Seattle Weather Warnings

“We’d better stock up on Diet Coke before the storm hits”.

Those were Kim’s words to me tonight as she headed out the door to Fred Meyer. One hasn’t been able to turn on the radio or local news without hearing warnings of an approaching snow storm.

Seattle and snow don’t mix. Many blame the lack of snow removal equipment. Some say the rain creates icy conditions no matter the preparation. I’ve even heard people blame the salmon as the reason the city seldom drops salt on the roads.

Whatever the reason, Seattle loves a good weather warning. We can’t get enough of them. You’d be wrong to assume we’d take it all in stride given our penchant for perpetual rain storms.

Shortly after moving to Seattle, I started a round of golf in a light drizzle that turned into a downpour by the fourth hole. I turned to my playing partner and native Seattleite and suggested we ask for a rain check and return after the storm blew over. He gave me that “are you an idiot?” look and I continued to slosh around the next five holes soaked the bone. I must have dumped two gallons of water out of my bag after that round.

Seattle has no problem with rain. Rain doesn’t stop or slow down anything here. We golf, jog and schedule outdoor weddings in the rain. Everyone here expects it to rain so, when it does, nobody is disappointed.

But the mention of snow sends the natives to the grocery store to stock up on the essentials. And by “essentials” I mean coffee beans and lottery tickets. I’m not a Seattle native, but I’m starting to feel like one having spent 17 years here. I still can’t get used to two inches of snow causing schools to close. I grew up in Utah where, if the janitor made it to the school to turn the lights on, school was in session!

There’s been no escape from the mass hysteria caused by the latest prediction of “up to 4 inches” of snow by Wednesday morning. If this is your first winter in Seattle, you’re probably expecting a storm on the same level of Katrina. So try not to act too disappointed when Seattle Snowpocalypse of 2011 is less collapsing levees and more yoga instructors abandoning their Range Rovers alongside 405.

I’m hoping for enough snow to create a snowman. The last one was full of leaves and dog turds leaving the kids less enthused to show the neighbors.

Bring on the snow, I say. I’ll be ready with my Diet Coke 24-pack.

Turning Eight

The details are fuzzy, but I remember the feeling I had as I sat in the back seat of my dad’s Plymouth Duster. I’d recently turned 8-years old, and today was the day my father would baptize me. But it was a cold and snowy January day in Ogden, Utah and I was convinced I’d miss the big day because my father was lollygagging the afternoon away running errands.

Of course, I was wrong. We made it to the church in plenty of time.

I sat on a chair next to my father watching several kids step into the baptismal font ahead of me and wishing my last name began with a letter closer to the beginning of the alphabet.

Those were the thoughts that ran through my mind as I sat next to my son who turned 8-years old the day after Christmas. Today would be his turn to be baptized.

Earlier this morning I ironed a crease in his new dark blue pants that he’d selected to wear with this white long-sleeved shirt. He looked sharp.

The only item he needed help with was his tie. I began to wonder if a clip-on model would have been a better choice after several failed attempts at a half Windsor. I removed the tie from my son’s collar and tied it around my neck before carefully loosening it enough to remove and place back on my son’s shoulders where I could cinch the knot. I know that’s cheating.

My son is becoming a young man in front of my eyes. The many small and subtle changes don’t scream out for attention. But they are there. Like remembering to comb his hair before school. Or how he shows patience for an active and sometimes moody little brother. Even his growing vocabulary is a reminder that he’s learning to express himself in ways that no longer sound like an episode of Blues Clues.

When it was his turn, I took Lincoln’s hand and walked into the font. With his siblings, mother and grandfather looking on, he was baptized.

Each year there are a few days I wish would last 48 hours. Today was one of them.

Twists and Turns Along the Journey

I find that as I get older I experience fewer peaks and valleys. Maybe I take fewer risks because I have four children and a spouse who rely on me to provide for them. That’s probably a good thing because children gravitate to people they can count on.

But fewer lows means fewer highs, and I miss the highs.

Could it be that I’m becoming more stable? More mature? Or more boring. It’s probably a combination of many factors. I turned 43 this year. I’ve now been married and out of college for nearly half my life. I know what my strengths and weaknesses are in both areas. When I was younger, I fought against those weaknesses by ignoring them. When I realized that wasn’t working I began to focus on them. But over the past few years I’ve come full circle to the point where I try to spend my time doing what I do well.

I pick fewer fights. I’ve learned that only a few topics are worth taking a strong stand on and those are usually family related. Let others battle it out over the mindless details and let karma take care of those who treat others poorly.

What I’m finally beginning to understand is that I like myself for who I am. A number of twists and turns mixed with with a few roadblocks along the journey can make a person wonder if he’s heading in the right direction. I second-guessed myself a time or two, and I shouldn’t have.

Last year at this time, Kim and I discussed cutting back in a number of areas including activities that kept our family from spending time together. That’s resulted in the kids occasionally having to choose between a school and church activity. It’s meant that Kim and I have spent fewer nights and weekends doing our own thing. When we’ve had free time, we’ve spent it together as a family. We’ve stopped feeling lazy because we participate in fewer activities than most of our family and friends.

This past summer, we spent several weeks visiting the coastal towns and beaches of Washington with Kim’s parents. We slept in a tent and fell asleep listening to the waves crash against the sand while our kids slept in sleeping bags next to us. No rushing from one exhibit to the next. Just simple living and spending more time together. Remove most of the distractions and time seems to slow down.

My father came to stay with us for a few days. We used to spend a good portion of his visit going around to the various Seattle attractions. But today he took the kids shopping. As I pushed our 3-year old in a stroller, I watched how my three oldest children laughed, hugged and basically mauled my father for a couple of hours. I don’t know who was happier to see each other. I have no doubt neither would want to be anywhere else. Sure, the kids enjoy the new clothes. But it’s the time he spends with them that can’t replicated.

I don’t know what I’ll be doing in 20 years. But after watching my father, I hope I’m doing exactly what he did today.

Icy Roads

Driving around town today, I had a chance to chat with my oldest daughter who decided to tag along. Well, I coaxed her into coming along to keep her younger brother from shoplifting every flavor of gum near the register.

The roads were covered in light snow which hid a thick layer of ice. That made for slow going, but also provided more time to listen to my daughter tell me about her favorite Christmas gifts.

“What were a few of the memorable activities you did this year?", I asked. I assumed she’d name the fancy birthday parties she attended. Or the times we took her shopping or to the movies. But I was wrong.

"I loved spending time at the beach with grandpa and grandma”

“I love when grandpa from Ogden comes to visit”

“I like when you take me to work”

“I like playing the piano with mom”

The answers she gave were not ones I would have guessed. They didn’t involve spending a lot of money or visiting exotic locations. When I reminded her of a field trip she took see how the salmon in the area spawn, she said, “That was fun, but I really liked playing games on your phone while sitting next to you on the bus”.

As good as it was to hear that from my daughter it made me contemplate how her view of what’s important doesn’t necessarily match what I thought. As a parent, I’m expect to know what’s best for my children. Or at least be in the ballpark. This was one of those times where my child’s answers surprised me.

At the very least, I should be listening to my children. And asking questions like I did today. How else will I know what’s important to them? Maybe they’d rather play a board game than go to the movies. I assumed the bigger the better. But that’s clearly not always true. Bigger doesn’t automatically mean more memorable.

Next time I won’t wait for icy roads to ask.

Flipped

So many awkward moments leading up to that first kiss make those early teen years unforgettable. Every tiny detail came back to life as I watched the movie, “Flipped” tonight.

There’s a scene in the movie where the girl chasing the boy sits behind him in class and inches closer so she can smell his hair which she says has the scent of fresh watermelon.

Who can’t relate with this? One moment I’m supposed to act like girls don’t exist and the next I’m dancing with one I don’t know very well, but dang, she sure smells good I wish the song would never end. But I can’t enjoy it too much because I wonder if I smell as good to her over the three layers of my dad’s Right Guard?

An older brother would have come in handy around this time. Although I don’t remember telling mine how to act around girls. I probably did, and he did well to ignore my advice.

And that’s the problem. Nobody pulls you aside and tells you what you’re supposed to do. Adults only tell you what NOT to do. My bedroom was in the basement away from my parents and sisters. I lay in my bed many a night sorting out my feelings such as, “Why didn’t I have the guts to ask that girl to dance?” My Panasonic digital clock radio provided the soundtrack. So many plans were made at that time and yet so few were carried out due to my lack of confidence.

Do you remember dancing with someone you cared for and the song immediately moved to the top of your favorites? Without the internet, I relied on the soft hits station to play it and hopefully not talk over the beginning or end of the song. Even 25 years later, if I hear songs from Toto or Chicago it’s as if I’m transported back to a time when I felt cool wearing penny loafers and pastel Izod shirts.

I have a few more years before my children enter the age of awkwardness. I wish I could pull each of them aside and dispense wisdom I’m supposed to possess as their parent. I’m sure my parents tried this, and I brushed them off. I suspect my children will do the same.

And I’m fine with that.

Raindrops Keep Falling

The routine is the same each winter morning.

I make sure my compact umbrella is inside my briefcase. I slip my black leather gloves over my cold fingers, but not before I pull on my jacket. Once zipped the gloves go on.

I used to wear a wool Northface hat. But Kim made me one that’s much softer and better looking. That’s my last line of defense against the chilly Seattle mornings.

Just the thought of standing on the platform waiting for the train sends a chill down my spine. Gusts of wind following every freight train. The sight of of my breath as I rub my hands together. The type of cold that makes each breath seem like a chore. My feet were always the first to go numb.

But tonight it warmed up to 55 degrees and began to rain. I stood off our deck and listened to the rain hit the wooden slats. I considered grabbing my jacket. Or an umbrella. Anything to act as a barrier between me and the elements. Instead, I stood there.

When is the last time you’ve stood outside in a rainstorm?

Raindrops keep fallin’ on my head
But that doesn’t mean my eyes will soon be turnin’ red
Cryin’s not for me
‘Cause I’m never gonna stop the rain by complainin’
Because I’m free
Nothin’s worryin’ me

That’s one of the first songs I heard on the radio. Even as a kid, I knew all the lyrics and would sing along as it blared from the AC Delco radio in my dad’s Dodge Duster.

My shirt was now soaked. Rain dripped off my hair and onto my face and down my nose. As a kid did you ever look up at the sky and try to catch drops in your mouth until one hit you square in the eye? I stood there until I was soaked. My dog had long found dry ground inside. I felt as though I’d taken a cold shower in my clothes and considered what excuse I’d tell my kids when they asked why I was all wet.

I don’t know why I did this. Maybe to feel like a kid again having turned 43 last week. But I can tell you that it made me feel alive. Too often I instruct my kids to put on a jacket or grab an umbrella before going outside. Don’t step in the puddle because your shoes might get wet. Get all bundled up so you can play outside as if you were inside.

Forget that.

Next storm I’m going to grab my kids and run with them until we are soaked to the bone. If clothes have to be hung in the garage before we can come back in the house, I’ll know I’ve succeeded.

A Windows User Installs Ubuntu Linux

An older model laptop showed up at our home this summer; the HP Pavilion DV6000 to be exact. Kim has mentioned how convenient it would be to have a laptop she could keep upstairs while working in the kitchen or to take the beach during the summer. Or maybe it was her subtle way of asking for an iPad. I’ll never know.

Although this HP was a few years old, I figured it should fill in nicely as a kitchen computer.

One week into ownership, Kai managed to pry off a dozen keys. We tried to line up the tiny springs and keys, but that only resulted in frustration. My father-in-law suggested I search for a keyboard on eBay when I was about to toss the laptop on the scrap heap. For about twenty bucks, I was able to replace the keyboard and assumed we were back in business. We were for a while.

But Windows XP began giving us problems. It would send the laptop into death mode (sleep mode) and never recover. Only a hard boot would return the machine to Windows, but only temporarily. I assumed Windows 7 would fix the problem. So I spent an evening installing Windows 7 Home Premium. The installation took less than forty minutes but downloading and installing the dozens of patches and driver updates took a few hours. This isn’t uncommon on such an older machine.

Windows 7 worked great for a few weeks. A fresh Windows 7 install seemed to fix the dreaded sleep mode issue. But its performance was still incredibly sluggish. Boot times took minutes. Programs wouldn’t launch quickly. Or when they did, they crashed under minimal use. I began to wonder if underlying problems with the hardware were the real culprits. I ran Windows update and installed drivers from the HP website. I’ve experienced the havoc a corrupted driver can cause, but Device Manager told me everything looked fine.

As I considered my options, (tossing the laptop into my neighbors yard was on the list as was taking a baseball bat to it) I tweeted my dilemma. I’ve installed Windows 7 on several older systems, and each time, they came to life and performed at a much higher level than when they had XP or Vista installed. Windows 7 powers our three workstations at home, and we’ve had no major issues. Say what you will about Vista, but Microsoft came through in a big way with a solid product in 7. I could not figure why I could not get this laptop running smoothly.

Several of my followers on Twitter suggested installing Ubuntu Linux. My first thought was they must be drunk or incredibly geeky. Given that Kim is the primary user of the laptop, installing any version of Linux sounded like a recipe for marital problems. Kim is very tech savvy, but installing Linux on her laptop might just might push her into the Apple store. I’ve run various distributions of Linux for many years, but not on the desktop. I manage several blogs that run on Linux so my experience is on the server side of the house. Kim has been a life-long Windows user. I must be crazy. But I had nothing to lose. Even if Ubuntu didn’t work out, I’ve heard good things about and have wanted to try it out for a while. At the very least, maybe I’ll learn something.

So I decided to check out the Ubuntu website. I’ve heard that Ubuntu is user friendly. But compared to what? FreeBSD? The price was right (free) and the screenshots looked promising so I decided to give it a shot. I downloaded the desktop version and burned an ISO to a USB stick. From there, I installed Ubuntu in about 40 minutes. Like Windows, it has a built in software/drive update feature that worked incredibly well. It found my video card and my wireless adapter on the first pass. Impressive.

When the installation finished, Ubuntu suggested I reboot. I turned back to my computer for what seemed like 15 seconds and was absolutely shocked at how fast the laptop returned to the login screen. I didn’t believe it. So I held the power button down for a few seconds to force a cold reboot. Again, the login screen popped up in about 15 seconds. Stunning. I’ve never seen this type of performance on this old HP.

The speed! The speed! That’s been the theme from the first full day living with Linux on the laptop. I am keeping my fingers crossed it lasts. I installed Google Chrome for Linux, and it felt faster than the version of Firefox that installed with Ubuntu. Kim primarily needs access to a web browser for email, Facebook, and browsing. This resurrected HP handles those tasks with aplomb. I didn’t have time to show Kim around the UI this morning. But when I came home, she already had a number of Chrome tabs open while searching for recipes. Off to a good start.

If you’ve never seen the Ubuntu user interface, I think you’ll be surprised at how user friendly and polished it is. Even life-long Windows users should feel right at home. Yes, it’s different. But it’s certainly not difficult. I even found it fun to use while I discovered new ways of looking at an operating system.

Let’s hope it continues. Maybe I’ll look back and wonder why I didn’t try Ubuntu sooner. So far, it appears to be a great solution for older computers.

Mind Games

Has it really been 30 years?

The day was supposed to be a memorable one. One I’d been looking forward to for many weeks. My birthday happened to fall on the same day as “bring your child to work” day. I woke up earlier than normal and left with my father, whom I’d shadow for the next six hours at his job as a high school teacher and coach.

I was still shy around girls, but I loved the attention I received as each class of students rotated through my father’s class. He let me help take roll. But I mostly sat back and observed how these high school students interacted with each other. They seemed to like my father, and he liked them. Maybe attending the same school with him in a couple years wouldn’t be so bad.

But the most memorable part of this experience was the somber mood that hung over the school that day. The year was 1980 on the 9th day of December: The day after John Lennon was shot and killed outside his New York apartment.

I’d heard the news the night before when Howard Cosell made the announcement during a Monday Night Football broadcast. I knew Lennon was one of the Beatles. But Paul McCartney was the familiar name. Songs like “With a Little Luck” found their way into my 45 collection and were played over and over.

Years would pass before I’d comprehend how much Mark David Chapman took from us that December evening.

At the end of the day, I sat next to my father as he drove through the snow covered streets of Ogden. I asked him about Lennon as I tried to understand why he was killed. He explained to me he was a member of the most famous rock band and an accomplished song writer. That night we watched the news together. I saw the flowers pile up outside his apartment. Tears flowed down the faces of a generation hoping the 80’s wouldn’t be a repeat of the 70’s.

Lennon gets more interesting to me with each passing year. Here’s my favorite song of his that makes 30 years feel like yesterday.

What Does Your Company Win On?

This past week I attended an event on the Microsoft campus organized by the Social Media Club of Seattle. Although I’m interested in social media I primarily attend to network and rub shoulders with a group of smart and interesting people. This week’s event was no exception.

I learned something from each speaker, but I’m going to focus on a talk given by Sean O’Driscoll. Sean spent 15 years at Microsoft where he helped create the Microsoft MVP program.

Sean began by asking a simple question: “What does your company win on?”

Some companies win on price. Walmart is famous for winning on price. But winning on price is no fun because it’s a race to the bottom. It can also torch your suppliers. When a company has difficulty separating their product offering from those offered by their competition, they often resort to waging a price war. One problem to this strategy is customer loyalty seldom follows. The internet makes it easy to price compare, and your customers will buy from whomever offers them the lower price since that’s the only difference they recognize. K-Mart learned this lesson firsthand and barely survived.

Other companies like Fed Ex and Nike win on innovation.

Vizio getting their HD sets into Costco? They are winning on distribution.

Some people say Apple wins on style, but that’s only partially true. Apple has figured out how to create products that delight customers. In less than a year, my iPhone became the most valued gadget I own to the point that I’d rather give up my PC than my iPhone.

Walk into any Apple store and you’ll find employees who know the products they sell. You won’t spend fifteen minutes looking for someone to help you which is the norm at many retailers.

I recently went to the Apple store looking to purchase a case for my iPhone. The options were overwhelming. But an Apple store employee quickly described the differences before removing an iPhone from his pocket and handing it to me. “You want this one”, he told me. He was right.

He wasn’t selling a car or condo. We’re talking a $35 case. But he cut through the BS and found what I was after. Sounds easy, but it’s rare to find someone who actually understands the gadgets they’re peddling. Is the guy at Best Buy who just sold a dish washer, the best person to sell a smartphone? With Best Buy, it feels like they want to sell me something – anything, while at Apple, their goal is to educate me. Of course, Apple wants me to purchase their products, but they understand I’ll be a more loyal customer if I’m not just happy today but six months from now.

According to Sean, if your company isn’t winning on relationships, they won’t make it in this new world of immediate feedback and sharing through Twitter, Facebook and blogs. Information travels too quickly to recover from treating your customers poorly. Companies that build relationships will not only survive but thrive.

What does Sean mean by this?

Take a look at BMW. This is a company that works closely with enthusiast car club chapters around the globe. That gives the company access to some of the most influential fans of their cars who, in turn, share their excitement with potential buyers. These clubs often focus on the performance aspects of the car, but they also teach their members how to perform routine maintenance including car care. I attended one of these workshops and learned how to care for the exterior of my car. Until this time, I had no idea clay could be used to remove dirt and sand from paint.

BMW helps me learn more about my car and, in turn, I feel more invested in my choice and am more likely to purchase another one. The more features I use, the more invested I feel and the more likely I’ll become a return customer. For BMW, the relationship starts once I leave the dealership.

When I think of companies that excel at building relationships I think of Woot, Zappos, Amazon, Nordstrom, Apple and REI.

Take a look at your business and ask yourself, “What do we win on?”

What companies do you see winning by building relationships with their customers?

The Time Was 10 pm

The time was 10 pm.

By this time, teeth should be brushed, drinks of water administered and any last minute stalling by the kids should come with a reminder that Christmas is just around the corner.

Yet here I sit at the table with a semi-cold plate of chicken nuggets wondering if they were the dinosaur shaped ones I sampled at Costco. But I didn’t have to time make a determination because my two daughters decided to join me in the kitchen.

Luca pulled up a chair to one side while Anna did the same on the other. They sat on their knees and leaned as far in to the table as possible or about six inches from my ears.

And then the questions came as if I were being interrogated by the TSA.

“Dad, why are you eating so late?”

“Dad, ask us some math questions?”

“Dad, what is your worst favorite color?” (I never know how to answer this one)

“Dad, will you make us some popcorn?”

“Dad, when are you going to put up the Christmas lights?”

“Dad, can we get a real tree this year?”

“Dad, dad, dad! Tell us the story of the three guys!”

The questions come so fast and furious that it’s impossible to keep up. I can’t help but think it’s now after 10 pm and they should be in bed. It’s a school night. I should put a stop to the questions and send them to bed with a hug and kiss.

But tonight I sat at the table and listened to my daughters. Over time, the questions directed at me turned into them sharing stories about school. This doesn’t happen often. It’s not uncommon for my inquiries about school to be met with a shrug of the shoulders and a “it’s fine”.

I was surprised to hear Luca tell me how much she enjoys math. Anna also enjoys math but not as much as dancing and why should school get in the way of a little dancing?

“You’ll be 43 on your birthday which is a prime number”, said Luca.

And with that observation, these two silly and vibrant daughters of mine skipped off to bed.

Next time I’m frustrated with the level of interaction I’m having with my children, I need to remember this evening. How they approached me. On their terms and at a time that was right for them. I didn’t try to force anything. Instead I listened. I never look back and wish I’d talked more and listened less.

Next time I’ll consider making popcorn. And maybe Anna will dance for us.