plan with her teacher. "Mommy is going to get fired from her job and I am going to get kicked out of school. That way Mommy and I will be together so she can home school me."

I think Mary and Hannah might need to find some time to talk about this.

Home School For Hannah

Painting Jason Wagener

Every artist has a thing. It's a theme, color palette, material. Some artists are well known because they were groundbreaking, controversial or prolific creators of art. Some where known while they were alive. Others became famous after their death. Regardless of fame, live or dead, canvas, film, wire or clay within all artists there is something that causes the need to create.

I often wonder what it is like when other artists have there first purposeful creative experience. What is going on in their life when they make a decision to create a work of art that has deep purposeful meaning? What is the impetus? What was their first attempt like? Did they like it? Did they keep it?

What was Van Gogh's first work of art? Was it a doodle? Was it something he did at school? Maybe paper mache? A clay cup or saucer for his mom? What was it?

What about Jackson Pollack? Rembrandt? Dali? Magritte? Di Chirico? O'Keefe? Picasso? Cezanne? Matisse or Monet? What was the material they used for their first painting? These are questions I ponder, for I know what my first canvas was. It was my back yard neighbor, Jason Wagener.

One afternoon Jason came over to play. My mom had recently hurt her back and was resting either on the couch or up in bed while Jason and I played together. We were pretty good buddies and behaved fairly well for a four and five year old, so mom didn't worry when we headed out of sight to the basement to play.

I have no idea how much time passed, but sometime during the afternoon my mom woke from her nap by Jason who appeared in front of her sniffling in a sad, scared voice "Mrs. D-d-duff.... D-d-d-dannnnny, p-p-painted m-me!"

It was true. Both Jason's arms and legs were covered in paint. And not just any paint. This was the good stuff. It was an enamel based paint we used to cover our front porch, and it was a deep forest green.

My mom quickly realized that there were two issues that needed immediate attention. Not reprimanding me for painting a playmate - that would come later. No, what mom realized was that the paint that was covering Jason needed to be removed immediately AND since the paint was on Jason and he was standing on the brand new carpeting that had just been installed on the entire first floor of the house, that he needed to be removed as well. So mom, bad back and all, picked up Jason, holding him at arm's length and rushed him to the sink so she could start scrubbing him clean.

As a parent myself I now imagine the fear that my mother had about how Jason's mom would react when she saw her green stained son. Nobody could blame even the nicest, most understanding mom for being upset that another parent let their child get covered in thick enamel porch paint.

I do not recall if I was punished or not. I only know that my family brings up the story often at family gatherings. My mom focuses on how she reacted to Jason standing covered in paint on the new carpet. My siblings however choose to focus on how that event hurt mom's back to an extent that we had to cancel a planned family trip to Hawaii.

I tend to focus on the fact that no one was seriously injured or maimed and that one day when I become a famous artist that Jason Wagner will come out of seclusion and lay claim to being the first canvas that Dan Duff ever put paint on.

I wonder what Jason's favorite color is? Mine as it turns out, is green.

Painting Jason Wagener

Grounded at Wrigley Field

Lately I've been listening to sports radio quite a bit. We are in the midst of spring training for Major League Baseball so it is the current hot topic. The gossip today was about Barry Bonds and a new book coming out that will apparently reveal details about his use of performance enhancing drugs. Sports Illustrated will have excerpts from the book, which of course will spur more speculation/accusations and result in sales of this book.

I am on the side that believes anyone who cheats is a cheater and anyone who breaks the law is a criminal. And anyone who does either in professional sports should not be invited into that sports hall of fame. Unfortunately I believe that cheating will continue to happen and athletes will continue to find new ways of avoiding detection.

With all the negative talk about going on today I'd like to take a moment to look at the real soul of baseball. What it is all about...

--------

One of my best friends is John Stutz. We met on our first day of first grade and became friends.

During the summer between seventh and eighth grade we spent most of our time goofing off either at the beach or going to Cubs games. We were both die hard Cub fans. Still are.

I don't remember what he did, but one day I called John to make plans to go to Wrigley to see the Cubs play only to find out that he had been grounded. Though both of his parents were out he was told not to leave the house until they got home from work. They wouldn't really know if he left the house, but trusted him to do as told. So of course we went to the game.

We figured we would keep a close eye on the clock and be able to get back to his house before either his mom or dad got home. The game started at 1:05 pm. If the game went quickly we could stay and watch the whole game. If it dragged on we agreed that we would have to leave before the end in order to get John home on time.

We called Tom Graziano to see if he wanted to go with us. He was in.

We hopped on the "L" at the end of the line in Wilmette, changed trains at the Howard stop and got to the park in plenty of time to get first row seats in the right field bleachers. We were there for batting practice.

During BP Leon Durham, aka "The Bull" cranked out a few shots into the right field bleachers. A few came close by, but not close enough that we could participate in the scramble to grab the loose balls. We settled into our seats confident that should a home run be hit our way we would be close enough to maybe snag the ball.

It was a good game. At the start of the bottom of the eighth inning the cubs were down a run. With a runner on base The Bull stepped up to the plate. We were ready. Sitting from right to left, smallest to tallest in the first row of the right field bleachers was Tom, me and John. We were ready.

On the third pitch The Bull smacked a deep drive right at us. It was going to be a home run and it was coming exactly to where we were sitting. Actually it was going straight at Tom. He stood up, got his hands in the air in anticipation of catching the ball. He had a huge smile on his face. This was his ball!

But this was a home run ball. No rules apply here. It's anyone's ball! I leaned over a bit to move Tom aside. This was going to be mine!

John was not to be outdone. He leaned over on me to move me AND Tom out of the way. But just as the ball was about to land in his hands John lost his balance and ended up tripping us all up. John reached back for the ball as he fell on me and Tom. We would up in a piled up heap on the guy sitting next to Tom, just as the ball swooshed by. We missed it!

The guy right behind us got the ball! Tom gave me grief for pushing him, I passed that on to John for shoving me but John was really upset for two reasons. First because he tripped and missed the ball. Second because he realized that we had to have been on TV as Leon Durham's home run would be on the game highlight reel.

The Cubs ended up winning. As soon as the game was over we jumped on the first train back up North. We gave each other a lot of ribbing on the way home for missing the ball. It was all good. I remember John being a little nervous about the time. We had to get back to his house asap before his folks got home.

Thankfully we all lived within a few blocks of the "L". Tom headed home while John and I cruised over to his house. We got there in plenty of time. Now it was a matter of making sure his dad did not catch the highlights. And of course as soon as he got home, John's dad sat down in the TV room to catch the game highlights. This got tricky.

As planned as soon as the game highlights came on John and I stood up in front of the TV set to block the view. I have no idea what we said or what rationale we used for standing in front of the TV. I only know that as John stood there babbling something to distract his dad, I turned and caught a glimpse of the TV screen. There we were. Three bumbling fools tripping over each other to catch the ball, only to end up missing it completely. Our fifteen minutes of fame and we couldn't even share it with our parents.

Thankfully John didn't do anything to get grounded again that summer. We went to lots of games, but never caught a home run ball. Still haven't ever caught one.

But that summer and the home run fiasco was a good time. We had a ball anyway.

I don't know if Leon Durham took performing enhancing drugs to hit more home runs or if the ball was "juiced" that year either. What I do know is that baseball is more than a game. It is more than the players. It is more than the statistics.

Whether it is a game of catch in the backyard, stickball in the street, little league or big league games, baseball is and always has been about spending time with friends. I cannot wait for opening day.

Grounded at Wrigley Field