Where I have been

Hope this entry finds everyone enjoying the holiday season.  For me, the holiday season starts with Halloween.  Emma's birthday is on November 7 with Thanksgiving quickly following. Then I brace myself for all of Emma's end of year activities. We observe Hanukkah in our home. Emma is now old enough to light the menorahs.

Every year I struggle with my latkes. I always feel supported knowing that Grandma Zuckerman in New York City is working tech support just in case the latkes won't stick together in the pan.  I must remember that there's lots of room for error with these potato pancakes.  I've discovered you can't really taste the latkes too much after you slather them with apple sauce and sour cream.  I like creating olfatory memories for Emma. I hope she will fondly remember the house and her mama smelling like fried potatoes and hot oil.

We celebrate Christmas at my mom's house.  This year my mom and aunt plan on making Bacalao (codfish with tomatoes, olives and chilies), a traditional Mexican Christmas dish.

I also have a personal anniversary tucked between Halloween and Emma's birthday.   It was two years ago when I first struggled into the doctor's office with severe pain in my abdomen. ( I was later diagnosed with stage 4 Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma.)   What a life transforming chapter in my life that was.

I have been in remission for almost two years now. I am low key about the diagnosis anniversary. In my mind, I acknowledge the date and move on.  The red leaves on the trees in Austin around this time of year remind me of the little things that I started to see when life seemed so fragile. I am thankful for health, family, friends and the color red -- not just on the anniversary of my diagnosis, but every day. (I recently painted one wall in my home office red.)

The new normal for me now also means returning to my professional life with renewed purpose, with little tolerance for things that don't contribute to what I think is important.  I think the cancer experience plus being in my mid 40's has helped me focus only on things I consider meaningful and enduring.

After finishing chemo treatments,  I returning to consulting (freelance research) and teaching at Texas State.  I wasn't as active on this blog as I no longer had cancer stories to tell. However, I was active in other online forums. I started a blog for my account planning class at Texas State.  (Account planning is essentially advertising research ---big idea strategy plus creative development).

In keeping with my "meaningful and enduring" criteria,  I teach account planning. Understanding the consumer's perspective helps copywriters and art directors create ads that are "good," meaning ads that respect the consumer and touch a universal, emotional cord. In addition, research is the first internal line of defense against stereotypical, offensive, and annoying ads. I teach advertising research because I want the next generation of creatives to make ads that are clever, insightful and truthful.

I realize that not all of my students will become account planners in advertising agencies, but my goal is that every student will leave my class with an appreciation for the importance of research in strategy.  The link between research and decision making applies to just about everything---advertising, marketing, management, public policy, career planning, etc.

Here is the the link to my account planning class blog.  I am more like an editor on the class blog as most of the content is student-generated.  Check out the YouTube research videos made by my students.

  I have also been active on Twitter. Frequent updates are much easier to maintain with a 140 character limit. I follow 249 people. I have 261 followers. I don't know most of these people. Many of them are advertising professionals from around the world (account planners, advertising agencies, copywriters, art directors, creative directors, research firms, media planners, advertising schools, advertising clubs, professors, advertising headhunters, even Mad Men impersonators).  Unlike this personal blog, my "tweets" on Twitter are either about strategic planning or teaching. Like Linked in, I use Twitter as a professional forum.

Here is the picture associated with my Twitter account. I am still love those red lipped styrofoam heads from my wig shopping days.

This is life

 
David recently emailed me a link to a short video called, "The Years are Short."  He kept asking if I had had the time to watch it. I kept telling him I was too busy.

The other night, I finally sat down with him at my side and I watched it. I was moved. David told me he even teared up a bit the first time he saw the video (which is saying a lot).

What makes this little PowerPoint presentation so good? How does it manage to pack such a powerful punch in such a soft, gentle way?

I often ask my advertising students to deconstruct television ads from a communication perspective, that is to notice each individual element of the piece: the copy (words), the images, the pacing, the music. These same communication techniques are found in this little video.

Watch the video first as you normally would watch any video. Then watch it again with an eye for all of the elements that are used to tell the story.

The Years are Short

This is why I think this video "works."

The images in the presentation are every day pictures ....streets, people, dogs, buses, shoes, hands, sidewalks.  Yes, the images are from New York City, but they are pictures that could be any city USA. We never actually see a face of a person, which makes it easier to place our own faces and those we love into the scenes.

The emotion of the piece is set by the music, a piano solo played in a minor key. The rhythm is slow and deliberate. At several points, the piano even stops for a second and then surges into the next phrase. The music takes the viewer to that odd place where feeling sad actually feels good.

With the images and music setting the emotional stage, the words then tell the story.  It is my story and your story---a story that any parent could tell.  It is the universal story of living too fast to see the ephemeral quality of life.  All parents can remember a time when a child points to the simple and ordinary. "Look, a dog!" the child says and we see the world through their eyes. These moments happen fast with no opportunity to hit the pause or rewind button. The best we can do is play this video over and over again to remind us how precious these years are.

A note about the interplay of words, music and images.  The words in the PowerPoint accompany the music like the voice of singer. We see one sentence. Pause. The singer takes a breath. Then we see the next sentence. We sit with the images and words until the music cues the next slide. The video is 2 minutes of carefully paced reflection. I am a sucker for all of this.  I feel a lump of emotion build inside me every time I see this video.

I don't take Emma to school on a bus, but I do pick her up in our car 3 out 5 days of the week.  When it's 2:30 in the afternoon and nothing is crossed off my  "to do" list, I often get ready to pick up Emma in a haze of frustration.

Recently, Emma asked to go to the park after school. At the park, Emma asked me to swing with her. I decided I would show Emma a trick out my own childhood playbook.  I sat in a swing and told her to straddle me. Now facing each other,  I started to pump my legs.  I pumped higher and higher and higher until the swing takes a little bounce and my heart starts to hurt. I remember the split second of terror when my 40-something bottom feels like it is going to fall out of the swing. I feel my body tensing up, telling me I am swinging too high, but I love the exhilaration of being out of control. I am a child again, now playing with my own child.

At the end of our playground time, Emma looks at me with excited eyes and asks, "That was fun. Can we do it again, please, tomorrow?" I bend over, hold her face in my hands, look into her eyes and say,  "Of course, sweet baby girl, of course."

This is my version of the "Years are Short" video. Given that Emma is 8, I am not sure how much longer Emma will want to swing on her mama's lap, In my struggle to balance my professional life with motherhood, I must remember that afternoons in the park with Emma are numbered.

So seemingly, just the other day, in November of 2001, I took this picture of Emma, a beautiful, cherub of a baby. Thank goodness I have pictures and video, because I have actually forgotten Emma as a baby.

Now, this is the 8-year old version of Emma in 2009 in her jazz dance pants and leotard. Emma, a sweet, happy, social butterfly of a child.

What will this child be like in 8 more years. I don't know how 16-year old girls are like anymore. In 2017, Emma will remind me, but by then I will have forgotten the 8-year old Emma.

You are my I Love You

I have recently come to appreciate children's literature.  I enjoy the illustrations in the books as much as the words.

One of my favorite children's books is called "You are my I Love You" written by Maryann K. Cusimano (illustrated by Satomi Ichikawa. Published by Philomel Books, New York.)

I love the pace of the language, the parallel structure of the sentences and the profound meaning in the simple phrases.  The water colors are equally simple but full of warmth and emotion.   Below are several phrases and illustrations from the book followed by my own version at the end of this post.

YOUR ARE MY I LOVE YOU by Maryann K. Cusimano

I am your parent; you are my child.

I am your quiet place; you are my wild.

I am your calm face; you are my giggle.

I am your wait; you are my wiggle.

I am your audience; you are my clown.

I am your London Bridge; you are my falling down.

I am your open arms; you are my running leap.

I am your way home; you are my new path.

I am your dry towel; you are my wet bath.



I am your bedtime; you are my wide awake.

I am your finish line; you are my race.

I am your good-night kiss; you are my I love you.


I was so moved by this book, that I was inspired to write my own version using the same repeating sentence structure.

Gigi's Version

I am your parent; you are my child.

I am your eat your vegetables; you are my can we have ice cream.

I am the start of your after-school play date; you are the end of my work-day.

I am your social secretary;  you are my social butterfly.

I am your hair color, skin tone and eyebrows;  you are my hair color, skin tone and eyebrows.

I am your cheekie; you are my pooka.

I am your role model; you are my hope and dream.

I am your driver; you are my passenger.

I am your photographer; you are my subject.

I am your dress buyer;  you are my canvas.

I am your childhood 1.0; you are my childhood 2.0.

I am your hurry, hurry, hurry; you are my slow, slow, slow.

I am your long days;  you are my short years.

I am your tired and overwhelmed parent;  you are my caring and comforting child.

The Electric Company

About a year ago, Emma started watching The Electric Company. I am not sure how she first got started, but Emma was immediately smitten with the show (um, so was I).    New episodes would air on Fridays.  She would look forward to the new episode as soon as she finished watching the Friday show.  During the week, she would request to watch older episodes which were saved on the DVR. When we discovered that PBS posted all of the episodes on their website, Emma started watching the The Electric Company on the Internet. We have a "one show a day policy." She used all of her TV show time to watch old episodes of The Electric Company.

The Electric Company was a popular children's show in the 1970's. As I remember, it was faster moving version of Sesame Street targeted to older kids.  For what ever reason, I never watched The Electric Company very much when I was growing up. Perhaps the show just came on at an odd time.

 I do remember that The Electric Company, like Sesame Street, was a peek into a world very different from my world as a kid.  Both shows had diversity -- Hispanics, African-Americans, Asians. I didn't call it diversity. I just knew that the people on these shows looked different than most of the people in my world on the rural plains of Eastern Colorado. I was both curious and fascinated by the seemly happy mix of people.

Now PBS has created a new version of The Electric Company.  The approach of the show is the same--music, dance, celebrity visits and animation to teach the basics of phonics. The current show still has the same iconic elements from the 70's version (i.e. the "Hey you guys" call to action and the blending of words by the silhouetted face people). But now the show has been updated to include elements from popular culture that resonate with the kids of today.  This means PBS added hip-hop and beatbox, plus slick music videos and a story to entertain the audience into learning basic phonics.

Here are some of our favorite clips from the show. Let's start with the show's opening sequence.  Each of the characters have a special multi-media super power to help them with words and reading.  The show is filmed on the diverse streets of the Bronx in New York City.

ELECTRIC COMPANY INTRODUCTION




Below is Emma's favorite music video from the show.  I often look across the living room as I am cooking dinner to see Emma dancing and singing along to this video. The video is about Electric City, a place "where you can be anything you wanna be."  After the show is over, Emma frequently gets a worm in her ear and repeats the "two steps to the left electric, two steps to the right electic" part over and over and over again.

WYCLEF JEAN SINGS 'ELECTRIC CITY'





Now here is my favorite video. (I actually have lots of favorite videos. It was a hard choice.) Bless the woman that gave birth to the PBS writer that came up with the idea of mixing classic Bollywood dance ensemble choreography and 70's hippy hair/clothing together with a catchy song to teach word decoding word strategies.

After watching this dance video,  you might want to do the "Slide and Drop" dance at home. Here is the link to the YouTube 'Slide and Drop" Instructional dance video .

DO THE 'SLIDE AND DROP'




I am fascinated how The Electric Company uses fun, memorable song and dance to teach rather dry and tedius spelling rules.  (I often think I should take a page from the Electric Company's teaching pedagogy and burst into song and dance myself when I stand in front of my own classroom of college students.)

To demonstrate The Electric Company's teaching method, let me show how they approach one concept from a phonics curriculum: R-controlled vowels.  Here is the R-controlled vowels phonics rule:

R controlled vowels occur when an "r" changes the way the preceding vowel is pronounced. R-influenced vowels are neither long or short. When vowels follow the "r", the sound is blended with "r" to form a new special sound (or phoneme) as in car, fern, bird, fork, spur.

Appropriately, The Electric Company calls this rule, 'Bossy R.' The rule is illustrated in four unique, entertaining ways during "curriculum commercial breaks." I have posted all four below.


Annie's Prankster Cam's approach is the most straight forward.

PRANKSTER CAM:  ANNIE'S 'BOSSY R'




This is how the 'Bossy R' rule is interpreted by show's resident beatboxer, Shock and his guest beatbox partner, Lin-Manuel Miranda.

'BOSSY R' BEATBOX 




Now for the classic back and forth interaction of the face people doing their take on the 'Bossy R.'

'BOSSY R' SILHOUETTE BLENDS

This is the version of the 'Bossy R' that Emma and I like the best. Emma refers to it as the one with the dancing mommy and daughter.

'BOSSY R' DANCE VIDEO 



Thanks to Beth for the prompt regarding The Electric Company. (See comment on previous blog entry).

The Daddy

I once read in a magazine article about Bill Gates and his passion for board games.  As I remember from the piece, Bill grew up in a home that relished the spirit of competition.  The play was serious and winning was important. Bill continued his love of mentally challenging games with Paul Allen and Steve Ballmer, buddies from high school and college.   The article said Gates  was especially fond of the game of  Risk.

I remember reading this article and thinking how Bill Gates and his family and friends seemed so different from me.  I don't like games. I didn't grow up with games. I didn't have friends who like games. Then I met David.

To say the least, David didn't marry me because I share his interest in board games. Apparently no one else in David's family liked playing games with him either.  I guess they got tired of always losing to David too.

Fortunately, David's interest in solving problems and puzzles has led to his academic research in the area of  randomness and computation.  Here is an essay David wrote for a general audience called, "Can Random Coin Flips Speed Up a Computer?"

Recently, David showed Emma this new game, RoboZZle.  This blog discusses RoboZZle, a robot programming game that demonstrates the essential elements of algorithms used to solve complex problems. Emma seems to like playing this game almost as much as watching episodes of Electric Company.

After receiving my "Most Important Thing About Mom" book last May, Emma and I thought that it would be only fair for Emma to create a similar tribute for the "The Daddy Pataddy" (as we like like to call him).  Emma wrote this lovely poem for her daddy which she gave to David on Father's Day.

It seems as if Emma gave her daddy the ultimate Father's Day gift, the gift that he always wanted but could never get from his family: an always-eager game partner.

Here is David's game of Risk. Note the heavy wear and tear on the box.

Cookies and Cuddles

This drawing is how Emma thought I looked last Spring when my hair was still very short.  (According to Emma, I seem to have some facial hair.  Perhaps just some artistic rendering on Emma's part.)

This drawing and Emma's essay titled "Mom" are part of a collection of essays and drawings made by Emma's first grade classmates last spring.  All of the drawing and pictures about their mothers were bound in a book called The Important Thing About my Mom. The children gave the book to their mothers as a Mother's Day present.

It is funny and interesting to read what each child wrote as the most important thing about mom.  This collection of essays could almost be a little study into the perceptions 6 year old children toward their mothers.  Here are some informal observations on my part.

1.  Almost all of the children wrote that the making of food, especially desserts and breads, was the most important thing about mom. If mom didn't fix these treats, then mom took the child to a bakery or restaurant to get these yummy foods.  The list of wonderful things that the children say we make or buy for our kids is mouth watering: strawberry bread, banana bread, fudge cookies, banana splits, fancy desserts, smoothies, Krispy Cream donuts, sugar cookies, chocolate shakes at McDonald's, cookies at Russell's Bakery.

Emma wrote that she makes cookies with me.  The reality is that we rarely make cookies.  While I do think food (especially sweet, warm things) and mom are often linked, I suspect that the teacher might have used cooking/baking as an example and all the children used food as one of the important things about mom.   Alternatively, perhaps some children talked about what they were writing in their essays and others copied (as 6 years tend to do). This might explain why 5 of of the 20 children said the most important thing was that mom "made breakfast for dinner."  

2. The other important area about mothers was the love. Many children wrote "she takes care of me" or "she loves me." Emma and many others wrote, "she cuddles with me."  Only Emma wrote that her mom  carries her around and says "flying monkey."   Actually I say flying monkey with an odd exaggerated accent "flying mooonkey."  When Emma was a little baby and even a toddler, I would hold her out with my extended arms so she looked like she was flying in the air. Emma would hold her arms out like an airplane and  squeal in delight as I swished her around the house. My arms are not strong enough to hold her like that now.  But I do still love to cuddle. We always have "cuddle time," usually when she comes home from school.

3.  Some children mentioned their mom's profession (teacher, architect, writer, lawyer, etc.). Two children said the most important thing about mom was that she was a marathon runner (an accomplishment indeed).

Beyond Emma's essay, my favorite essay was the one written by a child who said the most important thing about mom was that "she had style." The child explained, "She has nice shiny make-up. She has curly hair." 

Here is Emma's essay titled "Mom." 

Emma's Just and Sustainable World

More catch up...

During last year's election, I was very impressed with the level of political of awareness of first graders. Emma talked about the election and knew the candidates. In May, at the end of the school year, Emma came home with a backpack full of journals and artwork that she had completed throughout the year. In those school papers, I came across some of her journal entires and drawings, many of them about politics and the world around her. Here is a sampling of her work.




The line about making sure no one gets sick is touching and telling.

Hello Again

Hello. It's me. Even though my posts have become infrequent, my real time life continues to move along nicely. Emma is in 2nd grade. We are in the middle of landscaping our front and back lawns. I am teaching at Texas State and and working on some research projects. David and I are taking West Coast Swing classes again on Wednesday nights and loving it. Last week I learned a few new ways to do an anchor step.

My chemo treatments that I endured now almost two years ago just keep on giving. I found out this week that all of my cavities that keep popping up are the result of the chemo. Weakened tooth enamel: another small price to pay for remission. Ever the pragmatist, David always says "think of the alternative" when things like this come up regarding my post-chemo side effects.

Let me do some catch up. Here's some of Emma's artwork from 1st grade. I like the color and composition of these pieces.

Emma's world

In Emma's world, the colors are bright.  A big, bright yellow sun always shares the sky with a rainbow and just a few clouds.  Flowers vary. Sometimes her world is filled with colorful tulips; other times, bluebonnets. In this picture, she added a picnic blanket, cherries and diamond. She now colors in the background of her art.   In this piece, the background is pink, of course.  

Bold simplicity

I recently traveled to San Francisco to conduct focus groups for a consumer electronics company.  The topic of the groups was design.  The client did not want feedback on the technology behind the product; rather they wanted opinions on how the device looked: balance, contrast, color, unity, etc.  Oh glorious design!  This was a treat for me to get to focus on beauty, albeit beauty of a consumer product.  

My task was first to get the consumer to talk about design elements during the groups, then to draw conclusions about all of their various opinions in my report. In the process of analysis, I came to understand the design values of the various consumer groups I talked to.  In other words, I discovered that the notion of  "good design" depends on the relationship that people have with technology.  The meaning of specific design elements (line, type, shape, and texture) varied from group to group. It was as if each group of consumers had their own meaning for each design element. What looked good in one group was considered tacky in another.

 

As much as I enjoyed the research topic, the work was hard and intense.  The deadline was tight. The stress was high. My only downtime in San Francisco was the 10 minute walk from my hotel in the Chinatown to the the focus group facility off Union Square.   I worked in San Francisco when I finished grad school, but that was a while ago. Downtown SF seemed new, fresh and exciting all over again. 

I walked back to my hotel after the groups on two nights. It wasn't so late that the streets were completely deserted, but it was late enough that the usual work-a-day energy of the city was gone.  What was left were the streets, the lights, the buildings and store windows all fabulously displayed for

 me like an art gallery against an elegant black, San Franciscan night.

I was particularly taken by the window displays of Nieman Marcus on south side of Geary Street between Grant and Stockton.  I was alone on that sidewalk at about 11 at night. A few cars were passing on the street next to me. There were 5 window panels with five mannequins each dressed in couture. I was tired and this was my way of winding down.  I spent about 3 minutes with each display. I carefully studied each panel. If these images were beautiful to me, what was the meaning that I attached to the various design elements of the human form, the fashion, and the display?

I like bold simplicity.  I like that a single mannequin was presented alone in each panel. No scenery, no accessories, no props - just the image of a woman's figure draped in fitted, patterned material that was both simple and complex. I liked the dramatic colored back lighting and background.   I admired the entire composition of each panel - the lighting, the background, the figure, the hair, the jewelery, the clothes. Like the  simplicity of hardwood floor or a freshly cut lawn or even a well-designed website, there was strength and serenity in simplicity of the Nieman Marcus display window.

Last Fall, I was working on a design project for another client. Again, it was for a consumer electronics manufacturer.  A dear family friend died in Colorado, and I had to fly to Colorado for the funeral before I could finish my report.  I worked on my analysis on the flight from Austin to Denver. I worked on the report while I was waiting to catch the bus from the airport to Boulder.  I continued to tap on my laptop with my head down as I sat waiting on the bus for other passengers to board. But as the bus exited the covered loading zone,  I looked up and saw the landscape around the airport and thought, "Wow. Great design! " 

I grew up in Eastern Colorado, but it was if at that moment I saw the plains of Colorado for the very first time.  I saw the simple, bold straight line of the horizon splitting the landscape into two simple sections:  the earth toned land against a big open blue sky.  No trees, no hills, no buildings,  no signs, no billboards, no cars, no roads. For the first time, the simplicity of the plains were full of possibilities--expansive, open and beautiful. The meaning I gave to the design of the land changed. For the first time, I found strength and serenity in the landscape of the place I once called home.

Above picture scanned from title page of  "West of Last Chance" by Peter Brown and Kent Haruf  (W.W. Norton & Company,  2008).