A Tale of Two Ads

Steve Wildstrom for Techpinions comparing the different approaches Apple and Microsoft took with their latest ads:

I have worked with both companies for many years and can assure you that while they are very different from each other, both are fiercely competitive, touchy, and as huggable as  hedgehogs. But there can be big difference between what you are and the persona you choose to present to the world.

Apple’s “Misunderstood” ad is one of the best ads I’ve seen this year. It wasn’t that long ago that Apple was running their I’m a Mac ads that, while sharing a few Mac features, were primarily focused on making anyone using a PC look like a buffoon.

Today we have Microsoft ads walking all over Google, but spending little time explaining why a customer might want a laptop with Windows 8. As someone who works for a company that builds computers, most of which run Windows, I’d love to see Microsoft spend less time obsessing over Google and more time focused on building great products.

Apple’s ads work because they make great products.

My in-laws stopped by on Christmas Eve and watched as my kids sent videos and pictures they’d taken to our TV using their iPods. My mother-in-law asked how they were doing it and I showed her the hockey puck sized Apple TV. My father-in-law then took out his iPhone and did the same, playing a number of videos of the kids when we lived in Seattle. I didn’t have to show him how it worked, nor did we have to pull out a manual and fiddle with any settings.

It was one of the few times when the technology melted into the background, and everything worked seamlessly.

This afternoon I asked Kim what her parents were up to. “They are online buying an Apple TV,” she replied.

Nothing of Consequence

Everyone is dealing with something.

Often it’s something noticeable like eating healthier or quitting a bad habit like smoking. A few years back I decided to exercise each day and eat a healthier diet. Over a few months I dropped nearly 60 lbs. The change I had made to myself was easy to recognize. Friends and coworkers encouraged me. I recall one office gathering where someone ordered pizza for everyone. The office manager knew I was trying to eat better ordered a salad for me instead.

But what if you’re working on something that’s not visible? Maybe not only is it not visible but amorphous and difficult to put into words?

When you’re trying to lose weight or quit smoking it’s not uncommon for a group of supporters to morph into your personal cheering section. They are on the lookout for anyone or anything that might cause a setback. But they have your back and are ready to jump in on your behalf to keep you focused and progressing towards your goal. Sure, you want to meet your goal but you also don’t want to disappoint this group.

We are all dealing with something, and chances are it’s something internal. Maybe you’ve shared it with a spouse or close friend. Or you put out feelers to see if it’s even safe to share. That’s what I do, but it’s not easy to determine if the coast is clear. When you share you open yourself up to scrutiny. You feel vulnerable. You could lose a friend.

With so many outlets like Facebook and Twitter to share ideas or passions or even the mundane, I find myself sharing less about the stuff that really matters to me. I tend to joke around or share a quote from one of my children. Nothing of consequence.

Knowing that others are working on issues provides comfort. I could always tell when a good friend of mine had something on his mind. I’d ask him what was going on and he’d reply that he was working an issue over in his mind. To this day, I have no idea what he was dealing with and never pushed for details.

I need to find one of those friends again. One who doesn’t live 1200 miles away.

The Best Days

I watched Beavis and Butthead with my sons.

I know, my kids are too young to be watching Beavis and Butthead, but I couldn’t resist watching the episode where the boys try to get a bag of sour cream and salsa pork rinds from the vending machine, but the bag gets stuck and Butthead calls Beavis a “fart-knocker” and it goes downhill from there. It’s up there with the one where Beavis photocopies his butt as my favorite episode.

It’s not like I made them listen to AC/DC’s “Back in Black” CD on the way to school, although I’ve done that as well. I listened to “Shook Me All Night Long” as a kid and I turned out just fine. Mostly.

Now that I work from home, I’m more likely to take part in their everyday activities instead of turn into Wonder Dad on Saturdays to make up for lost time. Not that those times weren’t fun, but I wasn’t around much to see them doing the mundane like…being kids.

On my son’s birthday two days ago, I spent the morning playing Skylanders with him while his three older siblings were at school. He turned 6 years old, and he’s full of opinions about the world. I sat on the couch while he stood next to me jumping up and down because his body couldn’t fully contain the excitement of the game.

That same afternoon my oldest son asked me to help him with math homework. He’s finally getting used to seeing me around the house before 7 pm. These and a number of similar experiences have convinced me that these are the moments I’ll look back on one day and proclaim they were the best years of my life.

I’m sure it’s wonderful to have grown children to be proud of as they head off to college, return from a mission, and eventually start a life with the person they love.  I look forward to those days, and there’s no shortage of parents with kids heading into adulthood who witness a worn-out father lugging a boisterous 1-year old son around the grocery store who say, “Just wait, the best years are ahead of you!”

I know they mean well, but they are wrong.

The best days of my life are happening right now on three interrupted hours of sleep. They are happening in the van on the way to school only to realize one child forgot her lunch and another his homework packet. They happen raking leaves together only to watch as many abandon the branches above as we fill the last bag. They happen while watching Cake Boss with the kids and not understanding even one of their inside jokes.

There’s plenty of time for them to grow into adults. I have no doubt those years will bring much joy as well.

But when my son crawls up on my lap, steals my hat and crawls away giggling with the hat pulled over his eyes— you can’t tell me life gets better than that.

Past Sagebrush

This is the email I sent my brother this morning.

I miss Seattle a lot. I miss the big city and the the excitement. But I don’t miss the traffic and the 2-3 hour a day commute. Living in Ivins has been a change. It’s small and close-knit, tucked into the Red Mountain community. It feels nothing like St. George.

But there are times when I can’t imagine going back to the big city. One of them happened last night. We drove up the windy road, past sagebrush and sand towards the mountain leading to the Tuacahn amphitheater and sat outside in 60 degree weather under the moon and stars.

Under the lit mountain, Jim Brickman walked out on stage, sat down at the black Yamaha grand piano and began playing this song without saying a word. 

Freaking awesome.

My Thoughts on the Apple TV

A few months ago my father-in-law let me borrow his first generation Roku. I hooked it up to the smaller TV in the basement our kids normally use to play video games. I was surprised to find them using it more than I had imagined and decided to purchase one of the newer Roku models for our larger TV upstairs.

While at Best Buy I checked out the Roku 3 they had on display and was impressed at how much more responsive the menu was compared to the older model at home. That’s when a Best Buy associate asked if I watched HBO. I told him that yes, we do watch a number of shows on HBO, such as Game of Thrones. He then asked if I was a Comcast, Dish or DirecTV customer. When I told him DirecTV he cringed and I figured there must be a catch.

Of course, there’s a catch. There’s always a catch when dealing with cable or satellite providers.

What I found out was that DirecTV doesn’t allow HBO streaming over a Roku device. Of course, they do allow it over Xbox and Apple TV (and probably other similar devices) but not Roku. I have no idea why. I had no reason not to believe the Best Buy associate but did a quick Google search on my iPhone to confirm the bad news.

So I ended up buying the $99 Apple TV even though it has fewer apps than the Roku. I was disappointed, but that didn’t last too long. When I got home, I plugged the Apple TV into the back of my Samsung TV via HDMI cable and began the setup process.

And here is where Apple schools everyone – they make the setup process as painless as possible.

As you begin the setup process, the Apple TV asks if you own an iOS device. I have an iPhone so, once I select the automatic setup link, the Apple TV connected to my iPhone and pulled off data to connect to my iTunes Store account, configured itself for my Wi-Fi network and chose my language, region, and format preferences. I assume the Apple TV came with an instruction booklet but I didn’t need it.

I wish it could have transferred over my Netflix account and password but otherwise, the entire setup process is brilliant.

Using the Apple is like every other Apple product I own in that someone has taken great pains to make sure even the smallest of details are clear and easily understood. The remote has three buttons and the best testimonial I can give it is that my 5-year old can use it. That’s not the case with the DirecTV remote which must have been designed by someone who hates life.

Everything works as you expect it to work and is a joy to use. Since I added the Apple TV, our Xbox and horrendous “Genie” DVR from DirecTV haven’t been used as much. The Xbox sounds like a jet engine once the fans spin up and DirecTV seems more interested in placing more and more ads inside their guide than delivering a quality product. If it were not for live sports, I’d get rid of DirecTV today and I still may do that soon.

I’m not going to cover all the features of Apple TV. A full list of available channels is available here. But I wanted to mention our favorite feature called AirPlay. In short, it allows me to stream pictures or video from my iPhone, iPod Touch or iPad to the Apple TV. This sounds geeky but is freaking awesome in practice. Tonight, my daughter took pictures of her brother who turned 1-years old today and then sent them to the TV for us all to see.

So, although I was initially bummed about the Roku 3, I’m thrilled I ended up with the Apple TV.

Losing a Friend

A German once told me that a person never has more friends than fingers on one hand.  To a 20-year old, that seemed absurdly low.

But today it feels on the high side because I recently lost a friend. Recently, is my interpretation because it’s possible this person checked out a while back, and I just didn’t realize it.

Losing a friend at any age is no fun. Yet this one stings because I have no idea what happened. For the past six months I’ve been trying to recreate the last time we saw each other. Was it something I said that day? Was it something I posted to Facebook or my blog that caused the rift? I’m at a loss.

The worst part is that I lost a good friend. A close second is not knowing why.

I’ve tried to reach out to this person on a number of occasions. I would like know what happened, but maybe that’s selfish. But I’m finished kicking myself over something I may or may not have done.

I’m still bummed about it though. This was my friend I could talk about what it was like going through a divorce and he understood because he’d gone through the same.

I find that the older I get, the more difficult it becomes to make friends. I don’t trust people as quickly, and I don’t get out as much to meet new people.

I suspect that not knowing why may not be the second worst part of losing a friend. That would be running into the friend and realizing he hadn’t given much thought to the situation.

We Make the Rules

I was a first-year college student at the University of Utah when an art teacher introduced me to Jackson Pollock. My teacher explained that the process Pollock used for bringing paint and canvas together was shocking to the established artists of his time.

Pollock would take paint and toss and flick it onto a massive canvas, often walking around it to get the best angle.

His paintings mesmerized and intrigued me. A number of my fellow students found his painting uninspiring and sloppy. But for several months, I found myself in the library searching for every Pollock painting I could find tucked away in the school’s small art book section.

As much as I enjoyed Pollock’s finished works it was his process I was drawn to. The fact that he was doing something that hadn’t been done before, on his terms was fascinating. I suspect at least one person told him he was going about painting the wrong way and he ignored it.

How do we assess greatness without a comparative work?

As I watch my children participate in school and church, I wonder if they are being taught to a standard determined by committee? Class grades provide a clear way to determine how well my children conform.  A certain reverence, behavior, and speech are expected at church. Memorization is expected in both places.

At school, one son is penalized because the teacher can’t reach his spelling although each word is spelled correctly. Another son is asked to memorize an Article of Faith in exchange for a treat but is denied such when the teacher can’t understand a word or two.

We make the rules and you will conform. ‘Do things our way or you will be penalized’ comes through loud and clear. Don’t draw outside the lines and absolutely, no flicking paint around our canvas.

As a parent, I add another layer of expectations on each of my children. My son mows the lawn the way I was taught to mow the lawn 30 years ago. That’s how I was taught so it must be the best and only way to do it right.

To this day the way I act around my parents and siblings is more closely aligned with how they expect me to act than how I actually am.

Is it possible there’s a little Pollock in everyone, but few possess the guts to act on it?