Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Remembering First Concerts

My 12-year-old son recently attended his first real rock concert, which got me thinking about this important rite of passage.
 
First concerts stick with you forever, whether they’re good or not. Trust me.
 
Fortunately for Clark, his first concert was a good one. He got to see the Eagles. People will be listening to Hotel California when they’re commuting to work in flying cars.
 
Trent, my oldest, did as well, if not better, than Clark. His first real concert was the legendary Paul McCartney of the even more legendary Beatles. The Beatles have inspired tribute bands, festivals and Las Vegas shows. Their legacy ain’t going away.
 

Tommy Tutone. Don't judge me.

And my first real concert? It was none other than Tommy Tutone. You probably don’t recognize his name, but chances are you remember his catchy song, “Jenny, Jenny.” Now you know why I shutdown whenever people discuss their first concerts, whether in an ice breaker or over a few beers. It was the 80s. Try not to judge me.
 
As I remember, people started hollering “Jenny, Jenny” from the moment Tutone took the stage. The longer he delayed; the more impatient they became. Finally, in an attempt to tame the restlessness, Tutone pledged, “We’ll play all the hits.” Problem is he had but one. He probably should’ve been playing it on a loop, including country, reggae and hip hop versions.
 
Bet Paul McCartney never had that problem.
 
How about you? Was your first concert a classic rocker or a classic one-hit wonder?

Sunday, August 24, 2014

An Enjoyable Trip through the Galaxy

Even though I grew up with the campiest Batman ever, I actually prefer it when my superheroes play it straight.

That’s the reason I wasn’t too excited for Guardians of the Galaxy. Based on the previews, it looked like they played it for laughs. Maybe that’s the way you market a movie where one of your leads is a talking raccoon.

Michael Rooker steals scenes as Yondu
And there are plenty of laughs in Guardians of the Galaxy. But don’t get fooled by the trailer. The movie actually treats its characters as seriously as a Spiderman or Batman flick with an actual plot and actual character development.

In fact, if I were to compare Guardians of the Galaxy to another movie, I’d compare it to early Star Wars. You’ve got a renegade, self-important and reluctant hero who bounds around the galaxy with a group of misfits that look like they came straight from the Star Wars cantina scene. Then there’s a huge, impenetrable, enemy battleship to be breeched. Sound familiar? Maybe George Lucas ought to get his attorneys on the phone.

Nevertheless I enjoyed Guardians of the Galaxy. The special effects are fresh and interesting, especially the way Groot’s powers are interpreted. There is also a magical arrow shot that would’ve made William Tell envious.

The cast was terrific, including Chris Pratt playing the lead, Star-Lord, with just the right amount of swagger mixed with self-doubt. Michael Rooker of The Walking Dead steals his scenes as Yondu. And, of course, you can never go wrong with a Stan Lee cameo.

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

A Meat and a Vegetable in Vegas

I was recently walking down the Las Vegas strip with my mom when I saw a bright sign advertising Meat Loaf’s Planet Hollywood performances.

“Meat Loaf,” I said, reading out loud.

“Why would anyone want to see him?” mom asked.

“He’s pretty good,” I said, surprised at her disregard for a rock’n’roll icon.

After a brief pause, she realized her mistake.

“I meant Carrot Top,” she said, without missing a beat.

Leave it to mom to mistake a rock idol for a root vegetable.

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Mad Man's Fall Provides Real-Life Lessons

None other than Don Draper, the iconic ad man of television’s Mad Men, and the creative force behind the fictional Sterling Cooper and Partners agency, has been placed on a performance improvement plan. They didn’t call it that. Perhaps they hadn’t come up with that euphemism yet. But there’s no mistaking it.

Draper has been given
 Don Draper
conditions to improve his performance or hit the bricks. I’ve known several people who were placed on performance improvement plans, but only one who returned to a fully functioning position. In my mind, such a plan is generally more about documenting a firing than improving performance.

Some of the conditions in Draper’s plan are recognizable today, such as running every move by management. Others are uniquely Mad Men, such as not drinking in the office, unless, of course, he’s entertaining clients.

There are other sure signs that Draper’s tenure is coming to an end, many of which apply to real life, including the following:

Being isolated. Being shunned by colleagues is never a good sign. When Draper shows up at the office after a leave of absence, people are uncomfortable in his presence. Even long-time coworkers, including people Draper certainly considers friends, are reluctant to engage him, leaving him alone in the conference room.

Secret meetings in secret places. Anyone who has been in an office setting recognizes the drill. Top executives gather and leave the floor quietly, possibly with a human resources rep. in tow. Chances are they aren’t discussing increasing the bonus. In Draper’s case, the partners convene in an upstairs conference room to discuss his fate.

Losing compensation. Speaking of bonuses, anyone who isn’t getting their fair share ought to be concerned. Draper is threatened with losing his partnership shares.

Piling on. When someone is wounded, people feel free to take their shots like never before. In Draper’s case, an emboldened Peggy, who Draper rescued from the secretarial pool, drops by only to tell him he hasn’t been missed.

Excluded from meetings or projects. This is a sure red flag. Draper can’t access files he needs and his creative team assembles without him.

Downgraded digs. Draper is assigned the office where another executive previously committed suicide. Talk about bad mojo. Real-life isn’t usually this poetic, although the message is the same, whether it’s a window or chair being taken away.

Draper probably figured he was safe from such indignities, having been the driver of the agency’s prosperity. But safety is an illusion. There comes a point when even high performers can be considered a liability. In the end, Draper does what most dutiful associates do. He accepts the conditions of his performance improvement plan in good faith, hoping his position can be salvaged. If real life is a barometer, it won’t. He should’ve taken the competitor’s offer and moved on. Perhaps that’s Mad Men’s final chapter.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

A Memorable Lesson on a Forgettable Night

During four years as a public speaking instructor, one of the finest lessons I ever taught my class regarding feedback wasn’t even in the lesson plan.

It was midway through the semester when things drag a little, but this particular night felt electric. I was making points left and right. I was using analogies. I was employing multimedia. I was sharing relevant stories from my background. Surely, students would be speaking of this night for the rest of their academic careers.

Early in the class, I noticed one student trying somewhat timidly to get my attention. I dismissed it. In my mind, I could not possibly be interrupted on such a monumental night. Undeterred, he became more brazen as class continued, finally holding up a notebook with six giant letters scribbled on it.

Deeply annoyed, I glanced at the letters and started to read them to myself, one after the next. Starting from the left, I read: Z … I … P … P … E … R. As I finished the last one, the gravity of the situation hit me.

As it turned out, this lecture had been literally off the hook.

I moved closer to the lectern, quickly fixed the wardrobe malfunction and continued on. Now that’s how you respond to audience feedback.

And, chances are, the moment had been just as memorable for the students as I thought, just not for the reasons I had hoped.