A Day Too Long, A Dangerous Difference (Oh Snap!)

Not sure when I’ll get to post this blog due the ice-storm induced blackout we’re enduring in my neighborhood, but it’s being written late on a Thursday.  (Yes, of course I am wearing my red sweater. As well as a balaclava. Inside. That’s a first. For not being in a ski lodge.)

Yesterday, I took particular notice in the common area behind our back yard, of a 15-foot tall deciduous tree that still had not shed its leaves. The leaves had turned varying beautiful shades of red. Maroon, rouge, crimson mixed in with a dark green…yet were still hanging stubbornly on.

They looked even more beautiful against the snow that was falling Wednesday morning, which is likely why I took particular note of it. They were also hanging on a good month past when the other trees like it and near it had shed their foliage. Even that was pretty late…well into December for most of its peers.

This morning when I looked out, the leaves were gone. And so were the branches. And pretty much the whole tree. The ice that coated the bare branches of that tree’s peers made their boughs bow and bend…but they were still intact.

But for that one spectacular, enduring tree that held on to its leaves too long, beautiful as they and it were, it was game over.

I don’t know why those leaves were still hanging on yesterday.  I suppose it didn’t matter why come today.

The lessons to be drawn from this story are so many and so varied…and so obvious. I’ll let you make your own interpretation and application as apropos for your life.

But the common thread no matter how you apply it: there’s a time to let go, to transform, and be ready for the next cycle nature brings. Hold on too long…even one day sometimes… the snow turns to ice...

Oh snap!

Rogers, Conley, Haque & Me. A Whole New Neighborhood. (Plus Jang.)

In my neighborhood, for the past few months, just about any time you would see me in my home / home office, you would see my new favorite sweater. It’s a beautiful red Merino wool zip-up from Icebreaker in New Zealand that is the most comfy thing you can possible imagine. Originally bought from REI to keep me warm in the mountains while snowshoeing, it’s become my regular companion pretty much everywhere around the abode.

As pointed out to me by my wife, my regular reliance on it also gives me a vaguely Mr. Rogers vibe. (That’s his famous red sweater, not mine, on display at The Smithsonian.)

Credit: Randomduck http://www.flickr.com/photos/rudiriet

While this comparison might concern you, I don’t mind it.

One, you could say I look like Snuffleupagus, it wouldn't stop me from wearing my favorite sweater. (Did I mention I love this sweater?) Also, from a practical standpoint, the more I wear it, the less it costs per hour. Icebreaker Merino wool ain’t cheap.

Two, when I was a kid I loved Mr. Rogers. It was only as an adult that I fully appreciated how creepy some of those puppets were, but that’s another story. As a kid is where this story begins.

When I was around six years old, I wrote a letter to Mr. Rogers telling him how much I enjoyed his show. It was, to my memory, a fairly long letter for a six-year-old, requiring some effort. Then I realized I didn’t have his address. I thought of sending it to his neighborhood, but I was also fairly pragmatic at six, and realized that probably wouldn’t be good enough. So the letter never got mailed. Not sure why I’ve always remembered that…I suppose I am not a big fan of wasted effort. I am, however, a fan of letting people know when I appreciate them and their work.

Fast forward to 2009.

Seeing it displayed in an airport bookstore, I read Chip Conley’s book Peak: How Great Companies Get Their Mojo from Maslow. The book was fantastic. I have read a copious amount of books over the years, but this was the first time I was moved enough to want to go the Mr. Rogers note-of-appreciation route. So, I hit Chip’s website, and sent him a note of appreciation through the feedback page. About 12 hours later, I was surprised and pleased to receive a gracious email back from Chip, who was on his iPhone in Bangkok. Chip has also been gracious enough to stay in touch since. Too bad Mr Rogers didn’t have email.

But that whole process was oh-so-2009 in the neighborhood.

Fast forward again to the last week of 2011. 

While on Twitter, I saw a Tweet from someone I follow about a new Amazon single from Umair Haque called Betterness: Economics for Humans. I downloaded a sample and was very impressed. Thus, I downloaded the whole book, read it in about an hour...and was extremely impressed. When I checked out Umair on Twitter, he happened to be in the midst of a chat session. I joined it, was able to communicate directly with him, and he was as well gracious in appreciation of my readership. We've also had further exchanges since.

In reflecting on the progression of both commerce and communication listed above, I was struck by the stark change in the "neighborhood". (More so from 2009 to now than the previous!)

In 2009, it took going to a bookstore, purchasing a physical book, later hitting a website to communicate with the author, and getting a static email back some time later. Weeks. Physical movement. Transportation. 

In 2011, it was a span of no more than 90 minutes from first becoming aware of the book, to downloading it, to communication directly with the author.

All while sitting in my house.

And, of course, wearing my red sweater.

Fred Rogers passed in 2003. That was the year Time proclaimed, believe it or not, the camera phone one of the Best Inventions of The Year.

Mr. Rogers would never have believed what has happened to the neighborhood. 

That was going to be the end of the article. Then, after hitting Publish at 1am on a Sunday...

...I had a quick Twitter exchange with Seattle news anchor and social celeb Lily Jang about the dream of a Seahawks-Texans Super Bowl.

I won't go into detail about my concomitant-to-Mr Rogers-70's-era affinity for solid newscasters starting all the way back with Bill Beutel and Roger Grimsby on the "original" Eyewitness News in New York City.

But suffice to say, another great example of the new neighborhood.