Death of a Moleskine

I was plugging away on my computer when I heard the cry from upstairs.  “Oh no!”  I asked my wife what was wrong.  “You’re going to hate me.”  She said.

I climbed up the stairs and found her in the laundry room.  She began to pull out pieces of paper and show them to me.  “My Moleskine?”

My wife hesitantly responded, “Yeah.”

I had left the notebook in a pair of jeans. Inside the notebook were months of notes.  Ideas, reminders, details and contacts.  Now it looked like scraps from an office wastebasket.

Moleskine Roadkill

Amazingly, the notes were still intact.  The pages had all become loose leaf, but they didn’t shred (as business cards do, much to my wife’s chagrin).  The ink was slightly smeared in places, but everything is still readable.

Moleskine Roadkill 2

So, in this case, rumors of my Moleskine’s demise were greatly exaggerated.

I doubt most notebooks would have escaped the laundry as anything more than pulp in the lint screen.

Sidenote:  This is the second Moleskine tragedy for me in as many weeks.  The previous week, I left my other Moleskine at a school auditorium in Oklahoma City.  Still haven’t tracked it down.  So, if you’re in the OKC area, be on the lookout for a small pocket notebook.  It is black and 3.5″ x 5.5″ in size.  It has slightly curly corners and a rough complexion.  It is full of great ideas and responds by the name of Ledger.

The Room of Beauty

Beautiful Room
In your house you may have a room that is your favorite. Maybe it’s just a corner of the room. It’s where you enjoy sitting and spending time. When you’re there, everything just seems right. You experience peace, joy, comfort and encouragement when you’re there.Maybe it’s the decor, the lighting, the furniture or the music which makes this place special. It is a place of inspiration and motivation for you.

Your room may not be a room at all. It might be a restaurant or a park. It may be a movie or artwork. It may be a person.

You may not go into this room every day, but there’s comfort in knowing it is there when you want or need it. The hardest part is when you no longer can go to your room. Something happens and you lose a special place in your life.

On February 12th, the door to my room was shut. Never to be opened again.

My friend, mentor, spiritual guide and role model, John Kilgore, was unexpectedly removed from my life and the lives of others who loved him deeply.

John was unmatched, the utmost example of expressing love and compassion to those around him. He was famous, even infamous, for his unlimited and enveloping hugs. He had a special gift of making whomever he spoke with feel as though they were the most important person in the world to him in that moment. He desperately wanted people to know they were loved.

John taught me to sing… to worship. He taught me to see beauty in God’s creation: mountains, trees, flowers, sunsets… and people. He taught me how to love people with intensity and genuine compassion. He showed me how to bring the best out of those around me.

John was my first example of how to be an artistic man of God. I was desperate for that. My biggest regret was never sharing that with him.

So, what does this mean to you? You may have never met John. My tribute may not strike home with you. I hope you leave with this. Enjoy the rooms of beauty in your life. Never take them for granted. Soak them up and add your own beauty to theirs.

You never know when the door may close.

John visiting at hospital

John visiting us at the hospital upon the birth of my first son.

John, you changed my life. Thank you for loving me and my family. Thank you for making our lives full of beauty. We miss you greatly.

SnapThoughts 1/18/08

This one is just for fun. While shopping at Kohl’s recently, I turned around and my son was gone. I called for him, but he didn’t answer. I stepped out to an aisle and started to walk to another area when I passed a group of mannequins. I stopped, turned and inspected the display a little closer to discover where he had gone. Mannequin
Smart alec.

Wrapping ParadoxThis isn’t an ad for AT&T (more bars in more places). This is Lowe’s. They were selling Christmas wrapping paper next to wrapping paper storage boxes. There’s a minor issue here.

Best Buy Employee PerceptionAbove is a recruitment poster at a Best Buy distribution center. The marketing effort may have been more effective if not for the display of actual employee photos nearby. See below.

Best Buy Employee Reality

Scars

One of our children broke an arm two weeks ago (hence the missing post that Friday). As people found out about it, I heard many stories about how they or their children had similar experiences. After having these stories shared with me, I felt a sense of fraternity with a new group of people. It reminded me of something I posted on my first blog, which wasn’t about marketing or business… just life. I thought I’d re-post it here today:

Scars

The other day I was shaving and ouch!! I cut my chin. I looked in the mirror and realized that I cut myself because of a scar. The skin was raised a bit by the scar and the blade just nicked it. This scar was the result of an incident when I was two or three years old. While running through my grandma’s kitchen, I tripped and bust my chin open on her linoleum floor. Most people don’t even know I have a scar on my chin. It is on the bottom of the ball of my chin and isn’t noticeable unless I raise my lower lip upward dramatically. I don’t even notice it very often. I hadn’t thought about it in ages, yet it was still there waiting for a hasty blade to bring it to my attention.

We all have scars. Some are from childhood incidents like mine. Others are even harder to see. They’re emotional, psychological, or spiritual. Nevertheless, they are still scars and they wait for some hasty action, ill-spoken word, or reminder of the past to reveal them.

As a volunteer drama director I see this happen occasionally with actors. We will be working on a scene and something triggers an emotion… the actor loses it. We usually take a break and I talk with the actor. Often, something in the scene or about the character revealed something to actor about his/herself. Not surprising since that is what most writers attempt to do. They want people to relate and respond to the story and/or the characters.

My wife Tammy and I were watching Message in a Bottle one evening. Although it is a rather drab movie with suspect acting, there was a moment that shot me to pieces. (Warning: Possible spoiler if you haven’t seen the movie.) One of the characters receives a phone call to find out that a loved one was killed in an accident. On the surface this seems like nothing incredible. This happens in other movies. This time though, I fell apart. The phone call reminded me of one I had received a few months before. A call telling me two friends of ours had died in a plane accident. The scar was reopened without warning and quite abruptly.

What do we do? We can’t walk on eggshells around everyone worrying that we might unwittingly tear open what time has worked so hard to heal. This would paralyze our ability to communicate and ultimately connect with people.

The best answer I have comes from Lethal Weapon 3 (not a typical fount of wisdom, but give me a moment).  There is a scene in this movie where Mel Gibson and Renee Russo’s characters start showing their scars to each other. They take it to extremes by beginning to disrobe, but that’s beside the point. They share their stories through these scars. This is where they fall for each other. Why? Because he relates to her. She understands where he’s been. They connect. What if that’s the point?

What if we have the scars so we can share them with others? So we can relate to one another. Sharing our hurt and hopefully our healing with people who may have similar stories of their own. It’s hard. There’s a fear that people may be disgusted by our scars or maybe they will reopen the wound somehow. That fear however, should not impede us from sharing with the right people at the right moment.

It may be worth a nick on the chin to engage someone’s heart.

More Steve

Several Christmas seasons ago, we were spending time with my wife’s family. My sister-in-law Wendy asked her husband if he wanted more egg nog. “Would you like more, Steve?” she asked.

Overhearing this, their young son decided he wanted another glass. Having heard his parents’ exchange, he now knew what to ask for. “Can I have some more steve too?” Of course we erupted into laughter as we saw his child-like logic make an unusual connection. We now call egg-nog “steve” occasionally.

I’m fortunate in life to have a wonderful younger brother by birth, Nick. I was the artist, he was the athlete. But we always seemed to have a great time together (and still do). Nick always wanted a younger brother, so I told him he could order one from the Sears catalog. But that’s another story.

I never had a big brother, but if I considered anyone a big brother – it is Steve. He has advised me on decisions affecting my career, my family, and my spiritual path. Even though his career moved him to Texas several years ago, I still consider him an invaluable mentor.

Now Steve is offering his sage advise to many others. He has been blogging for a while and comments here from time to time. I would encourage you to check out his Waypoint blog. You’ll find good advice as you make decisions on your career, your family, and your spiritual path.

Go get some “more Steve.”

… I’m it!

Sorry I didn’t have time to make this shorter.

After being tagged by both John Grant and Spike (who both have GREAT blogs – check ‘em out), I’m way late in getting this done. We’re going through some exciting changes at our fledgling agency. Since I merged my consulting practice with Sandy’s agency, I have been very reactive. Getting on top of stuff now (thank goodness) and will probably be blogging a bit more.

John and Spike tagged me to continue a blog meme discussing 5 things you don’t know about me. Here we go.

1. I grew up in a grocery store.

I wasn’t raised by a pack of wolves, I was raised by a 6-pack of Dr. Pepper. Actually, my grandparents owned the local grocery store in Kellyville, OK. The store was sort of a local mercantile. You could go to Staiger’s Grocery and buy food, hardware, automotive parts, plumbing supplies, and even feed for your cattle.

My father was the store manager and my mom was the produce manager. The store was about 3 blocks from school. Sometimes I would walk to school from the grocery store when my dad took me to work in the morning, and I usually walked to the grocery store after school – waiting for my mom to get off work at 5 PM. I spent many hours reading comic books in front of the magazine rack or playing tape-ball in the store warehouse.

2. I began my career as an illustrator.

Maybe it was all those years of reading comic books. I have drawn every since I can remember using a pencil or crayon. I remember being 4 years old, drawing a picture and asking my mom how to spell my name so I could sign my masterpiece.

I won some art show awards in high school. I was elated to take Best of Show my senior year. Mr. Chinoweth, the high school art instructor, was a huge encouragement to me. He’s one of the reasons I stuck with art.

While at Oklahoma State University, I majored in graphic design with an emphasis in illustration (they didn’t have an illustration degree). Carey Hissey was my illustration instructor and my favorite by far.

After graduation, I began illustrating for magazines and book publishers. After a few years, I found the isolation of freelance illustration (and the tiny paychecks) losing it’s luster and began to work for some agencies in Tulsa, OK.

3. I auditioned for The Apprentice.

The Apprentice held auditions in Oklahoma City a few years ago. I felt confident in my creativity and business sense, so I figured it was worth a shot. I felt like I did pretty well.

They do group “auditions” where they give a controversial topic and let everyone debate chaotically. I decided to let both sides be presented, point out both sides’ flaws, and give a third perspective as a solution. Each time, the room became quiet and I seemed to give the final answer.

I was voted project manager by our group in the end. But I never got a call for the next round. I’m guessing I was too diplomatic. “Diplomatic” isn’t good for TV.

4. My solo song has been released.

Actually, it was released 8 years ago. Our church recorded an album as a tribute to the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir. My solo is a song called “We Are United.” It’s not bad, but don’t expect to see me on American Idol.

5. Mo’ drama, mo’ drama, mo’ drama.

I’ve been involved in drama since junior high school. Back then, my best friend and I were awarded the “Steven Spielberg” award for creativity in drama.

In high school, I won local and district competitions with a dramatic duet (a scene from The Rainmaker). We went on to state competition with it.

In college, I performed works of Shakespeare as Hamlet and Henry V. I also performed with a drama and music group that ministered to prisons and youth shelters.

I have led drama ministry at our church (Liberty Church in Broken Arrow, OK), but left that role recently. I still write scripts and direct occasionally for dramas at our church.

Of course this experience has helped me as I write TV and radio scripts for Hahn Promotions. A little drama background doesn’t hurt a creative director.

Keeping the meme alive, I will tag Steve, Cord, and Ernie.