Pow! Right Between The Eyes! Andy Nulman's Blog About Surprise

What I Learned This Week--Leaving a (Real) Legacy

I had dinner with an old friend in Toronto last week, and as old friends do, we discussed heady matters like concerts, sports, food...and legacy.

Said friend is quite the influential one, and has been approached many a time to run for major political office.  He admitted that for a while, he had considered it seriously--VERY seriously--and did so for two specific reasons: to make a difference, and to leave a lasting legacy.

In the end, he bowed out gracefully, saying that he didn't need politics to make a difference...which left us with the legacy portion of the discussion.

My take on the subject was a little rough, and somewhat cynical, going as far as to say that "Legacy ain't what it used to be."  (Don't blame me, blame the wine...)

And with that, the rant was off and running. 

What exactly is leaving a "legacy"?  Having a bridge named after you?  An airport?  A dam?  A crumbling block of engraved cement splattered with gum on a Walk of Fame?  These days, with so much information being spewed and consumed and ultimately displaced by other information (and at a frighteningly rapid rate), who remembers the who or the why anymore? Does anybody know who Toronto's Pearson Airport or Nevada's Hoover Dam was named after? Does anybody realize New York's Lincoln Centre was named after cultural giant Lincoln Kirstein and NOT after Abraham Lincoln? 

And even if so..does anybody even care? 

Aside from history buffs, the answer is a depressing "No...not really." 

The speed of the present

and the onrush of the future

is making the past

increasingly irrelevant. 

No matter how great your achievement, in the end, it's just another line on one of a billion Wikipedia pages or a few seconds on a tour guide's cliched script.

But again, does impactful behavior really have to be widespread to leave a proper legacy? We now live in a time of extreme narrow-casting; for example, in the TV world, general broadcast networks begat specialty sports networks which begat golf channels which I promise will soon beget putting channels (left-handed or right-handed; your choice!).  The sheer volume of population and its many diverse interests spawn slender niches which are sliced thinner still, yet still manage to comprise a remarkably sizable market to influence.

And as legacy goes,

perhaps the most important

niche market to influence

is that of your family. 

Small niche. But huge as per this week's learning. 

Let's face it, most of us ain't going to become a Martin Luther King or Albert Einstein or Marie Curie or (insert your favorite inspirational person here).   But that doesn't mean you can't contribute to the betterment of the world, and build a legacy in the process, by close-up focusing on those close to you.

Perfect example is a project my influential friend has been working on while flying around the world this past year.  He's committed to write a book specifically for his children; a no-holds-barred, warts-and-all outpouring of emotion and advice and guidance and love. His audience for said book can be counted on one hand, with the thumb hidden. 

He said it was inspired by his own father dying when he was barely out of his teens, and recently realizing that he had forgotten the sound of his father's voice.  He vowed never to let that happen to his own kids...hence the book.  They don't know it yet, but it'll be a special Xmas present this year. 

So no airports or bridges or dams or centres or engraved cement blocks for my influential friend.

But one hell of a legacy he'll leave behind.

A truly unforgettable one that really matters.

To those that really matter.

So, although I hate to end blog posts like this...what will you do to solidify your legacy?

Some very special people are waiting to find out.

What I Learned This Week--Pampering The Best Doesn't Mean Dump on the Rest

As there has been every day (except Mondays) for about three months, there was a massive line-up yesterday snaking around the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts to gain entry to the blockbuster Dale Chihuly "Utterly Breathtaking" glass exhibition.  Despite the grandeur of the huddled masses, many taking shelter under umbrellas because of the rain, I paid them no heed as I strode right by and made a beeline direct to the entranceway turnstiles safely indoors.

Such is the benefit of holding the Museum’s VIP membership card.  Frankly, there are multiple benefits, including a free subscription to a magazine, discounts on concerts and merchandise, but the “ignore the line” benefit is the one, true ne plus ultra.

Such prestige treatment doesn’t come free; a two-year family pass sets me back $166.   But my rapid fly-by yesterday, and the looks on the faces of those who knew not of such privilege, made it all worth it.

What the Museum is doing is not new, nor unique.  Just about every business still breathing—from airlines to coffee shops to media properties to financial institutions to hotel chains to comedy festivals to pizza parlors—have some sort of “frequent user” or “subscriber” program that separates the loyal “US" from the random “THEM.” 

But here’s what I learned this week as I flew by the long museum line (and to be frank, something that has been bugging and weighing on me somewhat heavily over the past few months):

Taking care of one’s

“best” customers

doesn’t give you the license

to treat the rest like crap. 

I’m sure no company consciously thinks “let’s dump on the majority of our clients,” but such is the result in so many cases nonetheless.  For example, read this piece by The Montreal Gazette’s Brendan Kelly, who unleashed a tirade against Arcade Fire for the way they chose to launch their new album a couple of weeks ago.  And as much as I was a bit of a pretentious, conspicuous asshole at the museum yesterday (come on, you WERE thinking that a few paragraphs ago, weren’t you?), I am found way more often amongst the “them” rather than the “us,” so I indeed get where Brendan is coming from…and where most of you stand.

This “priority reward system” is important, and not going away any time soon.  It’s business.  It’s actually good business.  It doesn’t come easy, or free.  You either pay your way in with cash (a la the aforementioned VIP card, or by buying business class airline seats), with frequency, or with influence.  And it does serve to efficiently separate the wheat from the chaff.

But the inherent flaw in this reward system is that most of the chaff actually have the potential to eventually become wheat.  And pissing them off while in chaff mode may not merely prevent them from ever wanting to become wheat, but the long reach, long knives and long memory of social media may cause enough scorched-earth damage to ever prevent more wheat from growing.

So here’s what I suggest (because it’s one thing to learn and another altogether to solve): 

Take enough care of the “them” to inspire them to want to become part of the “us.” 

Delight them.  Surprise them. 

Give them a dose, a taste, a soupcon of the priority treatment. 

Obviously, it can’t be a limitless free-for-all; the distinction line needs to be drawn.  But why not invite some behind it to cross it every now and then?  For example, pull a few people waiting in the “coach” line into the “first class” line at the airport (better still, fill some empty business class seats with randomly-chosen people from the back of the plane).  Allow everyone with a lucky “5” at the end of their license number to jump the museum line.  Give everyone who couldn’t get into the Arcade Fire show a free t-shirt and/or download of the new album.

The specifics of the give aren’t that important; you’ll figure them out.  What is more crucial is the generality of actually doing something of note, because every customer—even the one-off random customer—is a good one. 

Recurring customers, though, are the great ones.  And the better you treat the good ones, the more chance they’ll become the great ones.

What I Learned This Week--The Paradox of Failure When It’s Not an Option

Not long ago, I agreed to speak at a conference for a friend of mine, she being the VP marketing of a large Canadian food corporation.  Prior to my discourse, she made an impassioned plea to her minions—marketing and sales execs gathered from all across the country—in which she outlined the importance of her company’s upcoming missive.  As a rallying cry to close it off, she took a deep breath and slowly said: “Failure is NOT an option.”

This put me in an awkward place, as my speech was about doing things differently and taking risks.  I opened it with one, by saying:

“I hate to start this off by contradicting my friend and your boss, but to tell you the truth, failure is ALWAYS an option.  No matter what anyone says. 

"Knowing it exists, and pretending it doesn’t a sign of psychosis, not bravery.”

That got me a lot of titters and a few laughs, but it’s reality.   What makes a great, heroic line in a movie (Ed Harris grits it out playing NASA’s Gene Kranz in the film Apollo 13) may not be the best advice to give people going into battle, be it business or otherwise.

Here’s why.

If you put the fear, or try to eliminate the possibility, of failure in people embarking on a challenge, they will simply play it safe and do their damndest NOT to fail.  They will walk on eggshells, minimize risks and go for the tried-and-true all in an effort to ensure their success. 

But by playing NOT to lose instead of passionately playing to win, they actually BOOST their chance of failure.  They will miss the ostentatious by going for the obvious.  They will go for the bunt single instead of swinging for the fences.  They will ignore the off-the-beaten paths by concentrating on the paved highway.

So here’s the paradox, and this week’s lesson:

By MINIMIZING

the possibility of failure,

you actually

INCREASE its chances.

Or, put another way... 

If you play NOT to lose,

then you will

NEVER ever really win. 

There are a zillion relevant quotes about this paradoxical dilemma, but I’ve chosen the most recent one I could find, from Peter Budaj, the astute and personable back-up goalie of the Montreal Canadiens.  In discussing the NHL’s dreaded boredom-inducing “trap” defensive system, and it’s arcane rule of awarding the losing team a point in an overtime loss, he said:

"Sometimes I wish they’d make some teams play for a win and not play not to lose (italics mine). 

"That’s a big difference; you’re sitting back and waiting for the opponent to make a mistake, not trying to create anything yourself.”

See the difference?  You’re not creating chances, you’re depending on someone else’s loss to be your gain.  Again, put another way, if you’re sitting back on your heels, it’s actually easier to fall on your ass.

Some of the great stories in the history of sports, business, war, politics and showbiz are results of sure bets, easy wins and “can’t lose” opportunities stunningly swinging the other way.  You may all be too young to remember “Dewey Defeats Truman,” but a quick click here and you will understand the epitome of what we used to call “Counting Your Chickens Before They’re Hatched.”

And on the other hand, even BETTER stories have been written on shocking victories, succeeding against all odds, and unexpected results.  

The type that comes knowing that you COULD fail, but you just don’t care.

After all, it’s ONLY an option…

What I Learned This Week--When The Worst Becomes The Best

One of the many great things about being Jewish—aside from the food, the reputation of an inbred sense of humour, and being able to control the world’s media AND its financial infrastructure at the same time —is that we get to reflect on a year past and plan for the one ahead not once, but twice every 365 days.   

As I compose this, and if you’re reading it relatively timely, we are smack-dab in the middle of Rosh Hashana (literally, the “head” of the year) and Yom Kippur, the solemn Day of Atonement.  It’s a special time of personal assessment for those who even remotely practice, and one of the most thought-provoking inspirations is the High Holidays’ most profound prayer.  I won’t quote all of it, but somewhat edited, it goes:

“On New Year’s Day the decree is inscribed, and on the Day of Atonement it is sealed, how many shall pass away and how many will be born; who shall live and who shall die; who shall attain the measure of man’s days and who shall not attain it; who shall perish by fire and who by water; who will be at ease and who will be afflicted; who shall become poor and who shall wax rich; who shall be brought low and who shall be exalted.”

Yikes.  That’s a lot to think about.  This sure ain’t no holiday for tinsel or toys.  Good thing we got that “inbred sense of humour” thing going.

In a nutshell, that prayer, the philosophical centerpiece of the High Holidays, says that there’s some good stuff and some bad stuff about to go down...we just can’t tell you how much of each. Get ready.

This got me to thinking about the good and the bad…and led to this week’s learning, namely:

Sometimes

the worst of times

may be the best of times 

in disguise 

I repeat the caveat: Sometimes.

Here’s what I mean.  Consider the case of four Canadian mayors over the past year, all of whom endured what could be considered “the worst of times.”  One of them, Michael Applebaum, took over from a scandalized Gérald Tremblay in Montreal.  He came in soaring on an anti-corruption platform…and was removed unceremoniously seven months later after being arrested on the very charges he championed against.  Another, Toronto’s seemingly indestructible Rob Ford, is amazingly still in office after deflecting more shocking scandals, allegations and accusations than the Nixon regime, the Stalin regime and Charlie Sheen combined.

But, on the VERY other hand, consider the cases of Naheed Nenshi, the mayor of Calgary, and Colette Roy-Laroche, mayor of Lac-Mégantic.  Both these elected officials suffered epic, almost biblical disasters; he the Noah’s Ark-ian flooding of his city’s most populated areas and she the horrific runaway MM&A train and its town-leveling explosion.  In terms of direct damage, lives lost and traumatic aftermath, you’d have to be a sadist or terrorist to think of things getting any worse.

Yet for both these politicians, their worst of times have also proven to be their most defining moments.  The skill, grace, poise, humility and strength they both showed in dealing with their respective crises have made them heroes, showering them with respect, love and praise.  The cries of “Roy-Laroche for Premier!” are equaled only by those of “Nenshi for Prime Minister!” (See why here.)  A tale of two cities, indeed.

Now, nobody blatantly hopes for a tragedy or catastrophe.  Neither Ms. Roy-Laroche nor Mr. Nemshi secretly wished for a game-changing calamity or thought “How do I exploit this for my personal gain?” when they were faced with one.  But the way both handled their worst of times turned their proverbial lemons not merely into lemonade, but into solid gold…not to mention faith, trust and ultimately, optimism for a brighter tomorrow.

And there is no time better than that, is there?

So, no matter when you celebrate New Year’s, some day soon you will have to face what appears to be your worst of times. 

Wheher it actually turns out to be, well...that all depends on how you choose to deal with it.

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

P.S.  What does the image atop the post have to do with the rest of it?  Well, the opening line of the Dickens classic is: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..."

What I Learned This Week--How The Process Adds (Mega) Value to The Product

Despite the fact that I convinced myself and countless others that I was “all art-ed out” (translation: had no more room left for art in my home or office), my defences broke down a couple of weeks ago and I bought The Boastful Ghost, the image atop this blog post.

It was hard for me to resist.  The 18x18 wood panel is flooded with delightly-bright acrylic, ink and gouache, and the subject matter—Casper the Friendly Ghost getting a badass tattoo from a smokin’ hot Wendy the Good Little Witch—not only acts as an eye magnet, but makes everyone who sees it break into a smile.  Killer credentials for any work of art, I’d say.

I purchased the piece from Jono Doiron, a young artist from Halifax now living in Montreal.  When he first brought The Boastful Ghost for me to see, he also toted a portfolio of original sketches, drawings and notes that were used in the making of the piece.  I was fascinated, and asked if he would include them as a package deal.

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t.  But he did the next best thing, because when we ultimately consummated the transaction and I paid for the painting, he handed me a booklet called "Thoughts and Progress." (That's it at left.)   

Spawned by our conversation and my request for the “making of” portfolio, the booklet describes the start-to-finish process of The Boastful Ghost, from original inspirational thought to final artist signature.

One of my favorite stories is how Jono chose the many characters tattooed on Wendy’s arm.  As he says: “I was going about it in the wrong way.  I was adding characters I assumed little girls would have been influenced by.  Boys and girls respond to different things and I wanted Wendy’s tattoos to be authentic"

I put out a call on my Facebook art page asking women to submit their favorite cartoon characters when they were a little girl, but without telling them what it was for.  I took the most popular recurring suggestions and put them in.” (See sketches in the book in the pic below.)

The “Thoughts and Progress” concept has become a bit of a sidebar cottage industry for Jono; he now sells the booklet for $20 in his webstore.  But more important than the incremental revenue he’ll generate from it, the booklet increases the value of his work by giving each piece its own profound, personal “story.”  No longer is The Boastful Ghost simply a piece of pop art hanging on my wall; it’s a living entity, a culmination of hours and hours of work, random revelations, eureka moments, research, tests, trials and error.  The booklet gives the painting added depth, added context, and provides me with a series of stories to share with anyone who sees it. 

It’s also the embodiment of this week’s learning, namely:

The story and process

behind a product

is every bit as important

as the product itself 

The intangibility of what went into what you’re buying gives it life, identity and value.  Something purchased from Amazon isn’t just “less expensive,” but carries the entrepreneurial history of Jeff Bezos, the marvel of the company’s state-of-the-art robotic selection and distribution system, and so on.  Same goes for everything you buy from Apple, from that designer cupcake place down the street, and from hard working pop artists who contact you from out of the blue.

This is why I tell my son Hayes, who just started his new high-end, custom furniture business, to document everything he does; take pictures, take notes, take video, and take an interest.  In the end, that’s not just an expensive coffee table he’s making, but the culmination of a story that began when a 100-year-old maple tree fell down on someone’s lawn.

Problem is that most of us can’t see what’s interesting about what we do as we do it; our process is old hat, a grind, a means to an end.

But for those who DON’T do what we do, the process is fascinating.  It doesn’t just construct the product, but its story as well.

And in this hyper-speed, bleeding edge Internet age, it’s also the secret to standing out and adding worth.

P.S. Wanna know what went into writing this post?  Uh…another time ;)