George's Last Day

George Edwards came to work with us for a few months. We needed someone for a contract gig to help us build content for our 3-D library and it just so happened that George had completed a computer animation degree and was looking for work in the States.

Though George is American, he has British parents and lived from 12 on in Coventry...so we've spent a lot of time asking him things like, "Do you watch Keeping Up Appearances?" or "Do you guys actually think Benny Hill is funny?" or "Does it freak you out that we drive on the right side of the road?" We also threw in a "Good one with Eddie Izzard."

Often on Friday afternoons we wind up at Los Lupes.

The food is tasty and affordable. (Tableside guacamole is sooooooo delicious.) And they have really good margaritas. HOWEVER, I do have to point out that Nancy-the-Insightful is totally twisted in that she orders FRENCH FRIES!

I should also point out that since it was George's last day, Jason Foster and David Stephens joined us tonight. (Jason didn't order French fries, but he does speak fake French. Excuse me make that faux French.)


It was a short-term gig, so we didn't get to keep him, but George has promised not to disappear completely.

Even so,it won't be the same when he isn't here every day.

----------------------------------------

Note to George: As I was leaving the parking lot tonight, I saw this bumper sticker and completely cracked up. I absolutely HAD to take a photo of it since you would particularly appreciate it.

Creating a Culture of Innovation

I've learned a lot about the culture of innovation from Craig Janssen. Many years ago, when an employee made a mistake on a project, Craig called us all together in the conference room, explained the problem with the project and asked us all to roll up our sleeves and figure out how to fix it. Interestingly, he never identified the consultant who made the mistake. He was completely solution-oriented.

It was a profound learning experience for me.

Innovation doesn't happen in a world where people aren't allowed to make mistakes. In fact, risk aversion may be the greatest ally of the status quo.

I'm not sure most people with risk-averse culture set out to make it happen this way. But, it is a rule that not everything tried works, and everything that doesn't work is a failure. And when people are belittled for their failures, they tend not to repeat the experience. (Or, they say "rain on you" and move on.)

Another component to this culture of innovation comes about in what you measure.

In our industry most keep timesheets. Billing, employee reviews, determinations of whether or not projects are profitable--all of this is measured on a weekly basis in hours. Janssen broke the rules when he set up his company and didn't ask people to keep timessheets.

This decision had unexpected results. Ben Cating on our team developed some pretty innovative automation software that wound up making everyone in our office more efficient. However, if project hours had determined his profitability, he wouldn't have spent the time developing the software that wound up making everyone more profitable. (As a side note, Ben's innovation sparked other's on our team to develop a whole host of tools that we use in house.)

I've found this measurement component plays out in the marketing world as well. My success is measured over a long view giving me the breathing room to develop pipelines of work that are largely relational. If I was measured in terms of the leads I collected and followed up on, I wouldn't invest in the slow process of building relationships. I'd be a hit woman. (Many sales teams I know are on this treadmill, but they didn't create the structure that keeps them there.)

As I was considering all of this, it occurred to me that there was likely a macro theme at work that connected the idea of allowing people to make mistakes and in what was measured. (In fact, I actually started this post weeks ago, but never finished it because the two paths seemed like unrelated thoughts.)

Then, I came across Stephen Covey's book Speed of Trust and stumbled onto the macro thought...

Simply put, trust means confidence. The opposite of trust--distrust--is suspicion. When you trust people, you have confidence in them--in their integrity and their abilities. When you distrust people, you are suspicious of them--of their integrity, their agenda, their capabilities or their track record.

Without trust, you can't ignore blame and stay solution-oriented. Without trust, you have to measure to keep people honest.

So maybe the real key to creating a culture of innovation, is in surrounding yourself with people you can trust. In that kind of environment innovation doesn't have to be prompted. It just happens.

Calling the Lurkers to Come out and Play

It's that time again....calling the lurkers to come out and play. The question is: If you could have any super power at all, what would it be?

For me, it would have to be flying. No, it wouldn't save the world or anything, but it would be really, really fun.

Okay lurkers. What would it be? The comment button is right there. You know you want to!

Oscar Party

Amanda Sherred (top center) hosted an Oscar party tonight.

I have to confess, I'm not a big Oscar follower (because typically the awards are for movies I've never heard of before) so I mostly just went for the wine and the company.

Kerry Rose (right) was there, who unbeknownst to her was actually the reason I started blogging. She got me hooked on Supermom's blog (aka Melany in South Africa) and I started Random Cathy not too long after that.

Amanda is great at throwing parties. We were greeted by a red carpet when we entered the door and we wound up playing movie trivia during commercials.

On the red carpet, Amanda set up a photo op. We took turns mimicking the poses we've all seen. And Amanda totally had the "dress" pose down that all the actresses seem to do for maximum sveltness. To see our red carpet poses, click here.

I'm not sure why we started doing these "Ladies of AD" events, except that we do two family events during the year and us women who work there want to see the wives of the men we work with more often than twice a year. All of us comment on how uncommon it is for that many cool people to wind up in one place.

So, as you might have guessed. None of this was about the Oscars at all. Hmmm....I wonder what our next opportunity could be.... How many days until Cinco de Mayo?

Running on empty...

I noticed tonight that I haven't blogged very much in the past few weeks. Maybe it is because I am running on empty.

Once at an artist conference John and I attended, the speaker said something I've found to be very true. He said that artists need certain things to keep the creative spark inside alive. If too many things drain the tank, the creative spark dies and it can take a lot to get it back.

After a discouraging conference, a week of being sick, and multiple draining encounters at work, I find I'm completely empty. Two migraines two days in a row and a blood pressure reading off the charts sealed the deal. I went to the doctor today. He didn't write me a prescription. He gave me advice.

The advice mirrored the man at the artists conference. You can't keep giving out without putting back in. Somehow in the course of your days, encouragement has to outweigh the discouragement.

The thing is--though you can control the amount of positive energy you put into other people's buckets--you can't always control who takes from yours. But you can control who you give access to.

My goal over the next three days is to spend time with the most energy-generating people I know doing things that feed my soul. As a deposit on that, John brought me an armful of pink roses and Toby--my little sheltie--snuggled me as I laid in a dark room waiting for the migraine to fade.

One thing is certain. I can't continue to operate in deficit mode. My body won't let me.

The power of a children's book...

When I was fourteen, I discovered the Chronicles of Narnia.

The best part of them for me had nothing to do with the fact I discovered a series of great books. The best part was that in the character of Aslan, I felt like I was reading for the first time about the God I knew. (Sadly, there was often discrepency in my Christian education between the God I was taught about--the one waiting to zap me--and the God I knew in my heart really, truly existed.)

About a month ago, I asked John if he would read to Bethany and I each evening before we go to bed. Sort of a grown up bedtime story. We finished Prince Caspian last night and put Voyage of the Dawn Treader on the night stand to begin tonight.

I so appreciate John taking the time to do this. (Not that the writers strike has given us better alternatives.) It's a magical 20 minutes cuddled in our bed with our teenager reading about a world of heroism and self-sacrifice. A world largely reflective of our world, but with talking animals and magical creatures.

At one point last night, our own magical creature, Toby, leapt into the middle of us right on cue and acted out a small part of the story.

Maybe Narnia is closer than we imagined.

Oh No! Cosmic Cafe!

John and I went to see the Spiderwick Chronicles and then planned to have a late dinner at the Cosmic Cafe. Most people who know me are aware that this is my favorite restaurant in Dallas. In fact, the murals on this blog are photos of the exterior wall there.

But as we pulled up to the restaurant, we found it completely dark and blocked off. An internet search when we returned home revealed that there was a fire just last weekend. For photos of the blaze, check out JR Compton's blog.

May cause random side effects...

Okay, you know those commercials for pharmaceuticals where they tell you the fine print out loud and it sounds absolutely horrible? (ie. may cause spontaneous bleeding from the eyes). Well, that actually happened to me today. (Not the bleeding from the eyes thing. That was added for comic effect.)

The doctor gave me a sample of the antibiotic so I could get started on it right away. I dropped off the prescription, went home, ate lunch, took the sample pill, then lay down for a nap. (Because getting up, getting dressed, getting to the doctor, and going to Walgreens was more than I'd been able to pull off in 3 days.) I was drifting off to an exhausted sleep when a powerful wave of seasickness woke me up. Seriously.

I was dizzy. I was nauseated. And I was shaking. Terribly. I couldn't figure out what was wrong. All of this completely different to the symptoms that had taken me down for three days.

It occurred to me as the bed rolled across the stormy waves that I had taken a drug and that drugs can have side effects, so, I staggered into John's office for online research. I typed in the name of the drug with the word "side effects" and there it was in black and white. May cause dizziness, nausea, shaking...

I feel I should mention the list went on and included possible hallucinations and spontaneous bleeding from the eyes (Okay, just kidding again with the eyes thing) which leaves me wondering....HOW IS THIS BETTER THAN BEING SICK?

As much as drugs can improve life for people with chronic conditions, (I mentioned just last post how much the gift of an inhaler changed mine) they also come with associated baggage. (The reason for the audible fine print in the television commercials.)

The reality is that body chemistry is a pretty delicate thing and altering it with other chemicals isn't an exact science. And until it is, it is keeping comedians like Jeff Foxworthy in business (from whom I stole the "spontaneous bleeding from the eyes" bit.)

Sometimes I forget...

When I was a little girl growing up in Fort Worth in the mid-70's I spent a lot of time at Cook's Children's Hospital. The asthma drugs back then weren't as good as they are now and I typically had two to three hospitalizations a year.

It's funny what you remember from childhood. I don't have any recollection of the collapsed lung or coma that my mom has told me about, but I do remember that there was a room at the hospital behind glass with Laura Cook's piano and furnishings from another era. I remember the oxygen tent giving me the feeling of being under glass and a couple of the nursing staff that were particularly nice. Their faces are frozen in time in my memory.

I also remember the large green oxygen tank that I had in my room growing up that was chained to the wall and behind my dresser so that I couldn't knock it over when playing. (Dad told me if it fell it could go through the house like a torpedo and I spent a lot of nights looking at its intimidating shadow in the dark thinking on that.)

Once on a ski trip with my youth group in high school, I had a terrible attack and we were far from any help. A doctor on the trip who was also asthmatic shared his inhaler and it literally changed my life.

The thing is that most of the time I take my daily puffs of Advair and forget I even have the disease. But, spend time near latent cigarette smoke on clothes, cars, or furniture; hit a string of bad ozone days (of which Dallas has a lot) or spend too much time on an airplane, and my lungs remind me of their limited capacity.

So here I am on day three of being in bed struggling to breathe trying hard to focus on how little the disease impacts me these days, and reminding myself that my lungs will clear and all will be right again.

If only they would hurry up.

It happens every time...

Arrgh! I'm sick. Again.

It seems that everytime I get on an airplane I get sick. The whole athsma thing means that it winds up in my lungs and I feel miserable.

I've tried to outsmart this. In fact, on this trip I took copious amounts of Vitamin C; yet, here I am running fever and generally feeling awful.

And, yes, the irony of my last two alternative heath posts are not lost on me.

Shut up.

Attack of the Killer Mutant Leeches

Troy and Rhonda (BIL/SIL) introduced us to the Pocket Sandwich Theatre back when we were in college.

Last night, we went with friends to see the Attack of the Killer Mutant Leeches. This is one of their melodramas which means that the audience cheers the hero and boos the villan. They also pass out popcorn which gets thrown at the actors...a lot. In fact, I believe the Dallas Observer called Pocket audiences "beer-guzzling, corn-flinging yahoos" which of course the Pocket promptly framed and put on their wall.

We all laughed...a lot. However, I have to say, John and Tom had an unfair advantage in the popcorn throwing since they sat just above us.

If you live near Dallas, going to a melodrama at the Pocket is an entertaining way to spend an evening. The theatre is located at Mockingbird and 75.

But if you want to see Attack of the Killer Mutant Leeches you have to hurry. It ends its run next weekend.

The whole alternative medicine thing...

Many years ago, when we first moved to Carrollton, I dragged my mom and sister to a seminar at The Herb Shoppe.

After years of frustration in fighting my way through the medical system, the idea of having more control over my health appealed to me. I thought it would be useful to find herbs that could be used in treating my asthma.

However, that wasn't what I learned. The herbalist pointed out that my questions were looking at herbalism through a conventional medicine point of view. After all, if I had an ailment, I went to the doctor to find out which drug to take. I was looking at herbs the same way.

This woman--I wish I had written down her name--began to teach of how the body can heal itself. She said that Type II diabetes is likely caused by years of eating refined sugars and flours, and how the body isn't designed to process something that is already that broken down.

She said our body's first defense is sleep and made the correlation that when we start to get a cold or flu, we usually feel very tired, long before other symptoms kick in. She also mentioned how damaging it can be to take medicines to suppress the symptoms so we can keep working instead of allowing our bodies to rest and repair.)

All of this created a mindshift for me. After all, my genetics are a recipe for high blood pressure and diabetes (thanks mom and dad) and if I had a fighting chance to avoid it, I knew I needed a strategy. My study of herbal medicine led me into exploring lots of other alternative health methods. It definitely played a role in my decision to go vegetarian.

Today, Kathy-of-the-mom-bows sent me an e-mail about the signatures of whole foods. "The Doctrine of Signatures" in herbalism is that God gave men visual cues as to the uses for different plants as medicine. (For example, kidney beans are actually good for kidneys.) Until I got the e-mail, I had forgotten about it. It's sort of a beautiful concept.

If it interests you, I found the source of the e-mail online.

The whole vegan thing...

I picked up a bunch of vegan books over Christmas thinking it would simply help me get out of some of my vegetarian cooking ruts. But instead I found myself having to think about things I’d rather not.

Health considerations aside, I’m actually wrestling with ethical ones.

Mentally, I’ve always drawn a line between pets and livestock. But in living with dogs and sugar gliders and in feeding the birds, my perspective has changed. Our gliders actually love us. Lucky gets scared (storms) and Casey feels proud when John tells him what a fine dog he is. Toby…well Toby is pretty self-centered, but he does love to be near us and likes to play the game where we try to grab his toes. This isn’t us humanizing our pets. This is emotion and interaction they generate.

So what about other types of animals?

At the vegan restaurant a few weeks ago, Lynette and John had a conversation about the dehorning of cows and the castrating of goats. Please understand that I became vegetarian because of heath concerns…not over animal rights, but, what if those animals are closer to my pets in their experience of pain and emotion than I want to think about?

One of the books I picked up was Vegan Freak by Bob and Jenna Torres. I grabbed it to learn how to eat better when I travel, but instead it left me with knowledge that now I have to make a decision on.

I remember reading about Marie Antoinette in high school and thinking I could never be that ignorant about what it took to provide her lifestyle. But I’m sad to say, I’m there. I don’t think about the industry that provided me with my leather coat or the suffering of the animal that was raised to produce the product. I don’t think about the working conditions of the person whose hands made the shirt I’m wearing. I go to the store. I put stuff in my cart. I take it home and use it.

I always thought conscious-living was for hippy-dippy types and left-wing activists, but what if conscious-living is actually for me?

Going vegan can’t be easy. Animal products are in almost everything I use from cosmetics to shoes. Where would I even start? And what about John and Bethany? Would they be up for this? If they aren’t, could I do it without them?

(Thanks, Bob and Jenna.)

A Day with Dixa

Dixa and I were neighbors in Panama.

I remember the first time she came to my house. She knocked on my door and said "Que haces?" I pulled out my Spanish-English dictionary and asked confused, "What am I making?" We couldn't resolve the translation problem, both shrugged and Dixa left. Then she came back with her husband who helped us by serving as translator.

Over the next three years, my Spanish improved and Dixa learned English. Dixa showed me the beautiful world of Panama. She served as tour guide for Anna and I for culture, shopping, and day-to-day life. In fact, one of my favorite things was dropping by her apartment just before our husbands got home for the day and tasting whatever she was making.

One day, when I went over, the smell was heavenly. She lifted the lid on the pot and I saw a whole fish...head, tail and eyes looking at me, and I shook my head that I didn't want to try it. She asked, "Americans don't eat fish?"

I am very grateful that the conference didn't have exhibits on Sunday. I got to spend the day with Dixa who now lives with her husband in Jacksonville. After dropping Erin-the-Wonder-Woman off at the airport, I had an eight hour window before I had to pick up Nancy-the-Insightful.

Dixa has a beautiful home and an even more beautiful family. Her son, Eric, is 15 and is an artist and on the swim team. Duneska is an amazing dancer, plays clarinet, and is full of sparkle and energy. Gabriel Jose--called GJ--is about all things sports with soccer being his favorite.

Dixa made an amazing breakfast, and later lunch of wonderful Panamanian foods. And though I normally follow a vegetarian diet, I didn't today. Empanadas (AMAZING), ojedas, oatmeal with canela, bisteak, plantains...and my favorite. Dixa's incredible flan.

We hung out and talked. Played Wii. Jumped on the trampoline. And Duneshka taught me to play mancala--which turned out to be really fun.

It was a beautiful day, so we sat out on their porch--which Joe finished with beautiful tile and Dixa furnished with lovely things.

One of the things that I was struck by is how tight their family dynamic is. We all played games together. We talked together. The kids helped and interacted. As we sat there talking I realized the beauty of their home wasn't about the beautiful furnishings but about the warmth and love of their family.

Five pm rolled around way too quickly, and I rushed out to pick up Nancy.

After a quick stop on the way back to the hotel at Target to grab manicure supplies and a Mancala game of my very own. Nancy and I are enjoying a bit of pampering, the super bowl and the two pieces of flan Dixa packed. Of course, we had to MacGyver a fork out of a cup...but the flan is definitely worth it.

A Clever Branding Thing...

I tend to notice brands....A LOT.

Not only when I don't like them....like the billboard I passed today for a custom remodeling business.

This is my 60 second makeover. Because I couldn't help myself. (Yes, I know I burned precious moments on this. It was fun. Don't judge.)

In any case, this week, I'm staying at a Hampton Inn. The cool thing that I've noticed in the past couple of years about this part of the Hilton chain is there branding because it presents messages in a way that is easy for the traveler to process.

To explain, whenever I hit a hotel room, I'm tired. My mind is generally full of a zillion things regarding whatever it is I'm in that city to do, so it is difficult to process stuff like--which one of these is the shampoo bottle?

It's as if the Hampton Inn took the time to think about me in their communication and what I might need. As if they realized I didn't care if it was juniper scented. I just need to know which one is shampoo.

The new branding uses one-word labels for everything. If there is a block of text for explanation, it is small, with the labels bold and a larger font size than the rest of the text.

In addition to the text treatments, the organization was part of it, too. Like things are grouped with like with one-word labels to describe them.


For example, at breakfast, there were one word signs like "baked" or "cold" or "hot" to describe what types of food were grouped together.

The creative team for Crosspointe, met Tuesday night to discuss the "pure, fresh, simple" concept at it applies to the Crosspointe brand. It occurs to me that the Hampton Inn is good inspiration for that.

The Marketing Divas Dine Out

Erin "Wonder Woman" Brady and I are in Jacksonville together for a conference. After meeting each other at 5am and a long day that included a lying navigation system, booth set up, gift delivery, a successful search for a literature stand that would allow us to ditch the conference-provided table, and coffee with a very nice family from Charlotte, NC, we got to have a leisurely trip to the bookstore and a nice Korean dinner.

We tried barley tea. Which we both thought tasted a bit like tea made from Super Sugar Puffs without the sugar. (Remember that cereal with the Sugar Bear?)

I have to out Erin and let you know that the chopsticks in these photos are totally staged. (She used a fork the whole time.)

Taking blog photos isn't an exact science. This was my first attempt. (Erin is way prettier than this...see photo 1.)

And this photo--which made Erin laugh as she saw the preview. Her comment was that no one would ever believe that we weren't drinking if I posted this. (Hmmm....maybe there was more to the barley tea than a hint of breakfast cereal.)

Erin leaves Sunday morning to go back home to her two year old son, and Nancy will fly in Sunday night for the next shift. It is good to have help! Conferences are definitely a tag team effort.