Archive for the ‘all posts’ Category

Treat them like Children: The Rare Political Post

Thursday, February 25th, 2010

I write this because of its pertinence to topics of good and open communication and business strategy. In the Healthcare Summit today, we watched Obama try to engender bipartisanship.  Instead, he gave both “sides” free reign to spout the same old rhetoric.

My take: he should have asked all participants, those on either “side”: What do you — as an individual and as representatives of your constituency — like or object to in this legislation?

Otherwise, it’s like querying a pre-pubescent bible thumper…Do you really know what you’re saying or have free will in your beliefs….or are you just spouting the rote-mastered company line?

Forget the national polls.  If reps and senators can’t speak from their hearts and for the people they represent, government is truly broken and bipartisanship is impossible.

Holiday Card 2009

Saturday, December 19th, 2009

Happy Holidays, Seasons Greetings, From Our Family to Yours, May Your Days Be Shiny and Bright, etc.  Here’s the 2009 card from binderama.  Forgive me for not getting it out in hard copy to all of my regulars, but that’s just a sign of the economy and the state of the environment.  I hope that you find it topical, fun, nostalgic, seasonal and — for the regulars — maybe the best one so far.  It’s a card you can spend a little time with…which is a good thing.

Obviously, this card makes no sense in this resolution.  Go to  www.binderama.com/xmas09.png to view it in higher res.  Trust me, it’s worth it.

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xmas091


A season tradition since 1994

Thursday, December 17th, 2009

Growing up, I never really understood the Christmas card thing.  People went out and bought essentially the same cards and sent them to one another.  The cards’ designs had little to do with their lives — most people didn’t live on a snowy farm in Vermont with a sleigh parked outside.  The more abstract versions might include angels or doves.  There were mangers and magi and stars in the East.  Inside, you might find a verse or a salutation, again, not indicative of that person’s place or time.

Maybe they believed in the message, but who hasn’t got behind the “Peace on Earth” rhetoric?  To me, the sentiment of the cards registered no further than the $5.99/dozen price tag at the Ben Franklin store.

Even today, in this niche-expressive world, the cards I get are mostly bought, signed and sent with little regard for the relationship I share with the sender.  There are more photo cards of my friends and their families, sometimes all wearing white and kneeling in the sand at a beach or sporting a red nose and antlers.   Cute…but didn’t you send me that same card last year?

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE receiving cards.  But, come on, let’s get beyond the Walmart mentality.

So since 1994, the first year I lived in NYC, I decided I would use the Christmas card as a way to celebrate the holiday, remind my friends why we are friends, and offer some insight into my current state of mind (yes, sometimes cynical, but often pithy too).  These are produced entirely in Photoshop, using only one finger on my laptop’s touchpad.   Herewith the chronology of the binderama Christmas tradition.

xmas-on-line

1994′s card was atrociously narcissistic, in hindsight. I was feeling full of myself, and I hadn’t quite figured out the city or my place in it; and the the card-sharing was more celebration that relation.. Plus, I thought I was a Photoshop guru.  Another recollection is that awkward moment retrieving my prints from the 1-hour photo place…back when such things are necessary.  The guy must have thought me quite odd for taking a roll of pics of myself standing in my bedroom, pointing to the sky and wearing sunglasses and a Santa hat.

xmas-97

1995.  I hadn’t learned much, nor had I gained any sense of humility.  I’m actually pretty embarrassed by this one, but…it happened.  This was also a lesson in the limits of digital printing at the time.  I had to take my floppy disk to Kinkos and run off a few test prints to calibrate color on their machines.  In those days, the meter was running, so I would be rushed to get it right.  Even so, the prints were pretty bad.

xmas-card-98

Skip ahead  to 1997. I finally recognized the solitude that New York City can give to a man. I become a faceless silhouette.   In the words of E.B. White…NYC can “bestow the gift of loneliness and the gift of privacy”  Yep.  What’s odd about this is that I can’t explain where the power source would have been.

xams-98611998.  I’m not even in the card, but this  fairly depicts the warmth and color of my life in that year…along with the solitude.  That steam pipe is real, and I did put lights on it…ouch.   The rest is fiction, save for the mouse, whose progeny plagued me for my entire tenure in NYC.

xmas997

1999.  I didn’t know it then, but this would be my last Christmas in New York.  Non-published versions included a cab approaching the intersection, about to plow the angel…but I’m not THAT cynical.  The scene is complete fiction, culled from five years of snowy nights when I would walk aimlessly through the city, soaking up the stillness and energy.

seasons-greetings2000. My only Xmas in Vegas.  This was a lot  of fun, and I’m surprised there isn’t a property like this yet.  This is the first year I went for details in the writing.

holiday-card-2001On to Los Angeles in 2001. Coming on the heels of 9/11, the mood was not as joyous as in years past, so, in retrospect, this is a pretty cliched theme…and it’s strange to recall that adding Santa and his team was an afterthought.

xmas-022002.  Now immersed in the SoCal scene, I blended the vanity with the cynical and more than a dash of self-deprecation.  Of course, if I’d had the funds, I probably would’ve gone through with the work.

xmas-031jpgThe first “serial” card arrived in 2003.  I had to think hard about who I might have become after all the plastic surgeries.  And sure enough, I happened upon Lorenzo Lamas, the perfect symbol of shiny SoCal vanity.

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The Binger arrived in 2004 and became the perfect foil for the card.  I actually worked though four or five different scenes from The Grinch before I settled on this one that captured his boundless spirit.

There was no card in 2005 because the Binger had to be put to sleep just before Thanksgiving.  I was too distraught to contemplate a card that year.  (I did consider a nuanced black card, a la The New Yorker, post 9/11…but that would have been wrong, so wrong.)

xmas061

2006 marked my move to Northern California.  My East Coast sensibilities are often at odds with the politics around here, and I really enjoy sticking to my guns in the face of liberal opposition at cocktail parties.  Plus, tree-sitters make me laugh.  This is the first time I featured another person in the card, and she went along very begrudgingly.

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.xmas07

2007 was a really good year, and there was so much too cover.  What better way than with PowerPoint!  And not just one slide, but three!  Like the year itself, designing the card was a great deal of fun.

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xmas0811Things were very different in 2008, and I went with the zeitgeist surrounding the Obama craze.  Hope surely summed up my own attitude at the moment.  But getting the dogs to stare off into the sky and look “hopeful” was no easy feat.  The other challenge was finding the right tones of red and green.  Not sure I nailed that.  (this RGB version is quite different from the CMYK of the prints)

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Okay, all caught up on the tradition.  The next post will include the 2009 card.  Come back soon!

A few minutes with Andy Rooney

Thursday, October 15th, 2009

Forgive me, for I am about to slip into Andy Rooney mode.  I don’t like Andy Rooney, but this post can only be described as of the Andy Rooney genre.  In other words, a topic that is very personal and about which no one else will likely give a rip.  Here it comes…

I prefer sunrises to sunsets.

This hasn’t always been the case.  For my first thirty-something years, I was like most people, anticipating each day’s sunset for the potential magnificence of the colors, the light, the action.  I’ve seen sunsets that are still burnt into my mind’s eye; spectacular visions that elicited gape-jawed awe.  I’ve crowded into Mallory Square on Key West to watch them.  I’ve watched the sun set from a bluff over Lake Michigan.  I’ve seen it set over the Hudson from a Manhattan penthouse and from the window of my office in Santa Monica.  I’ve watched the sun set through the charred skies of Beijing and the humidity of Bombay.  One of the most memorable sunsets occurred as I sat in traffic on I-95 in Ft. Lauderdale, impelling me to dig into the backseat for my camera.  The resulting photograph hardly did justice.

Certainly the arts — both fine and popular — have dramatized sunsets as metaphors for change, passion, nature’s awesomeness.  And, of course, there’s that “red sky at night, sailors’ delight” business.  Sunsets are just more popular than sunrises.

All this changed for me during a bout of insomnia about twelve years ago.  I was living in New York, and my affliction was likely the result of being an out-of-work writer on the brink of leaving the City for want of just about everything.  I found myself going to the Greek diner around the corner for pre-dawn breakfast a few days a week.  One morning, I left the diner and headed back to my apartment, down 86th Street towards the East River.  The light that seeped between the tall apartment buildings was of a shade I hadn’t before seen in the sky.  Mist hung in the air and gave the light depth and the sense that you could walk into it and be surrounded by it.  That’s what I wanted to do, as though on some spiritual journey to be a part of the light.

I walked down 86th and through Carl Shurz Park to the railing along the river.  Describing such scenes in words will be like describing a great work of art, not because of the beauty but rather the nuance and passion that it evokes. But I will try.

The air was a soft but brilliant red.  Not the sky, the air.  The mist masked the sky but caught the light and held it.  I couldn’t yet see more than a few hundred feet, the still river below and the faint silhouettes of buildings on the other side.  For twenty minutes or so, the mist lightened it began to recede in billows that revealed the entire panorama.  To the north, the Triborough Bridge and Hells Gate emerged, first in shades of red and orange and then yellow.  A southbound tug boat stirred up the water and the wake glowed and then twinkled with light coming from the as yet invisible sun.  To the south, the orange billows married with the first signs of the blue sky.  The trees behind me were gilded with golden leaves.

As I stood at the railing, staring east into this scene, early-morning walkers and joggers stopped beside me.  At first, I think they were curious about my intense focus, perhaps they thought I was watching a boat in peril or a fire out on Roosevelt Island.  But when they did pause, they too surrendered to the embrace of the light and the beauty of the event.  Apart from a few reactionary coos, they were silent.  A few took seats on benches, but I stayed at the rail, wanting to be as engaged in the moment as I could.

The mist revealed the low-rises of Harlem and the smoke stacks of Queens, the 59th Street Bridge and the FDR leading to southern Manhattan.  I’d seen these things a thousand times, but never had they been revealed to me like the slow grace of a brilliant celestial curtain.  This sunrise was like a gift.  Though I now had fellow travelers, some of whom had moved on to their work days, this experience was just for me.

That moment changed the way I look at the world, from anticipating moments to experiencing them, feeling embraced by the world and nature.  It was an event that — entirely coincidentally, I am sure — marked a new beginning for me.  Assignments started coming, opportunities widened, and my life just seemed different.  Ironically, the peace of mind and resulting sleep caused me to miss the sunrise most of the time.  Now when I need inspiration, I get up early to chase another sunrise like that one.  Even the drab ones offer me something I don’t get anywhere else.  And every few years, I witness a daybreak of such intense clarity it takes me back to the East River and to a moment when my world changed for good.  Everyone’s world should change like that, every so often.

I’ve come to recognize that sunsets are finite and invariably end in darkness.  Sunrises, on the other had, always start the same way, but they never really end, and you never know what that new day will hold.

The next time you feel a need for inspiration, invigoration, or just an embrace from nature — to remember what is good in your life and world — just get up early and look to the east.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Sometimes it’s harder to act busy than to be busy

Saturday, August 29th, 2009

Yes, it’s been six weeks since my last installment in this exercise.  Bad blogger! Bad Blogger!  But I have been keeping busy and creative, obsessing about getting the new website up before Labor Day.  So here’s how I overcame my “creative deprivation” that I described in my last post:

Adobe CS4 would not re-install on my computer and Adobe tech support had abandoned me…completely.  My only option if I wanted to get back to work was this: buy a new computer.  I could scarcely afford a new machine in this economy, but I was left with no choice.  And that’s what I did.  Got up and running in the typical 10 days that it takes to get all the little apps to fire as desired, and then I got back to work.  This is a disposable society on so many levels.

Finishing the website has been a learning curve of the steepest order.  Flash is a bitter mistress, often the source of great confusion resulting in utter humiliation.  I persevered, I suppose, by accepting my ignorance and compromising on some of the bells and whistles.  Plain and simple: I am not a coder and find the whole affair to be repugnant.  But I do much admire those who can deal with it.  Geeks have created a language that runs everything in the world, and only geeks can understand it.  So what does that tell you about who is really in charge around here.

Okay, a lightweight post, but enough for now.

Creative deprivation

Thursday, July 9th, 2009

eyeThis has not been a fun experiment. And it certainly has not been voluntary.  For more than a week I have been without my precious suite of Adobe software.  No photoshop or illustrator, no flash or dreamweaver, none of the other buggy but vital tools for creation and expression…and livelihood.  It’s really starting to freak me out!

ham1oWith the loss of just this one major component (as opposed to the whole system), I find my brain turning lethargic and unfocused, my eyes groping for icons that are no longer there, my finger perched on the touchpad, craving a good path, a new layer, an artful dodge and burn. I’m not kidding.

I feel the need to point out — above the fold –  that this is Adobe’s doing.  The internet teems with stories of CS4’s many challenges.  It’s a bear to install and, in my case, many components simply stopped working or disappeared.  I downloaded updates which would not install.  I consulted a litany of forums and help sites.  Finally, I uninstalled and now cannot re-install.  Tech support has been of little help, escalating the case several times with no follow-up.  No one there will help, although everyone is very pleasant about it.

I’ll also say that I have long considered the suite — especially photoshop — to be THE most awesome program I have ever encountered or even heard of.  And I’ve been using it for 15 years, almost daily.  It’s proven a priceless creative partner.

Up until ten days ago I had been working on my new website, leaping from photoshop to flash, dancing between illustrator to dreamweaver.  The flourishing array of programs were making real whatever my head could imagine.  Even with the many bugs, I could find workarounds, getting both sides of my brain to swoop in like avenging angels.  Then the bugs became too much, infecting too many links in the chain, slowly killing my partner, my friend.

And so I said goodbye to my friend, sort of forcing my it into a coma so that it might be reborn on the other side of an install and a half dozen reboots.  But my friend hasn’t emerged from its coma, apparently because there are still too many tiny toxins in the code and silicon to make it safe for my friend to yet rejoin this world.  Until those are eradicated, it seems, my friend is a piracy concern to its great overlord, Adobe Systems.

I miss my friend, but while I wait and wait to welcome it home, I am finding new means of expression, or rather old.  My friend’s absence has prompted me finally to blog with greater consistency.  The written word I cherish more than almost anything.  And so while one friend lies lifeless on a hard-spun disk in a plastic pouch, my dearest friend, the written word, is flowing from my fingers again out into the ether.

Godspeed, dear words!  Get well soon, CS4.

Virtual inevitability

Thursday, July 9th, 2009

Being an event producer and content creator, I’ve followed the rise of the virtual event with a mixture of curiosity and fear.  If people no longer gather in a single, physical space, is it really an event?  And what elements of my skill set and experience become obsolete?  What elements are more vital than ever? How should I adapt?

First off, I accept that virtual gatherings will play a larger and larger role in the coming years, commanding a greater share of event marketing spend and man-hour execution.  Many smaller meetings that were not long ago the bread and butter of business travel have already been replaced by WebEx and similar technologies.

Larger meetings, especially internal and leadership events, are also going virtual as companies rein in travel expenses and the sometimes irresponsible behavior of its jet-setting attendees.  Still, most physical events have never been “the junkets to Vegas” that President Obama criticized with careless flip.

Some givens:

1.  The live event will not go away.  It’s not naïve to say that human nature craves face-to-face interaction when forging trust and relationships.  Avatars and chat go only so far in that endeavor.

2.  More live events will have virtual components so that a larger audience can consume content in more ways.  The content is also available long after the event as tools for further study and nurturing the community across the calendar.

3.  The ROI — while far from proven — seems indisputably in favor of the virtual.  What will take time to prove is how many deals, sales and impressions — and how much exposure and new business development — can be conducted virtually versus live.

4.  What’s unquantifiable, it seems to me, are elements of learning and growth that most events engender — training staff and customers, managers and leaders.  How do you measure inspiration?

5.  Industries will adopt virtual events in broadly staggered ways.  Hi-tech is well on its way both internally and externally.  For industries where touch and feel are vital –  fashion, food, even automotive come to mind– the progression will take much longer and will depend on serious advances in the virtual and experiential design (see final section).  Then there are industries and organizations that are hard-line tradition; the thought of forgoing lavish travel and funny hats (I’m talking about you, politicos) might never be won over.

The experience.

To be sure, the virtual event technology is embryonic.  The UI and content are still being designed by engineers.

A few weeks ago, I attended a live event here in Silicon Valley, centered on virtual events.  There was the typical live atmosphere of people mingling and eating off little napkins, waiting for the next presentation.  Some members of the audience were on the vanguard of virtual, others on the trailing edge, their eyes wide with curiosity and an air of loathing.

What struck me about this event (which was also being served up virtually) was how poor the content was.  Presenters rambled; that can be charming in the room but puzzling from a remote perch. Slides were crammed with verbaige and unreadable data.  If you’re in the room, you can ignore that mess (but we usually read it all anyway for sensory satisfaction).

Some of the presentations were altogether incomplete because photos and other media were not compatible with other software present in the server lines.  This will surely be worked out in the short term, but as content grows more robust, producers will have to work closely with engineers to ensure that everything is compatible.

In the virtual experience, most UI’s I’ve seen — including ones created in-house and ones sold as shells by the leading virtual event companies — retain the motif and navigation of the convention center.  To me, I’ve always found the chilling vastness of such places to be a drain on the human spirit.

stagecoachrailThis concept seems like a misguided evolutional leap, not unlike hitching stagecoaches to train engines.

It also creates a lot of needless clutter with busy backgrounds, clumpy icons representing “booths,” confusing maps of contrived real/virtual spaces (e.g., theater, lounge, etc.).  Plus, there are scrolling text, crawls, chats, pushy avatar hosts and come-ons.   It can be quite off-putting and steepens the orientation curve for users, new and old. Plus, is your brand a convention a convention hall? If not, why would you want it to feel like one?

Imagine this…

…A real live convention.  You arrive and register, pick up your packet.  Maybe you’ve made a plan, maybe you haven’t.  As you walk to your first activity, you take in the sites and get acclimated with the space.  Maybe you run into an old friend and invite them to join you at the keynote.  While you’re waiting for the address, you check the adenga for breakouts you want to see and participants you want to meet.  The cocktail reception sounds like a good networking opportunity.  You brush up on your plans a few hours later at lunch.

Now, imagine all of this acclimation occurring in a single second, the moment you log in to the virtual event.  BAM! SPLAT! SHRIEK! Everything, all at once, in your face.  DECIDE DECIDE DECIDE!  It’s like a scene from a sci-fi film where the aliens bombard humans with the kind of sensory overload that makes heads pop like over-ripe watermelons.

Get organized.

Why not simplify the UI to be more life a good website?  After all, a virtual event is a glorified web presence — glorified in that the traffic and content is more focused while the offerings (more partners, more presentations, more attentive demos and “live” interaction) are vast.  There are many places you want to visit, people you want to meet, products you want to see, keynotes you want to hear.  There’s a lot you want to consume over time…just like the internet itself.

Which brings me to…

The Content.

Content is and always will be king. Video, media and presentations that deliver the message and strategic ends.  My self-serving opinion is: more, more, more and better, better, better.

When I say More, I don’t mean cluttering up the experience with videos popping up everywhere. I mean using video in more ways that truly engage the consumer in the experience and the brand. Use video instead of disembodied voices and slide decks. Make it easy for interaction and linking to other content. Embed video into PDF’s for product overviews. Live video chat, as opposed to avatars and text chat, also humanizes the experience.

By Better, I’m talking about heightening the presentation of the brand and the impact of the content. Content – in all its delivery forms – should still embody the elements of good communication like storytelling, cohesion, momentum and clarity. And production value matters. Can you really express your brand with a $200 video camera in the hands of a sales rep who then posts it raw into the endless ether of YouTube. I’m amazed at how some of the most important brands in the world allow this to go on.

The Future

Finally, as I noted earlier, the virtual event industry is embryonic.  Designers and producers now entering the field are equipped with skills in robust interactive media creation — most notably, gaming.  When the immersive visual and experiential art of modern game technologies is introduced into the event environment, it will truly be game on.

Until then, the incremental evolution of the medium needs to keep quality content and consumer-centric navigation front and center.

Especially heavy call volume

Wednesday, July 8th, 2009

What gave people bitter fits of frustration before technology and tech support came along?  Probably things like the weather, ornery farm animals, their children.

Here’s the thing: Day 7 without a vital suite of products working on my computer.  That’s frustrating enough, scouring the internet for fixes, trying them, failing, tweaking container proxies and failing in a whole different way.  There are tons of sites that address the very issues I am facing, so I know I am not alone.  Cold comfort.

Let’s contact the company which is headquartered five miles from my house.  In the old days I could have probably taken my $2400 set of software to HQ and had someone get under the hood.  They might have even offered a tour, a chicken dinner, some compassion.  Those days are long gone, and I’m pretty sure the security force is wise to such schemes.  After all, who wants to get THAT close to their customers?

Instead, I am talking to people 12,000 miles away.  We’ve done a lot of talking lately, all instigated by me.  Over the course of this past week, the issue has been escalated numerous times with promises of a call-back within 24-48 hours.  Those windows have passed repeatedly, without a peep.  So I call back and the issue is escalated again.  I went from level 1 to level 2, and today I skipped right up to level 5.  No matter how high it goes, no one is actually helping me.  We customers are such pesky creatures.

Whatever the problem is, they assure me, it is not with their products.  It’s with my system or some other widg or gadg residing within.  Ah, the last refuge of a tech support scoundrel.  They boast that “thousands of people use our products without any trouble.”  The second-to-last refuge: blame the customer.

So I ask: If you make such great products, how come the pre-recorded message warns of “especially heavy call volume”?  Are people calling to say how smoothly their software is running?  That they are amazed at how well it plays with the tick-plagued OS? When can I pay you another few grand for the new not-ready-for-market upgrade?

Of course, such lousy support is not isolated to this company.  There are plenty of companies with deplorable customer service in defense of their buggy products.

Speaking of buggies, I bet those could be pretty frustrating things to make work.

The Power of Done

Tuesday, July 7th, 2009

shoutout

Crafting the right theme for a campaign, event or presentation gives writers and creative directors some sleepless nights. We’ve all done “The Power of One,” “Make it Happen” and “Farther, Faster, Stronger.” Or, if we’re lucky, maybe we haven’t.

So we’re going to focus on the themes we couldn’t sell to a client...actually, we never tried. I’d like to think these are just plain bad, but given the current economic situation in the business, maybe some of these are viable. Honesty goes a long way with an audience.

Herewith, some ideas for hard-to-move themes.

  • Maybe Next Year
  • Ick!
  • Never Convicted
  • Looking Forwardly
  • Hurts, Don’t It?
  • Do This Smell Funny To You?
  • Every Man for Himself
  • Stimulate This
  • Internet Schminternet
  • Success Festival (SuckFest for short)
  • You Can’t Put a Price on Good Products
  • Run!
  • Please Turn to Chapter 11
  • Failure is Still an Option
  • It’s Not Working
  • What Goes Up…
  • He Shoots! He Misses!
  • Find Your Bottom
  • Pink Slip Poker Party
  • The Power of Ow!
  • DOA PDQ
  • Flatline
  • Frustration Station
  • Shorter, Slower, Later
  • It’s Cold, so so cold.
  • Assessing Blame
  • Do as I Say, Not as I Do.
  • Fetid and Festering
  • Make it Stop Bleeding
  • Geronimo!

they finally got it right

Tuesday, July 7th, 2009

Michael Jackson died a few weeks ago and he’s still above ground. Lawyers, doctors, accountants, law enforcement – and of course the family — have been keeping him alive through the same determinedly bizarre behaviors as during his mortal life.

Until today at his memorial service in LA. What could easily have been a circus of stars and clingers actually turned out to be a solid and sophisticated tribute. Aside from some bloviating by a few presenters (Brooke Shields comes to mind), the “show” was well-constructed and resonant. There was no story to follow, no big production numbers, little cohesion. Thankfully, Anderson Cooper did not attempt to call the play-by-play. It was just a humane celebration of a very rich life.

Really, for the past few weeks I had a hard time accepting that Michael Jackson was really gone. This morning it occurred to me that this might be the most elaborate publicity stunt ever executed, that Michael would rise from the coffin to the opening strains of “Thriller.” An audience of over a billion would witness the resurrection of one of the most famous, infamous, loved and hated persons ever to walk the planet.

I wish that would have happened. But of course, it didn’t. He’s gone and soon, I hope, the only sounds and images of Michael Jackson we’ll ever see again will be those of his music and performance.

I doubt they’ll get it right for long.