Archive for the 'Social Commentary' Category

What’s so great about being in your 40′s

Published December 1, 2011 Creative Life , Essays , Social Commentary Leave a Comment
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I was talking with a good friend (are there any other kind?) the other day, and we were discussing work and the various challenges we were facing. And he said, “You’re in your 40′s, you’re supposed to be challenged.” I laughed, but later, that comment stuck with me. Most of the articles I read about being in your 40′s are related to the crappy stuff: what you can’t wear anymore, things you can’t do anymore because you’re of  ’a certain age’ now, exercising for your age, blah blah blah.

How come no one talks about the good stuff that can happen once you cross over to the land of 40? Here are five positive things I’ve noticed kicked in this decade:

1. Lower bullshit tolerance. I’ve found that the older I get, the less bullshit I am willing to tolerate. Toxic people, bad behavior, activities I participated in for other people not myself…I don’t have time or patience for it anymore. Maybe it’s because you realize in your 40′s that half your life is behind you and you never know how much more is in front of you, so why waste it on people or things you don’t like?

2. Higher empathy quotient. I’ve always been an overachiever, and in expecting a lot from myself, I think I expected too much from others, too. Maybe it’s because I’m a mom and I see how this approach doesn’t work with kids. Maybe it’s because I have a child who has ADHD and I see him struggle to overcome his challenges. Maybe it’s watching my dad struggle a little more as he approaches 80 years old. Whatever it is, I’ve learned to slow down, listen when people talk and try to hear between the lines, and try to understand where they’re coming from. We’re all doing the best we can.

3. More patience. While my bullshit tolerance has gone down, I think I have gained a little more patience. I’ve never been good at that, but between juggling work, kids, and life, you drop a few balls sometimes…so you have to learn to roll with the punches. I’ve forgotten picture day at school, shown up at meetings with Cheerios in my hair (from the babies, not me!), and once went to an event with a lollipop stuck to the back of my skirt (thanks kids for leaving that on my front seat for me!) It makes me much more understanding when things don’t go as planned.

4. More inward focus, less outward. I don’t know about you, but the older I get, the more I find myself seeking out things that will make me more balanced on the inside. Finding more meaning in my creative work, forging deeper connections with people I care about, letting go of the past so I can see what’s in front of me…all of these things matter more to me today than they ever did before.

5. More incentive to stay strong. Let’s face it, after 40+ years on the planet, you’ve experienced everything from the death of loved ones to job loss to money woes, illness, kid drama and everything in between. It can make you feel 100 years old — if you let it. And it’s hard to watch older relatives struggle with illness and age-related issues. If you’ve ever seen what cancer or Alzheimer’s can do to someone you love, you know what I mean. It inspires me to eat healthier, work out more and try to take better care of myself so that I can stay strong for the long haul.

So maybe I am wearing all the wrong things for my age, but I’m still learning, I’m still challenging myself, and I’m doing the best I can. What do you say? What’s great about your 40′s? Or was there another decade that was even better for you?

The greatest Valentine’s Day gift: make fun of someone you love today

Published February 14, 2011 Creative Life , Essays , Fun , Social Commentary 3 Comments
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So my husband and I were having a…discussion the other day about my apparent need to tease him. Now, I don’t go out of my way to mock him. I don’t get sarcastically mean or tear him down in front of other people, nothing like that. But I do like to point out his…idiosyncracies.

For example, Hubby despises mayonnaise. He tells everyone he’s allergic to it. (We all know this is not possible.) He also despises when I defrost frozen meat in the microwave and then cook it. (He claims he can taste the difference.) These are little things, but they are the little wacky things that make him…my Hubby and not someone else’s. I am endeared by his charming quirks.

That’s exactly why I joke around with him about it. I notice these things because I love him. And how do I show affection to people I love? I make fun of then. Or rather, I make fun WITH them. It’s a long, storied family tradition. Joking around and affectionate teasing go all the way back to my grandmother on my father’s side. One of my relative’s on that side is a professional clown, for God’s sake.

Whenever I get together with my family, we all joke around, teasing each other, making fun of ourselves (we can dish it AND take it), but mostly, laughing. A lot. Of course, like a lot of people, we’ve had struggles: cancer, unemployment, marital distress, financial trouble. But we as a family have always used humor to keep us on track. To keep us sane. To make life fun no matter how dark the world may be. That’s when we all need a little lightness.

Last night, as my husband fended me off from joking about his hunt-and-peck method of typing, I told him the truth: I love you, therefore I tease you. I only reserve my joking and kidding for people I really, really care about. If I didn’t love him, I explain, I would never laugh at him OR with him. But mostly, I am trying to create that connection with him that is ingrained in me from The Family Way: when you love someone, you laugh with them. Sometimes at them, but mostly with them. :)

So this Valentine’s Day–Hallmark holiday that it is–make laughter with someone you love today.

 

Could you be the next Steve Jobs?

Published January 19, 2011 Business , Creative Life , Social Commentary , Work Life 2 Comments
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Now that Apple’s Steve Jobs has announced he is taking another medical leave of absence, there’s been a frenzy of chatter in the media about what will happen to Apple without him. My favorite analysis of a “Job-less” Apple is this well-thought out FastCompany article, How Apple Could Fall Without Steve.

It balances Job’s strengths (vision, energy) and weaknesses (odd resistances, such as the Adobe/flash debate, firewire vs. USB) and how Apple would fare without him at the helm. The author also rightly acknowledges that “Jobs isn’t the only genius in the world.”

And that got me thinking: how does one individual become so intertwined with a company that the two become almost one? It’s hard to tell what came first, the Apple or the Jobs. But Jobs’ vision, energy and passion is inspiring and drives the business. You either love or hate Apple (and Jobs for that matter), but there’s no denying that Apple is the darling of the technology world at this moment. But now everyone is wondering if, and how, his absence might change everything.

Are you the next Steve Jobs?
Whether you work in technology, retail, marketing, construction or any other industry, do you have what it takes to be a Steve Jobs? You don’t need to be Jobs to be considered integral to your company or business–but you do need to be considered valuable. Resourceful. Visionary. Passionate. You need to bring that je ne sais quoi to your work that makes people care whether you stay or go.

Coming out of one of the worst recessions since the Great Depression, we’ve all learned that we are replaceable. Heck, even Jobs is replaceable, although the results are debatable. So we’re all looking for ways to make ourselves as irreplaceable as possible, to make people worry about what would happen next if we were gone.

“A hundred years from now? All new people.”
Anne Lamott

So knowing that there will be all new people 100 years from now, how do you make your mark today? (Surely Jobs thinks of this as he battles pancreatic cancer.) And when I say that, I don’t mean, how do you drive a company to billions of dollars in profit. I mean, what drives you? What do you care about? How can you become a visionary leader in your own life or job?

Off the top of my head, I think it requires these six things:

Have a vision. Take time to think about your vision for the future. What is your ideal job? What are you doing daily? What does that look like? What’s the big picture for you? For your job? For your industry as a whole? Anticipate a trend; visualize how you see things going. Then stay true to your vision until it happens or until it doesn’t feel right anymore or you have reason to believe otherwise. You can always tweak your vision. But if you’re working without one, you might as well be walking around blind-folded.

Innovate. What problem, big or small, drives you crazy? How can you solve it? What’s missing in the world and why? What can you do about it? What is something you’d like to change? Companies that don’t take a risk or change or continue to produce new ideas grow stagnate or become followers more than leaders. (Microsoft, anyone?)

The same is true for people. When was the last time you took a chance, whether it’s speaking up at the staff meeting or exploring that new product idea you’ve been toying with for years? Be bold. Be daring. Be creative.

Listen. What are people talking about? What do they want? Based on what you hear and know, what do you think people want that they haven’t even articulated yet? For Jobs, it was good design, innovation and products that “just work.” This will also help you know when it’s time to change course or reshape your vision. After all, just because it’s your vision doesn’t mean it’s right or the that the world is ready for it.

Find your passion. I can’t imagine anything worse than waking up every day feeling dead inside because you don’t love what you do. If you don’t feel inspired or challenged, if you’re just going through the motions, think about what you wanted to be when you were 10 years old. Remember what you liked to do with your time and energy before “real life” kicked in.

Find some way to incorporate that passion into your day right now, this very minute. Watch the color come back into your face and into the world around you.

Believe. In yourself, in your idea, in the fact that you can make it work. Because trust me, there are going to be days when no one believes in you, including yourself. You’re going to lose faith. You’ll question yourself, doubt your decisions, especially when the going gets tough. But if you can reach into your heart and say with all honesty, “This is what I believe in,” and hear it answered back to yourself, you’ll get through it.

This is also about believing in people around you. If you surround yourself with good people–the right people–you will have others to lean on when you lose faith. Ideally, these people will call you out on your bullshit. They won’t just tell you what you want to hear. You should believe in them too, because belief goes both ways.

Fail. Taking a chance, risking something, putting yourself “out there”–it’s scary. It doesn’t feel good to fail, so most of us avoid it at all costs. But you can survive it. You can’t get to the next level or the next big idea or where you’re supposed to be if you don’t fail once in a while. No one is perfect, not even Steve Jobs. Apple TV isn’t quite where it needs to be yet, for example.

But if you are willing to take a chance on something you believe in–if you give yourself permission to try, and you fail–whatever “failure” means to you–you’re a winner because you had the guts to try. You can always change your dream or change your course, but if you never try because you were too afraid, that’s the saddest failure of all.

Money, blue collar roots and butt steak: lessons my father taught me

Published January 12, 2011 Essays , Social Commentary 4 Comments
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I took my father out for dinner this weekend for his birthday. He is 79 and I can write about him here because he would think I said “frog” not “blog” and then I would spend 20 minutes trying to explain to him what a blog was. My dad is a steel mill guy. He has never used a computer. His hands are now so arthritic and knobby that it’s hard for him to use his cell phone. I can’t leave him voice mails because he doesn’t know how to check his voice mail and I’ve given up trying to explain it. Needless to say, he won’t be checking my blog anytime soon.

It was an old-school steak restaurant in Northwest Indiana, close to his house, that still has a coat room and serves $30 steaks and iceberg lettuce salads. It used to be one his favorite restaurants to bring my mom. There were still Christmas lights on the plants. My husband and I, at 41, were the youngest couple in the place.

My son sat across the table looking pissy as I tried to get him to pick something off the menu, my daughter is babbling about her science fair project, my husband is ordering a kiddie cocktail (for himself) and appetizers, while all I know is that the restaurant has salmon, because my dad keeps asking me every 30 seconds what I’m going to order, which means I can never get past the first entrée on the menu.

So I tell my dad to order anything he wants. New York Strip, filet mignon, appetizers. I know his budget is tight, so he doesn’t come to this restaurant much anymore.

“It’s your birthday!” I say. “It’s my treat! Splurge!”

“Okay,” he says, rubbing his hands together eagerly. He looks very handsome in a spiffy sweater with a shirt and tie underneath. He picks up the menu and he peers at it through his bifocals. His hands shake a little.

The waitress appears.

“What will you have?” she says.

He orders the butt steak, one of the toughest and cheapest cuts of meat on the menu. Some things never change.

“Dad!” I plead. “Come on, don’t you want a nicer cut of meat? What about a filet?”

“That’s $30, Chris,” he says and waves me away. “I like butt streak.”

“Right,” I say.

“I do!” he insists. “It’s the cow’s butt!”

Then he lets loose a big whooping laugh and punches me in the shoulder.

After dinner, my dad thanked me profusely, saying the butt steak was delicious. As we waited for the kids to put their coats on and stop bickering, he pointed at a photo on the wall of a 1950′s red Cadillac convertible. He whistled and said, “Look at that.” I asked him when was the last time he went ballroom dancing. He said, oh, not for a long time. Many of the bands and halls he used to frequent are no longer around. Now he spends most of his time at the nursing home, visiting his wife who has Alzheimer’s.

On the way home, I watched the cities and lights roll past in the dark. The day my father told me that I was making a higher salary than he ever had in 37 years working at the mill, I didn’t know what to say. We’d never talked much about money before, but as he gets older and his social security budget gets tighter, he’s asking more questions about how much things cost, what I spend on the nice salsa I bought for him, etc. My salary isn’t excessive by any means, and in this economy, I’m happy to be working.

Yet–being the first person in my working-class family to go to college, I am keenly aware of how different my life could have been. Seeing my dad now is a reminder of how quickly life can change, how quickly a job, money, friends, your whole way of life, can disappear. The only constant in life is change. It’s a reminder to live carefully and sometimes, order the butt instead of the filet.

Life has passed my father by. I have passed my father by. I know things, have experienced things, that he never will because he doesn’t have a college degree, he missed the technology boat completely, and is closer to the end of his life while I am more in the middle. That’s why I want my dad to enjoy a good steak, to splurge a little. He deserves it.

My husband said that’s the way it goes. Parents always want better for their kids than they had. I know he’s right. I am grateful to my parents for helping me get to this point in my life, for all the sacrifices they’ve made, which I am only now, at 41 and a parent of two, slowly coming to understand deeply and more clearly than ever before. I like to think that if my mother were here, she’d be happy to see what I’ve accomplished.

Now if I can just convince my dad that he doesn’t have to order butt steak next time around, then I’ll feel like I’ve really made it.

Drinking and decorating: The anti-Martha-Stewart-Pottery-Barn Christmas tree

Published December 17, 2010 Creative Families , Creative Life , Creative Parenting , Essays , Fun , Kids , Social Commentary 8 Comments
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Two years ago, I turned over the job of decorating my Christmas tree to my kids, then ages 7 and 9. We had just moved into our “new” 54-year-old house that needed a lot of TLC and was sucking the life out of us. After months of looking for new places for our furniture, artwork, books, games, dishes, and walking into walls in unfamiliar rooms in the middle of the night and grasping for unfamiliar light switches, the thought of having to find a good place for the Christmas tree was the last straw. I sat on the floor of the house that still felt like someone else’s and cried.

This was not Christmas as I’d known it growing up. Holidays were BIG at my house and consisted of cleaning, cooking, shopping, baking, more cleaning, coordinating outfits, practicing Christmas songs on the organ (I know, right???), wrapping, more cleaning, making cookies, making pierogis, and more cleaning. My mother spent days arranging decorations in the house; she was Martha Stewart before anyone had heard of Martha Stewart.

I was never permitted to touch the “good” tree upstairs, but I was allowed to decorate the “other” tree in the basement. I call it the consolation tree. (Usually my mother would come down later and rearrange all the ornaments again anyway.) Secretly I fear I’ll never be good enough to put together the good tree.

See, that’s why the holidays are tricky. There’s all this pressure to be merry and buy stuff but it’s also fraught with memories, good and bad. Sometime after Halloween, I remember all the old family holiday parties and every year, there are a few less faces around the table. Some years are harder than others. That year in our new old house was a hard one.

So I let my kids decorate the good–the only–tree all by themselves that year, and it was so much fun we decided to make it a new Miles family tradition. We play holiday music. I make hot chocolate.  The kids dance around all hopped up on sugar cookies. They make me wear the Santa hat with the reindeer antlers. But they take their job very seriously. Each ornament is placed with great care and consideration, although I have the most random, crazy mix of ornaments you could possibly imagine. It’s enough to make Martha’s toes curl.

The reactions to their decorating efforts are usually…not good. People walk in, look at the tree and say things like, “Oh my!” or “Were you drinking and decorating again?” It makes me wonder sometimes how my mom felt when she stood back, alone, to survey her tree and the trimmings and the perfection. I would ask, but her last Christmas was 16 years ago. If she could see my tree now, she would immediately shoo me out of the room so she could fix it. I would let her do it, but only if she wore the Santa hat with the reindeer antlers, which she’d hate because it would mess up her hair.

So yeah, my tree looks disheveled and a little tipsy, kind of like me after the neighborhood holiday party–OK, all of the neighborhood parties–and the complete opposite of any tree ever featured in Pottery Barn.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Take a break from holiday shopping: Get inspired at the Frank Lloyd Wright Home & Studio Tour

Published December 11, 2010 Creative Life , Creativity Coaching , Fun , Holidays , Social Commentary , Work Life Leave a Comment
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One of the best ways to stay creative and inspired is to keep your creative pond, an idea I first heard from The Artist’s Way author Julia Cameron, well stocked with creative eye candy and experiences: art, design, poetry, music, theater, anything that makes you feel alive and in awe. It can be somewhere as vast as the Grand Canyon or your own town’s farmer’s market. It’s even better when the inspiration is free and is good for the whole family–especially during the often hectic and frenetic holidays.

Case in point: the Frank Lloyd Wright Home and Studio tour. We surprised our kids with it this morning–woke them up, said let’s go, wouldn’t tell them where, stopped for doughnuts and headed out to Oak Park for the free Family Fun Days Featuring Victorian Christmas Tours.

For kids, by kids. Free tours of Wright’s Oak Park home, decorated for the holidays. Led by Junior Interpreters, specially trained 5th through 10th grade students, the tours focus on Wright family celebrations of the Christmas holidays. Enjoy hot chocolate and holiday music in the Home and Studio courtyard and play with Froebel blocks in Wright’s drafting room.

Fortunately my kids, ages 9 and 11, get as excited about architecture and history as my husband and I, so they were in awe of the unique home that looked nothing like any of the houses in our neighborhood. There was so much to take in: the old-fashioned toys, the huge Christmas tree in the children’s playroom (which also included a special staircase that led to a balcony for the Wright children to perform plays), the old ice box, and at the end of the tour, the Froebel blocks that were made available for anyone to play with, which we all did. The free hot chocolate was the icing on the cake of a cold, rainy winter day.

While there were adult guides throughout the house, kids ranging in age from 11 to 15 or so delivered the tour of each room–complete with historical details and tales of how the Wrights spent their holidays. They were professional and knowledgeable, and it was refreshing to see pre-teens and teens in this positive role–and I was happy that my children saw this as well. It wasn’t crowded, either, which made it easier to walk around the rooms and feast on the details without feeling pressure to move over or move on.

I told the kids to bring their wallets, and they found some cool, unique toys in the museum gift shop. (I talked my daughter out of the colored pencils, which we could buy anywhere, and she found a unique window glass art kit that she liked better.) Normally we wouldn’t buy stuff so close to Christmas, but it helps support the preservation trust, so it seemed like the right thing to do, especially since the tour was free.

We all left the house inspired by the architect’s vision, his unique design philosophy, the way natural light infused every room from the beautiful windows, building our own mini-creations with simple wooden blocks, the fascinating woodwork, attention to detail right down to the paint colors–Wright preferred natural earthy colors, according to our guides.

Standing there in Wright’s home, built in 1889, surrounded by moss-green walls, warm yet worn honey wood floors and light all around, it was impossible not to feel the beauty of his vision at every turn: a home filled with light and nature, form and function, beauty and tranquility.

It sure beat hanging out at the mall this time of year. Get creative. Stay creative. Even during the holidays.

To learn more about events sponsored by the Frank Lloyd Wright Preservation Trust, visit their website.

What you really mean when you say “I’m not creative”

Published December 1, 2010 Creative Life , Creative Writing , Creativity Coaching , Marketing , Social Commentary 3 Comments
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Over the years, I’ve heard countless people tell me that they are not creative. This always surprises and amuses me. What I’ve found is that this phrase is often used for other purposes. For example:

As a disclaimer: “I’m not creative, okay, but here’s my idea…”.

To soften a request: “I think we should use my headline instead of yours. I mean, I’m not creative, but I think it works better.”

To avoid work: “I can’t help you with this. I’m not creative.”

To sum up a vague objection: “I don’t like the bird graphic/the color purple/this story…but well, maybe it’s because I’m not creative.”

As a sarcastic jibe: “Yes, I saw your artwork/design/story. I’m not creative though, so maybe that’s why I don’t get it/like it/care.

To mask anxiety: “I’m a logistical person. I’m not creative. What do I know?”

So what does “being creative” really mean?
Everyone is creative. But “to be creative” means different things to different people. At its heart, creativity is about:

  • Curiosity: you want to know about people, places and things
  • Risk: you are willing to take a chance on things and ideas that are important to you; that includes speaking up and taking action when it matters
  • Reflection: thinking feeds ideas which feeds creativity
  • Patience: sometimes you have to wait for ideas to come and trust that they will come
  • Listening: sharing ideas requires a willingness to hear what someone else has to say without judgment
  • Passion: passion fuels inspiration which fuels creativity

Notice how I didn’t mention anything related to writing, artwork, painting, sculpture, design…all of those activities that are typically labeled as “creative.” Just because I’m a writer does that make me any more creative than a software developer who creates a cool app? Or a scientist who makes a major breakthrough in cancer research? Or a mom who finds a way to get her kids in the car without tantrums?

Exactly. Creativity is not something you either have or don’t have. We are all creative. Take a look at your own work and life and see all the ways, big and small, that you are creative. Use the six qualities above as a check list. You might be surprised at how creative you really are.

What does “being creative” mean to you?

Traveling by air? Enjoy your free TSA Enhanced Pat Down!

Published November 23, 2010 Copywriting , Fun , Social Commentary 4 Comments
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Nine New Taglines for the TSA

I am always grateful to government agencies, oil companies and politicians for giving lowly marketing copywriters like me more fodder to write about than I could ever conjure up on my own. That’s why I’m also grateful that the Transportation Security Administration (TSA) is providing “enhanced pat-downs” to ensure our safety during air travel in these times of heightened security risk.

I don’t know about you, but I feel infinitely safer from terrorism now that bladder cancer survivors won’t even think about sneaking suspicious liquids into their medical devices, all thanks to the trusty TSA.

To show my gratitude, I give you my top 9 picks for new TSA taglines:

1. Sex tapes are out. Naked x-rays are in!

2. Terrorist attack or cancer from the x-ray: You have a choice!

3. T-shirt slogan: “I was inspected by TSA Agent #24.”

4. TSA: Checking every American fat roll and muffin top with pride.

5. TSA: Have you had your grope today?

6. Limited-time only: No-fee pat-downs!

7. TSA: Get your own private screening.

8. TSA: Let our fingers do the walking!

9. Wow, these are friendly skies!

Of course, you could skip the flight and drive to your destination, but then you’d miss all the fun. So if you insist on being a party pooper, enjoy this Saturday Night Live video or follow the TSA’s mock Twitter account (special thanks to the Copywriter Underground for tweeting a link). And lastly, in all fairness, here is one blog post that highlights TSA agents’ real-life reactions to providing enhanced pat-downs, which confirms that TSA agents are people too, and no, they don’t get off on touching your man boobs.

 

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TV commercials as mirror: is this really who we are and what we’re about?

Published November 3, 2010 Brand , Fun , Marketing , Social Commentary 3 Comments
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How is technology changing society? Just look to marketing, especially TV commercials. Writers often write stories that reflect back what they see around them–prevalent attitudes, culture, changes, issues. Marketers do this too, but unlike writers who try to make a point, change our minds or get us talking and thinking differently, marketers (like me) are trying to sell you stuff. Some of the time, some of us get it right.

And then there are commercials like this one for the new Windows Phone 7.

The first time I saw it, it got my attention. The music was compelling and built up a great crescendo to match the action. The people were so distracted, I caught myself smirking. So true! So ironic! So sad! And so universal–we all know “someone” who is permanently attached to their phone in an unhealthy way. We’re a distracted nation.

Microsoft took that reality and exaggerated the truth even further, showing people crashing into each other, sitting on each other, picking up a phone out of a urinal (yuck). We’re all tripping, falling, ignoring each other, tuning out of our lives and the people around us. The point Microsoft makes is..wow, what a nation of clumsy distracted idiots we are! Look how stupid we look!

Uh huh. And you want me to buy WHAT?

The cheapest shot of all was the saccharine sweet little girl at the end, which is meant to strike fear and guilt in the hearts of parents and grandparents everywhere because we are clearly ruining the next generation. And the solution to all of this guilt, clumsiness, distraction and stupidity?

Why, it’s Windows Phone 7! The phone that will save us (and our children!) from our phones and ourselves. That’s a tall order for a mobile phone. It must have super powers. Except we’re not sure how the Windows Phone 7 will save us because no proof is provided–no benefits, no super powers, no unique design, no competitive advantages.

Does this mean there are none? After all, Windows Phone 7 is…a phone. We will still be just as likely to trip, fall, walk into someone, sit on someone or drive off the road while using this phone as much as any other. I’m not sure if anyone would dive into the urinal to get this phone–an iPhone, maybe.

In my humble opinion, this is a great example of how NOT to market to people. Sure, it’s funny to watch people do stupid things. But in the end, Microsoft is pointing out our flaws. Mocking us. And trying to sell us something on top of it.

Compare this to the HP ePrinter Happy Baby commercial.

Disclaimer: I have kids, but I’m a marketer, so by default, I’m immune to babies, puppies, kittens and Hallmark commercials. But I like this ad because:

1. It’s a simple, well-executed concept. The idea is clearly embedded in our minds through visuals and simple dialogue: send your “baby” to the printer anywhere, right from your phone.  I say “baby” in quotes because some people’s “babies’ are their cars, their dogs or their puppet collection. Way to make it universal! This is a short, well-told story. As we say in fiction, “Show don’t tell.” This commercial nailed it.

2. It surprised and intrigued me. Very few things surprise me anymore, but the first time I saw this commercial, I stopped what I was doing. Why? The baby is cute but in a regular kid way, not the stereotypical Gerber baby way. The imagery consisted of simple visuals–baby and road scenes–juxtaposed in an unexpected way. Love that. It’s creative without trying too hard.

3. The tune set the right tone. Many of the YouTube commenters complained about the music. You’ll never please all the people all the time, but as far as I’m concerned, the music has just the right upbeat tempo for the action and adds just the right touch of whimsy.

4. It’s a positive reflection of…me! Unlike Windows Phone 7, this commercial says “technology” and “innovation”without making me feel like a doofus in the process. Gold star, HP!

I’m a big proponent of keeping things positive–especially in marketing. It requires strategic thinking, diplomacy, creativity and above all, common sense. If you want me to love your brand and buy your product, don’t show me what an idiot I am. Show me how your brand fits me and how will it make my life better. You really can catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Honey.

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